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 1, 1«■.;, /** 
 
THE 
 
 WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. 
 
 WITH AN 
 
 INTRODUCTION TO EACH TREATISE, NOTES, 
 
 AND A 
 
 SKETCH OF HIS LIFE, TIMES, AND CONTEMPORARIES. 
 
 VOLUME THIRD. 
 
 ALLEGORICAL, FIGURATIVE, AND SYMBOLICAL. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 GEORGE OFFOR, Esq. 
 
 BLACKIE AND SON: 
 
 FREDERICK STREET, GLASGOW; SOUTH COLLEGE STREET, EDINBURGH; 
 
 AND WARWICK SQUARE, LONDON. 
 
 MDCCCLIX. 
 
/ 
 
 ) 
 
 .! 
 
 
 
 / 
 
 
 GLASGOW: 
 
 W. G. BLACKIE AND CO., PRINTERS, 
 VILLAJFIELD. 
 
 
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 n 
 
 24-4- 
 
 se • 
 
 Baa 
 
 
 i%59 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. 
 
 Tnn author’s religious experience and knowledge of the 
 way of salvation, first published in a treatise on the 
 covenants, and enlarged in his Grace Abounding to 
 the Chief of Sinners ; now completed in an allegory, 
 showing the Christian’s journey from time to eternity, 
 under the title of 
 
 PAOB 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS FROM THIS 
 WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. 
 
 The Introduction by the Editor. 
 
 Chap. I. Life a pilgrimage through a state of spiritual 
 conflicts; The Pilgnm’s Progress a guide to all hea¬ 
 venward pilgrims; the author furnished with leisure 
 time to write it, by being for many years shut up in 
 
 prison for refusing to violate his conscience. 1 
 
 Chap. II. The Pilgrim's Progress having been written 
 in prison, difficulties were thrown in the way of its 
 
 publication. 4 
 
 Chap. III. Bunvan’s extraordinary qualifications to 
 write the pilgrimage, sanctified by prison discipline.. 9 
 Ciiap. IV. Bunyan’s release from jail, and his publi¬ 
 cation of The Pilgrim’s Progress . 16 
 
 Chap. V. The inquiry, Was Bunyan assisted in the 
 composition of his Pilgrim’s Progress, answered in 
 the negative—1st, From his own declarations, to 
 which may be added, “ I am for drinking water out 
 my own cistern The opinions of the learned ; an 
 analysis of every work previously published on the 
 same subject, or with a similar title page. For a 
 list of these rare volumes see the Index. In these 
 analyses will be found a genuine picture of Popery 
 
 as painted by herself.... ... 29 
 
 Chap. VI. A bibliographical account of all the editions 
 of The Pilgrim’s Progress published during the 
 author’s life, with notices of the more prominent 
 modern editions, and translations into the languages 
 
 of nearly all nations. 55 
 
 Chap. VII. An account of the versions, commentaries, 
 
 and imitations of The Pilgrim's Progress . G2 
 
 Chap. VIII. The opinions of many learned men of its 
 singular merits, and the causes of its extraordinary 
 
 popularity. GO 
 
 Chap. IX. Observations upon some of the most promi¬ 
 nent parts. 71 
 
 Synopsis or Contents of the Allegory . 77 Arrive at 
 
 Exact copies of the twenty woodcuts published in the 
 
 early editions, with Bunyan’s verse under each. 79 
 
 The Author's apology . 85 
 
 List of Commentaries on The Pilgrim, and other 
 Works, which have furnished illustrative notes to 
 this edition ; a considerable number of the notes are 
 extracts from the author’s Works, with some by the 
 editor; a view of Bedford bridge over the river Ouse, 
 showing the prison in which the amiable and pious 
 author was incarcerated for more than twelve years, 
 in the prime of his life, rather than sacrifice his con¬ 
 science by submitting to human laws interfering with 
 Divine worship... 88 
 
 First Part. 
 
 Graceless becomes a Christian ; alarmed for the safety 
 of his soul ; is treated by his family as one diseased 89 
 Guided by Evangelist; runs towards the Wicket-gate; 
 is overtaken by Obstinate and Pliable ; persuades 
 Pliable to fly with him. 90 
 
 Fall into the Slough of Despond ; Pliable returns ; 
 Christian, assisted by Help, goes on ; meets Worldly- 
 wiseman; complains of his burden, and is sent out 
 of his way to the house of Legality ; terrified at 
 
 Mount Sinai... 02 
 
 Evangelist appears, and puts him again into the right 
 road ; arrives at the Wicket-gate ; is admitted by 
 Good-will, and sent to the Interpreter’s house ; is 
 shown a picture ; a dusty room ; Passion and 
 Patience; the fire of grace; the valiant man ; the 
 
 man in despair ; the trembler. 94 
 
 Proceeds to the cross ; loses his burden ; angels give 
 him a pardon, new clothing, a mark, and a roll; tries 
 to alarm three men asleep, but in vain ; meets For¬ 
 malist and Hypocrisy. 102 
 
 Ascends the hill Difficulty ; sleeps in the Arbour, and 
 drops his roll; is awakened, and pursues his journey; 
 meets Mistrust and Timorous; misses his roll, returns 
 in grief, and recovers it; goes on to the Palace Beau¬ 
 tiful ; encouraged by Watchful he passes the lions, 
 and, after examination, is admitted according to the 
 law's of the house; entertained; sleeps in the Cham¬ 
 ber of peace ; sees the study ; the armoury; the 
 
 Delectable mountains. 104 
 
 Enters the Valley of Humiliation ; fights with, and 
 overcomes Apollyon ; comes to the Valley of the Sha¬ 
 dow of Death ; terrified by the spies ; assaulted by 
 foes who care not for his sword ; betakes himself to 
 another weapon, “ All-prayer;” comes out of the 
 valley, and passes the old giants, Pagan and Pope... Ill 
 Overtakes Faithful, a fellow-pilgrim ; hold communion 
 with each other ; converse with Talkative ; Evange¬ 
 list forewarns them of persecution ; enter Vanity 
 Fair; are maltreated ; imprisoned ; Faithful is tried 
 
 and burned. 117 
 
 Christian pursues his journey, and is joined by Hope¬ 
 ful ; By-ends wishes to join them; the sophistry of 
 Hold-the-world detected; Demas tempts them to 
 the Hill Lucre, but they refuse; arrive at the River 
 of the Water of life ; they go into By-path Meadow; 
 follow Vain-confidence ; are taken by Giant Despair, 
 and imprisoned in Doubting Castle ; arguments for 
 and against suicide; escape by the Key of Promise; 
 
 erect a Pillar to caution others. 132 
 
 the Delectable Mountains ; entertained by 
 the Shepherds; are shown Mounts Error, Caution, 
 and Clear; see the Celestial Gate ; receive some 
 cautions ; fail in attempting to convert Ignorance ; 
 robbery of Little-faith ; meet the Flatterer, and are 
 caught in his net; released by a Shining One; meet 
 
 Atheist. 14S 
 
 Adventures on the Enchanted Ground; means of 
 watchfulness ; enter the Land of Beulah ; are sick 
 with love ; approach the River of Death ; no bridge; 
 full of fear and dread, but get safely over ; received 
 by angels ; admitted to glory. 152 
 
 Vol. iii., j). sys. 
 
 Second Part. 
 
 The Author's way of sending it, forth . 108 
 
 Sagacity relates how Christiana, the w'idow' ol Chris¬ 
 tian, reflects upon her former conduct, feels her 
 danger, and agrees with her children to follow her 
 late husband in pilgrimage; is encouraged by a 
 secret influence on her mind that she would be re¬ 
 ceived ; her neighbours dissuade her, but she pre¬ 
 vails upon one of them, Mercy, to go with her; she 
 is reviled by her acquaintanc . 171 
 
 601578 
 
 v# 
 
IV 
 
 CONTENTS OF TIIE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. 
 
 Get over the Slough of Despond, anil are admitted at 
 the Wicket-gate, and rejoice together; they are fed, 
 washed, and sent on their way ; the children eat the 
 enemy’s fruit; are assaulted, but rescued by the 
 
 Reliever. 
 
 Arrive at the Interpreter’s house ; shown the signifi¬ 
 cant rooms, the man who prefers a muck-rake to a 
 celestial crown, the spider in the best room, the hen 
 and chickens, butcher and sheep, the garden, the 
 field, the robin ; the Interpreter’s proverbs; tree rot¬ 
 ten at the heart; they relate their experience; Mercy 
 is sleepless for joy; they are washed, which enlivens 
 
 and strengthens them ; sealed and clothed .. 
 
 Great-heart guards them to the house called Beautiful; 
 pass the Sepulchre where Christian lost his burden ; 
 pardon by word and deed, an important distinction ; 
 see Simple, Sloth, and Presumption hanging; names 
 of those that they had ruined ; Hill Difficulty ; By¬ 
 ways, although stopped and barred up, still entered ; 
 rest in the Arbour, but are afraid to sleep; still suffer 
 by forgetfulness ; punishment of Timorous and Mis¬ 
 trust ; Giant Grim slain... 
 
 Pilgrims arrive at the Palace Beautiful; Great-heart 
 returns; they are entertained for a month ; the 
 children catechised; Mr. Brisk makes love to 
 Mercy ; her sister Bountiful’s unhappy marriage; 
 Matthew sick with the enemy's fruit ; is healed by 
 Dr. Skill; his prescriptions ; instructive questions ; 
 they are greatly strengthened ; Mr. Great-heart sent 
 
 to guard them. 
 
 Enter the Valley of Humiliation, and are pleased with 
 it; shepherd boy’s song ; see the place where Chris¬ 
 tian and Apollyon fought; come into the Valley of 
 the Shadow of Death ; are greatly terrified ; Giant 
 Maul slain ; find Old Honest, a pilgrim, sleeping ; 
 he joins them ; story of Mr. Fearing ; good men 
 sometimes much in the dark ; he fears no difficul¬ 
 ties, only lest he should deceive himself; case of 
 
 Self-will ; a singular sect in the Author’s time. 
 
 Are entertained at the House of Gaius ; pilgrims the 
 descendants of the martyrs ; Matthew and Mercy 
 betrothed ; riddles in verse; Slay-good, a giant, 
 slain ; Feeble-mind rescued; proves to be related to 
 Mr. Fearing ; Not-right killed w r ith a thunderbolt; 
 Matthew and Mercy, and James and Phebe, married; 
 Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt join the pilgrims; 
 profitable converse between Honest and Great-heart 
 Vanity Fair; the death of Faithful had planted a little 
 colony of pilgrims there ; pleasant communion; 
 courage and an unspotted life essential to pilgrims ; 
 Samuel and Grace, and Joseph and Martha, married; 
 the Monster (state religion) assaulted and wounded ; 
 believed by some that he will die of his wounds ; pass 
 the place where Faithful was martyred ; the silver 
 
 mine ; Lot’s wife. 
 
 Arrive at the river near the Delectable Mountains ; 
 By-path Meadow ; Slay Giant Despair, and Diffi¬ 
 dence, his wife, and destroy Doubting Castle; release 
 Mr. Despondency and Miss Much-afraid; Great- 
 heart addresses the Shepherds in rhyme ; Mounts 
 Marvel, Innocent, and Charity; see the Hole in the 
 side of the Hill; Mercy longs for a curious Mirror; 
 
 the Pilgrims are adorned. 
 
 Story of Turn-away ; find. Valiant-for-truth wounded 
 by thieves ; account of his conversion ; the question 
 debated, that if we shall know ourselves, shall we 
 know others in the future state ? arguments used by 
 relatives to prevent pilgrimage; the Enchanted 
 Ground ; an arbour called the Slothful’s Friend ; in 
 doubt as to the wav, the book or map is examined ; 
 Heedless and Bold in a fatal sleep ; surprised by a 
 solemn noise, they are ied to Mr. Stand-fast in 
 prayer, he having been assailed by Madam Bubble... 
 Arrive in the Land of Beulah, and are delighted with 
 celestial visions on the border of the River of Death; 
 Christiana summoned, addresses her guide, and 
 blesses her children and her fellow-pilgrims; her 
 
 last words; Mr. Ready-to-halt passes the river; 
 Feeble-mind is called, will make no will, and goes up 
 to the Celestial City; Despondency and Much- 
 afraid die singing ; Honest dies singing, Grace 
 reigns; Valiant-for-truth and Stand-fast joyfully 
 pass the river, leaving a solemn message to relatives; 
 joy in heaven on the arrival of the pilgrims ; Chris¬ 
 tiana’s children a blessing to the church. 240 
 
 The deep working of the Holy Spirit with the author’s 
 soul, in its recovery from ruin to the divine favour, 
 in the form of an allegory called 
 
 THE HOLY WAR MADE BY SHADDAI UPON 
 DIABOLUS,FOR THE REGAINING OF THE 
 METROPOLIS OF THE WORLD; or, The 
 Losing and Taking again of the Town of Mansoul. 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 245 
 
 Poetical Preface to the Reader by the Author . 251 
 
 This Work was originally published in the form of 
 a continuous narrative; but, to enable the reader 
 more readily to pause and reflect, the Editor has 
 ventured to adopt the plan, first introduced by Mr. 
 Burder, of dividing it into chapters. 
 
 Chap. I. The original beauty and splendour of Man- 
 soul under Shaddai; her noble castle ; five gates; 
 perfection of the inhabitants, the origin of Diabolus; 
 his pride and fall; his revenge; council of war to 
 reduce the town; Diabolus approaches Eye-gate; his 
 oration; Captain Resistance slain; My Lord Inno¬ 
 cence killed ; the town taken. 255 
 
 Chap. II. Diabolus occupies the castle; deposes the 
 Lord Mayor, Mr. Understanding, and a wall erected 
 to darken his house ; Mr. Conscience the Recorder 
 put out of office; very obnoxious to Diabolus and the 
 inhabitants ; Mr. Lord-will-be-will heartily espouses 
 the cause of Diabolus, and is made the principal 
 governor; the image of Shaddai defaced, and that of 
 Diabolus set up ; Air. Lustings made Lord Mayor ; 
 
 Mr. Forget-good, Recorder; new Aldermen appointed 
 —Messrs. Incredulity, Haughty, Swearing, Whoring, 
 Hard-heart, Pityless, Fury, No-truth, Stand-to-lies, 
 False-peace, Drunkenness, Cheating, and Atheism ; 
 three strongholds built—Defiance, Midnight-hold, 
 
 and Sweet-sin-hold. 260 
 
 Chap. III. The Revolution known to king Shaddai; 
 his resentment against Diabolus; his gracious inten¬ 
 tion of restoring Mansoul; intimations published, but 
 suppressed by Diabolus; his artifices to secure the 
 
 town and prevent its return to Shaddai. 265 
 
 Chap. IV. Shaddai sends an army of 40,000 spiritual 
 energies to reduce Mansoul, under the command of 
 Captains Boanerges, Conviction, Judgment, and 
 Execution, who address the inhabitants powerfully, 
 but with little effect; Diabolus, Incredulity, Ill- 
 pause, and others, interfere to prevent submission ; 
 Prejudice defends Ear-gate, with a guard of sixty 
 
 deaf men. 270 
 
 Chap. Y. The Captains give Rattle to the town, which 
 resolutely resists ; they retire to winter quarters ; 
 Tradition, Human Wisdom, and Man’s Invention, 
 enlist under Boanerges ; they are taken prisoners, 
 and join Diabolus under Captain Anything; hostili¬ 
 ties are renewed, and the town much molested ; a 
 famine and mutiny in Mansoul; a parley ; proposi¬ 
 tions made and rejected ; Understanding and Con¬ 
 science quarrel with Incredulity ; a skirmish. 270 
 
 Chap. VI. Lord Understanding and Mr. Conscience 
 imprisoned ; the besieging officers petition Shaddai 
 for a reinforcement; it is approved; Emmanuel, the 
 king’s son, is appointed to conquer the town; marches 
 with a great army, and surrounds Mansoul, which is 
 
 strongly fortified against him. 232 
 
 Ciiap. VII. Emmanuel prepares for war against Man¬ 
 soul ; Diabolus sends Loth-to-stoop with proposals 
 for peace, which are rejected ; he proposes to patch 
 up a peace by outward reformation, offering to become 
 
 PACK 
 
 173 
 
 184 
 
 190 
 
 196 
 
 205 
 
 217 
 
 224 
 
 228 
 
 232 
 
CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. 
 
 V 
 
 P AO* 
 
 Emmanuel's deputy, this also rejected: preparations 
 far battle ; Diabolus injures the town ; Ear-gate 
 assaulted, gives way, Emmanuel’s forces enter the 
 town, and take possession of the Recorder’s house ; 
 
 several Diabolonians killed. 2S9 
 
 Ciur. VIII. The principal inhabitants hold a con¬ 
 ference, and agree to petition the prince for their 
 lives ; the castle gates broke open ; triumphal entry 
 of Emmanuel; Diabolus is bound in chains ; the in¬ 
 habitants, in great misery, petition again and again; 
 a free pardon is published, and universal joy succeeds 29G 
 Chap. IX. The liberated prisoners return to Mansoul 
 with great joy; the inhabitants request Emmanuel 
 to reside among them ; he makes a triumphal entry 
 amid the shouts of the people; the town is new- 
 modelled, and the image of Shaddai again erected... 304 
 Chap. X. The strongholds of Diabolus destroyed ; the 
 great Diabolonians tried, condemned, and executed, 
 
 to Mansoul’s great joy. 309 
 
 Ciiap. XI. Experience is made an officer ; the charter 
 renewed and enlarged, with special privileges; minis¬ 
 try established ; Mr. Conscience the preacher, his 
 duties and rewards specified ; the inhabitants are 
 clad in white ; receive many distinguishing favours 
 from the prince; God’s peace appointed to rule; the 
 
 unexampled felicity of the town. 317 
 
 hap. XII. Carnal-security prevails ; Emmanuel pri¬ 
 vately withdrawing. Godly-fear detects it, and excites 
 the people to destroy Carnal-security; they try to 
 induce Emmanuel to return. 324 
 
 Chap. XIII. The Diabolonians take courage; plots are 
 formed to re-conquer Mansoul; vices, under virtuous 
 names, are introduced, and do immense mischief; 
 and 20,000 Doubters are raised to surprise the town 330 
 Chap. XIV. Mr. Pry well discovers the plot; prepara¬ 
 tions for defence; more Diabolonians executed; the 
 Doubters assau lt Ear-gate, but are repulsed ; the 
 l(Tv\WmenX\TIinhot parley-; flattery tried in vain; 
 Jolly, Griggish, Gripe, and Ralceall, executed; Any¬ 
 thing and Loosefoot imprisoned. 330 
 
 Chap. XV. Mpnsoul makes a rash sortie by night and 
 is worsted; Diabolus attacks Feel-gate, which he 
 forces, and Doubters possess the town, doing incre¬ 
 dible mischief; Mansoul petitions Emmanuel, and 
 
 Credence is appointed Lord Lieutenant. 34S 
 
 Chap. XVI. A new plot laid to ruin the town, by riches 
 and prosperity; Emmanuel appears to assist Man¬ 
 soul ; the army of Doubters routed; he enters the 
 town amidst the joyful acclamations of the inhabi¬ 
 
 tants. 3 55 
 
 Chap. XVII. A new army of Woodmen or persecutors 
 attack the town, but are taken by Faith and 
 Patience; the principal Doubters tried, convicted, 
 
 and executed. 3G1 
 
 Chap. XVIII. More Diabolonians condemned; Em¬ 
 manuel's admirable speech to Mansoul. 369 
 
 Bunyan's poetical Epilogue to The Holy Wav, in 
 which he claims The Pilgrim's Progress entirely as 
 his own, and anagramatizes his name. 374 
 
 TIIE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN; or, A Description 
 of the Man that gets to Heaven, together with the 
 Way he runs in, the Marks he goes by; also, Some 
 
 Directions how to Run so as to Obtain. 375 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 375 
 
 Epistle to Slothful and Careless People . 373 
 
 I. The words opened, and this doctrine laid down, 
 
 namely, that they that will have heaven, they must 
 run for it. 381 
 
 II. The word run opened by three Scripture expres¬ 
 sions—flying, pressing, continuing. 381 
 
 III. Several reasons for the clearing of the doctrine.... 381 
 
 1 Y r . Nine directions how to run so as to obtain. 383 
 
 V. Nine motives to urge us on in the way. 389 
 
 VI. Nine uses of this subject. 391 
 
 V 11. Nine provocations to run with the foremost. 394 
 
 VIII. A Short expostulation. 394 
 
 TIIE HOLY CITY, ou TIIE NEW JERUSALEM, 
 wherein its goodly light, walls, gates, angels, and the 
 manner of their standing, are expounded ; also, her 
 length and breadth, together with the golden measur¬ 
 ing-reed explained, and the glory of all unfolded; 
 as also the numerousness of its inhabitants, and what 
 the tree and water of life are, by which they are 
 
 sustained. 395 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 395 
 
 Dedication to the Godly Reader . 397 
 
 Dedication to the Learned Reader . 398 
 
 Dedication to the Captious Reader and to the Mother 
 
 of Harlots . 399 
 
 This deeply-interesting Treatise is a Commentary on 
 
 Rev. xxi. 10-27; and xxii. 1-4. 400 
 
 First, The vision of the Holy City, or gospel church in 
 general:— 
 
 Returning out of Antichristian captivity; why the 
 church is called a city; descends out of heaven ; has 
 
 the glory of God ; her light. 401 
 
 Second, A discovery of its defence, entrances, and 
 fashion in particular :— 
 
 The defence of the city ; the wall; the gates ; the 
 angels at the gates ; the names written on the gates ; 
 the order of the gates ; the foundations of the wall; 
 how we are to understand the word twelve ; the 
 measuring line or golden reed ; the city measured ; 
 the gates measured; the wall measured ; the form 
 
 and measure of the city. 411 
 
 Third, A relation of the glory of the city, its walls, 
 gates, and foundations :— 
 
 The glory of the walls ; the glory of the city ; the 
 glory of the foundations ; the foundations, what they 
 are, and how placed ; the glory of the gates and of 
 the streets; the city has no temple; needs not the 
 
 light of sun or moon. 427 
 
 Fourth, The inhabitants of the City, their quality and 
 numerousness :— 
 
 The city secure; the gates always open ; the glory 
 and honour of the nations brought into it; none but 
 
 visible saints can enter. 413 
 
 Fifth, The provision and maintenance of the City :— 
 
 Its drink the water of life ; whither this water 
 goes, and its extension ; its food the tree of life ; the 
 ease, peace, and tranquillity of the city. 450 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED; or, 
 Gospel light fetched out of the Temple at Jerusa¬ 
 lem, to let us more easily into the glory of New 
 
 Testament truth. 4G0 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 400 
 
 To the Christian Reader ... 4G2 
 
 I.-IV. Where the temple was built; who built it; how, 
 
 and of what it was built. 4G3 
 
 V.—VIII. Who was to fell the trees and to dig the 
 stones ; in what condition these were when brought; 
 the foundation ; the richness of the stones which 
 were laid for the foundation .. 4GG 
 
 IX.-XVII. Which way the face of the front of temple 
 stood ; of the courts ; the brazen altar ; the pillars ; 
 the height of the pillars; the chapiters of the pillars; 
 the pomegranates; the chains upon these pillars; the 
 
 lily-work upon the chapiters. 4G3 
 
 XVIIT.-XXIV. Of the fashion of the temple; the out¬ 
 ward glory ; the porch ; the ornaments of the porch ; 
 the ascent by which they went up to the porch ; the 
 gate of the porch ; the pinnacles of the temple. 473 
 
 XXV.-XXXV. Of the porters of the temple ; the 
 charge of the porters ; the doors ; the leaves of this 
 gate; what the doors of the temple were made of, 
 and how adorned ; of the wall: the garnishing ; the 
 
 windows, chambers, and stairs. 477 
 
 XXXVI.—XL VIII. Of the molten sea ; the la vers ; the 
 tables; the instruments wherewith the sacrifices 
 were slain ; the candlesticks and lamps ; the shew- 
 bread ; the snuffers and snuff dishes; the golden 
 tongs ; the altar of incense ; the golden censers. 483 
 
 
 * 
 
 I 
 
 ; 
 
 a 
 
 H 
 
 J 
 
 uv 
 
VI 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. 
 
 PAOI? 
 
 XLIX.-LXV. Of the golden spoons, bowls, basons, 
 flagons, and cups belonging to the temple; the 
 chargers ; the goings out; the singers ; the union of 
 the holy and most holy temple ; the holiest or inner 
 temple ; the vail; the doors, golden nails, floors, and 
 walls of the inner temple ; the ark of the covenant; 
 placing of the ark, the mercy-seat, the living waters, 
 
 and the chains in the oracle or inner temple,.. 492 
 
 LXVI.-LXX. Of the high-priest, and of his office in 
 the inner temple ; of the high-priest’s going alone, 
 and but once a year, into the holiest; the cherubims; 
 the figures that were upon the walls. 505 
 
 A DISCOURSE OF THE HOUSE OF THE 
 FOREST OF LEBANON, showing it to be typical 
 
 of spiritual things. 510 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 510 
 
 Chap. I. A distinct building at a great distance from 
 
 the temple at Jerusalem. 512 
 
 Chap. II. Of what this house was a type ; the church 
 
 under persecution in the wilderness. 513 
 
 Chap. III. Of the largeness of this house ; a place of 
 defence and not of assault; if afflicted, fire proceed- 
 
 eth to devour her enemies. 515 
 
 Chap. IV. Of the materials of which it was built, sweet- 
 
 scented wood. 510 
 
 Chap. V. Of the windows, and of what they were typos 519 
 Chap. VI. Of the doors and posts, and their square; 
 admirable for beauty; the world striving to ravish 
 
 and plunder her. 522 
 
 Chap. VII. Of the repetition of light against light; 
 Divine light against Antichrist; all opinions to be 
 
 submitted to the Word. 523 
 
 Chap. VIII. Of the golden shields and targets, and 
 what they typified; as King Solomon supplied all 
 
 this armour, so God arms his saints... 525 
 
 Chap. IX. Of the vessels of pure gold, not for divine 
 worship, but private use ; sometimes full of bitter 
 draughts, at other times the cup of consolation and 
 
 of salvation : God’s love tokens like honey. 527 
 
 A most interesting letter from Pomponius Algerius, 
 an Italian martyr, one of the pillars in God’s house 530 
 Chap. X. The porch of the house capable of holding 
 1000 men; a refuge from the storm ; a defence from 
 persecutors; not enough to be content with the porch; 
 
 we must enter the house. 533 
 
 Conclusion —Why persecution is allowed of God. 536 
 
 TIIE WATER OF LIFE; or, A Discourse showing 
 the Richness and Glory of the Grace and Spirit of 
 the Gospel, as set forth in Scripture by that term. 
 
 The Water of Life . r . 538 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 538 
 
 The Epistle to the Reader, or Bunyan's Bill of his 
 Master's Water of Life ...|. 539 
 
 Text —Rev. xxii. 1 —The divisions. First, The subject 
 matter. Second, The quantity of this water, “a 
 
 river.” Third , Its source, the throne of God. 
 Fourth, Its quality, pure and clear as crystal. 
 
 The Spirit of grace compared to water. 540 
 
 The greatness and abundance of the Water of Life ; 
 what a river this is, and inferences to be drawn from 
 
 the term river . o42 
 
 The head or well-spring of the water of life. 545 
 
 The nature and quality of this water ; pure, clear ; no 
 grudge or upbraiding in it ; comes from God’s very 
 heart; mighty beyond conception ; no fear of excess 
 or of surfeiting here ; the cliiefest good, the highest 
 
 good ; conduct influenced by doctrines. 551 
 
 The application of the whole ; this water of file excel¬ 
 lent in nature, abundant in quantity, has a glorious 
 head-spring, and a singularly good quality ; therefore 
 ought to be abundantly used ; bless God for provid¬ 
 ing it, and test all doctrines by it. 557 
 
 A MAP, showing the Order and Causes of Salvation 
 and Damnation. By John Bunyan, Author of The 
 
 Pilgrim's Progress. Printed and sold by William 
 Marshall, at the Bable, in Newgate Street, where you 
 may have Dr. Owen’s, and Mr. Banyan’s Works. 
 
 This curious and rare copper-plate engraving, on 
 a large sheet, was published in 1663 ; soon after 
 the author was first sent to prison, the profits pro¬ 
 bably assisted in maintaining his family. It is now 
 engraved from an original impression in 1691, at 
 which time the words, “ Author of The Pilgrim's 
 Progress," and the publishers’ names, were added. 
 It has never been re-published in any edition of' 
 Bunyan’s Whole Works, until the present complete 
 series. It commences with a symbol of the Trinity; 
 on the one side is the line of grace, from election, by 
 every step of the ascent to eternal glory; and, on the 
 other, in a darker shade, the road from reprobation 
 to eternal ruin. The whole is interspersed with 
 poetry. 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE; or, The Doom and 
 the Downfall of the Fruitless Professor: showing 
 that the day of grace may be passed with him long 
 before his life is ended—the signs also by which such 
 miserable mortals may be known. A treatise founded 
 
 upon Luke xiii. 6-9... 560 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 560 
 
 To the Reader . 561 
 
 Introductory Remarks on the parable. 561 
 
 Two things to be taken notice of and to be inquired 
 into :— 
 
 First, The metaphors made use of: A certain man; a 
 vineyard ; a fig-tree, barren, or fruitless ; a dresser; 
 
 three years ; digging and dunging, &c. 562 
 
 Second, The doctrine or mysteries couched under such 
 metaphors :— 
 
 1. By the man in the parable is4 meant God the Father 562 
 
 2. By the vineyard, his church. . 563 
 
 3. By the fig-tree, a professor. 563 
 
 4. By the dresser, the Lord Jesus Christ. 570 
 
 5. By the fig-tree’s barrenness, the professor’s fruitless¬ 
 ness. 570 
 
 6. By the three years, the patience of God that for a 
 
 time he extendeth to barren profes«ors. 570 
 
 7. The calling to the dresser to cut it down, is to show 
 
 the outcries of justice against fruitless professors. 571 
 
 8. The dresser’s interceding shows how the Lord Jesus 
 steps in to stop or defer the execution of the sentence 
 
 on the barren fig-tree. 574 
 
 9. The dresser’s interceding shows how unwilling he is 
 
 that the barren fig-tree should perish. 574 
 
 10. His digging about and dunging it shows his willing- 
 
 ness to apply gospel help to the barren professor. 5<4 
 
 11. The supposition that the barren fig-tree may yet 
 continue fruitless, shows that after all is done there 
 
 are some professors will abide barren. 576 
 
 12. The determination at last, to cut it 4 down, is a 
 
 certain prediction of such professor’s unavoidable 
 destruction. 576 
 
 Proposition First. The day of grace ends with some 
 men before God taketh them out of the world; Cain, 
 Ishmael, and Esau, instances of this... 577 
 
 Signs of being past grace. 579 
 
 Proposition Second. The death, or cutting down of 
 such men will be dreadful. 5S4 
 
 LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 Advertisement by the Editor .—The Life and Death of 
 Mr. Badman supposed by some to have been intended 
 as a third part of The Pilgrim's Progress ; being 
 the downward road of a sinner to eternal misery; his 
 setting out; miserable career; wretched in the grati¬ 
 fication of the basest passions, and awfully impeni¬ 
 tent in death. 536 
 
 Five curious and interesting illustrations of the form 
 and manner in which the Life of Badman was first 
 published, being facsimiles of the engravings that 
 accompanied the first edition. 5S8 
 
CONTENTS OF THE ALLEGORICAL WORKS. 
 
 vn 
 
 The Author to the Reader . r )9G 
 
 Chap. I. Badman’s death and its evil consequences.... 593 
 This leads to the discourse of his life. 
 
 CnAP. II. Badman’s wicked behaviour in childhood ; 
 original sin is the root of actual transgression; Bad- 
 man addicted to lying from a child ; a lie knowingly 
 told demonstrates a desperately hard heart; the 
 liar’s portion ; an example for liars; a spirit of lying 
 accompanied with other sins ; Badman given to pil¬ 
 fer, and would rob his father ; more knit to his com¬ 
 panions than either father or mother, and would 
 rejoice to think ot their death ; counted thieving no 
 great matter ; the story of Old Tod ; Badman could 
 not abide the Lord’s day; given to swearing and 
 cursing; examples of God’s anger against them 
 that swear; a grievous thing to bring up children 
 wickedly. 5 g G 
 
 Chap. III. Badman put to be an apprentice to a pious 
 master; had all advantages to be good, but continued 
 Badman still; all good things abominable to him ; 
 how he used to behave at sermons ; the desperate 
 words of II. S.; Badman’s acquaintances; he becomes 
 a frequenter of taverns ; his master’s purse pays for 
 his drunkenness; a caution for masters ; Badman 
 becomes addicted to uncleanness ; what evils attend 
 this sin; Badman and his master abhor one another; 
 
 ^ Badman runs away from him..... G05 
 
 Chap. IV. Badman gets a new master as bad as him¬ 
 self; a sign and demonstration of God’s anger against 
 Badman ; masters should beware what servants they 
 entertain ; Badman and his master cannot agree, 
 and why; could bear the last master’s reproof better 
 than he could the first; by what means he came to 
 be completed in wickedness; out of his time, and 
 
 goes home to his father. G ll 
 
 Chap. V. Badman in business ; the tricks of a wicked 
 tradesman ; sets up for himself, and is almost as soon 
 set down again ; the reason of his running out; new 
 companions ; bad temper; his behaviour under his 
 
 r deca y?;. 61G 
 
 Ghap. VI. Badman’s hypocritical courtship and mar¬ 
 riage to a pious rich young lady ; neglect of counsel 
 about marriage dangerous ; his"wicked and ungodly 
 carriage; a great alteration quickly happens to Bad- 
 man’s wife ; his creditors come upon him; she reaps 
 the fruit of her unadvisedness ; he drives good com¬ 
 pany from his wife. gig 
 
 Chap. \ II. Badman throws off the mask, and cruelly 
 treats his wife; seeks to force her from her religion"; 
 her repentance and complaint; the evil of being 
 unequally yoked together ; a caution to youn° 
 maidens ; rules for those that are to marry ; Bad¬ 
 man s children by this good woman ; advantages of 
 the children of godly parents ; disadvantages of those 
 of ungodly parents ; contest between Badman and 
 his wife; his new discourse; having paid his debts 
 with his rich wife’s money, he sets up again, and 
 runs a great way into the debt of many ; there are 
 
 abundance like Mr. Badman. G20 
 
 C»ap. VIII. Badman a bankrupt, and gets by it “hat¬ 
 fuls ot moneyhow he managed things in order to 
 his breaking; his sugar words to his creditors, who 
 at last agree to what he propounds ; no plea for his 
 dishonesty ; the heinousness of this sin ; fair warn- 
 \ n o » g°°d advice; honest dealing with creditors ; 
 fraudulent bankruptcy of a professor a heavy blot 
 
 ^ upon religion ; such ought to be disowned. G28 
 
 Chap. IX. Badman s fraudulent dealings to get money ; 
 uses deceitful weights, scales, and measures ; the 
 sinfulness of such practices ; how Badman did cheat 
 and hide his cheating ; some plead custom to cheat; 
 they get nothing that cozen and cheat; more of Bad- 
 
 man’s bad tricks ; of extortion. G33 
 
 Chap. X. The simple Christian’s views of extortion ; 
 who are extortioners ; good conscience must be used 
 in selling ; we must not make prey of our neighbour’s 
 ignorance, necessity, or fondness of our commodity ; 
 
 PAOtt 
 
 we must use good conscience in buying ; charity 
 must be used in our dealings ; we should have an eye 
 to the glory of God in all our transactions ; Badman 
 
 used to laugh at those that told him of his faults. G37 
 
 Chap. XI. Instructions for righteous dealing ; how to 
 live in the practice of this ; wo ought to beware of 
 our own and our neighbour’s hurt; a judgment of 
 
 God.!...r.... GIG 
 
 Chap. XII. Badman’s pride, atheism, infidelity* and 
 envy; of pride in general; it sticks close to nature ; 
 two sorts of pride ; signs of a proud man ; professors 
 guilty of the sin of pride ; a stumbling-block to the 
 world ; why it is in such request; evil effects of 
 pride ; a general character of Badman, and brief 
 relation of his ways ; his judgment of the Scriptures ; 
 an angry, envious man ; whence envy flows ; some 
 
 of the births of envy ; a rare thing. Q12 
 
 Chap. XIII. Badman in some trouble of mind ; lie gets 
 drunk and breaks his leg ; it has no good effect upon 
 him ; how many sins accompany drunkenness; an 
 open stroke; God’s judgments upon drunkards; 
 Clark’s Looking-Glass for Sinners; Badman hills 
 
 sick. . g48 
 
 Chap. XIV. His pretended repentings and promises of 
 reform when death stares him in the face; his con¬ 
 science wounded, and he cries out in his sickness; his 
 atheism will not help him now ; a dreadful example 
 of God’s anger; what Badman did more when he 
 was sick ; great alteration in him ; the town-talk of 
 his change; his wife comforted ; he recovers, and 
 
 returns to his old course..... G19 
 
 Chap. XV. Death leaves Badman for a season, and he 
 returns to his sins like a sow that has been washed 
 to her wallowing in the mire; ignorant physicians 
 kill souls while they cure bodies ; the true symptoms 
 ot conversion wanting in all Badman’s sense of sin, 
 and desires of mercy; of sick-bed repentance, and 
 that it is to be suspected ; a sign of the desperate¬ 
 ness of man’s heart. G51 
 
 Chap. XVI. Badman’s wife’s heart is broken; her 
 Christian speech, and talk to her friends and her 
 husband ; he diverts her discourse; her speech to her 
 children that were rude; to her darling child who 
 followed her ways; her death ; one of her children 
 
 converted by her dying words. .. G52 
 
 Chap. XVII. Badman’s base language ; he is tricked 
 into a second marriage by a woman as bad as him¬ 
 self ; what she was, and how they lived ; he is pun¬ 
 ished in his second wife for his bad carriages towards 
 his first; he is not at all the better ; none did pity 
 him for his sorrow, but looked upon it as a just 
 reward. 
 
 Chap. XVIII. Badman, and this his last, wife, part as 
 poor as howlets; his sickness and diseases, of which he 
 died ; his name stinks when he is dead; that he dies 
 impenitent is proved ; how he carried it to good men 
 when they came to visit him in his last illness ; how 
 he was when near his end; the opinion of the ignor¬ 
 ant about his manner of dying. G55 
 
 Chap. XIX. Future happiness not to be hoped from a 
 quiet hardened death; how we must judge whether 
 men die well or no ; when we may judge of a man’s 
 eternal state by the manner of his death; account of 
 two of Badman’s brethren ; the story of John Cox ; 
 of dying in despair ; further discourse of Badman’s 
 death; he that, after a sinful life dies quietly, goes 
 to hell, proved ; sick-bed repentance seldom good for 
 anything; peace in a sinful state a sign of dam- 
 
 ^ nation. GOO 
 
 Chap. XX. Without godly repentance the wicked man’s 
 hope and life die together; a frivolous opinion; when 
 a wicked man dies in his sins quietly, it is a judg¬ 
 ment ot God upon the man himself, and also upon 
 his wicked companions that beholdeth him so to die; 
 the quiet death of a wicked man enough to puzzle 
 the wisest man; David himself was put to a stand 
 by this; enough to stagger a whole world; the godly 
 
 654 
 
 
 
vm 
 
 CONTENTS OF THE ALLEG011ICAL WORKS. 
 
 - 
 
 PAOB 
 
 have a sanctuary to go to, the Word of God, by 
 which the reasons of many of God’s judgments are 
 made known; conclusion of Badman’s life and death Gh3 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL ; or, The Groans 
 of a Damned Soul. An exposition of the parable of 
 the rich man and the beggar; wherein is discovered 
 the lamentable state of the damned ; their cries, 
 their desires in their distresses, with the determina¬ 
 tion of God upon them; a good warning word to 
 sinners, both old and young, to take into considera¬ 
 tion betimes, and to seek, by faith in Jesus Christ, 
 to avoid, lest they come into the same place of tor¬ 
 ment; also, a brief discourse touching the profitable¬ 
 ness of the Scriptures for our own instruction, in 
 the way of righteousness, according to the tendency 
 
 of the said parable. 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor ... 
 
 The preface by the Rev. John Gifford, Pastor of the 
 Church of Christ at Bedford, of which John Bunyan 
 was a member—this, after a long commendation of 
 the work, contains a most interesting account of the 
 author, his mean condition, and employment; the 
 sore shooting of the archers at him for his earnestness 
 and zeal in his Master’s work ; his magnifying and 
 exalting the Scriptures, and an exhortation to receive 
 
 with meekness his instructions. 
 
 Runyan’s preface; how dangerous to be walking to the 
 place of anguish and darkness, with the back to 
 heaven and the face to hell; hark, hear the bitter 
 cries of those newly gone before; stop before it be 
 
 too late. 
 
 The commentary on Luke xvi. 19-31 ; the beggar 
 holdeth forth the godly, and the rich man the un¬ 
 godly ; judging from outward appearances the rich 
 man was best off. 
 
 GG6 
 
 6GG 
 
 672 
 
 673 
 
 675 
 
 Ver. 20, 21. Saints, poor and contemned, comeut with 
 
 anything.* 
 
 Ver. 22. Death, burial, and ascension of tlie beggar; 
 
 the godly in death attended by glorious spirits. 
 
 Ver. 23. The rich man in torments sees the happiness 
 
 of Lazarus... 
 
 Ver. 24. The too late repentance of Dives ; his cry, 
 Send Lazarus with a drop of water, for I am tormented 
 
 in this flame ; nine reasons for this cry.. 
 
 Ver. 25. The cry of the wicked in hell availeth nothing; 
 the bitter recollection of a neglected salvation ; a 
 
 scalding hot remembrance of their sins. 
 
 Ver. 2G. The great and impassable gulf between heaven 
 
 and hell. 
 
 Ver. 27, 28. The prayer of Misery, Send a messenger 
 to my relatives; poor scrubbed, beggarly Lazarus, 
 the scabbed creep-hedge, as I once thought him, send 
 him to my sumptuous, gay house ; poor not to be 
 despised if they cannot speak Hebrew, Greek, and 
 Latin, like Pontius Pilate ; reasons why this prayer 
 
 was uttered. 
 
 Tkk Use and Application. —Shall I lose a long heaven 
 for a short pleasure ; consider the woes of those that 
 
 die out of Christ. 
 
 Ver. 29-31. They that will not hear Moses and the 
 Prophets would not listen to a messenger from 
 heaven... 
 
 G76 
 
 678 
 
 681 
 
 685 
 
 639 
 
 693 
 
 695 
 
 701 
 
 707 
 
 Hear the gospel for counsel, instruction, forewarning, 
 
 comfort; but to them that fall short, grief. 
 
 Five grounds or reasons why the Bible is undervalued. 
 Five uses by way of self-examination. 
 
 714 
 
 715 
 
 721 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL ; or, Serious Medita¬ 
 tions upon the Four Last Things— Death, judgment, 
 heaven, and hell. A Poem. 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor . 
 
 An Introduction to the ensuing discourse . 
 
 Of death. 
 
 Of judgment. 
 
 Of heaven. 
 
 Of hell, and the state of those who perish.. 
 
 PAOK 
 
 725 
 
 726 
 726 
 728 
 730 
 733 
 
 EBAL AND GERIZIM ; or, The Blessing and the 
 Curse : being a short exhortation to sinners by the 
 
 mercy and severity of God. A Poem. 
 
 The necessity of a new heart; the spirit of prayer. 
 
 Of godly fear; of uprightness and sincerity; how graces 
 
 are to be obtained ; of imputed righteousness. 
 
 Of holiness of life ; the operation of faith ; of love to 
 
 God... .. 
 
 Love inducing Christian conduct from Mount Ebal. 
 
 737 
 
 740 
 
 741 
 
 712 
 
 743 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS; or, Temporal 
 Things Spiritualized. In subsequent editions this 
 title page was altered to DIVINE EMBLEMS ; 
 or, Temporal Things Spiritualized, fitted for the use 
 
 of Boys and Girls. 746 
 
 Advertisement by the Editor .• ••• 746 
 
 The Author to the Courteous Reader. A Poetical 
 
 Preface .. 747 
 
 In this appears his love to children :— 
 
 “I think some may 
 
 Call me a baby, ’cause 1 with them play.” 
 
 These Emblems or Meditations are upon the following 
 
 subjects :— 
 
 i. Upon the barren fig-tree.. 718 
 
 ii. Upon the lark and the fowler ; in. Upon the vine ; 
 
 iv. Upon an egg... 749 
 
 v. Of fowls flying; vi. Upon the Lord’s Prayer ; vii. 
 
 Peep of day ; vm. The flint in the water; ix. Upon 
 
 the fish in the water. 750 
 
 x. Upon the swallow ; xi. The bee ; xn. A lowering 
 morning; xm. Over-much niceness; xiv. Upon a 
 
 candle.. —;. 751 
 
 xv. Upon the sacraments; xvi. Sun’s reflection on the 
 clouds; xvn. Upon apparel; xvm. The sinner and 
 the spider. i0 * 
 
 xix. Upon the dawn of day.. 754 
 
 xx. On the mole in the ground; xxi. Ot the cuckoo; 
 
 xxn. The boy and butterfly : xxm. The fly at the 
 candle. 
 
 XXIV. The rising sun; xxv. On promise of fruitfulness; 
 xxvi. Upon the thief; xxvii. The child and the bird 
 
 in the bush.• •... 
 
 xxviii. Of Moses and his wife; xxix. Ot the rose bush; 
 
 xxx. Of the sun’s going down. 
 
 xxxi. Upon the frog; xxxii. The whipping-top; xxxm. 
 Upon the pismire; xxxiv. The beggar; xxxv. The 
 
 horse and his rider.. 
 
 xxxvi. On a pound ot candles ; xxxvii. A penny loaf; 
 xxxvm. The boy and watch-maker; xxxix. On a 
 
 looking-glass... 
 
 xl. On the love of Christ ; xli. On a hen cackling; 
 xlii. Upon an hour-glass; xliii. On a snail, xliv. 
 
 On the spouse of Christ. 
 
 xlv. On a skilful player; xlvi. On man by nature ; 
 
 xlvii. Upon a disobedient child........ 
 
 xLViu. On a sheet of white paper; xlix. Upon fire..... 
 
 756 
 
 757 
 
 758 
 
 759 
 
 760 
 
 761 
 
 762 
 
T II E 
 
 PILGRIM’S PROGRESS 
 
 FROM 
 
 THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. 
 
 DELIVERED UNDER 
 
 THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 
 
 WHEREIN IS DISCOVERED THE MANNER OF HIS SETTING OUT, HIS DANGEROUS JOURNEY 
 
 AND SAFE ARRIVAL AT TIIE DESIRED COUNTRY. 
 
 * 1 have used similitudes .’—Hosea xii. 10. 
 
 LICENSED AND ENTERED ACCORDING TO ORDER. 
 
 London: Printed for Nath. Ponder, at the Peacock in the Poultry, 1678. 
 
 Now faithfully republished with all the additions and corrections made by the Author to the time of his decease in 
 
 August 16S8. 
 
 INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 LIFE A PILGRIMAGE THROUGH A STATE OF SPIRITUAL CON¬ 
 FLICTS ‘THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS’ A GUIDE TO ALL 
 HEAYENWARD PILGRIMS—THE AUTHOR FURNISHED WITH 
 LEISURE TIME TO WRITE IT, BY BEING SHUT UP IN PRI¬ 
 SON FOR REFUSING TO VIOLATE HIS CONSCIENCE. 
 
 ‘ Ar t 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.’ 
 
 Bunyan’s Apology for his Book. 
 
 The pilgrimage of life is a deeply-interesting subject, 
 coextensive with human nature; every individual 
 of our race is upon pilgrimage, from the cradle to 
 the grave. It is the progress of the soul through 
 time to enter upon a houndless eternity; beset on all 
 sides, at every avenue, and at every moment, with 
 spiritual foes of the deepest subtilty, journeying 
 from the commencement to the close of the course 
 through an enemy’s country, uncertain of the term 
 of existence, certain only that it must terminate 
 and usher us into an eternal state, either of exquisite 
 happiness, or awful misery. How natural that 
 every man s life should be called by its proper 
 name—a pilgrimage. 
 
 The patriarch felt this when he bowed before 
 Pharaoh, and said, ‘ The days of the years of my 
 pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years: few and 
 evil have the days of the years of my life been, and 
 have not attained unto the days of the vcars of the 
 VOL. III. 
 
 life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.’ 
 Ge. xivii. 9. David sang the statutes of the Lord in the 
 house of his pilgrimage. Fs. cxix. 54. And after the 
 lapse of ages, when the Volume of Inspiration was 
 about to close, tbe Holy Spirit continued the simile 
 in the apostolic epistles, ‘ and confessed that they 
 were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. ’ iieb. xi. 
 is. As such we are exhorted, ‘ I beseech you, as 
 strangers and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts.’ 
 l Pe. ii. ii. ‘ See then that ye walk circumspectly. ’ Ep. 
 v. is. ‘ So run, that ye may obtain. ’ l Co. ix. 24. These 
 are instructions that reach the heart of every Chris¬ 
 tian convert throughout the world; all are warned of 
 the necessity of sobriety and vigilant watchfulness, 
 
 ‘ because your adversary, the devil, as a roaring 
 lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. ’ 
 l Pe. v. s. ‘ He shall cast some of you into prison, that 
 ye may be tried; be thou faithful unto death, and 
 I will give thee a crown of life.’ Re. ii. 10 . 
 
 All mankind are pilgrims; all are pressing 
 through this world: the Christian willingly con¬ 
 siders that his life is a journey, because he is seek¬ 
 ing a better country; but the greater multitude 
 are anxious to prevent the recollection, that time is 
 a preparation for eternity, and, in consequence of 
 this neglect, they shudder when approaching the 
 brink of the grave, into which they are irresistibly 
 plunged. Although perpetual examples warn them 
 that suddenly, at a moment when they least expect 
 the fatal catastrophe, it may befall them, still, as 
 if infatuated, they make no inquiry of the Holy 
 
 1 
 

 ■M? 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 
 
 Oracles as to how they can escape the second death; 
 but take the miserable counsel of some ‘ worldly- 
 wise man,’ and seek a refuge in lies, which death 
 will terribly sweep away; or they wholly neglect 
 any preparation for so important and certain, if 
 not sudden, an event. All are on the advance; 
 time hurries on those whose pilgrimage is limited j 
 to the foul, but fascinating streets of the ‘ city of 
 destruction, ’ to their eternal doom; while those 
 whose anxious cries lead them to the Christian 
 calling, press on in the narrow and difficult path 
 that leads to the heavenly Jerusalem. 
 
 To condense the instructions given to the pilgrim 
 in the Inspired Writings into a map of the road, a 
 guide or hand-book to the celestial city, a help to 
 Zion’s travellers, and a faithful warning to the 
 votaries who crowd the broad road to ruin, was a 
 labour of love for its vast importance, worthy of 
 the highest powers of human intellect, the warmest 
 Christian philanthropy. It is surprising that a 
 work which so naturally suggests itself to the 
 imagination, and which is of such universal interest, 
 was delayed so long. The abstruse dreams of 
 Jewish rabbies, the splendid figures and scenery 
 that floated before the minds of Oriental and Greek 
 sages, and the intense subtlety of the schoolmen of 
 the Middle Ages, were intended for a very limited 
 class, excluding all but those who were their imme¬ 
 diate disciples; and all tlieir instructions having a 
 direct tendency to lead them from the highway of 
 happiness, to wander in the mazes of a senseless 
 sophistry, or, to use the apostle’s words, ‘ spoil 
 them through philosophy and vain deceit.’ It was 
 a work that could only be prepared by an expanded 
 soul, above all sectarian bias, by one who could, 
 with unbounded charity, embrace all nations, all 
 tongues, and every people, as brethren in the vast 
 dominions of his God ; by one who felt that human 
 happiness would not be perfect until this universe 
 became the kingdom of his Christ. Such a hal¬ 
 lowed and sanctified mind alone could furnish his 
 fellow-sinners with an epitome of the way to the 
 celestial city, equally acceptable to Christians of 
 all denominations. 
 
 To write for the instruction of the whole family 
 of man, is not the province of a bigoted sectarian, 
 whose visions of happiness extend no further than 
 to embrace his own immediate disciples. Had 
 ancient sages, or more modern schoolmen, felt their 
 brotherhood to the whole human race, knowing that 
 every individual, of all sects or parties, is fulfilling 
 his pilgrimage through the short space of time 
 allotted to fit him for an unbounded eternity, 
 surely some of the great and illustrious philosophers 
 of bygone ages would have attempted to complete 
 an allegory, the outline of which had been given 
 in the earliest of records—the Holy Oracles. No 
 trace, however, has as yet been found in Hebrew, 
 
 Oriental, Greek, or Latin literature, of such an 
 attempt. The honour of producing this extraor¬ 
 dinary work, in a surprising degree of perfection, 
 was reserved to a later age, and was conferred upon 
 an Englishman; a man, as to human learning, un¬ 
 lettered, but deeply learned in the school of Christ, 
 and profoundly skilled in all the subtleties of the 
 human heart; upon a man connected with a deno¬ 
 mination eminent for love of Christian liberty, and 
 ,for hazardous, but resolute obedience and con¬ 
 formity to every institute which they found in the 
 New Testament; and therefore everywhere spoken 
 against, and bitterly persecuted. 
 
 This important work was destined to be accom¬ 
 plished by a preaching mechanic, not vainly or 
 falsely claiming, but really possessing the true 
 evidence of apostolic descent in spirit and in truth, 
 as his works and afflictions fully proved; to a man, 
 while suffering under the tyranny of Antichrist, 
 whose judges and officers shut him up to languish 
 in a noisome prison for twelve years and a half of 
 the prime of his life; thus vainly attempting to 
 bend his free, his heaven-born spirit, to submit, 
 or pretend to submit, to what he considered to be 
 popish and unchristian forms and ceremonies, and 
 to compel him to conform to the church established 
 by law; having at its head, at that time, the most 
 debauched monarch in Europe. 
 
 He was apprehended while conducting the public 
 worship of God, and sent to prison in Bedford jail. 
 The indictment preferred against him was, ‘ That 
 John Bunyan, of the town of Bedford, labourer, 
 hath devilishly and perniciously abstained from 
 coming to church to hear Divine service, and is a 
 common upholder of several unlawful meetings and 
 conventicles, to the great disturbance and distrac¬ 
 tion of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary 
 to the laws of our sovereign lord the King.’ To 
 which he pleaded, ‘ We have had many meetings 
 together, both to pray to God, and to exhort one 
 another; and that we had the sweet comforting 
 presence of the Lord among us for our encourage¬ 
 ment ; blessed be his name therefor ! I confess 
 myself guilty no otherwise.’ No witnesses were 
 examined, but a plea of guilty was recorded; and 
 his sentence was, ‘You must be had back again to 
 prison, and lie there for three months following; 
 and, at the three months’ end, if you do not sub¬ 
 mit, and go to church to hear Divine service, and 
 leave your preaching, you must be banished the 
 realm; and if, after such a day as shall be ap¬ 
 pointed you to be gone, you shall be found in this 
 realm, you must stretch by the neck for it, I tell 
 you plainly; and so he [the justice] bid the jailer 
 have him away .’ 1 
 
 This was soon after the restoration of Charles II., 
 
 1 Bunyan’s own account of his imprisonment, vol. i. pp. 56, 57. 
 
 J 
 

 INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 when a persecuting hierarchy having been re-in¬ 
 stated in power, revived obsolete and tyrannical 
 laws. The mechanic, or fisherman, shall not 
 preach or teach, was the sullen, stern voice of 
 despotic authority. But, at the imminent risk of 
 transportation, and even of death, the pious and 
 highly-talented mechanic, John Bunyan, perse¬ 
 vered in instructing the peasantry who came within 
 the reach of his voice. He was for this, and for 
 not attending his parish church, seized and sent to 
 Bedford jail; and, by the overruling power of his 
 God, the means that were thus used to prevent his 
 voice from being heard by a few poor labourers, 
 opened to this persecuted disciple of Christ the 
 path to honour, as well as to lasting and most 
 extensive usefulness. 
 
 Dragged from the arms of his affectionate wife, 
 who was brought to death’s door by painful appre¬ 
 hensions that his life would be sacrificed; bereaved 
 of the company of his children, and of personal 
 communion with the little flock of Christ to which 
 he ministered, this holiest, most harmless, and 
 useful of men was incarcerated in a jail, with felons 
 and the most degraded characters. But ‘surely 
 the wrath of man shall praise thee: the remainder 
 of wrath shalt thou restrain,’ 0 Lord. Ps.ixxvi.io. 
 Here he finds a resting-place, with leisure time to 
 write his far-famed allegory; here, having com¬ 
 mended his bereaved wife and infant family to the 
 protection of the King of kings, even in that 
 den, with a conscience void of offence, and full of 
 spiritual peace, he tranquilly reposed, waiting with 
 resignation the will of his heavenly Father. How 
 strange a dwelling for one so highly honoured of 
 God! how unearthly a mode of fitting him for his 
 glorious destination, to shine as a star in the 
 heavenly firmament, and to occupy a mansion in 
 glory! He who thinks that happiness, or holiness, 
 or true honour, is to be measured by temporal 
 grandeur, makes a false estimate, and knows little 
 of the ways of God. 
 
 ‘ These walls and bars cannot a prison make, 
 r J he freeborn soul enjoys its liberty; 
 
 These clods of earth it may incaptivate, 
 
 Whilst heavenly minds are conversant on high. 
 Ranging the fields of blessed eternity.’ 1 
 
 The poor persecuted Christian was free from 
 that mental wretchedness which cankered the souls 
 of his persecutors; one of these, named Fecken- 
 ham, whose violent conduct will be presently seen, 
 died miserably while Bunyan was in prison; 2 and 
 
 1 From a poem by Stephen Colledge, a preaching mechanic, 
 written a few days before he suffered death, August 1681. 
 
 2 He was called, in Bedford, the grand informer. Such 
 were the indignant feelings of his neighbours, that his widow 
 was unable to hire a hearse, but took his body in a cart to the 
 grave. See Narrative of Proceedings against the Noncon¬ 
 formists at Bedford , 4to, 1670, in the Editor’s possession. 
 
 the Christian inhabitants of Bedford trembled under 
 the thought, that his wretched end was one of the 
 just judgments of God upon persecutors. We 
 must be, however, very careful in such conclusions. 
 Every solemn event, in Divine providence, is not 
 to be considered a judgment upon those who have 
 offended God. Thus, when Charles II. said to 
 Milton, ‘ Your loss of sight is a judgment of God 
 upon you for your sins committed against my 
 father;’ the intrepid poet dared to answer, ‘Does 
 your Majesty judge so? then how much greater 
 must have been the sins of your royal father, seeing 
 that I have only lost my sight, while he lost his 
 eyes, and head, and all ! ’ 
 
 Notwithstanding that Bunyan fully anticipated 
 an ignominious death, his days were spent as hap- 
 jfilyas the prison discipline would permit. Working 
 to provide for his family—studying his Bible—in¬ 
 structing his fellow-prisoners—and writing on the 
 most important subjects—must have fully occupied 
 every moment of his time. And it was here, in 
 this den, that his vivid imagination conceived, and 
 his pen wrote this wondrous Pilgrimage, under the 
 similitude of a dream. And when it was published 
 to the world, he by it preached, and is now preach¬ 
 ing, not merely to a few villagers in the neighbour ■ 
 hood of Bedford, but is making known the glad 
 tidings of salvation, the way of escape from tho 
 city of destruction, the pilgrim’s path to heaven, to 
 millions of every clime. 
 
 Thus do the emissaries of Satan ever overreach 
 themselves. So it was when the Bishop of London 
 paid a large price for a few score of English New 
 Testaments, to burn them. The money that 
 Tyndale received from Tonstall enabled him to 
 publish a new and superior edition, corrected in 
 the translation, and which was extensively circu¬ 
 lated. Some of these remain to this day, 3 a 
 monument to the faithfulness, the piety, and the 
 talent of the translator, and to the folly of perse¬ 
 cution. It led Tyndale to sing— 
 
 ‘ The devilish imps did strive to have 
 For the Holy Book a burning grave. 
 
 But all their travail was in vain, 
 
 God multiplied it quick again. 
 
 The pope and devil are scared and wondered, 
 
 Their gold burns one, but makes a hundred.’ 4 
 
 The ^wopld w ould probably have heard but little 
 of John Bunyan—he might, with thousands of 
 similar valuable characters, have remained com¬ 
 paratively unknown—had not the natural enmity 
 of the human heart to the simple, but Divine truths 
 
 3 A line perfect copy is iu the Editor’s library. 
 
 4 On an ancient painting of Tyndale, the martyr, in pos¬ 
 session of the Editor. Under an emblematical device, on one 
 side of the portrait, is the poetical description. The represen¬ 
 tation is of a book tied to a stake, burning, while a number 
 of similar books are flying out of Tie tire. 
 
 
 
4 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 of Christianity, excited wicked men to_acts of per- j 
 sedition. ' Grafty And designing priests, utider tlie 
 pretence of the sole cure of souls, engrossed tlie 
 patronage of the state, enjoyed exalted dignities 
 among their fellow-men, and appropriated to them¬ 
 selves immense wealth. To preserve this worldly 
 eminence, they sought to stay the onward improve¬ 
 ment of the human mind, and the progress of 
 Divine truth. To effect this object, they resorted 
 to an old plan which had been often tried, and had 
 as often eminently failed. It was the obsolete 
 system of tyranny similar to that which cast the 
 three Hebrew youths into the fiery furnace, Daniel 
 into the den of lions, and had martyred tliou&ands 
 of God’s saints—a system opposed not only to reason 
 and common sense, but to the operations of God in 
 nature. It was to compel uniformity in modes of 
 worship, and matters of faith; to bind the spirit in 
 fetters, and to prevent those personal inquiries into 
 religion which are so strictly enjoined in the Word 
 of God. The mode of a sinner’s access and ap¬ 
 proach to the throne of Divine grace, was limited 
 to the same dull round of forms and ceremonies 
 under all circumstances ; in fine, it demanded the 
 entire prostration of the immortal mind before the 
 claim of priestcraft to infallibility. Such a sys¬ 
 tem required the support of violence and tyranny. 
 Therefore it was enacted by law, that all should 
 constantly attend the parish church, and go through 
 the prescribed service, upon pain of fine, imprison¬ 
 ment, transportation, or death. If any benevolent 
 person, not connected with the sect of religion 
 taken into partnership with the state, was detected 
 in visiting and praying with the sick, teaching the 
 ignorant the way to heaven, comforting the dis¬ 
 tressed conscience, or converting sinners to holiness, 
 he was doomed to imprisonment, that such useful 
 
 labours might be stopped. 
 
 By this time, the Bible, which for ages had been 
 concealed, was widely circulated among the people; 
 education had spread abroad the means of examin¬ 
 ing those sacred pages; while a holy ministry, 
 under the Commonwealth, had extensively sown 
 the seeds of life. Many felt the powers of the 
 world to come; hundreds of thousands had been 
 taught the Assembly’s Catechism, and had sanc¬ 
 tioned the Confession of Faith; while upwards of 
 twenty thousand had become united in Baptist 
 churches. Multitudes of godly men and women, 
 of all denominations, were proving the sincerity 
 and truth of their Cliristain profession by their 
 harmless, benevolent, and pious conduct. The 
 death of Oliver Cromwell let loose those ambitious 
 and licentious spirits, which had been for some 
 years kept under severe restraint. It opened the 
 way for the restoration of the old System of ex¬ 
 travagance, tyranny, and iniquity. Like streams 
 long pent up, they now rolled on with resistless 
 
 violence, filling their course with the tears of the 
 virtuous, and the oaths of the profane. 
 
 The Puritans, by their simple habits of life, had 
 secured many comforts, which excited the thirst 
 of plunder,-and the enemies of Divine truth en¬ 
 tered with alacrity upon the work of wholesale 
 persecution and spoliation. Among the first of 
 those upon whom the hand of tyranny fell, was 
 John Bun van, a man who had determined, at all 
 costs, to maintain his integrity. With the most 
 inflexible devotion to his Saviour, he preferred 
 death to hypocrisy, and would submit to no com¬ 
 promise with the enemies of his soul’s happiness 
 and salvation. In the face of most imminent 
 danger, he dared not pretend to believe that tlie 
 priest could, by any ceremony, convert an infant 
 into a child of God, and an inheritor of the king¬ 
 dom of heaven; or that one poor feeble, sinful man 
 had power to forgive the sins of his fellow-trans¬ 
 gressor. He dared not conform to ceremonies 
 which were not commanded in Holy Writ. lie 
 could not unite with a system which, in his con¬ 
 science, he believed to be directly and essentially 
 opposed to Christianity; inasmuch as it prevented 
 free inquiry, and usurped the throne of God, iri 
 wickedly attempting, by coercive laws, to regulate 
 or direct tlie mode in which the soul shall publicly 
 
 worship the God of salvation. Bunyan refused__ 
 
 obedience to laws that interfered with the sacred 
 rights of conscience. His free immortal spirit was 
 not to be confined by articles, creeds, and confes¬ 
 sions made by fallible mortals. He persevered 
 in his pious benevolent course, and the tyrants 
 immured him in a prison. Here his God-most 
 eminently honoured and blessed him, and, by his 
 providence and grace, consecrated him to be a 
 guide and companion to Christian pilgrims of 
 every country, and every age, while on their way 
 from the city of destruction to their celestial and 
 eternal habitation in glory. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE ‘PILGRIM’S PROGRESS’ WRITTEN IN PRISON—DIFFICUL¬ 
 TIES THROWN IN THE WAY OF ITS PUBLICATION. 
 
 The most important events have arisen out of 
 circumstances very different to what reason could 
 have expected. The great Lawgiver of Israel 
 was a poor foundling. The Redeemer of the world 
 was born in a stable. The sublime Revelations of 
 John were written by an exile in a penal settle¬ 
 ment. The universal guide to Christian pilgrims 
 was the unaided work of an unlettered mechanic, 
 while a prisoner for conscience sake. So unsearch¬ 
 able are the ways of God: 
 
 * Behind a frowning providence 
 He hides a smiling face.’ 
 
INTRODUCTION BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 5 
 
 * Out of the eater came forth meat.’ ju. xiv. h. «The 
 aa 1 ath of man shall praise tlicc,’ 0 God ! How 
 wretched is the state of those persecutors who, like 
 Satan, are found fighting against the Almighty! To 
 prevent the pious and talented John Bunyan from 
 doing good, state religion shut him up in a noisome 
 jail; and how remarkably was it overruled for the 
 attainment of the very object they intended to pre¬ 
 vent ! \\ hat fearful odds—the power of the state, 
 priests and justices, armed with Acts of Parliament, 
 to compel uniformity in faith and practice, are linked 
 together to crush a poor tinker! he preaches the 
 glad tidings of salvation to a few poor trembling 
 sinners; they are converted; from being pests to 
 society, they become valuable and useful citizens; 
 it is effected in a barn—the pomp and ceremonies 
 and vestments used in a consecrated building are 
 set at nought. The kingdom of Christ increased, 
 with all its blessed effects, without the aid of a 
 learned education. God must be prevented from 
 thus going with, and blessing his devoted and 
 humble servant, in a way so contrary to Acts of 
 Parliament and human pride; the justices meet— 
 they warn their destined prey, and endeavour to 
 cajole him into obedience and spiritual slavery; he 
 saw their hostile array, he knew their extensive 
 powers—to imprison, transport, put to an igno¬ 
 minious death. What could a poor tinker do 
 under such alarming circumstances ? lie had a 
 refuge and a friend that they saw not, knew not. 
 He took counsel with his God, and, while in the 
 path of duty, felt that he had a wall of fire round 
 about him, that all things must work together for 
 good. He went calmly on his way. The warrant 
 was issued by Justice Wingate, a name known only 
 for this deed of iniquity. It was the first attempt 
 in that county at persecution. The place at which 
 the meeting was held is called Samsell. He was 
 warned by the enemies of truth, in the hopes that 
 he would fly, and that they might triumph. The 
 T J osse comitcdus was raised, and the liers-in-wait 
 ‘ kept a very strong watch about the house;’ 
 his timid friends begged of him to fiy; he walked 
 into a close, to hold communion with his God; lie 
 went into the meeting with his spiritual strength 
 renewed. When requested by his poor friends, 
 who were alarmed for his safety, not to hold the 
 meeting, lie said, ‘ I will not stir, neither will I 
 have the meeting dismissed for this. Come, be 
 of good cheer, let us not be daunted ; our cause is 
 good, we need not be ashamed of it.’ He com¬ 
 menced the service with prayer, during which he 
 was not interrupted. He named his text: ‘ Dost 
 thou believe on the Son of God V Jn. ix. 35; in¬ 
 tending to show the absolute need of faith in 
 Jesus Christ, and that it Avas also a thing of the 
 highest concern for men to inquire into, and 
 to ask their own hearts whether they had it or 
 
 no. 1 But before he could enter upon this import¬ 
 ant inquiry, the constable approached, produced 
 his warrant, and put his hand upon his person. 
 Bunyan looked at him ; the man turned pale, with¬ 
 drew his hand, and trembled; it was the first vic¬ 
 tim that he had arrested under those wicked laws. 
 After a few w r ords of counsel and encouragement 
 to the people, he surrendered himself to the officer; 
 and upon his refusal to leave off preaching, the jus¬ 
 tice committed him to Bedford jail, where he lav, 
 under a cruel sentence, for nearly thirteen years. 
 
 We may easily imagine the alarm and misery 
 felt by his affectionate Avife and his four children, 
 one of wdiom Avas blind, and the Avhole community 
 of dissenters in that part of the country. Anti¬ 
 christ appeared to triumph. It is very probable 
 that his fellow-worshippers would humble them¬ 
 selves before God, and, Avith broken hearts, inquire 
 Avhat peculiar crimes they had been guilty of to 
 call fortli this severe chastisement. They might 
 call to remembrance the language of David, ‘ Thv 
 judgments are a great deep;’ and be comforted 
 Avith his following Avords, ‘ 0 Lord, thou preservest 
 man.’ Who could have imagined that the jail 
 Avas to be his study, his Bethel, and the means of 
 his preaching to millions of his fellow-sinners, in 
 all ages and languages! ‘ 0 the depth of the 
 
 riches, both of the Avisdom and knowledge of God! 
 How unsearchable are his judgments, and his 
 Avays past finding out! ’ 
 
 In possession of a strong bodily frame, and of 
 that robust health which arises from incessant 
 activity in the open air ; travelling about the 
 country to obtain means of support to his family 
 by his labours, and exerting himself on the day of 
 rest by proclaiming in the villages the glad tidings 
 of salvation ; from a state of incessant activity, he 
 Avas suddenly incarcerated in a jail, situated on a 
 bridge, and over the centre of the river ; the small 
 damp dens being on a level with the Avater. Had 
 he been sent there for crime, it might have rapidly 
 affected his health and spirits; but he Avas called 
 to suffer, that the cause of truth might be hon¬ 
 oure d, and to pre¬ 
 
 serve hi k health, a nd to comfort and support his 
 mirmwlth tliosc-SuppTies of happiness to which the 
 Avorhf sir anger, and which it can neither give 
 
 nor take away. 2 
 
 V 
 
 1 See Preface to his ‘Confession of Faith,’ vol. ii. p. 593. 
 
 2 The hank of this river, Ouse, had been famous for the mag¬ 
 nificent mausoleum of Olfa, king of the Mercians, one of the 
 illustrious murderers and robbers of his time, from whom the 
 Editor’s family, in their foolish vanity, claim descent; but this, 
 as Camden says, ‘a more violent and swifter stream than ordi¬ 
 nary in a flood swouped clean away.’ Upon the bridge being 
 erected, a pier was raised from the river to support the two 
 centre arches; and in this pier was liunyan’s gloomy prison. 
 This dark place, a fit habitation for cruelty, has also bhen swept 
 away. The eye of John Howard, in 1788, penetrated into 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 At the assizes, a plea of guilty was recorded; 
 and although numerous prisoners, charged with 
 crimes, were liberated at the coronation of Charles 
 II., his case did not come within the proclamation, 
 and he appeared to be doomed to hopeless imprison¬ 
 ment or to an untimely end. Happily, the regu¬ 
 lations of the jail allowed him the use of his Bible 
 and Fox’s Book of Martyrs, and of the materials 
 for writing. His time was beguiled with tagging 
 laces to provide for his poor family; in praying, 
 with and exhorting his fellow-prisoners, and in 
 the composing of books, which were extensively 
 published, for the instruction of the world. He 
 soon became, like Joseph in Pharaohs prison, a 
 favourite with the jailer, who was at times severely 
 threatened for the privileges he allowed this 
 prisoner for Christ. Among the books that he 
 wrote in prison, Ave shall find that the most pro¬ 
 minent and important one Avas the ‘ Pilgrim s I ro- 
 gress.’ Charles Doe, who was a personal friend 
 of Mr. Bunyan’s, and avIio called him ‘ an apostle 
 of our age/if we have any,’ thus narrates the fact 
 in his Strugcjler for the Preservation of Mr. John 
 Bunyan’s Labours ‘ In the year 1660 (being the 
 year King Charles returned to England), having 
 preached about five years, the rage of gospel ene¬ 
 mies Avas so great, that, November 12th, they took 
 him prisoner, at a meeting of good people, and 
 put him in Bedford jail; and there he continued 
 about six years, and then was let out again, 1666. 
 Being the year of the burning of London, and a 
 little°after his release, they took him again, at a 
 meeting, and put him in the same jail, Avhere he 
 lay six years more. And after he Avas released 
 again, they took him again, and put him in prison 
 the third time ; but that proved but for about half 
 a year. Whilst he was thus jtwelye years and a 
 half in prison, lie wrote several of his published 
 books, as by many of their epistles appearsas 
 ‘ Pray by the Spirit,’ ‘ Holy City,’ ‘ Resurrection, 
 
 * Grace Abounding,’ and others ; also, * * The Pil¬ 
 grim’s Progress,’ as himself and many others 
 have said.’ Mr. Doe thus argues upon the fact: 
 
 this den, and lie thus described it:—‘The men and women 
 felons associate together; their night rooms are two dungeons 
 —only one court for debtors and felons no infirmary no 
 Path.’-—Howard’s Lazarettoes and Prisons, 4to, 1789, p. 150. 
 Well might Runyan call it ‘a den! 5 The gate-house was 
 pulled down in 1765, and the prison was demolished very soon 
 after Howard had unveiled its gloomy wretchedness. The 
 bridge was only fourteen feet wide; the dungeons must have 
 been small iudeed. How strange an apartment did God select 
 for his servant, in Avhich to write this important book ! 
 
 1 A deeply-interesting paper usually appended to Bunyan s 
 
 Works, folio, 1692. _ , 
 
 2 Upon his first release from prison, in 1666, he published 
 «Grace Abounding,’ and in the title-page states ‘ also what he 
 hath met with in prison. All which was written by his own 
 hand there.’ The Preface to ‘A Defence of Justification’ is 
 dated from prison, 1671. So his ‘Confession: ‘ lhine in 
 bonds for the gospel.’ 
 
 < And I reckon I shall not be out of the way if I 
 observe and say, What- hath-the devil oi his agents 
 gotten by putting our great gospel minister,. Bun¬ 
 yan, in prison? for in prison, as before mentioned, 
 he Avrote many excellent books, that have published 
 toAhe .world his gre.a.t grace, and great truth,., and 
 oreat judgment, and great ingenuity; and to in¬ 
 stance, in one, ‘ The Pilgrim’s Progress,’ he hath 
 suited to the life of a traveller so exactly and 
 pleasantly, and to the life of a Christian, that this 
 very book, besides the rest, hath done the super¬ 
 stitious sort of men and their practice more harm, 
 or rather good, as I may call it, than if lie had 
 been let alone at his meeting at Bedford to preach 
 the gospel to his own auditory, as it might have 
 fallen out; for none but priest-ridden people know 
 how to cavil at it, it wins so smoothly upon their 
 affections, and so insensibly distils the gospel into 
 them; and hath been printed in France, Holland, \ 
 Neiv England, and in Welsh, and about a hundred \ 
 thousand in England, whereby they are made some 
 means of grace, and the author become famous, 
 and may be the cause of spreading his other gospel 
 books over the European and American world, and, 
 in process of time, may be so to the whole universe. 
 
 This agrees with Bunyan’s marginal glossaiy, 
 as to the place Avhere he Avas located when visited 
 Avitli this wondrous dream. ‘As I walked through 
 the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain 
 place, Avhere Avas a den ; and I laid me down in 
 that place to sleep; and as I slept I dreamed a 
 dream.’ The marginal note to that ‘ place wheie 
 was a den,’ is ‘ The Jail.’ This Avas first added 
 to the fourth edition, 1680 ; he had probably been 
 asked, what Avas meant by the den, and from that 
 time, in every edition, he publishes that his meaning 
 Avas, ‘The Jail.’ That Bunyan attached much 
 importance to these marginal notes, as a key to his 
 Avorks, is plainly stated in his verses to the reader 
 of the ‘Holy War:’— 
 
 Nor do thou go to work without my key 
 (lu mysteries men soon do lose their way), 
 
 And also turn it right, if thou would’st know 
 
 My riddle, and would’st with my heifer plough. 
 
 * The Jt lies there in the window,^ fare thee well, 
 
 Margent. My next may be to r i ng thy passing-bell. 
 
 No language can be plainer. The author wishes 
 all his readers to understand where he conceived 
 and Avrote the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress.’ He says that 
 it was in ‘a den.’ He puts his key to this word 
 in the windoAv, and upon turning the key right, 
 it discovers the den to be Bedford jail. In this 
 dismal den he tranquilly slept; like the Psalmist, 
 he feared not ten thousands of people, ‘ I laid me 
 doA\ r n and slept: I awaked, for the Lord sustained 
 me.’ And Avliy? It Avas because * I cried unto the 
 Lord,’ ‘thou, 0 Lord, art a shield for me; my 
 glory, and the lifter up of mine head.’ Ps. ffi. Like 
 
INTRODUCTION BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 Peter, with a conscience void of offence, ‘lie slept 
 while a prisoner in a jail.' And although Bunyan 
 had no angel from heaven to open the prison doors 
 before him, he had that heavenly communion which 
 filled his soul with peace, and fitted him to write 
 fui the instruction of mankind. The rapidity with 
 which the conception of the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ 
 came over his mind and was reduced to writing, 
 he thus describes :— 
 
 ‘ 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; 
 
 Tins done, I twenty more had in my crown; 
 
 And they again began to multiply. 
 
 Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. 
 
 N ay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, 
 
 111 put you by yourselves, lest you at last 
 Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out 
 The book that I already am about. 
 ***** 
 
 Thus I set pen to paper with delight. 
 
 And quickly had my thoughts in black and white, 
 f or having now my method by the end, 
 
 Still as I pull’d, it came; and so I penn’d 
 It down; until at last it came to be. 
 
 For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.’ 
 
 This simple statement requires no comment. 
 In jail he was writing some book of ‘ the way and 
 race of saints, most probably his own spiritual 
 expei ience, when the idea came over his mind to 
 represent a Christian’s course from his conviction 
 of sin to his arrival in glory, as a journey from the 
 city of destruction to the celestial city. This is 
 the opinion, very elegantly expressed, of Dr. 
 Cheever; ‘ As you read the “ Grace Abounding,’’ 
 you are^re^dy-io at every step, .Here is the 
 future author of the “ Pilgrim’s Progress.” It is 
 as if y ou stood by the side of some great sculptor, 
 and watched every movement of his chisel, having 
 had his design explained to you before, so that at 
 every blow some new trait of beauty in the future 
 statue comes clearly into view.’ While thus em¬ 
 ployed, he was suddenly struck with the thought 
 of his great allegory, and at once commenced 
 writing it, and in a short time his first part was 
 completed. It may be inferred that he wrote 
 these two books about the same time, because 
 what he omitted in the first edition of ‘Grace 
 Abounding’ he also omitted in the first edition of 
 the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ but inserted it in the sub¬ 
 sequent editions of both these books; one of these 
 is his singular illustration of gospel truth from the 
 unclean beasts, being those that neither chewed 
 the cud nor divided the hoof—one of the conver¬ 
 sations between Hopeful and Christian. This is 
 also introduced as an addition to ‘Grace Abound¬ 
 ing, No. 71. It was familiar with Bunyan to 
 
 connect the term ‘den ’ with his cell in the prison 
 I hus, when narrating his spiritual imprisonment in 
 Doubting Castle, the Giant, instead of ordering 
 his piisoners to their cell or dungeon, says, ‘ Gel 
 you down into your den again.’ So also’in the 
 preface to ‘ Grace Abounding, ’lie thus addresses his 
 converts: ‘I being taken from you in presence, 
 and so tied up that I cannot perform that duty 
 tnat from God doth lie upon me to youward, I 
 now once again, as before, from the top of Slienir 
 and Ilermon, so now from the lion’s den - do look 
 yet after you all, greatly longing to see your safe 
 arrival into the desired haven. ’ 
 
 The continuation of ‘ Grace Abounding ’ was 
 written by ‘a true friend and long acquaintance ’ of 
 Mi. Bunyan s; ‘ That his good end may be known 
 as well as his evil beginning, I have taken upon 
 me from my knowledge, and the best account given 
 by other of his friends, to piece this to the thread, 
 too soon broken off, and so lengthen it out to his 
 entering upon eternity.’ In this we are told of 
 ns long imprisonment, and that in prison he 
 wrote the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ First Part. The 
 mode in which it was written, and the use made 
 of. * n illustrating liis addresses to his fellow- 
 
 piisoners, has been handed down by one of them_ 
 
 Mr. Marsom, an estimable and pious preacher, who 
 was confined with Mr. Bunyan in Bedford jail, for 
 conscience’ sake. His grand-daughter married Mr. 
 Gurney, the grandfather of the late Baron Gurney, 
 and of W. B. Gurney, Esq., his brother, the justly- 
 venerated Treasurer of the Baptist Missionary 
 Society, and he furnished me with the following 
 facts: ‘ Thomas Marsom was an ironmonger, and 
 pastor of the Baptist Church at Luton; he’died in 
 January 1726, at a very advanced age. This 
 Thomas Marsom was a fellow-prisoner with Bun¬ 
 yan ; and my grandfather, who knew him well, was 
 in the habit of repeating to his son, my father, 
 many interesting circumstances which he had 
 heaid from him, connected with his imprisonment. 
 One of these was, that Bunyan read the manuscript 
 of the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress ’ to his fellow-prisoners, 
 requesting their opinion upon it. The descriptions 
 naturally excited a little pleasantry, and Marsom, 
 who was of a sedate turn, gave his opinion against 
 the publication ; but on reflection, requested per¬ 
 mission to take the manuscript to his own cell, 
 that he might read it alone. Having done so, he 
 leturned it with an earnest recommendation that 
 it should be published. ’ How easily can we ima¬ 
 gine the despised Christians in prison for their 
 Lord’s sake, thus beguiling the dreary hours. 
 How admirably could the poor preacher illustrate 
 his discourses to his fellow-prisoners by the various 
 adventures of his pilgrims. He had received calls 
 to join more wealthy churches, but ho affection¬ 
 ately cleaved to his poor flock at Bedford- Sup- 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 8 
 
 nose liia exhortation to have been founded on these 
 words, ‘ Freely ye have received, freely give; how 
 admirably could he introduce all the Jesuitic sub¬ 
 tleties of Bye-ends, Money-love, and Ins party, 
 and refute the arguments they had been taught y 
 one Gripe-man of Love Gain, a market town m 
 the county of Coveting, in the north. Imagine 
 him to be exhorting his fellow-prisoners on the 
 ‘ Terrors of the Lord,’ and you would anticipate 
 his leading in the burdened Christian, recount 
 in o’ the awful dream of the day of judgment, at 
 the Interpreter’s house, and narrating his ad¬ 
 ventures in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
 
 Or when preaching on the words, ‘Resist the 
 devil,’ who like him could recount the fight with 
 
 Apollyon ? . , , 
 
 These facts are placed before the reader lest any 
 
 one should for a moment entertain a doubt which 
 would cast a shade over one of the glories of the 
 ‘Pilorim’s Progress.’ It is an imperishable monu¬ 
 ment to the folly and wickedness of persecution to 
 prevent the spread of religious principles. Ihe 
 enemies of the Christian faith imprisoned John 
 Bunyan to prevent his preaching the gospel to a 
 few poor people, and by it he preaches and will 
 preach to millions of every clime. Keep these 
 facts in recollection—the evidence of C. Doe who 
 had it from Bunyan’s own mouth; his own he} 
 ‘den,’ ‘the jail;’ the testimony of one who long 
 enjoyed his friendship, published within four years 
 of his decease ; the tradition handed down by a 
 fellow-prisoner—none of which evidence was ever 
 denied by the advocates for persecution. It we 
 refuse such testimony, neither should we. believe 
 if Bunyan was permitted to come from the invisib e 
 world and proclaim its truth with the trump of an 
 
 archangel. ,, , ,, 
 
 There are very strong internal, proofs that the 
 
 Pilgrim was written long before it was published. 
 A second edition issued from the same press, by 
 the same publishers, in the same year , 167b; and 
 there is found a striking difference m the spelling 
 of many words in these two editions, such as 
 ‘ drownded ’ is corrected to ‘ drowned, ‘ Slow ot 
 Despond’ to ‘Slough of Despond,’ ‘cliaulk, to 
 ‘ chalk,’ ‘ travailler ’ to ‘ traveller,’ ‘ countrey to 
 ‘ country,’ ‘ raggs * to ‘ rags,’ ‘ brust ’ to ‘ burst. 
 This may readily be accounted for by the author s 
 having kept the work in manuscript for some years 
 before it was printed, and that he had at length 
 consented to send it to the printers as he had 
 written it. There is an apparent difference ot 
 twenty years in the orthography of these two 
 books, which were published in the same year, 
 besides some considerable additions of new char¬ 
 acters in the second edition. The printer appears 
 10 have followed the manuscript as to spelling, 
 punctuation, capitals, and italics. It proves, that 
 
 i notwithstanding his very numerous and important 
 ! engagements, Bunyan found time to cultivate and 
 improve his talents in composition, between the 
 time when he wrote the first, and published tne 
 
 second edition. . 
 
 The reason why it was not published for several 
 
 years after his release, appears to have arisen from 
 the difference of opinion expressed by his friends 
 as to the propriety of printing a book which treated 
 so familiarly the most solemn subjects. 
 
 ‘ Well, when I had thus put my ends together, 
 
 I show’d them others, that I might see whether 
 They would condemn them, or them justify: 
 
 And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die. 
 
 Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so.^ 
 
 Some said, It might do good; others said, No. 
 
 Somewhat similar to this, was the conference of 
 dissenting ministers when Sunday Schools were 
 first attempted; the desecration of the Lord s Day 
 was pleaded against them, and it was only y a 
 very small majority that institutions were sanc¬ 
 tioned, which advanced the spread of Divine truth 
 with a rapidity as extraordinary as the spread ot 
 the missionary spirit, or even as is the increased 
 speed of travelling by the aid of steam. . 
 
 Thus it was debated whether the 1 llgnm shou 
 walk forth or not, fearing lest the singularity o 
 his dress should excite vain or trivial thoughts, m 
 the readers, like the disturbance at \amty hair; 
 or it might arise from a fear lest the various char¬ 
 acters and dialogues should be considered as ap¬ 
 proaching in the slightest degree, to the drama. 
 
 It is impossible to account for the different feelings 
 excited in the minds of men by reading the same 
 narrative in which all are equally interested. In 
 this case the fear was, lest it should tend to excite 
 a lio'ht or trifling spirit, while, the solemn realities 
 of eternity were under consideration. In most 
 cases, reading this volume has had a solemnizing 
 effect upon the mind. Some have tried to read it, 
 but have shut it up with fear, because it leads 
 directly to the inquiry, Have I felt the burden of 
 sin ? Have I fled for refuge ? Others have been 
 deterred, because it has such home-thrusts at 
 hypocrisy, and such cutting remarks upon those 
 who profess godliness, but in secret are wanton 
 and godless. The folly of reliance upon an imper¬ 
 fect obedience to the law for the pardon of sm 
 repeatedly and faithfully urged, is a hard and 
 humbling lesson. it mercilessly exposes the 
 worthlessness of all those things which are most 
 prized by the worldling. No book has so continued 
 and direct a tendency to solemn self-examination. 
 Every character that is drawn makes a powerful 
 appeal to the conscience, and leads almost irresist¬ 
 ibly to the mental inquiry, ‘ Lord, is it I. 
 work is calculated to infuse deeper solemnity into 
 
 J --- Well might 
 
 the mind of an attentive reader. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 9 
 
 Mr. Macaulay in liis review say, ‘The allegory of 
 Bunyan lias been read by many thousands with 
 tears;’ or as some pious man has written upon 
 the fly-leaf of the fourth edition, 1680— 
 
 * Sleep on, good man, 
 
 Continue still thy dreame. 
 
 Your allegories do, 
 
 I think, resemble 
 Some landskip vision 
 At which souls tremble.’ 1 
 
 In addition to the serious opposition of his 
 friends to the publication of the Pilgrim, we should 
 also consider the author’s other engagements. 
 After so long, so harassing, so unjust an impri¬ 
 sonment, much of his time must have been spent 
 in restoring order to his house and in his church; 
 in paying pastoral visits, recovering lost stations 
 which had been suspended during the violence of 
 persecution, and in extending his devotional and 
 ministerial exercises in all the villages around 
 Bedford which were within his reach. Such was 
 the great extent of his labours in that and the 
 adjoining counties, as to obtain for him the title of 
 Bishop of Bedford. As his popular talents became 
 known, the sphere of his usefulness extended, so 
 that an eye-witness testified, that when he preached 
 in London, ‘ if there were but one day’s notice 
 given, there would be more people come together 
 to hear him preach, than the meeting-house could 
 hold. I have seen, to hear him preach, about 
 twelve hundred at a morning lecture, by seven 
 o’clock on a working day, in the dark winter 
 time.’ 2 Such popularity must have occasioned a 
 considerable tax upon his time, in addition to 
 which he was then warmly engaged in his contro¬ 
 versy on Baptism, 3 and in some admirable practi¬ 
 cal works. These were probably some of the 
 reasons why a humble, pious author, hesitated 
 for several years to publish a work, on the practi¬ 
 cal bearings of which his friends had expressed 
 such opposite opinions. At length he made up 
 his mind— 
 
 -* Since you are thus divided, 
 
 I print it will; and so the case decided.’ 
 
 1 By Thomas Collins, written on the blank leaf of the fourth 
 
 edition, 1680, presented to the Editor by- Bullar, Esq., 
 
 Southampton. 
 
 2 Charles Doe, in the Stmggler. 
 
 3 This controversy was, whether or not wafer-baptism is a 
 pre-requisite to receiving the Lord’s Supper, and who is to be 
 the judge as to the mode of its administration. Some of the 
 churches agreed with the Church of England as to their power 
 to decree rites and ceremonies. Not so John Bunyan. He 
 considered that this question should be left to the personal 
 decision of every candidate. The fruits of the new birth, the 
 baptism of the Holy Ghost, which alone is the door of admis¬ 
 sion to the Saviour’s family, was, in his opinion, the only 
 question to be decided by the church, as a pre-requisite to 
 admission to the table of his Lord. See Mat. iii. 11; Mar. ! 
 i. 8; Lu. iii. 16; Jn. i. 26—33; compared with He. vi. 2, 
 and Ep. iv. 5. 
 
 VOL. HI. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 bunyan’s qualifications to write the * pilgrim’s pro. 
 
 GUESS’ SANCTIFIED BY PRISON DISCIPLINE. 
 
 That the author of the Pilgrim was pre-eminently 
 qualified to write such a work is proved by its 
 vast circulation, and by the extraordinary interest 
 which it created, and has kept alive, for nearly two 
 centuries, throughout the world. This ought not 
 to excite surprise, when it is recollected that it 
 was the production of a man profoundly learned in 
 all the subtleties of the human heart; deeply skilled 
 in detecting error and sophistry ; thoroughly hum¬ 
 bled under a sense of his own unworthiness. He 
 was baptized into the Divine truths of Christianity 
 by the searching, wounding, and healing influences 
 of the Holy Spirit. Shut up for twelve years with 
 his Bible, all t he ra gs of popery and heathenism 
 'were stripped off, and He came out a living body, 
 or divinity, comparatively free from mere human 
 doctrines or systems. The, spirit of the prophets 
 and apostles breathes in his language. His was 
 an education which all the academies and univer¬ 
 sities in the world could not have communicated. 
 He was deeply learned in that ‘ wisdom that is 
 from above, ’ Ja. iii. n, and can be acquired only in 
 the school of Christ. His spirit was nurtured by 
 close, unwearied, prayerful searching of the Word 
 of life—by perpetual watchfulness over the work¬ 
 ings of his spirit, and by inward communion with 
 God. He knew well what was meant by ‘ groan- 
 ings which cannot be uttered,’ Ro. viu. 26, as well as 
 by being ‘caught up,’ as it were, to ‘the third hea¬ 
 ven,’ even to ‘ paradise,’ and in his spirit to ‘ hear 
 unspeakable words which it is not possible for man 
 to utter.’ 2 Co. xii. 4. Previous to his imprisonment 
 he had gone through every severe spiritual trial: 
 with the Psalmist he had sunk in deep mire where 
 there was no standing; the powers of darkness, 
 like ‘ the floods, overflow me, ’ Ps. lxix. 2 ; and with 
 him he could also sing, ‘ I will extol thee, 0 Lord, 
 for thou hast lifted me up, ’ Ps. xxx. l; ‘ Thou hast 
 brought up my soul from the grave,’ Ps. xxx. 3; ‘He 
 brought me up out of an horrible pit, ’ Ps. xi. 2 ; 
 
 ‘ Thou hast healed me;’ ‘Thou hast put off my 
 sackcloth, and girded me with gladness.’ In his 
 happier days, even while in a gloomy jail, he felt 
 that he was an inhabitant of that invisible, holy, 
 spiritual Jerusalem, the universal church of Christ, 
 encompassed by the ‘ Lord as a wall of fire, and 
 the glory in the midst of her. ’ He lived in an 
 atmosphere, and used a language, unknown to the 
 wisdom of this world, and which a poet-laureate 
 mistook for reveries, for ‘ the hot and cold fits of 
 a spiritual ague,’ or for the paroxysms of disease. 4 
 His mind was deeply imbued with all that ivas 
 
 * 
 
 •ft 
 
 ft 
 
 4 
 
 4 Southey’s Life of Bunyan x xxxii. 
 
 o 
 
10 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 most terrific, as well as most magnificent in reli¬ 
 gion. In proportion as his Christian course be¬ 
 came pure and lovely, so his former life must 
 have been surveyed with unmitigated severity and 
 abhorrence. 
 
 These mental conflicts are deeply interesting; 
 they arose from an agonized mind—a sincere 
 and determined spirit roused by Divine revelation, 
 opening before his astonished but bewildered mind, 
 solemn, eternal realities. He that sits in the 
 scorner’s seat may scoff at them, while he who is 
 earnestly inquiring after the way, the truth, and 
 the life, will examine them with prayerful serious¬ 
 ness. In after-life, the recollection of these emo¬ 
 tions filled his lips with words that pierced his 
 hearers. 
 
 When at liberty, his energetic eloquence had 
 attracted to his sermons every class. It is said 
 that the great Dr. John Owen was ashed by the 
 King how a man of his learning could attend to 
 hear a tinker preach, he replied, ‘ May it please 
 your Majesty, had I the tinker s abilities, I would 
 most gladly relinquish my learning.’ Thus did a 
 man, profoundly versed in scholastic literature, 
 and that sanctified by piety, bow to the superiority 
 of the Spirit’s teaching. The unlettered tinker 
 led captive, by his consecrated natural eloquence, 
 one of the most eminent divines of his day. 
 
 Considering the amazing popularity of the ‘ Pil¬ 
 grim’s Progress,’ and its astonishing usefulness to 
 all classes of mankind, in all the countries of the 
 earth, may we not attribute its author’s deep and 
 hallowed feelings, severe trials, and every lesson 
 of Divine wisdom he received, as being intended 
 by the Holy Spirit to fit him to write this sur¬ 
 prising Dream ? 
 
 Bunyan was a master of rhetoric, and logic, and 
 moral philosophy, without studying those sciences, 
 or perhaps even understanding the terms by which 
 they are designated. His Bible (wondrous book!) 
 was his library. All his genius was nurtured from 
 the living fountain of truth; it .purified h is sty le , 
 and adapted his work, by its simplicity and energy, 
 to every understanding. His key to its mysteries 
 was earnest, holy prayer; and musing over the 
 human heart, and watching the operations of 
 nature, afforded him an ample illustration of its 
 sacred truths. His labour in tagging laces required 
 no application of mind, so that his time for study 
 was every moment of his life that he could save 
 from sleep, and even then his ever-active spirit was 
 busy in dreams, many of which contained valuable 
 lessons, so that his mind became most richly stored, 
 and was perpetually overflowing. 
 
 ‘ The poetry of the Bible was not less the source 
 of Bunyan’s poetical powers, than the study of 
 the whole Scriptures was the source of his sim¬ 
 plicity and purity of style. Ilis heart was not 
 
 only made new by the spirit of the Bible, but his 
 whole intellectual being was penetrated and trans¬ 
 figured by its influence. He brought the spirit 
 and power, gathered from so long and exclusive 
 a communion with the prophets and apostles, to 
 the composition of every page of the “Pilgrims 
 Progress. 
 
 Human character was unveiled before the pene¬ 
 trating eye of one so conversant with the inspiied 
 writings; every weak point is seen, as well as the 
 advantage taken by the subtle enemy of souls, 
 and all so admirably and plainly pictured that he 
 who runs must stop, read, and admire, even to his 
 surprise and wonder; and be constrained to in¬ 
 quire, Whence had this poor mechanic such know¬ 
 ledge ? 
 
 Nor must it be forgotten, that in addition to his 
 heavenly, he possessed peculiar earthly qualifica¬ 
 tions for his important work. He had been the 
 very ringleader in all manner of vice and ungodli¬ 
 ness. John Ryland’s description of his character 
 is written with peculiar pungency: ‘No man of 
 common sense and common integrity can deny, 
 that Bunyan, the tinker of Elstow, w r as a practical 
 atheist, a worthless, contemptible infidel, a vile 
 rebel to God and goodness, a common profligate, 
 a soul-despising, a soul-murdering, a soul-damning 
 thoughtless wretch, as could exist on the face of 
 the earth. Now be astonished, 0 heaven, to eter¬ 
 nity, and wonder, 0 earth and hell! while time 
 endures. Behold this very man become a miiacle 
 of mercy, a mirror of wisdom, goodness, holiness, 
 truth, and love. See his polluted soul cleansed 
 and adorned by Divine grace, his guilt pardoned, 
 the Divine law inscribed upon his heart, the Divine 
 image or the resemblance of God’s moral perfec- 
 tibns impressed upon his soul.’ 2 He had received 
 the mere rudiments of education, but vicious habits 
 had ‘ almost utterly ’ blotted out of his memory 
 every useful lesson; so that he must have had, 
 when impressed with Divine truth, great detei- 
 minatiou to have enabled him not only to recover 
 the instruction which he had received in his 
 younger days, but even to have added to it such 
 stores of valuable information. In this, his natural 
 quickness of perception and retentive memory must 
 have been of extreme value. Having been mixed 
 up intimately with every class of men, and seen 
 them in their most unguarded moments, it enabled 
 him to draw his characters in such vivid colours, 
 and with such graphic accuracy. Filled with an 
 inspiration which could be drawn from the Bible 
 alone, he has delineated characters as touching 
 and interesting to us in the nineteenth century as 
 they were to our pilgrim forefathers of a bygone 
 
 1 North American Review , vol. lxxix. 
 
 2 Buuyau’s Works , 8vo. Preface by Eyland. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 n^@, and as they will be to the Christian sojourner 
 of ages yet to , come. It is a history, with little 
 variation, of that which must always happen while 
 Christianity endures. 
 
 Bunyan had run the round of sin; had sown 
 the seed of vice, and brought forth the bitter fruits 
 of repentance; had felt intense alarm lest eternal 
 torments should swallow up his soul in death; had 
 fled for, and found refuge in, the sufferings of 
 Christ. His burden removed, he loved much, be¬ 
 cause to him much had been forgiven; he had been 
 brought up out of horrible darkness, and well was 
 he qualified to aid those who were walking through 
 the dismal valley of the shadow of death ! 
 
 His out-door habits and employments, and~Iiis 
 sanctified contemplations on the beauties of nature, 
 were calculated to strengthen the vigour of his 
 imagination, and the decision of his character. 
 Happily, the glorious Dreamer never appeared to 
 have any idea of his own immortal fame as an 
 author: little did he dream of the happy influence 
 that his humble labours would have upon millions 
 of mankind; all his spirit centred in his Saviour ; 
 all his efforts were to make known the glad tidings 
 of salvation Jo surrounding sinners. If he coveted 
 the tongue of an angel, it was not for brilliancy of 
 language^ but that lie might use burning words to 
 make an indelible impression upon his hearers. 
 Even the greatest of his works lie published under 
 the humble similitude of a dream, or as that which 
 had passed before his imagination, unaided by 
 those mental powers which are called forth in com¬ 
 posing a narrative intended for publication. His 
 sixty humble books were printed without ornament, 
 upon inferior paper, of the class called chap-books, 
 from their being vended by travelling hawkers called 
 chapmen, now magniloquently called colporteurs. 
 
 John Burton, a minister, thus recommends Bun¬ 
 yan, in an introduction to Some Gospel Truths 
 Opened, 1656: ‘Be not offended because Christ 
 holds forth the glorious treasure of the gospel 
 to thee in a poor earthen vessel, by one who hath 
 neither the greatness nor the wisdom of this 
 world to commend him to thee. This man is not 
 chosen out of an earthly, but out of the heavenly 
 university, the church of Christ, furnished with 
 the Spirit, gifts, and graces of Christ. He hath, 
 thiough grace, taken these three he venly degrees 
 unittfi with Christ, the anointing of the Spirit, 
 and experience of the temptations of Satan; which 
 do more fit a man for that weighty work of preach¬ 
 ing the gospel, than all university learning and 
 degiees that can be had. Having had experience, 
 with many other saints, of this^man’s soundness 
 in the faith , of hja_godly conversation, and: his 
 ability to preach the gospel, not by human art, 
 but by the Spirit of Christ, and that with much 
 success in the conversion of sinners. ’ 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. n 
 
 His character and qualifications were also ad¬ 
 mirably portrayed by his pastor, J. Gifford, soon 
 after he entered upon the work of the ministry. 1 
 It is in his introduction to the first edition of a 
 ‘ Few Sighs from Hell,’ 1658, and as this inter¬ 
 esting portrait was not inserted in any of the sub¬ 
 sequent editions of that book, and has escaped the 
 researches of all the biographers of Bunyan, I am 
 tempted to give it verbatim, more especially, as it 
 is generally believed that John Gifford was the 
 Evangelist who directed the Pilgrim to the Wicket 
 Gate, put him again into the path when under 
 the flames of Sinai, and prepared him for perse¬ 
 cution at Vanity Fair. ‘ Concerning the author 
 (whatsoever the censures and reports of many are), 
 I have this to say, that I verily believe God hath 
 counted him faithful, and put him into the mini- 
 stery; and though his outward condition and former 
 employment was mean, and his humane learning 
 small, yet is he one that hath acquaintance with 
 God, and taught by his Spirit, and hath been used 
 in his hand to do souls good; for to my knowledge 
 there are divers who have felt the power of the 
 word delivered by him, and I doubt not but that 
 many more may, if the Lord continue him in his 
 work ; he is not like unto your drones that will 
 suck the sweet, but do no work. For he hath 
 laid forth himself to the utmost of his strenoth. 
 taking all advantages to make known to others 
 what he himself hath received of God ; and I fear 
 that is one reason why the archers have shot so 
 soarly at him; for by his and others’ industry, in 
 their Master’s work, their slothfulness hath been 
 reproved, and the eyes of many have been opened 
 to see a difference between those that are sent of 
 God, and those that run before they are sent. 
 And that he is none of those light fanatick spirits 
 that our age abounds withal, this following dis¬ 
 course, together with his former, that have been 
 brought to publique view, will testifie; for among 
 other things that may bear record to him herein, 
 you shall find him magnifying and exalting the 
 Holy Scriptures, and largely showing the worth, 
 excellency, and usefulness of them. 
 
 ‘ And surely if thou slialt (notwithstanding this) 
 
 1 John Gifford had been a major in the King’s army; was 
 convicted for raising an insurrection in Kent, and sentenced 
 to die, but made his escape from pi*ison, and settled in Bedford 
 as a medical practitioner. He was a great persecutor, but 
 became, after his conversion, a Baptist minister, and formed 
 his fellow-converts into a church at Bedford, about 1650, over 
 which he was the minister. Bunyan joined this church in 
 1653, and eventually became its pastor in 1671; and it con¬ 
 tinues to this day a flourishing Christian church. His pas¬ 
 toral letter, written a short time before his death, is one of the 
 finest specimens of a pious shepherd’s anxiety tor the happi¬ 
 ness of his flock that has ever been published. It was printed 
 for the first time in 1849, in A Brief History of Banyan's 
 Church, by its present minister, John Jukes. Vide also 
 Brooke’s Lives oj the Puritans , vol. iii p. 257. 
 
12 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 stumble at bis meanness and want of humane 
 learning, thou wilt declare tliine unacquaintance 
 with God’s declared method, who, to perfect his 
 own praise, and to still the epemy and avenger, 
 makes choice of babes and sucklings, and in their 
 moutlies ordaineth strength. Ps. viiL 2. Though men 
 that have a great design do, and must make use 
 of those that in reason are most likely to effect it, 
 yet must the Lord do so too ? then instruments 
 (not himself) would carry away the praise; but 
 that no flesh should glory in his presence, he hath 
 chosen the foolish things of the world to confound 
 the wise, and base things of the world, and things 
 that are despised hath God chosen. 1 Co. i. 27—29. 
 Cast thine eye back to the beginning of the gospel 
 dispensation (which surely, if at any time, should 
 have come forth in the wisdom and glory of the 
 world), and thou shalt see what method the Lord 
 did take at the first to exalt his Son Jesus; he 
 goes not amongst the Jewish rabbies, nor to the 
 schools of learning, to fetch out his gospel preachers, 
 but to the trades, and those most contemptible too; 
 yet let not any from hence conceive, that I under¬ 
 value the gifts and graces of such who have been, 
 or now are endued with them, nor yet speak against 
 learning, being kept in its place, but my meaning 
 is, that those that are learned should not despise 
 those that are not; or those that are not, should 
 not despise those that are, who are faithful in the 
 Lord’s work: and, therefore, being about to leave 
 thee, I shall leave with thee two scriptures to be 
 considered of. The one is, Jn. xffl. 20 : Verily, verily 
 J say unto you, he that receiveth whomsoever I send 
 (mark whomsoever), receiveth me; and he that 
 receiveth me, receiveth him that sent me. The othei 
 is, lu. x. 16 : He that heareth you, heareth me; and 
 he that despiseth you, despiseth me; and, he that 
 despiseth me, despiseth him that sent me. L G. 
 Bunyan closes his own preface with these words, 
 
 ‘ I am thine, if thou be not'ashamed to own me, 
 because of my low and contemptible descent in 
 the world, John Bunyan.’ This was altered in 
 the subsequent editions to, ‘ I am thine, to seive 
 in the Lord Jesus, John Bunyan.’ 
 
 His own account of his training perfectly agrees 
 with that given by his pastor. In the epistle to 
 his treatise on ‘ The Law and Grace,’ about 1660, 
 he thus speaks: ‘Header, if thou do finde this 
 book empty of fantastical expressions, and without 
 light, vain, whimsical, scholar-like terms, thou 
 must understand, it is because I never went to 
 school to Aristotle or Plato, but was brought up at 
 my father’s house, in a very mean condition, among 
 a company of poor countrymen. But if thou do 
 finde a parcel of plain, yet sound, true, and home 
 savings, attribute that to the Lord Jesus, his gifts 
 and abilities, which he hath bestowed upon such 
 a poor creature as I am, and have been. 
 
 Bunyan’s great natural abilities required to- be 
 tempered in the school of affliction : and his ardent 
 temperament met with no ordinary degree of chas¬ 
 tisement ; his principles and constancy were tried 
 by bonds and imprisonment; his spirit, in the war- 
 far eof controversy, not only with the enemies of 
 his Lord, but upon minor points with his brother 
 disciples. And with some of these lie, after their 
 wordy war, met in the same common jail; united 
 in worship before the throne of God; former wounds 
 * were healed, and heart-burnings sanctified; and 
 he became more fully fitted as a guide to all pil¬ 
 grims of every sect. He passed through every 
 trial that his Lord saw needful, to tempei his 
 ardent spirit, and fit him to write his immortal 
 
 Allegory. 
 
 It is difficult to account for Bunyan’s freedom 
 from those popular delusions which so characterize 
 the age in which he lived, and which spread ovei 
 the most pious and learned of his contemporaries , 
 the belief in witchcraft, sorcery, ghoste, and goblin 
 sprites, who, in his days, were supposed to ride 
 upon broomsticks through the air, or ‘dart thiough 
 a key-hole swift as light.’ Stories of witchcraft, 
 haunted houses, necromancy, and such follies, are 
 found in the pilgrimages of his day. Although Sir 
 Matthew Hale, Cotton Mather, Baxter, and our 
 most eminent men, were strangely full of faith in 
 these fancies, even from that king who thought 
 himself a mickle wise man, but proved to be a 
 fool and a pedant, to the wretch called the witch- 
 finder, who, by his perjuries, legally murdered .so 
 many poor helpless old women, for the rich were 
 rarely, if ever, attacked. Bunyan s early habits, 
 and want of education, and prolific imagination, 
 must have peculiarly fitted him for all such vulgar 
 errors; but he escaped them all. Was it that, 
 after his conversion, the solemnities of the woild 
 to come swallowed up all other considerations ( 01 , 
 was it the workings of the Holy Spirit, to fit his 
 writings to be a blessing to future and more enlight¬ 
 ened generations ? It is a remarkable fact, worthy 
 of serious reflection. 
 
 That a man possessing such extraordinary talent 
 should excite the envy of some, and the bitterest 
 animosity of others, is natural. ‘ The archers did 
 shoot sorely at him,’ and never was a man better 
 armed to resist and crush his comparatively puny 
 assailants. His sentiments and conduct, as to the 
 profitable trade of preaching, were also calculated 
 to injure him in the esteem of the clergy. Among 
 many false charges brought against him, one was, 
 the making merchandise of souls through covet¬ 
 ousness. His reply was, ‘Friend, the spirit that 
 led thee to this is a lying spirit; for though I be 
 poor, and of no repute in the world, as to outward 
 things, yet, through grace, I have learned, by the 
 example of the apostle, to preach the truth, and 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 13 
 
 also to work with my hands, both for mine own 
 ■ living and for those that are with me, when I have 
 opportunity. And I trust that the Lord Jesus, 
 who hath helped me to reject the wages of unrigh¬ 
 teousness hitherto, will also help me still; so that 
 I slitill distribute that which God hath given me 
 freely, and not for filthy lucre’s sake.’ 1 * In those 
 days, hard words and uncivil language were com¬ 
 monly used in controversy, and Bunyan’s early 
 ^associations and singular genius furnished his 
 quiver with arrows of piercing point. His moral 
 character was assailed in the grossest terms; he 
 'Y as called a wizard, a Jesuit, a highwayman, a 
 libertine, and was charged as guilty of every crime; 
 to this he gave a direct denial, and triumphantly 
 pointed to his whole conduct since his conversion 
 as a refutation of such unfounded calumnies. 
 These malignant accusations are referred to and 
 refuted in that thrilling narrative, ‘ The singular 
 experience and great sufferings of Mrs. Agnes 
 Beaumont,’ contained in a deeply interesting vol¬ 
 ume, An Abstract of the gracious Dealings of God 
 with several eminent Christians, by Samuel James, 
 M.A.“ Another and very different tournament 
 took place between him and E. Fowler, afterwards 
 Bishop of Gloucester. He published his views of 
 The Design of Christianity; that it was merely 
 the restoration of man to his primitive state. 
 Bunyan saw his book, and very justly conceiving 
 that the learned divine had asserted some gross 
 errors upon doctrinal points of the greatest im¬ 
 portance, he treated the embryo bishop just the 
 same as if he had been a brother tinker, a mere 
 man who was attempting to rob his (Bunyan’s) 
 beloved Master of one of the most glorious gems 
 in his crown. In the almost incredibly short time 
 of forty-five days, 3 he, in jail, composed an answer, 
 consisting of 118 pages of small quarto, closely 
 printed, and in which he completely demolished 
 the theory of this great scholar. It is entitled, 
 ‘A Defence of the Doctrine of Justification by 
 Faith in Jesus Christ, showing true Gospel Holi¬ 
 ness flows from thence ; or, Mr. Fowler’s pretended 
 Design of Christianity proved to be nothing more 
 than to trample under foot the blood of the Son of 
 God; and the idolizing of man’s own righteous¬ 
 ness.’ 4 In this hastily written, but valuable book, 
 Bunyan used very strong language ; reflecting upon 
 a man of considerable influence, and one of his 
 decided enemies. Of some of Mr. Fowler’s senti¬ 
 ments, he says, ‘ Here are pure dictates of a brut¬ 
 ish, beastly man, that neither knows himself nor 
 one tittle of the M ord of God.’ 5 ‘ But why should 
 
 1 ' Gospel Truths V indicated/ vol. ii. p. 201. 
 
 Ihe public were indebted to Mr. S. J. Button for a new 
 and handsome edition of this work in 1824. 
 
 3 From February 13 to March 27, 1671. 
 
 1 Vol. ii. p. 278. 6 P. 283. 
 
 this tiiief love thus to clamber and seek to go to 
 God by other means than Christ?’ 6 Mr. Fowler 
 said, ‘ It cannot be worth our while to lay out 
 any considerable matter of our heat, either for or 
 against doubtful opinions, alterable modes, rites and 
 circumstances of religion; it would be like the 
 apes blowing at a glow-worm, which affords neither 
 light nor warmth, 7 and whatsoever is commended 
 by the custom of the places we live in, or com¬ 
 manded by superiors, our Christian liberty is to do 
 them.’ 8 Bunyan knew the feelings of the clergy 
 in his own neighbourhood, and he also knew that 
 the Act of Uniformity had just turned out all the 
 godly and evangelical ministers from the Church 
 of England. To this sophistry, as to a Christian’s 
 being bound by the custom of the country he lives 
 in, and by the authority of superiors, as to outward 
 forms or ceremonies of Divine worship and religious 
 teaching, our Pilgrim’s guide thus breaks out into 
 what Mr. Fowler calls a Babshakeh, ‘ I know none 
 so wedded thereto as yourselves, even the whole 
 gang of your rabbling counterfeit clergy; who, 
 generally, like the ape you speak of, lie blowing 
 up the applause and glory of your trumpery, and, 
 like the tail, with your foolish and sophistical 
 arguings, you cover the filthy parts thereof.’ 9 
 
 To Bunyan’s Treatise a reply was immediately 
 published, and in it the gentleman and scholar 
 complains of the uncharitable terms used by Bun¬ 
 yan, and we are led to expect something polite and 
 genteel; but, unfortunately, the bishop in expect¬ 
 ancy, or one of his friends, beats the tinker in 
 harsh epithets, without answering his hard argu¬ 
 ments. The scoffer calls our Pilgrim’s guide 
 ‘grossly ignorant,’ ‘most unchristian and wicked,’ 10 
 ‘ a piece of proud folly,’ ‘ so very dirty a creature 
 that he disdains to defile his fingers with him;’ 10 
 and yet writes a book in reply to him. He vaunt- 
 ingly says, that ‘ Bunyan can no more disgrace the 
 bishop than a rude creature can eclipse the moon by 
 barking at her, or make palaces contemptible by 
 their lilting up their legs against them. ’ n ‘ He is not 
 in the least concerned (so he pretends) at the brut¬ 
 ish barkings of such a creature; ’ ‘a most black¬ 
 mouthed calumniator;’ 1 "’ ‘ John Bunyan, a person 
 that hath been near these twenty years, or longer, 
 most infamous in the town and county of Bedford 
 for a very pestilent schismatic;’ 13 and winds up 
 
 c Vol. ii. p. 293. 
 
 7 Design of Christianitg, 8vo, 1671, p. 239. 
 
 8 Ibid. p. 242. 
 
 9 ‘Defence of the Doctrine of Justification,’ vol. ii. p. 322. 
 
 10 Dirt wipt off, 4to, 1672, title. 
 
 11 Ibid, preface. 12 Ibid. p. 2. 
 
 13 Ibid. p. 3. This exactly agrees with the opinion of Jus¬ 
 tice Chester, expressed at the assizes when Bunyan’s wife so 
 nobly pressed Judge Hale to release him:—‘My lord,’ said 
 Justice Chester, ‘ lie is a pestilent fellow, there is not such a 
 fellow in the country again.’— Relation of Bunyan s Impri¬ 
 sonment, vol. i. p. 57. 
 
14 
 
 TOE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 much of his abuse in these words‘ I now appeal 
 to authority, whether this man ought to enjoy any 
 interest in his Majesty’s toleration; and whether 
 the letting such firebrands, and most impudent, 
 malicious schismaticks, go unpunished doth not 
 tend to the subversion of all government ? I say, 
 let our superiors judge of this. 1 Bunyan had 
 then suffered nearly twelve years’ imprisonment, 
 and was more zealous and intrepid than evei ; and 
 yet this fanatic bishop would have had his imprh 
 sonment continued, or his life forfeited, because he 
 could not resist the arrows with which this prisoner 
 for Christ assailed him, drawn all burning from 
 the furnace of God’s Holy Word. This was one 
 of the lessons by which Bunyan was taught how 
 to lead the Pilgrims in their attack upon the 
 monster, Antichrist, which was very rampant, and 
 looked upon the Pilgrims with great disctain; hut 
 these valiant worthies did continually assault him, 
 until he became wounded, ‘ and it is verily believed 
 by some that this beast will certainly die of his 
 wounds.’ 2 How would it delight the church of 
 Christ to witness his death, and to see his vde 
 remains buried under all his implements of torture; 
 his inquisitions, flames, and stakes, dungeons and 
 racks, halters and church-rates. Another, and 
 a very serious lesson, he was taught in the con¬ 
 troversy which he carried on with some Quakers and 
 strict Baptists. 
 
 Bunyau’s controversy, which is said to have 
 been with the Quakers, was, in fact, not with that 
 highly respectable and useful body of Christians, 
 but with persons whom he considered to be under 
 serious delusions; some of these called themselves 
 Quakers. At this period, the Society of Friends 
 were not united into a body or denomination. The 
 battle, according to his own v r ords, was against 
 Satan, and those lies with which he had deceived 
 some enthusiastic spirits. These characters weie 
 called, by Bunyan, a company of loose ranters and 
 light notionists, with here and there a legalist, 
 who were shaking in their principles, sometimes 
 on this religion and sometimes on that. It is true 
 that he talks of the Quakers’ delusions; but his 
 fight was with principles, and not persons, and he 
 sets forth what, in his opinion, were ‘ the lies with 
 which the devil beguileth poor souls. ’ First, That 
 salvation w r as not fully completed for sinners by 
 Christ Jesus. Second, That the light within was 
 sufficient without the written Word. Some of 
 these visionaries denied the divinity of Christ; 
 others asserted that Christ was born, lived, and 
 was crucified within them, and that he v r as only to 
 be found within themselves by the aid of that light 
 which enlightenetli every man that cometh into 
 
 1 Dirt wipt off, p. 70 . 
 
 2 «pilgrim’s Progress,’ Part II., Vanity Pair. 
 
 the world; that his being found in fashion as a 
 man, and humbling himself to the death of the 
 cross —in fact, that his personal appearance on 
 earth, was only typical of his taking up a residence 
 in the soul of every believer. Thus they entirely 
 abandoned and neglected the written Word. They 
 adopted some singular practices, lived upon bread 
 and water, forbade marriage, and refused to wear 
 hat-bands. 3 4 5 Such were the adversaries against 
 whom he wrote the first book that he published, 
 called ‘ Gospel Truths Opened. ’ It was about this 
 time that Naylor appeared; and he, acting under 
 the delusion of having Christ within him, rode on 
 an ass into Bristol, while the mob strewed their 
 clothes before him, crying, ‘Hosanna! blessed is 
 he that cometh in the name of the Lord.’ And 
 instead of reasoning with him, in order to lemove 
 this temporary delusion, he was cruelly tormented, 
 imprisoned, pilloried, with its brutal accompani¬ 
 ments ; burned through the tongue with a hot 
 iron; branded with a B on his forehead for blas¬ 
 phemy ; whipped, and confined to hard labour. 
 Mr. Grainger says ‘ that the discipline of a prison 
 soon restored him to his senses; and we aie 
 inclined to think that he was mercifully restored 
 to his right mind, because he was some years after¬ 
 wards received into the Society of Friends, as a 
 member, and died in their communion a fact 
 which the clergyman had not the honesty to state. 
 
 Against this first work of Bunyan’s an answer 
 was published by Edward Burroughs, afterwards 
 an eminent Quaker. In this, he fought, as Bun¬ 
 yan called it, ‘ bitterly, with a parcel of scolding 
 expressions;’ and he advises him not to appear so 
 gross a railing Rabslmkeh ; and, in fact, he proved 
 himself a match for his adversary with those 
 weapons. He calls Bunyan ‘ of the stock of Ish- 
 mael, and of the seed of Cain, whose line reacheth 
 to the murthering priests, enemies of Christ preach¬ 
 ing for hire.’ Bunyan replies, ‘ These are words 
 flung unto the winds by thee, my adversary. 
 Burroughs having thoughtlessly urged that theVe 
 was not a Quaker heard of in the days of John, 
 his keen antagonist replied, ‘ Friend, thou hast 
 rightly said, there was not a Quaker heard of in¬ 
 deed, though there were many Christians heard of 
 then.’ ‘ Your sister, Anne Blackley, bid me, in the 
 audience of many, to throw away the Scriptures; to 
 which I answered, No, for then the devil would be 
 too hard for me.' Among other queries put to him 
 by Burroughs, one was, ‘ Is not the liar and slan¬ 
 derer an unbeliever, and of the cursed natuie ? 
 
 3 Hat-bands were gay bunches of ribbons and rosettes 
 
 fastened round the hat or cap. 
 
 ‘ Room for tlie noble gladiator! see j 
 His coat and hat-band show his quality. 
 
 4 Biog. Hist, of'England. .. 
 
 5 ‘ Vindication of Gospel Truths/ query 8, vol. u. p. 209. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY TITE EDITOR. 
 
 15 
 
 Bunyan s reply was, * The liar and slanderer is an 
 unbeliever; and it he live and die in that condition, 
 his state is very sad, though, if he turn, there is 
 hope tor him; therefore repent and turn quickly, 
 or else look to yourselves, for you are the men, as 
 is clear by your discourse. ’ 
 
 Uiis controversy, carried on with great spirit 
 and waimth, lelated much to that difficult question, 
 W hether Christ continued his human body after his 
 ascension, or was it resolved into a spiritual form ? 
 These disputations, which led to a prayerful inves¬ 
 tigation of Scripture, must have had a beneficial 
 tendency. Bunyan considered that his antagonist 
 did not value the Holy Oracles sufficiently; and 
 Bui loughs considered that too little attention was 
 paid to ‘ Christ formed in us the hope of glory.’ 
 Both v ere questions of the deepest importance; and 
 ha PPJ " as ^ those of their countrymen who 
 witnessed the strife between these giants, and were 
 led earnestly and prayerfully to search into these 
 vital and important truths. The dispute presented 
 much wholesome fruit, although not served up in 
 sil\er dishes. Burroughs’s friend, Howgill, bears 
 this testimony of his worth‘ Though thou didst 
 cut as a razor—and many a rough stone hast thou 
 squared and polished, and much knotty wood hast 
 thou hewn in thy day—yet, to the seed, thy words 
 diopped like oil, and thy lips as the honeycomb.’ 
 Bunyan held a public disputation with these zeal¬ 
 ous missionaries in Paul’s Steeple House, Bed¬ 
 ford Town, May 23, 1 656. 1 This was a contest 
 which involved in it a close examination of the 
 Sacred Scriptures, and certainly afforded valuable 
 lessons in fitting Britain’s allegorist for his great 
 and important work. 
 
 Bunyan’s difference of opinion relative to the 
 terms of communion at the Lord’s table, led to a 
 conti oversy with the Strict Baptist churches, to 
 all of which lie was sincerely attached; and this 
 was probably one of the means by which he was 
 enabled to write an itinerary to all pilgrims; for 
 it must have blunted the edge of his sectarian 
 feelings, and have enlarged his heart towards the 
 whole Christian community of every class. In the 
 preface to the ‘Reason of his Practice,’ he dis¬ 
 plays all the noble sentiments of a Christian con¬ 
 fessor ; of one who has been deservedly called the 
 Apostle of Bedford, or Bishop Bunyan. ‘ Faith 
 and holiness are my professed principles, with an 
 endeavour, so far as in me lietli, to be at peace 
 with all men. What shall I say ? let mine ene¬ 
 mies themselves be judges, if anything in these 
 following doctrines, or if aught that any man hath 
 heard me preach, doth, or hath, according to the 
 true intent of my words, savoured either of heresy 
 or rebellion. I say, again, let they themselves 
 
 1 See Burroughs's Works , p. SO*. 
 
 be judges, if aught they find in my writings or 
 preaching doth render me worthy of almost twelve 
 years’ imprisonment, or one that deserveth to be 
 hanged, or banished for ever, according to their 
 tremendous sentence. Indeed, my principles are 
 such as lead me to a denial to communicate in the 
 things of the kingdom of Christ with ungodly and 
 open profane; neither can I, in or by the super¬ 
 stitious inventions of this world, consent that my 
 soul should be governed in any of my approaches 
 to God, BECAUSE COMMANDED TO THE CONTRARY, AND 
 COMMENDED for so refusing. Wherefore, except¬ 
 ing this one thing, for which I ought not to be 
 j rebuked, 1 shall, I trust, in despite of slander and 
 ! falsehood, discover myself at all times a peaceable 
 and obedient subject. But if nothing will do, 
 j unless I make my conscience a continual butchery 
 and slaughter-shop, unless, putting out mine own 
 eyes, I commit me to the blind to lead me (as, I 
 doubt, is desired by some), I have determined, the 
 Almighty God being my help and shield, yet to 
 suffer, if frail life might continue so long, even 
 till the moss shall grow on mine eyebrows, rather 
 than to violate my faith and principles. Touching 
 my practice, as to communion with visible saints^ 
 although not baptized with water, I say, it is my 
 present judgment so to do, and am willing to render 
 a further reason thereof, shall I see the leading 
 hand of God thereto. Thine in bonds for the 
 gospel, John Bunyan.’* At the end of this trea¬ 
 tise, he severely alludes to the unfair practices of 
 controversialists; he signs himself, ‘ I am thine to 
 serve thee, Christian, so long as I can look out at 
 those eyes that have had so much dirt thrown at 
 them by many, John Bunyan.’ 
 
 Kiffin, Denne, T. Paul, and Danvers replied to 
 this ‘ Confession;’ Jesse, and others, defended it. 
 This led to the publication of ‘ The Differences 
 about Water-Baptism no Bar to Communion,’ and 
 to the ‘ Peaceable Principles and True.’ The 
 controversy was carried on with sufficient acrimony 
 to shake Bunyan’s sectarian feelings, and to excite 
 in his breast a determined spirit of personal, prayer¬ 
 ful inquiry at the Fountain of Truth, in all matters, 
 both of his faith and practice in religion, even at 
 the risk of life. 
 
 The principles of our great allegorist upon this 
 subject have spread over a great number of the 
 Baptist churches. Bunyan probably considered 
 these sentiments as the precursors of the dawn of 
 a happy day, when the baptism of the Holy Ghost, 
 with purifying power like heavenly fire, shall 
 absorb all these bitter waters of contention which 
 occasioned such angry, unholy dissension among 
 the churches of Christ; when the soul of every 
 believer shall be imbued and immersed in sacred 
 love and zeal for the honour of our Lord and the 
 increase of his kingdom, and the subject of water- 
 
16 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 baptism, as a personal duty, be better understood | 
 and appreciated. 
 
 In tliis conflict with liis brethren, all that sanc¬ 
 tified penetration, that unwavering fortitude, and 
 that determination, first to understand, and then 
 to do his Lord’s will, was displayed, that fitted the 
 Author to write his surprising Allegory, and to be 
 a ‘ Great-heart’ to guide and protect his weaker 
 fellow-pilgrims. 
 
 Soon after this, the prisons of England were 
 filled with the most pious and virtuous of her 
 citizens; and when Bunyan and his antagonists, 
 both Quakers and Baptists, were confined within 
 the same walls, conversed upon spiritual things, 
 worshipped unitedly their God by the same way 
 of access, all former bitterness and animosities 
 were swallowed up in the communion of saints, 
 and the wall of separation was thrown down; not 
 only did their sufferings increase their catholic 
 spirit and respect for each other, but they became 
 a blessing to many who were confined for real 
 crimes; and when they came forth, it was with 
 renewed powers to proclaim the unsearchable 
 riches of Christ. Hundreds of poor, imprisoned, 
 godly ministers felt the power of those words: 
 
 ‘ Blessed be God, who comforteth us in all our 
 tribulation, that we may be able to comfort them 
 that are in trouble.’ 2 Co. i. 4. Like Kelsey, a Bap¬ 
 tist minister, who suffered seventeen years’ im¬ 
 prisonment, they could svfy- 
 
 ‘ I hope the more they punish me, that I shall grow more hold: 
 The furnace they provide for me, will make me finer gold. 
 
 My friends, my God will do me good, when they intend me 
 
 harm; 
 
 They may suppose a prison cold, hut God can make it warm. 
 What if my God should suffer them on me to have their will, 
 And give me heaven instead of earth? I am no loser still.’ 
 
 Thus does Antichrist destroy himself, for whether 
 he imprisons the Christian, or only seizes on his 
 goods, he uses weapons to hasten the destruction 
 of his own kingdom. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 bunyan’s release erom prison, and publication of 
 ‘the pilgrim’s progress.’ 
 
 The reigns of the debauched Charles II. and 
 the besotted James, those fag-ends of an unhappy 
 race, were the most humiliating that these realms 
 ever witnessed. Deep dissimulation, 1 oft-repeated 
 falsehoods, wilful and deliberate perjuries, were 
 employed by the first of these royal profligates to 
 
 1 That thorough courtier, Lord Halifax, apologizes for him 
 thus:—‘ If he dissembled, let us remember that he was a 
 king; and that dissimulation is a jewel in the royal crown. 
 —Harris’s Charles II., vol. ii. p. 16. 
 
 obtain the throne. Solemn pledges to pardon 
 political offenders were ruthlessly violated, as well 
 as the oaths and declarations ‘ that liberty should 
 be extended to tender consciences on religious 
 subjects, so that none should be disturbed or called 
 in question for any differences of opinion in matters 
 of religion.’ 2 3 The fanatic Church of England 
 soon obtained laws in direct violation of all the 
 King’s oaths and declarations, such as the Act of 
 Uniformity, the Test and Corporation Acts, the 
 Five-mile and Conventicle Acts, and a revival of 
 the old statutes for compelling all persons to attend 
 the Church service; and thus forcing the weak- 
 minded to become hypocritical members of the 
 Church which was then, and continues to this day, 
 to be preferred by the state as best suiting its pur¬ 
 poses. Among the rest was an Act ordering all 
 the subjects of the realm, for ever, to meet in then- 
 respective churches on the 29th of May in each 
 year, and thanking God that these kingdoms weie 
 on that day new born and raised from the dead: 
 an Act which has not been repealed, but remains a 
 disgrace to our statute-book. A hurricane of pei- 
 secution followed, and all the jails in the kingdom 
 soon became filled with those of our countrymen 
 who, by their virtue and piety, were the brightest 
 ornaments of Christianity. While these barbarities 
 were perpetrating, desolations followed in rapid 
 succession. A fearful pestilence swept away the 
 inhabitants of the metropolis, followed in the next 
 year by a conflagration which destroyed the cathed¬ 
 ral, and nearly all its churches, magazines, houses, 
 and enormous wealth. Again, in the succeeding 
 year, came a Dutch fleet, which took Sheerness 
 destroyed our shipping, and caused a degree of 
 consternation thus described by an eye-witness, 
 who was attached to the court: 4 ‘ I was at Lon¬ 
 don in the plague and fire years, yet in neither did 
 I observe such consternation and confusion in the 
 looks of all men, as at this time, and with great 
 cause: for if the Dutch had then come up to 
 London, they had found all open to them, not one 
 gun mounted at Tilbury Fort, nor one frigate 
 ready in the river; so as they might have forced 
 all the ships in the river up to the bridge, and 
 there have burnt them, which would certainly have 
 fired the Tower and all the suburbs west to Black- 
 wall, as well as Southwark below bridge.’ Still 
 the persecution of the Christians was continued in 
 all its rigour. 
 
 Bunyan was one among the first persons pun¬ 
 ished under the sanction of these wicked laws. 
 He was taken, sent to prison, and threatened 
 with transportation, or the halter, unless he would 
 
 2 Declaration from Breda. 
 
 3 Meaning the restoration of the Stuart dynasty. . 
 
 4 Mr. Roger Cook. Rennet’s History of England, vol. nu 
 
 p. 265. 
 
17 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 conform, or pretend to conform, to whatever reli¬ 
 gion happened to be by law established. This at 
 all hazards he steadily refused; although, at that 
 time, lie fully anticipated being hung. Under 
 buch an avrul impression, he felt exceedingly 
 anxious that, suffering for the cause of Christ, he 
 should meet death with fortitude, and be enabled 
 to address the multitude that would come to see 
 ldm die. ‘ And, thought I, if it must be so, if 
 Ood will but convert one soul by my very last 
 
 voids, I .-hall not count my life thrown away, nor 
 lost.’ 1 
 
 About this time twelve Baptists were sentenced 
 to be hung for nonconformity. One of these was 
 a widow, Mary Jackman, who had six children; 
 their reprieve was almost miraculous. 2 
 
 Bunyan s sufferings in prison were aggravated 
 by his affectionate feelings for his blind daughter, 
 and with tender apprehension he speaks of her in 
 language of impassioned solicitude.' * Poor child, 
 thought I, what sorrow art thou like to have for 
 thy portion in this world ! Thou must be beaten, 
 must beg, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a 
 thousand calamities, though I cannot now endure 
 the wind shall blow upon thee ! Oh, the hard¬ 
 ships 1 thought my blind one might go under, would 
 break my heart to pieces! ’ Then he casts himself 
 upon the boundless power of his God, repents his 
 doubts, and is filled with consolation. Such were 
 the severe trials by which he was qualified to write 
 the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress.’ 
 
 Ilis wife was a partaker of his own spirit—a 
 heroine of no ordinary stamp in so trying a situa¬ 
 tion. She came to London with a petition for the 
 release of her husband, which was presented to the 
 House of Lords; but in vain. Time after time she 
 appeared in person before the judges; and, although 
 a delicate young woman of retiring habits, pleaded 
 the cause of her husband and his children in lan¬ 
 guage worthy of the most talented counsel; but all 
 her supplications were fruitless, although Judge 
 Hale was evidently affected by her powerful appeal, 
 and felt much for her. * This courageous, this 
 fine, high-minded English woman, and Lord Chief- 
 Justice Hale, and Bunyan, have long since met in 
 heaven; but how little could they recognize each 
 other’s character on earth ! How little could the 
 distressed insulted wife have imagined, that beneath 
 the judge’s ermine there was beating the heart of 
 a child of God, a man of humility, integrity, and 
 Prayer ! How little could the great, the learned, 
 the illustrious, and truly pious judge have dreamed 
 that the man, the obscure tinker, whom he was 
 suffering to languish in prison for want of a writ 
 of error, would one day be the subject of greater 
 
 1 ‘ Grace Abounding/ No. 335. 
 Crosby’s History, vol. ii. p. 184. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 admiration and praise than all the judges in the 
 kingdom of Great Britain ! How little^could he 
 dream, that from that narrow cell where the pri¬ 
 soner was left incarcerated, and cut off apparently 
 from all usefulness, a glory would shine out, illus¬ 
 trating the government and grace of God, and 
 doing more good to man, than all the prelates and 
 
 judges of the kingdom put together had accom¬ 
 plished.’ 3 
 
 How many thousands will in heaven search out 
 Bunyan, to hear his own accounts of his sufferings, 
 and how he conceived his wondrous dream ! Nor 
 will they forget the wife whose ‘ Plain Man’s Path¬ 
 way 4 * led him to his first inquiries after the 
 Wicket-gate; nor liis Elizabeth, who so nobly 
 pleaded for him before the judges. 
 
 The number of nonconformists who were impri¬ 
 soned in these trying times, will never be fully 
 known until the great day when all secrets will be 
 revealed, to the honour of the persecuted and the 
 infamy of the persecutors. They were of both 
 sexes and of all ages, from the child of nine or ten 
 years to the hoary-headed saint of eighty, who, 
 bending and trembling over the grave with bodily 
 infirmities, was driven to prison and incarcerated 
 in a filthy dungeon. In Picart’s Religious Cere - 
 monies, it is stated that the number of dissenters, 
 of all sects, avIio perished in prison under Charles II. 
 AVaS EIGHT THOUSAND. 6 
 
 As a sect, the Quakers were the most severely 
 
 i . were they the ardent friends 
 
 of religious liberty, but their principles led them 
 to testify against oaths, a hireling ministry, 
 tithes, and other ecclesiastical demands, whether 
 by forcible or voluntary contributions; and they 
 taught that the work of the ministry was one of 
 the purest benevolence, and not to be fulfilled for 
 the love of pelf, or idleness, or worldly distinction. 
 The law required them to attend the Church, and 
 when there, roused by the foolish and wicked ob¬ 
 servations of the priest, it was common for them 
 to take out their Bibles, and denounce, in awful 
 terms, the conduct of such blind teachers, who 
 were leading their equally blind hearers to ever¬ 
 lasting perdition. And for this they were impri¬ 
 soned and cruelly treated. 
 
 If some of the nonconformists occasionally 
 interrupted the clergyman while preaching, the 
 Church party frequently did the same to both 
 Baptists and Quakers. Thus it happened when 
 Bunyan was preaching in a barn, a Church scholar, 
 wounded by his observations, cried out, ‘ You are 
 a deceiver, a person of no charity, nor fit to preach; 
 
 3 Dr. Cheever’s Lectures. 
 
 4 This book, with ‘M. Bunyan’ on the title-page, is in the 
 Editor’s possession. 
 
 Paris, 1809, tom. x. p. 71: ‘ Huit inille dissenters dt 
 
 toutes les croyam-es perirent cn prison/ 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
18 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 for you condemn the greater portion of your hear- 
 Bunyan replied, ‘ Did not Jesus Christ 
 
 ers. 
 
 preach to the same effect, when he described four 
 sorts of hearers—the highway, stony, thorny, and 
 good ground ? whereof the good ground were the 
 only persons to he saved ? Do you mean to say 
 that Jesus was unfit to preach ? AAvay with such 
 logic ! ’ The scholar rode away much better pun¬ 
 ished than by imprisonment, for disturbing a con¬ 
 gregation which he was not compelled to attend., 
 Multitudes of Quakers and Baptists were con¬ 
 fined for the non-payment of ruinous fines, imposed 
 after the officers of injustice had SAvept aAvay all 
 the worldly goods that they possessed. In most 
 cases they Avere treated with extreme cruelty; 
 some, even in the midst of the plague then raging, 
 were dragged from their homes and families, and 
 shut up in a jail little better than a pest-house, in 
 Avhich seventy-nine members of the Society of 
 Friends, 1 and a great number of otLer noncon¬ 
 formists died, and obtained a happy release fiom 
 the fangs of tyranny. UpAvards of eight thousand 
 Quakers alone suffered imprisonment; 2 and the 
 record of those Avho died in prison, as preserved 
 at Devonshire House, Bisliopsgate, gives the fear¬ 
 ful number of three hundred and ninety-nine per¬ 
 sons of that persuasion only. At Carlisle, Dorothy 
 Waugh and Ann Robinson, for preaching, Avere 
 dragged through the streets, with each an iron 
 instrument of torture, called a bridle, upon their 
 heads, and were treated Avith gross indecency. 3 A 
 youth named James Parnell, aged nineteen, Avas 
 treated Avith a degree of cruelty which, had it not 
 been well authenticated, Avould have been beyond 
 our credibility. ‘ He was thrust into a hole in 
 Colchester Castle not so Avide as a baker’s oven, 
 and at a considerable height from the pavement; 
 in climbing doAvn to get his food, his hands being 
 benumbed, he lost his hold, and fell upon the 
 stones, wounding his head severely, and bruising 
 his body. In this state he was beaten by the 
 jailer, and thrust into a similar hole nearer the 
 pavement. He was shortly released from further 
 torments by death. 4 A memorial was presented 
 to the King and his council at Whitehall, * Being 
 a brief relation of some of the cruel and inhuman 
 usage, and great persecution and imprisonment of 
 above four thousand two hundred and thirty of the 
 people of God, in scorn called Quakers, for wor¬ 
 shipping of God, and meeting together in the fear 
 of the Lord.’ 6 The summary of this frightful 
 broadside, which gives an account of the number 
 of Quakers in every prison throughout the king¬ 
 dom, and is of undoubted authority, sIioavs that 
 
 1 Hooke’s Address to loth Houses of Parliament, 4to, 
 1674. 
 
 2 Ibid. 3 Besse’s Sufferings. 4 Ibid. vol. i. p. 191. 
 6 Devonshire House, in a volume of tracts 4to, No. 57. 
 
 such Avas the thronged state of the prisons, that 
 in some cases they were croAvded into so small a 
 space that some had to stand Avhile the others 
 laid down. Many were taken out dead. To add to 
 their trials, in Somersetshire the vilest felons were 
 ironed to the poor Quakers; all the prisons were 
 filled with men, women, and children; the aged 
 and young, healthy and sick, were indiscriminately 
 shut up Avith the vilest of ruffians, their clothes torn 
 off; women taken from their beds in the night, 
 and driven along the dirty roads in Avinter to 
 prison; sixty-eight thrust into a small loom, Avith- 
 out bread or Avater, some of the women being in 
 the most trying and delicate state ; many in chains 
 and fetters, wallowing in indescribable filth. Sixty 
 of these Quakers were at one time confined, Avith 
 John Bunyan and his friends, in the prison on 
 Bedford Bridge. In ‘ Some Account of the Life 
 and Death of Mr. John Bunyan,’ prefixed to his 
 works, 2 vols. folio, 1737, p. xii., we find that 
 ‘sixty Dissenters Avere at one time put in Bed¬ 
 ford jail for attending a religious meeting at 
 Kaistoe, in addition to Bunyan and the usual pii- 
 soners^ among AA r hom Avere tivo eminent dissenting 
 ministers, Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Dun. Amidst all 
 this hurry, Bunyan preached and prayed among 
 them in a mighty spirit of faith and OA r ei floAving 
 of Divine assistance, Avhich made me stand and 
 Avonder.’ 6 In one place of confinement in that 
 county, ‘ fifty are in a close and strait place, Avlieie 
 many are sick and Aveak, and likely to perish, 
 very affecting appeal Avas made at this time to 
 the House of Commons. One hundred and sixty- 
 four nonconformists, called Quakers, assembled in 
 Westminster Hall, and sent in a petition, stating 
 that many of their brethren lay in irons, cruelly 
 beaten by cruel jailers; many have died in their 
 sufferings, and many lie sick and Aveak upon stiaw ; 
 and then praying that they might suffer in their 
 stead, and that their bodies might be put into the 
 holes and prisons, and an equal number of their 
 suffering dying friends be released. Well might 
 the editor of the Christian Examiner call this ‘ the 
 feelings of majestic benevolence expressed in ten¬ 
 der and beautiful simplicity. ’ 7 In tlRLjajlJor the 
 city of Bedford, in Avhich. Bunyan was confined, 
 the prisoners wefe treated Avlfh'.nii extraordinai y 
 degree of humanity, for which the jailer was 
 severely threatened by some of the inhuman jus¬ 
 tices. So Avas Bunyan’s valuable life' preserved, 
 and he favoured with an opportunity of writing the 
 < Pilgrim’s Progress,’and so fulfilling his great and 
 appointed Avork. During this time he was permit¬ 
 ted, by favour of the jailer, to visit his family, and 
 even to go to London. This soon was rumoured; 
 
 6 Evidently written by an eye-witness, 
 f Christian Examiner , vol. i. p. 211. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 19 
 
 nml one night he felt so uneasy, when at home, 
 that at a very late hour he went hack to the 
 prison. The news of his being with his family at 
 Lis tow, was that very day taken to a neighbouring 
 priest, who at midnight sent a messenger to the 
 jail, that he might be a witness against the merci¬ 
 ful keeper. On his arrival he demanded, * Are all 
 the prisoners safe?’—‘ Yes.’ «Is John Bunyan 
 safe ? ‘ T es. ‘ Let me see him.’ lie was 
 
 called, and appeared; and all was well. His kind- 
 heaited jailer said to him, ‘ You may go out when 
 you will, for you know much better when to return 
 than I can tell you.’ While he was suffering this 
 imprisonment, his friends in Bedford were severely 
 visited by the ruthless hand of persecution. 
 
 Mr. Luffhead 1 2 was one of Bunyan’s principal 
 friends and supporters, and had the honour of 
 being the first that had his house plundered in 
 the general persecution, when those who refused 
 to attend the Church service were so severely 
 visited. 
 
 The effect of persecution upon this excellent and 
 pious man was, that he, within two years, opened 
 his house for the reception of the despised Chris¬ 
 tians^ and it was the first place of worship that was 
 licensed in Ledford for the use of the nonconform¬ 
 ists, if not the first in the United Kingdom. The 
 account of the ruffianly transactions which took 
 place at this time, is contained in a rare tract, 
 called, ‘ A True and Impartial Narrative of some 
 Illegal and Arbitrary Proceedings against Innocent 
 Nonconformists in the Town of Bedford, 4to, 
 10/ 0. 4 On Monday, the 30th of May, Feckman, 
 
 the chief apparitor, with the churchwarden, con¬ 
 stable, and overseer, began to distrain. The per¬ 
 son s name is J . Lujfhead, at whose house they first 
 began. He had been fined three pounds, and they 
 took away two timber trees, value seven pounds.’ 3 
 
 He must have been a man of some consequence 
 in the town, to have been dealt with so leniently j 
 for in most cases they swept away all the stock 
 in trade, tools, and household furniture, and left 
 the baie walls to shelter the widow and her lament¬ 
 ing orphans. Mr. Foster, a justice, went with 
 the band, and in some cases doubled the fine , be¬ 
 cause it v r as not immediately paid. The misery 
 was such, that the porters said they would be 
 hanged, drawn, and quartered before they would 
 assist i7i that worJc. Two of them, for so refusing, 
 were caught and sent to Bedford jail, wherei 
 doubtless, they gave an account to Bunyan of the 
 ciuel trials to wdiich his pious friends were sub¬ 
 jected. The trained bands were called to assist, 
 but ‘ the tradesmen, journeymen, labourers, and 
 servants having either left the town or hid theni- 
 
 1 Spelt ‘Roughed’ in the Indulgence, 1G72. 
 
 2 Iti the library of the Editor. 
 
 Narrative , p. 9, 
 
 selves, to avoid his [Feckman’s] call, the town 
 was so thin of people, that it looked more like a 
 country village than a corporation; and the shops 
 being generally shut down, it seemed like a place 
 visited with a pest, where usually i 3 written upon 
 the door, Lord, have mercy on us /’ Similar deso¬ 
 lations fell upon many cities in the kingdom, which 
 must have been utterly ruined, had the absurd 
 attempt to enforce uniformity been continued. 
 
 In reading the narrative of these distressing and 
 cruel proceedings, the mind is strangely relieved 
 by the humours of the mob who accompanied these 
 legalized plunderers. ‘ Whilst Battison and the 
 other officers were attempting to break into a malt- 
 house, a great number of all sorts of persons were 
 gathered about them, expressing their indignation 
 against him, for attempting this against Bardolf, 
 the maltster, whom the Avhole town knew to be a 
 just and harmless man. And the common sort 
 of people covertly fixing a calf’s tail to Battison’s 
 back, and deriding him with shouts and hollows, 
 he departed without taking any distress there.’ 4 
 
 Our pious teacher had his time so fully occu¬ 
 pied in prison, that his hours must have passed 
 more sweetly and swiftly than those of a debauched 
 monarch, surrounded with luxuries, in his magnifi¬ 
 cent palaces. To tag laces, the profit of which 
 supported a beloved wife, and his family of help¬ 
 less children, must have employed many of his 
 hours to procure the scantiest food, and most 
 homely clothing. But he found time also to study 
 his Bible, teach his fellow-prisoners, and compose 
 books which have inscribed his name on the page 
 of history more indelibly and brilliantly than it 
 could have been if set with diamonds on the most 
 splendid earthly crown. He .who cou ld write, and 
 loved to write, such volumes, wanted not (ycupa- 
 tion or solace; he might have said, I have found 
 a nest of honey in the carcass of the lion that 
 roared upon me. The world has from that time 
 been refreshed with its sweetness, while, as a 
 spiritual medicine, it counteracts the guilt and 
 wretchedness of man. From such adversity God 
 has extracted manna for the nourishment of his 
 church in the wilderness. 
 
 Stone walls do not a prison make 
 Nor iron bars a cage; 
 
 Minds innocent and quiet take 
 That for a hermitage. 
 
 For though men keep my outward man 
 Within their locks and bars, 
 
 Yet by the faith of Christ I can 
 Mount higher than the stars. 
 
 These be the meu that God doth count 
 Of high and noble mind; 
 
 These be the men that do surmount 
 What you iu nature find. 
 
 4 Narrative, p. 4, 
 
20 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 First they do conquer their own hearts, 
 
 All worldly fears, and then 
 Also the devil’s fiery darts, 
 
 And persecuting men. 
 
 How refreshing for such scriptures as these * to 
 thrill through the soul ’ of a prisoner for Christ— 
 
 ‘ Let not your heart he troubled,’ &lc. ; ‘In the 
 world ye shall have tribulation; hut he of good 
 cheer, I have overcome the world.’ Thus Bunyan 
 says, ‘ I have had sweet sights of the forgiveness 
 of sin in this place. 0 the Mount Zion, the hea¬ 
 venly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of 
 angels, and God the Judge of all; Jesus the Me¬ 
 diator, and the spirits of just men made perfect! 
 I have seen here what I never can express. I have 
 felt the truth of that scripture, “Whom having not 
 seen ye love; in whom, though now ye see him 
 not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable 
 and full of glory.” ’ 
 
 Many years after he had obtained his liberty, 
 notwithstanding all his sufferings, he, with the 
 
 them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord.’ 
 
 2 Co. vi. 14, 17. 
 
 It would not he proper to pass by the contempt¬ 
 ible sophistry with which Mr. Southey justifies an 
 intolerant bigoted hierarchy in sending our Pilgrim 
 to prison, ‘ where his understanding had leisure to 
 ripen and to cool . . . favourable for his moral 
 and religious nature.’ 2 Can this be the language 
 of the author of Wat Tyler? Yes; the smile of 
 royalty had elevated and corrupted him. He 
 might now regret that he was not born in Bonner’s 
 days, to have assisted in improving the morals and 
 religion of the martyrs, by flogging them in the 
 coal-house ! 
 
 The same language which Southey uses to justify 
 the Church of England in sending our Pilgrim to 
 prison, would equally justify the horrid cruelties 
 practised upon those pious and amiable martyrs, 
 Tyndale, Latimer, or Ridley. The alleged offence 
 was refusing to transfer the obedience of a free im¬ 
 mortal spirit from God, who justly claims it, to err- 
 
 majesty of truth, hurled defiance at all persecutors, ing, debauched, or ungodly man, who, instigated by 
 
 Satan, assumes the prerogatives of Deity to exer¬ 
 cise dominion over the mode and form of worship; 
 to impose trammels upon that which must be free 
 if it exists at all; for God is a Spirit, and they 
 who worship him must do it in spirit and in truth. 
 
 When the English Established Church considered 
 herself unsafe, unless Bunyan and many hundred 
 kindred minds were shut up in prison, it proved 
 itself to be a disgrace to the gospel, and an injury 
 to a free people. 3 All national hierarchies have 
 estimated the minds of others by their own stand¬ 
 ard ; but no real minister of the gospel can be like 
 the Yicar of Bray, who was determined to retain 
 his vicarage, whatever doctrine he might be ordered 
 to preach. 
 
 How strangclv different were the feelings of the 
 poor, pious, unlettered teacher, to those of arch- 
 
 and exhorted those who had put on Christ to be 
 steadfast unto the end, When preaching upon the 
 unsearchable riches of Christ, he thus applied his 
 subject, * We are environed with many enemies, 
 and faith in the love of God and of Christ is our 
 only succour and shelter. Wherefore, our duty, 
 and wisdom, and privilege is, to improve this love 
 to our own advantage—improve it against daily 
 infirmities—improve it against the wiles of the 
 Devil—improve it against the threats, rage, death, 
 and destruction that the men of this world continu¬ 
 ally, with their terror, set before you. ’ 1 
 
 It may be asked, Why dwell so much upon the 
 sufferings of our pilgrim forefathers ? My reply 
 is, To those trials in the person of John Bunyan, 
 we are indebted for his invaluable book. To the 
 groans, and tears, and blood of these saints we 
 
 owe the great privileges we now enjoy. And my ; bishops, bishops, and clergy, thousands of whom 
 
 object also is to warn my readers not to touch the 
 unclean thing. Antichrist is governed by the 
 same principles and powers now as she was then; 
 
 swore under Henry VIII. and Edward VI. to 
 abjure the Pope ; perjured themselves under Mary, 
 by swearing to maintain him; and under Eliza- 
 
 the Acts of uniformity and coercion, to use the s beth, again perjured themselves by takin 
 
 g a new 
 
 o 
 
 Booh of Common Prayer , remain unaltered; but a 
 more humane state of society protects our persons 
 from her despotism. So long as the wealth of the 
 state is the bribe to conformity, and the power 
 of taxing and imprisoning the nonconformist is 
 continued, so long must she lie under the strong 
 suspicion of hypocrisy and tyranny. She was 
 formerly defiled with the sufferings unto death of 
 many of the saints of God. And while the system 
 is the same, it becomes us to listen to the voice 
 of the Holy Spirit, ‘ Be ye not unequally yoked 
 together with unbelievers. Come out from among 
 
 1 See ‘Saints’ Knowledge of Christ’s Love,’ vol. ii. p. 38. 
 
 oath to un-oath Queen Mary’s oath ; and all within 
 the space of a few years! The state, by enforcing 
 conformity to an Established church, naturally 
 puts the people upon desperate courses, cither to 
 play the hypocrite, and have no conscience at all, or 
 to be tortured for having a conscience not fashion¬ 
 able or pleasing to the court party. They must 
 either deny their faith and reason, or if virtuous, 
 be destroyed for acting according to them. 4 Those 
 who have no religion have always persecuted those 
 who have religious principles; and to enable them 
 
 2 Southey’s Life of Banyan, p. lxvi. 
 
 3 Dr. Cheever, p. 95. 
 
 England’s Present Interest, 4to, 1575, by Win. I eun. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 21 
 
 to do this, they must obey the state, he it Chris¬ 
 tian or he it Mahometan. Force makes hypocrites: 
 persuasion alone makes converts. 
 
 Such wholesale persecutions bid fair to destroy 
 the trade and commerce of the kingdom, and in¬ 
 volve it in one universal desolation. Sir W. Petty, 
 the founder of the Shelbourne family, then a man 
 of considerable note, demonstated this in his Po¬ 
 litical Arithmetic; and the illustrious founder of 
 Pennsylvania gave a just picture of the miseries 
 inflicted by the Church of England, in her endea¬ 
 vours to force pious and honest men into her com¬ 
 munion. ‘ Persons have been flung into jails, gates 
 and trunks broken open, goods distrained, till a 
 stool hath not been left to sit down on. Flocks 
 of cattle driven, whole barns full of corn seized. 
 Parents left without their children, children with¬ 
 out their parents, both without subsistence. But 
 that which aggravates the cruelty is, the widow’s 
 mite hath not escaped their hands; they have made 
 her cow the forfeit of her conscience, not leaving 
 her a bed to lie on, nor a blanket to cover her ; 
 and which is yet more barbarous, and helps to 
 make up this tragedy, the poor helpless orphan’s 
 milk boiling over the fire, was flung away, and the 
 skillet made part of their prize ; that, had not 
 nature in neighbours been stronger than cruelty in 
 such informers and officers, to open her bowels for 
 their relief and subsistence, they must have utterly 
 perished ; and what has such cruelty procured ? 
 
 ‘ the judgments of God, the hatred of men. To 
 the sufferers, misery ; to their country, decay of 
 people and trade ; and to their own consciences, an 
 infinite guilt.’ 1 ‘ Men must either have no con¬ 
 science at all, or be hanged for having a conscience 
 not fashionable.’ 2 He winds up a manly, learned, 
 and excellent treatise, by saying [inter alia), that 
 ‘ the interests of Britain will stand longer upon the 
 legs of the English people than of the English 
 Church,’ 3 and signs himself ‘An English Christian 
 Man, William Penn.’ Persecution, for his pure 
 religious feelings, drove him and thousands of the 
 best English citizens across the Atlantic, to seek 
 among savages the repose denied to them by the 
 Church of England, and to found a state and an 
 empire where the perfect equality and happiness of 
 every sect, the non-interference of the state with 
 the spiritual things of conscience and of God, will 
 render it eventually the most mighty of empires, 
 and an unbounded blessing to the whole universe. 
 
 At length the King was aroused ; probably the 
 grim head of his father flitted before his alarmed 
 imagination; and, to restore tranquillity to his 
 kingdom, he issued a declaration for liberty of 
 conscience ; whether induced by the groans of an 
 
 1 England's Present Interest , Preface. 
 * Ibid. p. 39. s Ibid. p. 57. 
 
 afflicted people, many thousands of whom had suf 
 fered the loss of all things, or by the weakening of 
 his kingdom by the multitudes who emigrated to 
 America, to escape the tyranny of ecclesiastical 
 persecution, or whether to relax the laws against 
 the Papists, has been a subject of controversy, and, 
 however we may be sceptical as to royal declara¬ 
 tions, yet, judging cautiously, I am inclined to 
 hope that the motives set forth in that declaration 
 were true ; at all events, it is an indelible record, 
 that the dreadful experiment tried for twelve cruel 
 years, to compel uniformity in Divine worship by 
 fines, imprisonment, and even death, most signally 
 failed, while it involved the kingdom in a state of 
 desolation, from which it required the glorious 
 revolution of 1688 to restore it to comparative 
 prosperity. 
 
 Favoured by the prompt and kind permission 
 of Sir George Grey, one of her Majesty’s principal 
 Secretaries ot State, and the very courteous and 
 hearty assistance of Mr. Lechmere, Keeper of the 
 Archives in the State Paper Office, every possible 
 search was made to find any papers or records 
 relative to the imprisonment and discharge of 
 Bunyan. Having thus an opportunity of tran¬ 
 scribing all that could be found at the fountain¬ 
 head of intelligence, it may prove interesting to our 
 readers to possess a correct copy of these import¬ 
 ant documents. The first is the King’s declaration, 
 under his own autograph signature. 
 
 Charles R, 
 
 ms Ma“ 
 
 .Declaration 
 
 to all his loveing Subjects 
 Our care and Endeavours for the preservation of the Rights 
 and Interests of the Church, have been sufficiently manifested 
 to the World by the whole course of Our Government since 
 Our happy ltestauracon, and by the many and frequent wayes 
 of Coercion that Wee have used for reduceing all erring or dis¬ 
 senting persons, and for composeing the unhappy differences 
 in matters of Religion, which Wee found among Our Subjects 
 upon Our Returne: But it being evident by the sad experience 
 of twelve yeares that there is very Little fruite of all those 
 forceable Courses Wee thinke Our Selfe oblidged to make use 
 of that Supreame Power in Ecclesiasticall Matters which is not 
 
 onely inherent in Us, but hath been declared and Recognized 
 to be soe by severall Statutes and Acts of Parliament; And 
 therefore Wee doe now accordingly issue this Our Declaration, 
 as well for the quieting the Mindes of Our Good Subjects in 
 these Points, for Inviteing Strangers in this Conjuncture to 
 come and Live under Us, and for the better Encouragement 
 of all to a cheareful following of their Trade and Callings, from 
 whence Wee hope by the Blessing of God to have many good 
 and happy Advantages to our Government; As also for pre¬ 
 venting tor the future the danger that might otherwise arise 
 from Private .Meetings, and Seditious Conventicles; 
 
 And in the first place, Wee declare Our expresse Resolution 
 Meaneing and Intention to be, that the Church of England 
 bee preserved and remaine entire in its Doctrine, Discipline, 
 and Government, as now it stands established by Law; 
 
 And that this bee taken to bee, as it is, the Basis, Rule, and 
 Standard of the Generali and Publicke Worshipp of God, And 
 that the Orthodox Conformable Clergy doe receive and enjoy 
 the Revenues belonging thereunto; And that no Person, 
 
22 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 though of a different opinion and Perswasion shall bee exempt j 
 from paying his Tythes, or other Dues whatsoever. And 
 further Wee declare. That no Person shall bee capable of hold¬ 
 ing any benefice, Liveing, or Ecclesiasticall Dignity or Prefer¬ 
 ment of any kinde in this Our Kingdome of England, who is 
 not exactly Conformable. Wee doe in the next Place declare 
 Our Will and Pleasure to bee, That the Execution of all and 
 all manner of Penall Lawes in matters Ecclesiasticall, against 
 whatsoever sort of Non Conformists, or Recusants, bee imme¬ 
 diately suspended, and they are hereby suspended. And all 
 Judges, Judges of Assise and Gaole Delivery, Sheriffes, Justices 
 of the Peace, Mayors, Bayliffs, and other Officers, whatsoever, . 
 whether Ecclesiasticall, or Civill, are to take notice of it, and 
 pay due Obedience thereunto. 
 
 And that there may be no pretence for any of Our Subjects 
 to continue their illegall meetings and Conventicles Wee doe 
 Declare, That wee shall from time to time allow a sufficient 
 Number of Places, as they shall bee desired, in all parts of 
 this Our Kingdome, for the use of such as doe not conforme 
 to the Church of England, to meete and assemble in, in Order 
 to their Publick Worship and Devotion; which Places shall 
 bee open and free to all Persons. , 
 
 But to prevent such disorders and inconveniencies as may 
 happen by this Our Indulgence, if not duely regulated, and 
 that they may be the better protected by the Civill Magistrate 
 Our expresse Will and Pleasure is, That none of our Subjects doe 
 presume to meete in any Place, untill such Place bee allowed, 
 and the Teacher of that congregation be approved by Us. 
 
 And Lest any should apprehend that this Restriction should 
 make Our said Allowance and approbation difficult to bee 
 obtained, Wee doe further Declare, That this Our Indulgence, 
 as to the Allowance of the Publick Places of Worship, and 
 approbation of the Teachers, shall extend to all sorts of Non- 
 Conformists and Recusants, except the Recusants of the 
 Roman Catholick Religion, to whom We shall in no wise allow 
 Publick Places of Worship, but only indulge them their share 
 in the common Exemption from the execution of the Penall 
 Lawes, and the Exercise of their Worship in their private 
 Houses ouely. 
 
 And if after this Our Clemency and Indulgence, any of Our 
 Subjects shall presume to abuse this Liberty, and shall preach 
 seditiously, or to the Derogation of the Doctrine, Discipline, 
 or Government of the Established Church, or shall meet in 
 Places not allowed by Us, Wee doe hereby give them warneing, 
 and Declare, We will proceed against them with all imaginable 
 severity: And Wee will Lett them see We can be as Severe to 
 punish such offenders, when soe justly provoked, as We are 
 Indulgent to truely tender consciences. In Wittnesse whereof 
 Wee have caused Our Greate Seale of England to be putt and 
 affixed to these presents. Given att Our Court att Whitehall 
 this fifteenth day of March in the 24 th yeare of Our Reigne 
 
 167i 
 
 At this time, George Whitehead, one of the most 
 zealous and prominent Quakers, became deeply 
 affected with the cruel punishments that his 
 brethren and sisters were suffering for Christ’s 
 sake. He was a man who, with equal composure 
 and zeal, could plead before royalty and nobles in 
 a state apartment, or impart consolation to a suf¬ 
 fering Christian in a dungeon or a pest-house. He 
 thus mentions it in his Journal, ‘Soon after the 
 before-mentioned declaration of indulgence was 
 published in print, as I was solitary upon the road, 
 returning toward London, a very weighty and ten¬ 
 der concern fell upon my spirit, with respect to our 
 
 dear friends then in prisons, being above four hun¬ 
 dred, many of whom had been long straitly con¬ 
 fined for not conforming, some having endured ten 
 or eleven years’ imprisonment, whereupon I wrote 
 to the King, and requested Thomas Moor, who had 
 an interest with the King and some of his council, 
 to present my letter, which he did ; and a few days 
 after we had access to the King’s presence, and 
 renewed our request, whereupon he granted us 
 liberty to be heard on the next council-day, in the 
 same week. And then I, with Thomas Moor and 
 Thomas Green, attended at the council-chamber at 
 Whitehall, and were all admitted in before the King, 
 and a full council. Being called to the upper end 
 of the council-board, I opened and fully pleaded 
 the case of our suffering friends. The King gave 
 this answer, “ I’ll pardon them.” ’ They were per¬ 
 mitted to address the council at some length, and 
 it being near the time of a general fast, they con¬ 
 cluded with these words, ‘ This is the fast the 
 Lord requires, to undo the heavy burdens, and to 
 let the oppressed go free.’ 
 
 Favoured with an order from the Secretary of 
 State, and by the kind assistance of J. B. Lennard, 
 Esq., of the Privy Council Office, I obtained access 
 to the minutes of that council; in which is re 
 corded, that a circular letter he sent to the sheriffs 
 of the counties in England and Wales— 
 
 After our hearty commendations—Whereas request hath 
 been made unto His Majesty in behalf of the Quakers who 
 remain at present in several gaols and prisons of this King¬ 
 dom, That His Majesty would be pleased to extend his mercy 
 towards them, and give order for their Release; Which His 
 Majesty taking into consideration, hath thought fit, in order 
 to his clearer information, before he resolve any-thing therein, to 
 command us to write these Our Letters unto you: And, accord¬ 
 ingly, wee do hereby will and require you to procure a perfect 
 Lyste or Calendar of the names, time, and causes of comitment 
 of all such Persons called Quakers, as are remayning in any 
 Goale or Prison within that County, and to return y e same 
 forthwith to this Board. And so nothing doubting of your 
 ready performance of this His Majesty’s command, we bid 
 yon heartily farewell. 
 
 Erom the Court at Whitehall, y e 29th of March, 1672. 
 
 Signed 
 
 Earle of Ossory Earle of Carlisle Lord Holies 
 
 Earle of Bathe Ea of Lauderdail Mr. Sec y Trevor 
 
 Earle of Craven Lord Newport. Mr. of y e Ordnance. 
 
 Like tres dated and signed lit supra were sent to y e Warden 
 of y e Eleet and Mareshall of y e King’s Bench Prisons, And to 
 y e Mayors or J istices of y" seuerall places hereunder written 
 viz. 
 
 Citty and County of y e Citty of Chester. 
 
 Citty and County of y e Citty of Exon. 
 
 Towne and County of Poole. 
 
 Citty aud County of Glocester. 
 
 Citty and County of Lincolne. 
 
 Citty and County of Brestoll. 
 
 Towne and County of Southton. 
 
 Citty and County of y e Citty of York. 1 
 
 1 Extracted from the Register of the Privy Council. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 23 
 
 The indefatigable manner in which the Qual^rs 
 proceeded to get the requisite official signatures to 
 release their suffering and dying friends, is beyond 
 all praise. They wrote to all their meetings 
 throughout the country to obtain assistance, to 
 enable them to meet the demands for fees, and even 
 sent their talented female friends to the officials, 
 to press on this glorious jail delivery. This ap¬ 
 pears from the following letters :— 
 
 George Whitehead to Stephen Crisp. 
 
 3rd of ] st Month [April] 1672. 
 Before thy letter had come to hand, I had drawn up a paper 
 containing the substance of tiiine, which 1 hos. Moore had given 
 to the King, together with a list of the prsemunired Friends 
 and of those sentenced to banishment, &c.; which hitherto 
 lias been effectual, in order to a further enquiry about Friends, 
 &c. IIow far the King and Council have proceeded, in answer 
 to the request, I leave it to Wm, Crouch to inform thee. Thy 
 paper is kept for a further occasion if need be, if our end be 
 not answered by them. But we are encouraged to hope well 
 lor divers reasons. I could not well send to write to thee 
 before, being much exercised for the sufferers. The Council 
 yesterday signed the letters to the Sheriffs for a return of 
 Friends Commitments, &e. to the Board; so that they are 
 like to be had with expedition into the several Counties. 
 
 My very deal* love to thee, thy wife, R. Crouch, and Friends 
 , Iu haste, thy dear brother 
 
 [From the original.] G. ^ 
 
 John Rouse to Margaret Fox. 
 
 with the causes of their commitment. The follow- 
 ing are the minutes of the Privy Council to which 
 their returns were submitted :— 
 
 At the Court at Whitehall the 8th of May 1G72 
 
 The Kings most excellent Ma tie 
 Lord Arch Bp of Canterbury Earle of Bathe 
 
 Lord Keeper 
 Duke of Lauderdail 
 Lord Chamberlain 
 Visco 4 Ffauconberge 
 Vise 4 Halifax 
 Lord Bp of London 
 Lord Newport 
 Earle of Bridgwater 
 Earle of Essex 
 Earle of Anglesev 
 
 Earle of Carlisle 
 Earle of Craven 
 Earle of Shaffsbury 
 Lord Hollis 
 M r Vice Chamberlain 
 Mr. Secretary Trevor 
 S r John Duncombe 
 Mr Chancellor of the Dutchy 
 Master of the Oi’dinance 
 S r Thomas Osborne 
 
 Y hereas his Ma tie of his Princely Clemency was graciously 
 pleased to direct that Letters should be written from this 
 Board to the Sherrill's of the respective Countyes and Citties 
 and Countyes, and Townes and Countyes within his Ma 4ieS 
 Kingdome of England and Dominion of Wales, requireing 
 them to returne perfect lists or Callenders of the Names time 
 and Causes of Comittinent of all such Prisoners called 
 Quakers as remaine in their severall Gaoles, or prisons, which 
 they accordingly did, and the same were by order of his Ma 4ie 
 in Couucellof the third of this instant delivered into the hands 
 of the right Hono ble the Lord Keeper of the great Seale of 
 England, [Sir Orlando Bridgman,] who haveing considered 
 thereof did this day returne them againe together with his 
 opinion therevpon as followeth viz 4 
 
 t . ,, London, Uh of 2nd Month [May], 
 
 Dear Mother, 1672 . 
 
 Last 6th day the two women took the grant out o 
 the Attorney-general’s office, and he gave them his fee, whin 
 should have been £5 j his clerk took but 2(k, whereas his fe 
 was 40s. Yesterday they went with it to the King, who signe 
 it in the Council; and Arlington also signed it, but woul 
 take no fees, whereas his fees would have been £12 or £20 
 neither would Williamson’s man take any thing, saying, tha 
 if any religion were true, it was ours. To-morrow it is to pas 
 the signet, and on sixth day the privy seal, and afterward 
 the broad seal, which may be done on any day. The powe: 
 of the Lord hath wrought mightily in the accomplishment ol 
 it; and the Lord hath bowed their hearts wonderfully in i 
 blessed be his name for ever! 
 
 Thy dear son in the Lord, 
 
 John Rouse. 
 
 Upon the King’s declaration being published, an 
 outcry was raised by the church, that it was only 
 intended to favour the Papists, although in it they 
 aie expressly prohibited from the public exercise 
 of their religion. So angry was the King at his 
 motives being, as he said, misrepresented, that he 
 went to the Council Office, called for the deed, and 
 with his own hand broke off the great seal; the 
 ribbon remains to this day to which the seal had 
 been attached. Still the declaration, having passed 
 the patent offices, was fully acted upon, and a 
 return was ordered from the sheriffs throughout 
 the kingdom, of the names of all prisoners, called 
 Quakers, for disobedience to the laws in ecclesi¬ 
 astical matters within their respective divisions, 
 
 The Returnes that are made touching the prisoners in the 
 severall Go ales are of severall Kindes. 
 
 1 All such of them as are returned to be convicted to be 
 transported or to be Convicted of a Preinunire (vpon which 
 Convictions I suppose Judgment was given) are not legally 
 to be discharged but by his Ma 4les pardon vnder the great 
 seale. 
 
 2 All those that are returned to be in prison vpon writts of ’ 
 Excomunicato Capiendo not mentioning the cause ought 
 not to be discharged till the cause appeares—ffor if it be 
 for Tythes, Legacyes. Defamations or other private Interest, 
 they ought not to bee discharged till the partie be satisfied. 
 
 3 All those that are returned in prison for debt or vpon Ex¬ 
 chequer processe or of any of the other Courts at West¬ 
 minster, are not to be discharged till it be Knowne for what 
 cause those processes Issued and those debts be discharged. 
 
 4 Those that are in prison for not paying their ffynes ought 
 not to be discharged, without paying their ffynes or a Pardon. 
 
 All the rest I conceive may be discharged. Which being 
 this day taken into consideration his Ma tie was gratiously 
 pleased to declare, that he will Pardon all those persons called 
 Quakers, now in prison for any offence Committed, relateing 
 only to bis Ma 4ie and not to the prejudice of any other person. 
 And it was therevpon ordered by his Ma 4ie in Councill That 
 a List of the Names of the Quakers in the Severall Prisons 
 together with the causes of their Comittment be and is here¬ 
 with sent to his Ma 4ies Attorney Generali who is required, and 
 Authorized to prepare a Bill for his Ma 4ie3 Royall Signature 
 conteyning a Pardon to passe the great Seale of England, for 
 all such to whom his Ma 4ie may legally grant the same & in 
 Case of any diflicultie that he attend the Lord Keeper, and 
 receive his directions therein. 
 
 Ex. J. W. W A LEER. 
 
 Order of Councill for the Quakers generalle Pardon. 
 
24 
 
 TI1E PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Endorsed. 
 
 This is a true List of the Names of such persons com¬ 
 monly called Quakers and others which are by Vertue of an 
 Order of Councill of the 8th of May last past to be inserted in 
 
 a aenerall Pardon. 
 
 Ex. J. W. Walker. 
 
 Then follow the names of four hundred and 
 seventy-one prisoners, ordered to be inserted in 
 the pardon. One sentence in this opinion of the 
 Lord Chancellor, Sir Orlando Bridgman, is worthy, 
 of especial regard. Having noticed the cases of 
 all those who had been legally convicted, either by 
 summary process before a magistrate, or by petty 
 session, or by a jury, lie winds up with a sweeping 
 expression, ‘ All the Test may be discharged. . . iut 
 multitudes were imprisoned without conviction, 
 upon the mere verbal orders of a justice, there can 
 be no doubt. These would be set at liberty with¬ 
 out any formal pardon ; even id Bunyan’s case no 
 evidence was taken, but a conviction was recorded. 
 
 In a conversation between him and the justice, 
 and also with the clerk privately, he denied having 
 offended any law whatever; but his honest declara¬ 
 tion, that he had met with others for Divine wor¬ 
 ship, w T as distorted into a plea of guilty, and he 
 was sent to prison without redress. 4 They took 
 me for a convicted person,’ and ‘would not let me 
 out of prison, as they let out thousands ’ at the time 
 the King was crowned. 1 
 
 It is impossible to calculate the amount of miseiy 
 inflicted upon the Christian Church at that period, 
 by the Episcopalian establishment supported by 
 the state. Among the multitude of prisoners 
 who were liberated from our over-crowded prisons 
 at the coronation of Charles II., vast numbers had 
 been confined for their love to the Redeemer, which 
 prevented their conformity to the forms of worship 
 ordered by the state. In addition to these, a 
 countless host was discharged under the just deci¬ 
 sion of the Lord Chancellor, ‘ All the rest, I con¬ 
 ceive, may be discharged ; ’ while nearly five hun¬ 
 dred more were included in the royal pardon, and 
 great numbers were still left to perish in prison, 
 for the non-payment of ecclesiastical dues, gener¬ 
 ally of a trifling amount. The loss to the noncon¬ 
 formists in their goods, during this severe and cruel 
 persecution, has been estimated at half a million 
 sterling, seized by rapacious officers to pay fines 
 for not attending the liturgy and service—an enor¬ 
 mous sum, considering the value of money at that 
 time ; vet from records which the Editor has seen, 
 it was not over-stated. But a small portion of 
 this found its way into the royal exchequer. Our 
 o-reat Allegorist was trained up in the fiercest 
 spiritual warfare ; and, with his fellow-pilgrims, 
 passed through the severest temporal suffeiings. 
 
 1 ‘Relation of the Imprisonment of John Bunyan,’ vol. i. 
 pp. 40, 4.1; and Judge Hale’s observation, p. 42. 
 
 May God, in his infinite mercy, forgive the living 
 representatives of a system which is so naturally 
 full of cruelty, and not, in the severity of his jus¬ 
 tice, visit the sins of the fathers upon their chil¬ 
 dren ; some of whom appear, even now, to nave 
 an inkling for similar antichristian conduct. It 
 cannot be forgotten that, within a few years, an 
 estimable man, John Childs of Bungay, was sent 
 to jail for refusing to pay a church rate. 
 
 But to return to our distinguished nonconformist 
 prisoner. On the day following the meeting of the 
 Privy Council, when the report of the Lord Chan¬ 
 cellor was received, and the King had ordered his 
 royal pardon for the Quakers; Bunyan, being still 
 a prisoner, was, in pursuance of the declaration 
 for liberty of conscience, licensed to be a teacher, 
 being one of the first persons that were so regis- 
 tered. These were the first permissions to preach 
 o-iven, to the dissenters from the established sect, 
 in this country. 
 
 The volume from which these extracts are made 
 is called Indulgences, 1672, under the head ‘Con- 
 gregationall.’ 
 
 „ „ , . CHARLES &c. To all Majors, Bailiffs, 
 
 j'Sn Ban^ to Constables and other Our Officers and 
 
 be a teacher in the yp— s t e rs Civil and Military whom it may 
 ftghed 9 J °May concerne, Greeting. In Pursuance of oui 
 72. Declaration of the 15th of March lb, a 
 
 Wee doe hereby permitted licence John Bunyon to bee a 
 Teacher of the Congregation allowed by Us in the Howse o 
 Josias Roughed Bedford for the use of such as doe not con- 
 forme to the Church of England, who are of the Perswasiou 
 commonly called Congregationall. With further _ licence and 
 permission to him the said John Bunyon to teach in any other 
 place licensed by Us according to our said Declaracion Given 
 at Our Court at Whitehall the 9th day of May in the 24tb 
 yeare of our Reigne, 1672. ^ ^ ^ Command 
 
 Arlington. 
 
 At tbe same time the house of Josias Roughed 
 was registered in the following form: 
 
 A place for a Teacher CHARLES &c. To all Mayors, Bailiffs 
 in Bedford. Constables and other Our Officers and 
 
 Ministers Civill ana Military, whom it may concerne, Grcet- 
 intr. In pursuance of Our Declaracon of the 15 of March 
 ld7V AYco have allowed and Wee doe heie y a ow 0. ie 
 Howse of Josias Roughed in Bedford to he a place for the use 
 of such as doe not conforme to the Church of England who 
 are of the Perswasiou commonly called Congregationall to 
 meet and assemble in, in order to their Pnhhck Worship & 
 devotion. And all and Singular Our Officers and Minuter* 
 Ecclesiasticall Civill and Military, whom it may concerne are 
 to take due notice hereof, And they and every of them are 
 hereby strictly charged and required to hinder any Tumult 01 
 Disturbance & to protect them in their said Meetings A 
 “S Given ^at & c the 9th day of May in the 24th 
 
 yeare ot Our Reigne 1672 ^ ^ Command 
 
 Arlington. 
 
 3 See a similar form of registration in Wilson s History 
 of Dissenting Churches, vol. ni. p. 187—f e 10UbC 0 10s ‘ 
 
 Doolittle, dated April 2, 1672. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 25 
 
 The church of Christ at Bedford is here called 
 Congregational. In ten months, about three thou¬ 
 sand five hundred of these licenses were Granted, 
 only one being at Bedford; many were for persons 
 and places called Andbapt, all others were under 
 the term Congregational. Philip Henry was in¬ 
 dulged ‘in his house, Malpas Parish, in Flintshire.’ 
 Thomas Senior and Henry Ashurst, in their re¬ 
 spective houses at Clapton, in Hackney. Bunyan’s 
 church could not fairly be called Anabapt , because 
 it consisted of members some of whom, probably, 
 had not been baptized in or with water, some 
 christened in infancy, and others immersed on a 
 profession of their faith. 
 
 Mr. Fi.oughed, whose house was licensed for 
 Bunyan to preach in, was plundered a few months 
 previously for refusing to go to church. To attend 
 such a place was one month a violation of the law, 
 visited with ruinous fines and imprisonments, and 
 the next month, places are licensed according to 
 law, for any person to attend, instead of going to 
 church. Law-makers must ever be the scorn and 
 derision of the world, when they interfere with 
 Divine and spiritual worship. 
 
 The Quakers had much greater influence with 
 the King and his council than all the other deno¬ 
 minations of Christians ; and it was soon rumoured 
 abroad that they had been \*ith the King in coun¬ 
 cil, and had obtained for their suffering friends a 
 royal promise of a free pardon. Controversy be¬ 
 tween them and other Christians had been carried 
 on with much bitterness of speech, and in this 
 Bunyan had borne a prominent part, when com¬ 
 bating against what he conceived to be serious 
 errors. But as Christians involved in one common 
 calamity, the Quakers admitted their brethren in 
 affliction to partake of the bounty bestowed ex¬ 
 pressly upon themselves. Whitehead thus narrates 
 this delightful fact in his journal:—‘ When the 
 instrument for discharge of the prisoners was 
 granted to our friends, there being other dissenters, 
 besides Quakers, in some prisons, as Baptists, Pres¬ 
 byterians, and Independents ; some of their solici¬ 
 tors, especially one William Carter, seeing what 
 way we had made with the King for our friends’ 
 release, they desired their friends in prison might 
 be discharged with ours, and have their names in 
 the same instrument, and earnestly requested my 
 advice or assistance, which I was very willing to 
 give in compassion to them ; and, accordingly, I 
 advised them to petition the King, with the names 
 of the prisoners in it, for his warrant to have them 
 inserted in the same patent with the Quakers, 
 which accordingly they did petition for, and obtain. ’ 
 
 * 0 ur being of different judgments and societies, 
 did not abate my compassion or charity, even 
 towards them who had been my opposers in some 
 cases. Blessed be the Lord my God, who is the 
 vol. in. 
 
 bather and fountain of mercies, whose love and 
 mercies in Christ Jesus to us should oblige us to 
 be meiciful and kind one to another j we being 
 required to love mercy, yea, to be merciful, as well 
 as to do justly, and to walk humbly with the Lord 
 our God.’ 1 
 
 Such was the Christian conduct of men, who, of 
 all the members of the church militant upon earth, 
 have been the most grossly slandered. 
 
 In pursuance of the Quaker’s kind advice, 
 Bunyan and his fellow-prisoners petitioned the 
 King for their liberty; and at the meeting of the 
 Privy Council, held on the 8th of May 1672, in 
 presence of His Majesty, and a numerous assembly 
 of his nobles, before the grant of pardon to relievo 
 the Quakers was engrossed, it is recorded— 
 
 At the Court at Whitehall, 8th May, 1G72. 
 
 Upon reading this day at the board 
 
 Reference Petic6n 
 
 severall Non-Con- r ,, ~ „ _ *, , - 
 
 formists Prisoners in the humble petition of John Penn, John 
 
 SdSrd&S!' Runyon John Dnnn, Thomas Haynes, 
 8imon Haynes, and George Parr prisoners 
 in the Goal of Bedford and James Rogers prisoner in the 
 Castle of Cambridge for being at Conventicles and Non-con¬ 
 formity. It was ordered to be referred to the Sheriffs of 
 the Counties of Bedford and Cambridge to examine the said 
 Petitions and forthwith certify this Board whether the said 
 pai ties are detained in prison for the offences therein men¬ 
 tioned or for what other crimes. 
 
 At the Court at Whitehall, y e 17th of May, 1672. 
 
 The King’s most 
 Lord Arch Bp of Canterbury 
 Lord Keeper 
 Duke of Lauderdale 
 Duke of Ormonde 
 Marquis of Worcester 
 Earle of Bridgewater 
 Earle of Essex 
 Earle of Anglesey 
 Earle of Bathe 
 Earle of Carlisle 
 Earle of Craven 
 Earle of Arlington 
 
 excellent Ma tie - 
 Earle of Shaffsbury 
 Viscot Pauconberg 
 Viscot Halifax 
 Lord Newport 
 Lord Hollis 
 Lord Clifford 
 Mr. Vice Chamberlain 
 Mr. Secretary Trevor 
 Mr. Montague 
 Mr. Chancellor of y e Dutchy 
 Master of y e Ordnance 
 Sr Thomas Osborne. 
 
 Whereas by order of the Board of the 8th Instant the humble 
 Petition of John Fenn John Bunyon John Dunn Thomas 
 Haynes Simon Haynes and George Parr Prisoners in the Goale 
 of Bedford Convicted upon severall Statutes for not conforming 
 to the Rights and Ceremonyes of the Church of England and 
 for being at unlawful Meetings, was Referred to the Sheriffe of 
 the County of Bedford who was required to Certify this Board 
 whether the said persons were comitted for the Crimes in the 
 said Petition mentioned and for no other which he haveing 
 accordingly done by his certificate dated the 11th Instant It 
 was thereupon this day ordered by his Ma tie in Councill, That 
 the said petition and Certificate be (and are herewith) sent to 
 his Ma tie8 Attorney Generali, who is authorised and required to 
 insert them into the Generali Pardon to be passed for the 
 Quakers. If he finds that they are within the compass of his 
 Ma tle8 pardon according to the Rule Prescribed by the order 
 of the 8th of May about pardon for the Quakers. 
 
 1 Whitehead’s Christian Progress, 8vo, 1725, p. 358. 
 
 4 
 
26 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 The like order for Francis Ilolcroft and James Rogers for 
 frequenting unlawful meetings as by certificate from the SherifTe 
 of Cambridge of the 10th and 11th Instant. 
 
 [The sheriff's return cannot befound?\ 
 
 At a Court at Whitehall, y e 22d May 1672, 
 
 A similar order was made for Walter Penn and twelve others, 
 prisoners in Wilts. 
 
 At a Court y e 7th of June 1672, 
 
 On a Certificate of the Mayor, Sheriff and Aldermen of 
 Worcester, Robert Smith, a Baker, was ordered to be inserted 
 in the pardon. 
 
 On the 12th of June, the petition of twenty-two prisoners 
 was read and referred to the Sheriffs, and on the 26th their 
 names were ordered to be inserted in the pardon. 
 
 On the 14th of June Thomas More the Quaker obtained a 
 similar order, and on the 26th of June Thomas Gower Durham 
 and eight prisoners in Devon and Exeter were ordered to be 
 inserted in the pardon. 
 
 Through all these minutes the intended patent 
 is referred to as the general pardon to the Quakers. 
 
 Thus we find undoubted proof upon the records 
 of the Privy Council of England, presided over by 
 the King in person,that John Bunyan’s only crime, 
 as certified by the sheriff, and for which he was 
 counted worthy of so cruel an imprisonment, was 
 being present with others to worship his Maker in 
 simplicity and in truth. This was all his crime ; 
 
 ‘ the very head and front of his offence. ’ 0 that 
 
 all her Majesty’s subjects would constantly follow 
 his example! then might our prisons be converted 
 into colleges and schools, and our land become an 
 earthly paradise. 
 
 In pursuance of this great and benevolent object, 
 these indefatigable Quakers obtained a warrant to 
 the Attorney-General, for a free pardon, of which 
 the following is a copy:— 
 
 Our will and pleasure is, that you prepare a bill for the 
 royal signature, and to pass our Great Seal of England, con¬ 
 taining our gracious pardon unto [here follow the prisoners’ 
 names]. Of all offences, contempts and misdemeanours by 
 them, or any of them committed before the 21st day of July 
 1672, against the several statutes made in the first, twenty- 
 third, and thirty-fifth years of the reign of Queen Elizabeth; 
 in the third year of the reign of our late royal grandfather, 
 Kin g James ; and in the 16tli year of our reign—in not com¬ 
 ing to church and hearing divine service; in refusing to take 
 the oath of allegiance and supremacy, and frequenting or 
 being present at seditious conventicles; and of all premunires, 
 judgments, convictions, sentences of excommunication, and 
 transportation thereupon; and of all fines, amercements, pains, 
 penalties, and forfeitures whatsoever, thereby incurred, with 
 restitution of lands and goods, and such other clauses, and non 
 obstantes, as may render this our pardon most effectual; for 
 which this shall be your warrant 
 
 Given at our Court at Whitehall the — day of June, in the 
 twenty-fourth year of our reign. 
 
 But now a new and very serious difficulty pre¬ 
 sented itself in the shape of enormous .fees, in 
 the different offices through which the pardon had 
 to pass; these amounted to between twenty and 
 
 thirty pounds for each person whose name was 
 inserted in it. Whitehead again applied to the 
 King, and at length all difficulties were removed 
 by the following order:— 
 
 His Majesty is pleased to command, that it be signified as 
 his pleasure to the respective officers and sealers, where the 
 pardon to the Quakers is to pass, that the pardon, though 
 comprehending great numbers of persons, do yet pass as one 
 pardon, and pay but as one. 
 
 Arlington. 
 
 At the Court at Whitehall, the 13th of Sep. 1672. 
 
 Whitehead adds, ‘ Though we had this warrant 
 from the King, yet we had trouble from some of 
 the covetous clerks, who did strive hard to exact 
 upon us.’ 
 
 A very considerable sum for those days, and for 
 such poor persons to raise, was needful to carry 
 this pardon into full effect. The dissenters had 
 been enormously plundered. Hundreds, if not 
 thousands, had been stripped of all that they pos¬ 
 sessed, so that the prison, intended and used as a 
 place of rigorous punishment, was in fact their 
 only shelter from the inclemency of the weather. 
 The expenses of a royal pardon for such a number 
 of prisoners was very great, not merely in the 
 drawing, engrossing, and passing through the 
 various offices and departments of the state, but 
 in employing efficient persons to go through the 
 kingdom to plead this pardon before the various 
 sessions and assizes. Every impediment that 
 cruelty could invent was thrown in the way of the 
 release of these Christian prisoners for noncon¬ 
 formity, by the squirarchy and clergy. To raise 
 the requisite funds, a strong appeal was made 
 by the following circular sent to the Quakers in 
 the country:— 
 
 Friends and Brethren, 
 
 We suppose you may not be insensible bow that upon 
 sundry applications made to the King and Council in time 
 past and more especially now of late for the release of our 
 dear suffering Friends, the Clerk and others, and others attend¬ 
 ing him and them, have upon that account been put to a great 
 deal of trouble and pains in writing of orders and letters to 
 the Sheriffs of the respective Counties in England and Wales, 
 and otherwise in order to Friends’ discharge, and although for 
 some years together their labour therein (as well as those of 
 us who travelled in that affair on Friends’ behalf) was from 
 time to time rendered ineffectual, yet at this present, there 
 appears a very great probability of accomplishing our friends 
 liberty, which hath and doth renew an additional trouble upon 
 them, and thereby a further obligation laid upon us to requite 
 them for their pains, and not only them but also the Clerks of 
 the Keeper, Attorney General, and other inferior officer's, who 
 in drawing up the Kings grant and orders, and Friends gene¬ 
 ral discharge (now in agitation towards an accomplishment) 
 will be at no small trouble in writing and other services in 
 order thereunto that we apprehend Friends cannot be clear if 
 they do not in some measure answer the reasonable part in 
 them by gratifying them for their pains. Where Tore we saw 
 meet to recommend it to such Friends in the Counties as are 
 or have been lately prisoners for the truth’s sake and who are 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 27 
 
 to share in the benefit that may accrue by the King’s intended 
 general discharge that they will be pleased to contribute their 
 proportion toward defraying of this great charge which they 
 are desired forthwith to take into their consideration accord¬ 
 ingly and to send it up to London with all convenient expedi¬ 
 tion unto Gerard Roberts, John Osgood, and William Welch 
 or any or either of them for the purpose aforementioned. We 
 remain Your dear friends and brethren. 
 
 London , 5 th of kth mo. 1072. 
 
 Part of the money is already disbursed on this behalf by 
 Friends in Londou. 
 
 Extracted from the Minute Book of the Society of Friends, 
 1672, Devonshire House, Bishopsgate. 
 
 All difficulties having been overcome, this Magna 
 Charta, or grant of liberty, was issued. 
 
 The original patent, with the Great Seal attached 
 to it, is carefully preserved by the Society of Friends, 
 in their archives at Devonshire House, and it con¬ 
 tains the names of twenty prisoners not included 
 in the order of Privy Council. But Bunyan’s 
 name is in both. It is in Latin in the usual form, 
 prepared by Mr. Nicolls, the principal clerk to the 
 Attorney-General, to the following effect:— 
 
 Charles the Second by the Grace of God of England, Scot¬ 
 land, France and Ireland, King, Defender, &c. To all to whom 
 the present letters shall come greeting—Know Ve that we 
 moved with piety 1 of our special grace, and of our certain 
 knowledge and mere motion. Have pardoned, remitted and 
 released and by these presents for us our heirs and successors 
 Do pardon, remit and release to Edward Pattison, John Ellis, 
 Arthur Cooke and Richard Cannon prisoners in our Gaol of 
 Newgate within our City of London. 
 
 And in the same form the prisoners are named 
 in the other jails throughout the kingdom. The 
 following were fellow-sufferers at that time in 
 Bedford jail:— 
 
 John Fenn, John Bunnion, John Dunn, Thomas Haynes, 
 George Farr, James Rogers, John Rush, Tabitha Rush, and 
 John Curfe, Prisoners in the Common Gaol for our County 
 of Bedford. [The names and places of imprisonment having 
 been given of the four hundred and ninety-one prisoners, the 
 grant goes on with great care to secure the benefit intended]— 
 to each of them—or by whatsoever other names or name— 
 surname—addition of name—Art—Office—Mystery or Place 
 they are known deemed called or named or lately was known 
 &c. All and all manner crimes transgressions offences of 
 premunire—unlawful conventicles contempts and ill behaviour 
 whatsoever—by himself alone or with any other person how¬ 
 soever whensoever or in what manner soever or wheresoever 
 advised commanded attempted done perpetrated or committed 
 before the thirtieth day of July last past before the date of 
 these presents, against the form of the Statute &c. In witness 
 of which thing we have caused these our letters to be made 
 
 1 Charles II.’s notion of being pious must have arisen 
 from the flattery bestowed upon his father, it being impossible 
 to have arisen from any other source. ‘ The conceptions of 
 kings are as far above the vulgar as their condition is; for, 
 being higher elevated, and walking upon the battlements of 
 sovereignty, they sooner receive the inspirations of heaven.’— 
 Dowel’s Dodonas Grove , p. 61. [Why not conduct Divine 
 service over the dome of St. Paul’s ?] 1 
 
 patent. Witness myself at Westminster the 13th of September 
 in the twenty-fourth year of our reign [1672.] By writ of 
 Privy Seal. Pigott. 
 
 This instrument is extended by the forms of law, 
 so that every name is repeated eleven times, and 
 in which our great sufferer’s name is spelt in four 
 different ways. Bunnion twice, Banyan five times, 
 Bunnyon once, and Bunnyan three times. It is 
 singular that he spelt his own name in different 
 ways in the early part of his life, and on the draw¬ 
 ing of his portrait by White it is spelt John Bunion, 
 while on the engraving done by the same artist it 
 is John Bunnyon . 2 The names inserted in this 
 pardon are four hundred and ninety-one. 
 
 Bunyan having had a very sharp controversy 
 with the Quakers, it is a strong manifestation of 
 their Christian spirit that he certainly obtained his 
 release through their instrumentality; for they 
 paid all the expenses of getting the royal grant, 
 and also of having it served throughout the king¬ 
 dom; and to do this with speed, many of the 
 prisoners being in a dying state with the severity 
 of their sufferings, duplicates of the pardon were 
 made and authenticated, and messengers were dis¬ 
 patched throughout the country to set the prisoners 
 at liberty. At first, Whitehead and his friends 
 took the patent with them, and produced it at the 
 assizes and quarter-sessions. With some reluct¬ 
 ance on the part of the persecuting justices, they 
 consented to discharge the prisoners named in tho 
 patent, not daring to disobey the royal mandate. 
 They then discovered that some of the pious suf¬ 
 ferers had still been omitted, notwithstanding tho 
 return made by the sheriffs, and the additions 
 which had been made at Whitehead’s request, 
 before the Great Seal was attached. On behalf of 
 these they pleaded effectually, and they also were 
 discharged from confinement. 
 
 The great anxiety of the Quakers to effect their 
 object is shown by many letters which passed at 
 the time between their leading ministers. This 
 will be seen by the following extracts:— 
 
 Ellis Hookes to Margaret Fox. 
 
 13 th of 6/A month {Sept.) 1672. 
 
 G. W. and myself have been much employed this summer 
 in the business of the prisoners liberty, &c.—(He describes the 
 process of getting the pardon through the various offices.) 
 
 Ellis Hookes to Margaret Fox. 
 
 1st of 8iA mo {Nov.) 1672. 
 
 The deed of pardon prepared on 11 skins about 500 names; 
 hoped that a’ letter from the Principal Secretary of State ‘ may 
 be effectual to discharge them.’ 
 
 Same to same. 
 
 10 th of 10 th month {Jan.) 167}. 
 
 All the prisoners were Discharged except those in Durham, 
 Cumberland, Lancashire, and Monmouth in Wales. 
 
 2 Print-room, British Museum. 
 
28 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 said that Bishop Barlow interceded for j useful church of Christ, under the name of ‘ The 
 
 Society of Friends.’ When they understood each 
 
 It is 
 
 Bunyan; hut if he did, there is no record or peti¬ 
 tion to that effect preserved either in the State 
 Paper or Privy Council Offices. He was not then 
 a bishop, but possessed great influence, and had 
 written, The case of a Toleration in Matters of 
 Religion , which he extended further than any divine 
 of that age. This, and his friendship with Dr. 
 Owen, might have given rise to the report. Barlow 
 became afterwards a trimmer, and sided with the 
 court party—a very natural effect of his elevation 
 into bad company. 
 
 My conviction is, that Bunyan owed his release 
 to the desolating effects produced by a wholesale 
 persecution visiting tens of thousands who dared 
 not, as they valued the honour of Christ or the 
 salvation of their souls, attend the national, and, 
 in their opinion, anti-scriptural service; and that 
 the Privy Council, finding that the country must 
 be plunged into revolution or ruin if the wretched 
 system of compulsive uniformity was continued, 
 determined to relax its severity, grant liberty of 
 worship, and discharge the prisoners. As this 
 could not be done by proclamation, and the pri¬ 
 soners were too poor to sue out a patent individu¬ 
 ally, much difficulty and delay might have arisen 
 to prevent their discharge. This was removed by 
 the active benevolence of George Whitehead. The 
 appeal which he and his friends made was allowed; 
 and he appears to have obtained the insertion of 
 twenty names which were not in the Privy Council 
 list to be added to the pardon. Whitehead’s con¬ 
 cern appears to have followed immediately after the 
 declaration for liberty of conscience was published. 
 Whether it arose from some intimation given him 
 by Mr. Moor, or from a secret influence of the 
 Holy Spirit, can only be known in a future state. 
 For the payment of the fees, and for sending his 
 release to the prison, and for obtaining his liberty, 
 Bunyan was indebted to the Quakers. By this 
 patent, all fines were remitted, and that without 
 ffnding security for future conduct. 
 
 Bunyan’s gratitude for the preservation of his 
 life, and his deliverance from prison, shone through 
 all his conduct. It appeared strikingly in his 
 admirable treatise of ‘ Antichrist.’ In the chap¬ 
 ter on the instruments that God w r ill use to brino; 
 Antichrist to his ruin: ‘ Let the King have verily 
 a place in your hearts. Pray for kings ; I am for 
 blessing of them that curse me; and for doing good 
 to them that hate me, and despitefully use me, and 
 persecute me.’ 1 
 
 From this time there appears no more discord 
 between Bunyan and the Quakers. The Ranters 
 had separated from them, and soon disappeared; 
 while the Quakers became united into a most 
 
 other’s peaceful and pious principles, all hostility 
 came to an end. 
 
 Charles Doe states that, on the 21st of Decem¬ 
 ber 1671, while Bunyan was yet a prisoner, he 
 was, by the church at Bedford, called to the pas¬ 
 toral office. This was in or about the last of his 
 twelve years’ imprisonment; and when set at 
 liberty, he preached the gospel publicly at Bed¬ 
 ford, and about the countries, and at London, with 
 very great success, being mightily followed every¬ 
 where. 2 
 
 From this time to his peaceful removal to the 
 celestial city, he was divinely protected, and his 
 liberty preserved, in the midst of the severe per¬ 
 secutions under which many of his nonconforming 
 brethren suffered. No man in the kingdom was 
 more fearless and uncompromising in the publi¬ 
 cation of Divine truth, both through the medium 
 of the press and of the pulpit. With him, the 
 fear of man was swallowed up in the fear of 
 God ; so that he boldly persevered in the path of 
 duty, at the imminent risk of losing all his tem¬ 
 poral blessings, and even life itself; and yet he 
 was unmolested! After producing such a work 
 as the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ the fruit of his prison 
 meditations; after coming forth from his thirteen 
 years’ incarceration in a narrow, damp, wretched 
 dungeon, which, by Divine power, had been trans¬ 
 formed into the house of God and gate of heaven; 
 he appeared like a Christian giant, refreshed by 
 wholesome discipline and diet. The emissaries of 
 Satan dared not again to risk the sending him to 
 a jail, where he might produce some other and 
 more potent instrument for the destruction of their 
 kingdom. Protected by his God, he devoted him¬ 
 self, body, soul, and spirit, to the building up of 
 that spiritual kingdom which disarms tyrants and 
 despots, both civil and ecclesiastical, sets the cap¬ 
 tive free, and fills the souls of those that receive it 
 with blessing and praise. 
 
 He possessed a devoted wife, to whom he was 
 married about the year 1658, he being then a 
 widower with four children. His marriage to his 
 first wife, one of his biographers says, ‘ proves, 
 too, I readily grant, that she had little prudence.’ 
 If by prudence lie means worldly pelf, Bunyan 
 valued it not; they were happy in their union, and 
 she was highly honoured. Had she been unhappy, 
 he would have been charged as the cause of her 
 unhappiness. She was the chosen vessel to assist 
 him in obtaining the treasures of the gospel, and 
 must be honoured as one of the means by which he 
 was prepared to publish his universal guide to Chris¬ 
 tian pilgrims. It was his second wife, who pleaded 
 
 1 See vol. ii. p. 74. 
 
 2 The Straggler. 
 
29 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Ms cause with such modest intrepidity before the 
 judges, and she must have assisted him greatly in 
 arranging his affairs. One of his oldest biographers 
 tells us, that ‘when he came abroad again, lie found 
 his temporal affairs were gone to wreck; and he 
 had, as to them, to begin again, as if he had newly 
 come into the world; but yet he was not destitute 
 of friends, who had all along supported him with 
 necessaries, and had been very good to his family; 
 so that, by their assistance, getting things a little 
 about him again, lie resolved, as much as possible, 
 to decline worldly business, and give himself wholly 
 up to the service of God.’ * 1 A circumstance which 
 took place on the 6th of November 1673, must 
 have greatly comforted him. IIis sufferings and 
 ministry were a blessing to his son, Thomas, who 
 not only became a member of his church, but was 
 set apart as an occasional preacher, and exercised 
 his ministerial gifts in the villages round Bedford. 
 In six years after his liberation, he had published 
 nine valuable treatises, among which were his con¬ 
 troversial books with his Baptist brethren; and 
 then he, having overcome all his scruples, pub¬ 
 lished, although against the wish of some of his 
 friends, the First Part of this greatest of all his 
 labours, his vacle-mecum of the heaven-ward pil¬ 
 grim, by which his memory is embalmed and his 
 name ditlused throughout all the Christian churches 
 ot every sect and denomination. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 "AS BUNYAN ASSISTED IN THE COMPOSITION OF IJIS 
 
 PILGBIM ? 
 
 To this question take his own reply— 
 
 * Some say the Pilgrim’s Progress is not mine. 
 Insinuating as if I would shine t 
 
 In name and fame by the worth of another. 
 
 Like some made rich by robbing of their brother. 
 
 Or that so fond I am of being sire, 
 
 111 father bastards : or, if need require. 
 
 I’ll tell a lie in print to get applause. 
 
 I scorn it; John such dirt-heap never was. 
 
 Since God converted him. Let this suffice 
 To show why I my Pilgrim patronize. 
 
 ‘It came from mine own heart, so to my head, 
 And thence into my ringers trickled; 
 
 Then to my pen, from whence immediately 
 On paper 1 did dribble it daintily. 
 
 ‘ Mauner and matter too was all mine own, 
 
 Nor was it unto any mortal known, 
 
 ’Till I had done it. Nor did any then, 
 
 By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen. 
 
 Add five words to it, or wrote half a line 9 
 
 Thereof: the whole, and ev’ry whit is mine. 
 
 ‘ Also for this - thine eye is now upon, 
 
 The matter in this mauner came from none, 
 
 * bife, ISmo, 1692; re-published by Ivimey, 1832, p. 31. 
 
 I he ‘ Holy W ar,’ in which these lines were inserted. 
 
 Bl r THE EDITOR. 
 
 But the same heart and head, fingers and pen, 
 
 As did the other. Witness all good men; 
 
 For none in all the world without a lie. 
 
 Can say that this is mine, excepting I. 
 
 I write not this of any ostentation. 
 
 Nor cause I seek ot men their commendation; 
 
 I do it to keep them trom such surmise, 
 
 As tempt them will iny name to scandalize. 
 
 Witness my name, if anagram’d to thee, 
 
 The letters make, Nu honey in a B. 
 
 ‘John Bunyan.’ 
 
 ‘ I dare not presume to say, that I know I have hit right in 
 everything; but this I can say, I have endeavoured so 
 to do. True, I have not for these things fished in other 
 men s waters; my Bible and Concordance are my only 
 library in my writings.’ 3 
 
 He who doubts the word of John Bunyan, knows 
 nothing of the character and soul of a man who 
 suffered nearly thirteen years’ imprisonment in 
 Bedford jail, rather than utter a falsehood or use 
 the slightest simulation. Such objectors deserve 
 chastisement in Doubting Castle, and should be 
 flogged with the royal garter— Honi soit qui mal 
 y pense. But such there have been from 1678 to 
 a late period ; and the same feeling which led the 
 Scribes and Pharisees to reject the Messiah, be¬ 
 cause he appeared as the son of a carpenter, pro- 
 bably has led authors of great repute to express 
 then doubts as to the originality of the ‘ Pilgrim’s 
 Progress,’ because the author was an unlettered 
 man—the reason why, as his pastor says, ‘ the 
 archers shot so sorely at him.’ 
 
 Dr. Dibdin, in his Typographical Antiquities, 
 describing Caxton’s Pilgrimage of the Soul, says— 
 
 ‘ This extraordinary production, rather than Ber¬ 
 nard s Isle of Man, laid the foundation of John 
 Bunyan’s “ Pilgrim’s Progress.’” 4 The late Dr. 
 Adam Clarke, in a Postscript to a Life of Bunyan, 
 observes that ‘ his whole plan being so very similar 
 to Bernard’s religious allegory, called the Isle of 
 Man, or, Proceedings in Manshire; and also to 
 that most beautiful allegorical poem, by Mr. Ed¬ 
 mund Spenser, oddly called the Faery Queen, there 
 is much reason to believe that one or other, if not 
 both, gave birth to the “ Pilgrim’s Progress.”’ 5 
 
 Mr. Montgomery, a devoted admirer of Bunyan’s 
 genius, considers that the print and the verses en¬ 
 titled The Pilgrim, in Whitney's Emblems, dedi¬ 
 cated to the Earl of Leicester, in 1585, n ight, 
 perhaps, have inspired the first idea of this extra¬ 
 ordinary work. 6 
 
 Southey, who investigated this subject with great 
 ability, came to a very pointed conclusion: ‘It 
 would, indeed, be as impossible for me to believe 
 
 3 Preface to ‘ Solomon’s Temple Spiritualized.* 
 
 4 Vol. i. p. 153. 
 
 6 Banyans Pilgrim: an Epic Poem by C. C. V. G., 1841, 
 p. 44. 
 
 3 Montgomery’s Christian Poet. 
 
30 
 
 THE TILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 that Bunyan did not write the “ Pilgrim’s Pro¬ 
 gress,” as that Porson did write a certain copy of 
 verses entitled the Devil's Thoughts.' Now, as 
 these verses were doubtless written by Southey 
 himself, he had arrived at a conviction that Ban¬ 
 yan was fully entitled to all the honour of con¬ 
 ceiving and writing his great allegory. Still, he 
 says, ‘ the same allegory had often been treated 
 before him. Some of these may have fallen in 
 Bunyan’s way, and modified his own conceptions 
 when he was not aware of any such influence.’ 1 It 
 is high time that these questions were fully inves¬ 
 tigated, and set at rest. 
 
 It must he kept in mind that Bunyan knew no 
 language hut his own; and that all his characters, 
 as well as the trial by jury, are purely English. 
 When he used five common Latin words in Dr. 
 Skill’s prescription, Ex came et sanguine Christi , 
 this perfectly unassuming author tells his readers, 
 in a marginal note, ‘ The Latine I borrow. It is 
 absurd to suppose that learned men read to him 
 old monkish manuscripts, or the allegories of a 
 previous age ; for his design was unknown, he had 
 formed no plan, nor had he any intention to have 
 written such a hook, until it came upon him sud¬ 
 denly. His first idea was inspired from one of his. 
 own works while composing it, and then the whole 
 story flowed into his mind as quick as he could 
 write it. Every attempt has been made to tarnish 
 his fair fame; the great and learned, the elegant 
 poet and the .pious divine, have asserted, hut with¬ 
 out foundation in fact, or even in probability, that 
 some of his ideas were derived from the works of 
 previous writers. 
 
 Every assertion or suggestion of this kind that 
 came to my knowledge, has been investigated, and 
 the works referred to have been analyzed. And 
 beyond this, every allegorical work that could be 
 found previous to the eighteenth century, has been 
 examined in all the European languages ; and the 
 result is a perfect demonstration of the complete ori¬ 
 ginality of Bunyan. ‘ It came from his own heart. ’ 
 The plot, the characters, the faithful dealing, are 
 all his own. And what is more, there has not 
 been found a single phrase or sentence borrowed 
 from any other book, except the quotations from 
 the Bible, and the use of common proverbs. To 
 arrive at this conclusion has occupied much time 
 and labour, at intervals, during the last forty years. 
 The works read and analyzed commence with our 
 monkish manuscripts, and continue through the 
 printed books published prior to the Reformation, 
 when the church, having no competition in the 
 cure of souls, spoke out without disguise; and 
 from that time to 1678, when our Pilgrim ap¬ 
 peared. Many, if not all the works so examined, 
 
 contain useful information ; and some of them show 
 what was taught by the Church of England when 
 she refused the Bible to the laity, and was unre¬ 
 formed. And, as my readers ought to judge for 
 themselves, while, in most cases, these rare volumes 
 are beyond their reach, it may prove useful to 
 print these analyses, and then every reader can 
 form his own opinion as to the probability, or 
 rather the impossibility, of Bunyan's having gained 
 any idea, or phrase, or name, from any source but 
 his own prolific imagination. My determination 
 in all these researches has been to report the whole 
 truth; and had it been discovered that some hints 
 might have been given by previous writers, it 
 would not have been any serious reflection upon 
 the originality of a work which has no prototype. 
 This idea is well represented by Mr. Montgomery: 
 
 ‘ If the Nile could "be traced to a thousand springs, 
 it would still be the Nile ; and so far undishonoured 
 by its obligations, that it would repay them a 
 thousand-fold, by reflecting upon the nameless 
 streams, the glory of being allied to the most re¬ 
 nowned of rivers,But there has been no dis¬ 
 covery of any tributary spring; noborrowed phrases; 
 no more hints, even, than such as naturally arise 
 from the open treasury or storehouse of Holy Writ. 
 
 The greatest characteristic of original genius is 
 its spontaneous exertion—the evidence of having 
 written without labour and without the conscious¬ 
 ness of doing anything remarkable, or the ambi¬ 
 tious aim of doing a great work. The greatest 
 efforts of genius flow as naturally as it is for com¬ 
 mon men to breathe. In this view, Bunyan s 
 work comes nearer to the inspired poetry of the 
 Hebrews in its character than any other human 
 composition. He wrote from the impulse of his 
 genius, sanctified and illuminated by a heavenly 
 influence; as if, indeed, he had exerted no volun¬ 
 tary supervision over its exercise. Everything is 
 as natural and unconstrained as if it had not been 
 intended for public inspection. There has not 
 been found any model with which it can even be 
 compared. 2 3 It is a beautiful transparency, seen 
 as the heavenly light shines through—the renewed 
 spirit alone enjoys the picture in its perfection, 
 with all its chaste but glowing colours. It can 
 be fully appreciated only by him who possesses 
 that spiritual light without which the things of God 
 and heaven cannot be discerned. 
 
 Bunyan’s works furnish ample proof that his 
 mind was preparing, for many years, the plan and 
 incidents which render this allegory so striking. 
 This may easily be traced in his works, althougl 
 it was not known to himself; for, however he was ah 
 his spiritual life employed in unintentionally pre- 
 
 2 Introductory Essay to the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ p. xxv. 
 
 Collins. 
 
 3 Dr. Cheever. 
 
 1 Southey’s Life of Banyan, p. x*. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 31 
 
 paring the material, the design struck him suddenly. 
 Twenty years before his great work appeared, he 
 published a most pungent work, called ‘ Sighs 
 from Hell.’ The preface to this book alludes to a 
 pilgrimage; and in it is found some similar ideas 
 to those which occur in the conversation between 
 Christian and Pliable. It thus commences: 
 ‘Friend, because it is a dangerous thing to be 
 walking towards a place of darkness, the journey 
 that most of the poor souls in the world are taking 
 with delight, I have thought it my duty to tell 
 thee what sad success those souls have had, and 
 are like to have, by persevering therein. Why, 
 friend, hast thou thy back to heaven and thy face 
 to hell; and art thou running full hastily that way ? 
 I beseech thee, stop thy earnest race, and look 
 what entertainment thou art like to have. Hark! 
 dost thou hear the bitter cries of those who have 
 gone before ; shall not these mournful groans 
 pierce thy flinty heart ? 0 ! sinner, sinner, there 
 
 are better things than hell to be had, and a thou¬ 
 sand times cheaper. 0 ! there is no comparison ; 
 there is heaven, there is God, there is Christ, there 
 is communion with an innumerable company of 
 saints and angels.’ How do these ideas remind 
 us of Christian’s encouraging words to Pliable ! 
 
 In examining the following accounts of allegories 
 composed by learned doctors, bishops, and divines, 
 the simple Christian will rejoice and triumph in the 
 amazing superiority of a poor unlettered preaching 
 mechanic, guided only by his Bible. Sanctified 
 learning is exceedingly valuable ; yet the produc¬ 
 tions of an unlettered man, wholly influenced bv 
 the Holy Oracles, shines resplendently over the la¬ 
 boured, murky productions of lettered men, who, for¬ 
 saking the simplicity of the gospel, are trammelled 
 with creeds, confessions, canons, articles, decretals, 
 fathers, and, we may almost add, grandfathers. 
 
 The first work, in the order of time, that claims 
 our notice, has never been printed. It is called 
 
 The Pilgrim. 
 
 This ancient poem, a manuscript on vellum, illustrated with 
 drawings, but very much damaged, is in the Cottonian Collec¬ 
 tion in the British Museum; probably translated in the fifteenth 
 century from the first of the Three Pilgrimages , a French 
 manuscript. It is in the form of a dream, and it concludes by 
 fixing the pilgrim as a iqonk in a Cistercian monastery. Soon 
 alter setting out, he is tempted by a golden image, but is driven 
 from it by the appearance of a dead corpse. lie then en¬ 
 counters an armed man, who endeavours to entice him to turn 
 aside to see his mistress, and uses a magic circle and incanta¬ 
 tions. They hold a long conversation, in which is narrated 
 the case of a Duke Fryse, who had consented to be baptized; 
 he is represented with a girdle about his middle, otherwise 
 naked, except his crown; but w'hen he had got into the bap¬ 
 tistery, he becomes alarmed by a voice which informs him 
 that it is an unlucky day: — 
 
 * Eor hym thought he herde a cry 
 That affermed certcyuly 
 
 For synne and for Inyquyte 
 How mo folk schulde dampned be 
 At the day of Jugemente 
 Gon to helle there to be brent, 
 
 Ye mo as in comparisoun 
 Thanne folk for tlier savacyon 
 Scholde that day receyucd be 
 To dwelle in heuene that fayre cytc.’ 
 
 The duke, although a bishop has got him by one hand, with 
 one of his legs in the baptistery, gets his liberty, and runs 
 away. Had sprinkling been the practice in those days, the 
 bishop might readily have managed the ceremony with a 
 handful ot water. The pilgrim then has a very long adventure 
 with Heresy, who strives earnestly to draw him aside. She is 
 engaged with a pair of scissors, cutting strips from Pelagians, 
 Allans, and other ‘ Sectys founde false and vntrewe.’ These 
 she puts together, to form a new system of divinity. He 
 becomes sadly puzzled; she had laid her nets so artfully, ‘ In 
 loud, on water, and in the hayr.’ He sees many attempt to 
 pass, but all are entangled; at length by fasting and by great 
 penance, he slips through the nets. 
 
 He is then assaulted by Satan, who tells him that he has 
 devoured thousands of Christ’s flock, and has so many arts 
 that he cannot escape him. The devil, to terrify the pilgrim, 
 narrates a recent adventure by which he had succeeded in 
 destroying a holy hermit. He had transformed himself into 
 an angel of light, and w r ent to the hermit, warning him that 
 Satan would soon overcome him if he was not courageous to 
 resist; that he would appear to him in the shape of his father, 
 and if he parleyed with the fiend, he must be lost; and ex¬ 
 horted him to smite the fiend at once with sword or knife. 
 Soon after this, his father really came to visit him, when the 
 deluded hermit plunged a dagger to his heart, and thus fell 
 into the jaws of the fiend. The pilgrim, much terrified, kept 
 crossing himself, at which Satan drew back; and by continu¬ 
 ing to make the sign of the cross, he makes his escape. He 
 is then stopped by Fortune and her Wheel, and by Idolatry, 
 but evades them. A fortune-teller wishes him to have his 
 nativity cast, but as he knows that many men are born at the 
 same moment, some to fortune and many to misery, he knows 
 that there can be no virtue in such consultations of the stars, 
 lie is then profited by images in churches, to remind us of the 
 holy lives of saints :— 
 
 * And vn to folkes many on [a one] 
 
 Ful greet profiyte also they don.’ 
 
 Sorcery endeavours to catch him with her crooked hook; 
 and he is assailed by Worldly-gladness, but escapes. At length 
 Grace Dieu visits him in a stately ship, having a palace arid 
 castle on deck. He embarks, and is shown a large baptistery, 
 filled with tears from an eye in a rock. This bath is replenished 
 with tears of repentance, by works of supererogation. Its 
 virtues are thus described :— 
 
 * For it re-cureth euery wounde 
 Call this Baptym the secunde 
 That dothe away alle greuance 
 With which water Dame penaunce 
 Makyth a lye 1 I the ensure 
 To wasche away al ordure, 
 
 In whiche bath in certayne 
 The hooly womman Mawdelyue 
 Iwashen was tak heed her to 
 The Apostle Peter eke also 
 And many mo than I may telle 
 Were Iwaschen in this welle 
 
 * ‘A lye;’ water impregnated with alkaline salt. 
 
32 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 And so schalt thou by reed of me 
 Yeue tbou lyste to purged be.’ 
 
 Grace Lieu fills up tbe bath, and the pilgrim, naked, enters 
 the baptistery to his middle, and is bathed and washed. She 
 then tells him be may make bis choice of monastic orders 
 Cisterces, Clunys, Chartcrhous, or Preechers Minours: be 
 chooses to enter the Cistercian order. The porter, ‘Drede 
 of God,’ at first refuses him j hut Charity receives and shows 
 him over the establishment: he is shown many hooks. The 
 librarian says:— 
 
 ‘ And my name zene thou lyste be 
 Is called Agyographe, 
 
 Which is to seyne 1 the ensure 
 Of holy wrytynge the Scripture, 
 
 And at feyres and at feestis 
 I reste in skylines off dede bestis.’ 
 
 She expresses a clear notion of the Old Testament as en¬ 
 lightened by the New :— 
 
 * I mene as thus in sentement, 
 
 That the oolde testament 
 Were derke and cloudy off his syght 
 Zeue that it ne took his lyght 
 Claryfyed by entendement 
 Off the newe testament, 
 
 Whos schynynge in conclusyoun 
 Is cause off our Salvacyoun.’ 
 
 He is shown a mirror, which exhibits the sins of the person 
 who looks in it; he is also shown one of Plattery’s mirrors, 
 which exhibits the most defiled, as angels of purity. He is at 
 length introduced to the chief prior, Obedience, and sits down 
 to dinner:— 
 
 ‘ And also as I dyde obserue, 
 
 Noon other folke at mete serue 
 But follces deede euere more 
 Where off I was abaschyd sore.’ 
 
 Abstinence is the freytourer and butler; the servants were 
 the skeletons of those who had founded and endowed the abbey. 
 Wilful Poverty, in a state of nudity, sings a song, ending with— 
 
 ‘ I slepe in Jove and sekerness 
 For theues may not robbe me.’ 
 
 Unwilling Poverty sits grumbling and murmuring. Dame 
 Chastity at last introduces the pilgrim to Prayer, who makes 
 him welcome in these lines:— 
 
 ‘ Wherefore callyd I am Prayere 
 Whiche that am the messagere 
 That flee to heuene with whynges lyght, 
 
 Per aboue the sterres bryght 
 To fore the lord to present 
 Prayer made in good entente.’ 
 
 He then speaks to the pilgrim about the servants, who were 
 the spectres of the founders:— 
 
 ‘ And eche wyght for his good dede 
 Is worthi to ressevue his mede 
 Lyke his meryte off equyte 
 These deede folk which thou dost se.’ 
 
 Grace Dieu, Obedience, Latrya, and Prayer, then give him 
 instructions for his future conduct in the monastery, where 
 he remains until death strikes him, and he awakes from his 
 sleep. 
 
 There is an ancient pilgrimage noticed in Skel¬ 
 ton’s Byght Delectable Treaty se upon a Goodly 
 
 Garlande or Chapelet of Laurell. The autlior re¬ 
 counts his literary labours ; inter alia —• 
 
 * Of my ladys grace at the contemplacyouu 
 Owt of frenshe in to euglysshe prose 
 Of mannes lyfe the peregryuacioun 
 He did translate, enterprete and disclose.’ 
 
 No copy of this pilgrimage has been discovered 
 and identified as his; and very high authority con¬ 
 nects the second line with the ‘ peregrynatioun. 
 
 If so, it is in prose; but if the first two lines refer 
 to the Contemplation on the Virgin Mary s Grace, a 
 | prose work, and Skelton being a poet, it would lead 
 us to infer that the pilgrimage was in verse. The 
 poem last described may prove to be the trans¬ 
 lation referred to by Skelton. Be that as it may, 
 Bunyan never gained a hint from John Skelton, 
 the satirist. 
 
 The Abbey of the Holy Ghost . 
 
 This curious allegory was written by John Al- 
 cocke, the founder of Jesus College, Cambridge, 
 a learned and abstemious English bishop, in the 
 reign of Henry VII. 
 
 The author represents the fall and recovery of mankind under 
 the simile of an Abbey, the inmates of which ore perfect in holi- 
 ness and happiness. The abbess is Charity ; the prioress, Wis¬ 
 dom; the sub-prioress, Mekenesse; and the nuns, Poverty, Clean- 
 ness, Temperance, Soberness, Penance, Buxomness, Confession, 
 Righteousness, Predication, Strength, Pacience, Simplicity, 
 Mercy, Largeness, Reason. Pity, Meditation, Orison, Devocion, 
 Contemplation, Chastity, Jubilation, Honesty, Curtesy, lear, 
 and Jealousy. This abbey was conveyed by the Almighty to 
 Adam, Eve, and their heirs for ever, upon condition that he 
 withstood the temptation of the fiend and that oj his wife. 
 The deed is witnessed by angels and man, heaven aud earth, 
 sun and moon, stars, and all creatures. Geven at Paradise, 
 the first day that man was made; in the year of the reigning 
 of Almighty God, King of Kings, whose kingdom never began 
 nor never shall have end. No persons were to be admitted 
 until Conscience had cleansed the soul with grace of the Holy 
 Ghost. Two maidens, called Love and Righteousness, shall 
 cast away from Conscience all manner of filth; Meekness and 
 Poverty shall keep them poor in spirit. 
 
 The abbey was situated upon the waters of repentance. Joy 
 and Mercy built the walls and strengthened them with alms. 
 Patience and Strength are the pillars and buttresses. The 
 nuns have each her place; Contemplation is the doctor ; Devo¬ 
 tion the butler [the bishop remarks, ‘ Alas 1 if I durst say, 
 full many be in religion (nuns), but few be religious J ; Ory- 
 son shall be chanter. St. Bernard saith, When we pray in 
 good life, our good Angel danseth and maketh thereof a present 
 to the Father of heaven. The abbey being so well furnished, 
 a tyrant came, and in an evil hour, while the portress was 
 absent, he put in his four daughters, who were all of shrewd 
 manners; the fiend father of them all. Their names were 
 Pride, Envy, False Judgment, and Lust; and these destroyed 
 the abbey, and dispersed the inmates. The punishment of 
 man was the loss of Paradise, to spend his days in sorrow, to 
 eat grass that groweth on the earth, and never to come to 
 bliss until the abbey was restored. When Adam and Eve died, 
 their souls went to hell; and not only they, hut all those that 
 of them came for four thousand six hundred years; to hell 
 
33 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 they went, every one. Then some of the nuns prayed the Holy 
 Ghost for assistance. David, Isaiah, and others, endeavoured 
 to re-edify the abbey; but in vain. At length Christ came, 
 and sought out the abbess and her company for t hir ty-three 
 ) cars; and at last brought them together by hanging on the 
 cross; after which he led them with him into hell, 1 and took 
 out Adam and Eve his wife, and all his friends, and replaced 
 them in the Abbey of the Holy Ghost in Paradise. 
 
 Prom this curious and very rare little volume, Bunyan could 
 not have gained any idea; but in it are some translations of 
 passages of Scripture made fifty years before any version of 
 the Bible was published in English, which prove the great 
 liberties the church took with the Scriptures; and the extent 
 to which they misled the people, while the Holy Oracles were 
 locked up in a foreign language. Matt. iii. 2: ‘ Shrive ye and 
 do y e penance, and be ye of good belief; the kingdom of heaven 
 nigheth fast. John viii. 6 : ‘ He stooped down and wrote on 
 the ground with his finger all their sins, so that each of them 
 might se how siufull other was.’ Matt. xxvi. 38: ‘ I have, he 
 said, full much dread against that I shall die. Sit ye down, 
 
 he said, and wake ye, and bid your beads till I come again to 
 you.’ 2 
 
 The Pylgremage of the Sowle. Printed by Wil¬ 
 liam Caxton. 1483. Small Folio. 3 * 
 
 Dr. Dibdin having, in bis account of this very 
 laie volume, stated that ‘this extraordinary pro¬ 
 duction, which, perhaps, rather than Bernard’s 
 Isle of Man, laid the foundation of John Bunyan’s 
 “ Pilgrim s Progress,” ’ I shall make no apology to 
 the reader for the following specimens of its poetry 
 and prose. Not daring to trust to the doctor’s 
 specimens, which occupy eight folio pages, my 
 analysis is drawn from a careful perusal of the 
 oiiginal edition by Caxton, compared with the 
 manuscript written in 1413 ; the result is, to estab¬ 
 lish honest John s originality, and to excite great 
 surprise that the learned doctor could have jmb- 
 lished so unfounded an insinuation. 
 
 As I laye in a seynt laurence nyght, slepyng in my bedde, 
 me bifelle a full merueylous dreme. 
 
 Having finished my pilgrimage and laid aside my fleshly 
 cunion, it appeared loathsome and dame Misericord buried it. 
 The fowle horrible Satan cruelly menaced me and told me I 
 was his prisoner a youngling of full huge beauty appeared, 
 and defends the soul of the pilgrim, who is taken to judgement, 
 lie is biought before Michael, while his good angel pleads for 
 him Satan cries loudly against him. The devils complain that as 
 soon as a pilgrim is born and washed in the salt lye (christened) 
 Grace Dieu assigns them a guardian angel—we are ill used, let 
 us cry a row so loud that in spite of them they shall hear our 
 complaint. Peter the porter of heaven is called to testify 
 whether the pilgrims have done penance—Call St. George for 
 the Gentiles, for clerks St. Nicholas, for hermits St. Anthony, 
 
 St. Benet for monks, for wedded folk St. Paul—not that he 
 was ever married, but he taught the duties of marriage—for 
 
 n J^ CIlce the descent into hell’ in a Popish creed, falselv 
 called ‘ the Apostles’ Creed.’ 3 
 
 “ from a copy in the Editor’s library, printed by Wynkin 
 de vv orde. ' 
 
 3 British Museum, 21, d. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 widows St. Anne, for maids St. Katherine. The Pilgrim is 
 placed before the tribunal, and his guardian angel pleads that 
 he had kept his belief, never lost his scrip, nor his burden f and 
 having persevered to the end, he ought to be safe. The cursed 
 Satan acknowledged that the Pilgrim passed the water and was 
 therein washed and fully cleansed of all rather fylthe, 5 but as 
 soon as he knew good and evil he set little by that washing, 
 but cast himself like a swine in ordure and fylthe. He was 
 washed at a tender age unwillingly, and although by this laver 
 the foul spot of sin original was utterly avoided, yet he has not 
 kept the vow, and is more spotted with deadly sin than he was 
 oefore he was washed; and as all heathen men that have never 
 received this laver belong to our Company because they have 
 it not, much more those that have received these gifts of Grace 
 de Dieu and despised them must be ours. The soul pleads in 
 verse, he appeals to Jesus. Some of the lines are striking: 
 
 * For though there ran a river from thy side, 
 
 That all the world doth fully overflow. 
 
 Thy grace is whole, as every man may know.’ 
 
 He then appeals to Alary— 
 
 ‘ INow be my help a blissful heaven’s Queue 
 Let somewhat of the grace on me be seen 
 
 I am be-knowen that I have done amiss 
 Eternal death deserved with my deed 
 But gracious Lady Queen of Heaven’s bliss 
 Thou be my help and comfort in this nede 
 I am that same that highly have mis-wrought 
 Against thy child Jesus and eke thee 
 Yet know I well that Lion is he not 
 Nor thou nor might no Lioness be 
 In thou there is no malice nor cruelty 
 
 Though that I have thy son and the agrieved 
 By thee is all my trust to be relieved.’ 6 
 
 He calls upon Michael—John Baptist, apostles and martyrs, 
 and all saints. 
 
 Justice pleads against him, and will allow none to speak ou 
 his behalf. He then answers for himself; and accuses Satan 
 of being a liar; but the fiend calls the worm of conscience 7 to 
 bear witness against him, and he relates all his wickedness that 
 was not purged with penance, and as he spoke, Satan wrote it 
 all down in a great paper. The soul defends himself by having 
 at all times borne his burdon and scrip, 8 by his natural frailty 
 and the temptations of Satan and allurements of the world. 
 Mercy pleads for him that he had been contrite, and made 
 amends for sin, and had confessed; but w'hen his good and 
 bad deeds were weighed, the evil was heaviest. Then Mercy 
 flew to heaven and brought back a pardon from Jesus, which 
 is given in verse ; inter alia :— 
 
 * At instance of mine own mother sw r eet 
 To whom I may no manner of thing deny 
 And mercy also may I not forget 
 
 Unto their good 9 myself I will apply 
 This grace I grant them of my royalty 
 That I shall them receive unto my peace 
 Of hell pain I grant them full release.’ 
 
 4 The pilgrim’s staff. 
 
 6 ‘ Rather fylthe ;’ early pollution, original sin. 
 
 6 Reader, this is undisguised Popery, published to the world 
 before the Reformation, by the Church of Rome. Judge for 
 yourself. Do Papists pray to the Virgin ? Is she their inter¬ 
 cessor and saviour ? 
 
 7 Synderesys. 
 
 8 11 is staff or vows. 
 
 9 ‘ Bone’ in the poem. The French word not translated. 
 
 5 
 
34 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Christ balances the wicked works of this sinner with— 
 
 ‘ Of the treasure of my hitter passion 
 And of the merit of my mother dear 
 To whom none other hath comparison 
 With merit of my saints ah in fear 
 That to my bidding full obedient were 
 Of plenty and of superabundance 
 A forset 1 full which putteth in balance.’ 
 
 The balance is in favour of the soul, and his sentence is to 
 bear all his sins as a burden into purgatory, and abide in the 
 fire until all are burned and ‘ thou, clean purged of all thy foul, 
 sins, shall then be pardoned.’ At this sentence Satan is sore 
 
 annoyed, and has great anguish. 
 
 He meets a number of pilgrims from purgatory, who sing to 
 the Trinity and to Mary a song of praise for their deliverance. 
 The angels join in a song without comparison more lusty than 
 he had heard before. Then came one pilgrim, conducted by a 
 huge number of angels, each having in his hand some lusty 
 instrument, as harp, organs, &c., some of which he could not 
 scribe. It was a soul who, by extraordinary penance, had suf¬ 
 fered his purgatory on earth. He then sees a number of 
 pilgrims condemned to ‘ brenne withynne the fyre of helle, 
 neuer to be releued.’ An ugly company of devils seized them, 
 saying, ‘ Goo we fast in to helle ; there shall we fynde a warm 
 duellynge place.’ Our poor pilgrim is taken to purgatory, 
 where, in three days, he imagines that he has suffered a thou¬ 
 sand years’ indescribable tortures. His guardian angel is with 
 him in the fire, but being a pure spirit, suffereth not. In his 
 torments, he is told that naught can help him but masses and 
 the good ‘ dedes of hooly chirche.’ He asks, What is the use 
 of the pardons and indulgences granted by the church ? His 
 angel tells him that they abridge the time of punishment and 
 pain; that for every deadly sin he must suffer seven years’ 
 purgation, and the thousand years that he had suffered was but 
 as a moment, for his fardel of sins seemed to be as huge as 
 ever, although the fire was so fierce, that if the great sea fell 
 therein, it would be dried in a moment. At length, Grace 
 Dieu sends from the church a quantity of prayers, masses, and 
 good works, to comfort the pilgrims in purgatory—a packet 
 to each prisoner, with the names of those who had purchased 
 the masses for their relief. Every soul answered the summons, 
 and greedily took the relief, all swimming in hot fire : it was 
 ointment that relieved their horrid pains, and decreased their 
 burden of sins. He then discovers the place in which Adam 
 and the Lathers, to John the Baptist, were confined, till Christ 
 descended into hell and released them. The prison also in 
 which the souls of infants who had died without being christened 
 —a dark and doleful place, where they will be shut up for 
 ever. He inquires how it is possible for the God of love thus 
 to condemn the innocent ? His angel refers him to the words 
 of Christ to Nicodemus : ‘ As seynt John recordeth, he seith, 
 {Jiat an innocent deyng without baptym is dampned withouted 
 ende .’ 2 And they lay in endless darkness, and never know 
 joy; and this pain shall be extended to all the most innocent 
 •souls not baptized. All these places of punishment are within 
 enclosed all round by the earth. He is then led by his angel 
 to the surface of the earth, the fire still burning within him, 
 to every place in which he had committed sin; the punishment 
 was according to the nature of his crime—sometimes shut up 
 in thick ice, the pain being more intolerable than fire. This 
 w T as for having used baths and steues 3 for easement of his 
 body. One soul who had been purged, could not escape. 
 
 1 * A forset;’ a bundle. 
 
 2 Strange perversion of the words, * Ye must be born again 1 
 
 3 Brothels. 
 
 because his executors had neglected to pay his debts. He finds 
 that one day’s penance upon earth cleanseth from sins more 
 than years of purgatory. In the journey he finds his bones, 
 and has a long conversation with them, in which they mutually 
 criminate each other. 
 
 His guardian angel then takes him into the very depth of 
 the earth, to hell, the stink of which nearly caused his soul to 
 burst. The unbaptized innocents he saw in a place: Hit was 
 wonder merueylous blacke and derke ynowe:’ ever flying about 
 seeking, but never finding, a hole to escape. He then^came 
 to a darker place of ‘ fire horrible and wonder hideous, lhere 
 saw he the cursed fiends; some blew the fire; some, w ith iion 
 forks, righted the brands; some, with sharp hooks, dressed the 
 wretched souls into divers pains. Lucifer sat in a red-hot iion 
 chair, chained with red-hot chains. The devils torment each 
 other. The punishment of Pride is that a devil sits upon her 
 head, and befouls her as much as he can. Hypocrites are 
 trodden perpetually under foot by devils, ingulfed in fire and 
 stink. The envious and backbiters were hung by red-hot 
 iron hooks through their tongues over eternal flames. Juaas 
 thus hung, but as his mouth had kissed the king, his lips 
 shined like gold; and his tongue was drawn out through his 
 neck, and he hung in hottest flames. Traitors were broken 
 upon wheels, fixed by hooks turning swiftly round; the same 
 punishment was inflicted upon lawyers, proctors, and counsel, 
 who, to fill their purses, had pleaded for the guilty against the 
 innocent. Upon seeing a number of souls being devoured by 
 wolves, but never eaten; others having molten brass poured 
 down their throats, he swooned, but is revived by his angel. 
 These w r ere the punishments of extortioners. Angry people 
 were tied up in bundles, and pitched into fiery furnaces; drunk¬ 
 ards were laid upon burning coals, with sulphur, their throats 
 slit, and tongues drawn through the slit; the lechours weie 
 laid upon beds of burning thorns, full of venomous and huge 
 toads and worms, for ever biting and gnawing them. Ihe 
 boiling caldron and pit of hell was boiling full of heretics; and 
 when our Lord shall renew the world, all their burning and 
 stinking and horrible pains shall be renewed, and all the filth 
 that may be found in every other place, shall be cast thereto. 
 He then ascends to the earth, and sees the tree from which 
 Eve plucked the apple, and which, after process of time, formed 
 the cross on which the Saviour suffered. Then follows a 
 number of dialogues between the Trinity, regarding the scheme 
 of mercy. His purgation being finished, and sins consumed, 
 his angel took him by the hand, and began to mount towards 
 heaven. The angel shows him many mansions; tells him 
 how saints’ days are to be kept. In the feast of the Purification, 
 the cherubims sing this song:— 
 
 * Heryed 4 be thou blysfull heuen quene 
 And worshyped mote 5 thou be in euery place 
 That moder art and very mayden clene 
 Of god our lord thou geten hast that grace 
 Thou cause of ioyes arte, and of solace 
 By meryte of thy great humylyte 
 And by the floure of thy vyrgynyte 
 Honoured be thou, blessyd lady bryght 
 By thy person embelysshed is nature 
 Of heuen blysse augmented is the lyght 
 By presence of so fayre a creature 
 Thy worthynesse passeth al mesure 
 For vnto thyn estate Imperyall 
 No preysynge is that may be peregal.’ 6 
 
 4 ‘ Heryed;’ praised—from which is derived hurrah . 
 
 5 ‘ Mote;’ must. 
 
 6 ‘ Peregal;’ equal. 
 
INTRODUCTION EY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 Iu the feast of Ascension the father honoured the sone; and 
 at the feast of Assumption, the Son honoured and worshipped 
 his mother. 
 
 Song of angels on Easter day, to the Saviour, is— 
 
 ‘ When thou were dead, to hell thou descended 
 Aud fetched them out that lay there in pain.’ 
 
 The angel illustrates to him the doctrine of the Trinity, by 
 the world being round, without beginning or end; having 
 breadth, length, and depth, which three, by unity in measure, 
 comprises one world. So in a body is matter, form, and sub¬ 
 stance ; if one of these be missing, it is imperfect. So the 
 matter is likened to the Father, the form to the Son, and the 
 substance to the Holy Ghost. So to every perfect work, there 
 must be might, cunning, and will. He then asks, that as 
 these three are one, how came it that one was separated and 
 became incarnate alone ? This is accounted for, as a sunbeam 
 does not leave the sun, but enliveneth the earth; so the Son 
 illuminated the world, being clothed with man’s flesh in the 
 blessed maiden, and yet departed he not from his Father’s 
 presence. YY hen properly prepared, the angel went to clear 
 his way to heaven, and as he looked after him, a * wonder 
 huge light descended from the high heaven, smiting on his 
 e ye» an( l awoke him from his sleep; whereof he was full sorry, 
 alter having seemed to live so many thousand years ; the clock 
 struck twelve, and the bell tolled midnight, and he remembered 
 that he had not slept three hours while all these adventures 
 had passed.. Now Jesus give us grace to come to this bliss ! 
 Translated in 1413, and printed by W. Caxton, June 6, 1483. 
 
 Tlieie is, in the British Museum, 1 a very fine and 
 curious MS. copy of this very singular work, illus¬ 
 trated with rude illuminated drawings. It finishes 
 with, Here endith the dreem of the pilgrimage of 
 the soule, translated owt of the Frensch in to En- 
 glysche. The yere of our Lord m.cccc.xiii.’ The 
 translator craves indulgence, if 4 in som places ther 
 it he ouer fantastyk nought grounded nor foundable 
 in Holy Scripture, ne in docteors wordes, for I 
 myght not go fro myn auctor.’ 
 
 The original work was written in verse by Guil¬ 
 laume de Guillonville, prior of Chaalis, about 1330 
 
 ij 
 
 U J 
 
 hij 
 
 vi 
 
 v ii 
 
 vi ij 
 
 IX 
 
 X 
 
 The Booke of the Pylgrymage of Man. 4to, 26 
 leaves. Woodcut of Pilgrim, with staff and 
 cockle-shell, and clasped book in his left hand. 2 
 
 ^ Here begynneth a boke, in Frencke called, le pelerynage de 
 L’homme (in latyn, peregrinatio humani generis), and in oure 
 Maternal tunge, the pylgrymage of mankynd, of late drawen 
 and in compendiouce prose eopouded by the reuerent father in 
 god dane william 3 hendred Prioure of the honourable place and 
 
 * Addit. MSS., Bibl. Eg. 615. It was bought of Mr. Rodd 
 1836 ; but appears to want the first leaf of the text. 
 
 This rare book is in the library of Queen’s College, Oxford. 
 
 I am indebted to my friend, Mr. Underhill, for' the above 
 analysis. 
 
 . J 2p u . lUaim e de Guilleville, moine de clializ. It was printed 
 in Alletard; not dated, but about the year 1500. 
 
 Air. Gres well, in his notice of this book, says, ‘ Not only in 
 ear y ages, but in later also, mankind have been found less 
 willing to be instructed by abstract reasoning, than by fables 
 or similitudes. Hence the popularity of these old religious 
 fictions. The “ Pilgrim’s Progress” of our day confessedly 
 excels all others of its kind. And though some have endea- 
 
 pryory of Leomynstre: and now newly, at the specyal com- 
 maundemente of the same Father reuerent, I haue compyled the 
 tenure of the same iu Metre comprehended in xxvi. chaptours 
 as ensuynge appereth. 
 
 THE TABLE. 
 
 First, the prologe, with the exposyon and enterpretacyon 
 of the name of their sayd reuerent father in God. * 
 
 Item how man was made of viij partyes. Capitulo primo. 
 
 Item how almyghty god put adam into paradyce, and of 
 his first age. Ca. 
 
 Item the secounde age of mankynde, and howe y e sonnes 
 of noe Bylded the Toure of Babylon. Cap. 
 
 Item how man procedyd his thirde age, and of the 
 
 tynkynge of cyties. Ca. 
 
 Item howe Moyses receyuyd ij tables of the lawe in the 
 
 iiij age of man. Ca. 
 
 Item howe kyng Salamon byldyd the temple of god in 
 
 the Cytie of Jerusalem. Ca. 
 
 Item howe the vj age enduryd telle che commynge of 
 
 oure sauyoure. Ca. 
 
 Item how mankynde endured and of the nombre of yeres 
 from the begynnynge of the worlde to the byrthe of 
 criste. Ca. 
 
 Item howe almyghty God was pylgrym for iij causes 
 and howe he gaue mankynde ensample to do his pyl¬ 
 grymage. Ca. 
 
 Item which iij synguler poyntys apperteyne to a pyl- 
 gryme. Ca. 
 
 Item howe mankynde entereth the londe of June at the 
 age of lx. Ca. . 
 
 Item an exposicion autorysed by Scripture of y e concep- 
 cion of seynt John Baptyst. Ca. .... 
 
 Item howe mankynde entereth into a kyngdome namyd 
 the londe of July and parte of the marterdome of seynt 
 Thomas of cauntorbury. Ca. ... 
 
 Item a parable of auctorytie ot the hooly order of seynt 
 Benet. Ca. 
 
 Item how mankynde enterytk the empyre of august and 
 of the aboundaunte welth that there is. Ca. 
 
 Item howe mankynde enteryth and goeth thorowe the 
 dukedom e of September. Ca. ... 
 
 Item howe mankynde enteryth into the londe of October 
 
 at the age of a C. yere. Ca. xv ;j 
 
 Item how mankynde enteryth the barury of Nouembre. Ca. xviij 
 Item howe mankynde enteryth the lordshyp of Decem¬ 
 ber. Ca. 
 
 Item howe mankynde goth thorowe the londe of January 
 and of the strastye that coste. Ca. 
 
 Item howe mankynde enteryth the londe of February. Ca. 
 
 Item howe man procedyth his pylgrymage in and thorowe 
 
 the londe of Marche. Ca. 
 
 Item howe Batayle was mayntaynd bytwene sol Justice 
 and pluto duke o tenebris. Ca. .... 
 
 Item howe vyse toke the fowarde on his party, and howe 
 
 sol Justicie fled. Ca. 
 
 Item howe sol justicie turned agayne and dyscumfyte vyce 
 and wanne the feld. Ca. 
 
 • • • • 
 
 Item the conclucyon of this boke. Ca. 
 
 Here endeth the table. 
 
 
 xiij 
 
 XI) Ij 
 
 xv 
 
 xvj 
 
 xix 
 
 XT 
 
 xx i 
 
 XXlj 
 
 XXI lj 
 
 xxmj 
 
 XXV 
 
 xxvi 
 
 * We hym folowynge a full good spede. 
 Shortly anone the skrymysche begaune. 
 And so sure for matter in dede. 
 
 vouredto trace its prototype in earlier works, it was a perfectly 
 spontaneous and original effort of the genius of its unlettered 
 author.’ See Annals of Parisian Typography, p. 245. 
 
 
 
S8 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Uyce with his felysshyp faste laycd on 
 That voce rnea was agast soonc. 
 
 Thenne oure capteyne Sol iusti.de. 
 
 With In nianus tuas away dyd flye. 
 
 In to a darke vale that was nygli by. 
 
 But yet at the desyre and specyall request. 
 
 Of a gracyouse man callyd domine exaudi. 
 
 He came agayne and shortly in haste. 
 
 To ayde us there came one hyeng faste. 
 
 Whiche is callyd with all and some. 
 
 Benedictus qui venit ad prelium.’ 
 
 So he sets out with Beatus vir for a guide, and enters the 
 land of June—a royal land, full of pleasmes and fruits, of 
 which he eat plenteously in every lane; then came to a place 
 held by the ‘ Pope of June,’ where was the cleanest castell in 
 Xtendom, called, ‘ castell of corpus xti:’— 
 
 ‘ Of whiche indulgence by auctorytye 
 The founder is called by naturall sext 
 Of the romaynes romanus pontifex,’ 
 
 where man could be healed from worldly wretchedness and 
 sinful sore. 
 
 His guide then led him to dominus illuminatio for a safe- 
 conduct in all the lands they should visit:— 
 
 4 So for to purchas a parfyte wryte. 
 
 To soule justicie we toke our way. 
 
 Sealed to haue oure saffe condyte. 
 
 And he shortly sayde not nay. 
 
 But also haue us of his lyuery. 
 
 A fencyble garment Joyntly compyled. 
 
 With layth and hope that we exiled.’ 
 
 They then come to a monastery, &c. 
 
 Emprynted at London by me Richard Faques, 
 dwellyng in Poulys cliurclie yerde at the sygne of 
 the Maydynhed. 
 
 The informacym for pylgrymes unto the holy lande, 
 That is to wyt to Rome, to Jherusalem and to 
 Many Other Holy Places. Imprinted by Wyn- 
 kin de Worde. 1524. 1 
 
 This rare volume is a hand-book for pilgrims; gives the 
 routes, coin, conveyances, fees, and other instructions to those 
 who were going on any distant pilgrimage. It also contains 
 the narrative of a pilgrim in his journey to the Holy Land. 
 Sixty-six pilgrims sailed from Venice in one ship; they visit 
 Jerusalem and other places in the Holy Land. He gives the 
 pronunciation of useful words to enable future visitors to ask 
 for bread, wine, &c. It is a very rare tract, but there is 
 nothing allegorical about the narrative, which is simply of the 
 facts as they took place. 
 
 The next allegorical -work in chronological order, 
 representing life as a pilgrimage, is 
 
 The Histone of Graunde Anioure and la hell Pucel; 
 called the Pastime of Pleasure, containing the 
 Knowledge of the Seven Sciences, and the Course 
 of Man s Life in this Worlde. Invented by 
 Stephen Hawes, Grome of King Henry the 
 
 Seuenth his Chamber. Printed by John Way- 
 lande, 1554. Small 4to. 
 
 Such is the rarity of this volume, that, although 
 it wants six leaves, it bears this inscription on the 
 fly-leaf, ‘ I bought this Volume at Mr. Bindley’s 
 sale, January 21st, 1813, for the inordinate sum 
 of forty guineas. James Boswell’ (Author of the 
 Life of Dr. Johnson ). 
 
 Mr. Hallam, in his Literature of Europe, gives 
 a good account of this poem:—‘ From the title we 
 might hardly expect a learned allegory, in which 
 the seven sciences of the trivium and quadrivium, 
 besides a host of abstract virtues and qualities, 
 play their parts in living personality. It is rude, 
 obscure, full of pedantic Latinisms, but learned and 
 philosophical. The best, though probably an un¬ 
 expected, parallel for Hawes, is John Bunyan ; 
 their inventions are of the same class, various and 
 novel; their characters, though abstract in name, 
 have a personal truth about them ; they render 
 the general allegory subservient to inculcating a 
 system, the one of philosophy, the other of religion. 
 
 I do not mean that the Pastime of Pleasure is equal 
 in merit, as it certainly has not been in success, 
 to the “Pilgrim’s Progress.” Bunyan is powerful 
 and picturesque, from his concise simplicity; Hawes 
 has thecommon failings of our old writers—a tedious 
 and languid diffuseness, an expatiating on themes 
 of pedantry in which the reader takes no interest, 
 a weakening of every feature and every reflection, 
 by ignorance of the touches that give effect. Hawes 
 was educated at Oxford, and travelled much on 
 the Continent, and held an office in the Court of 
 Henry VII. He was the earliest of our learned and 
 accomplished gentlemen.’ 
 
 Hawes’s work was the result of a learned educa¬ 
 tion, great connections, an extensive knowledge of 
 the world, and singular ability; still Mr. Hallam 
 justly admits that the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ is 
 greatly superior as a work of genius, although 
 Bunyan was not blessed even with the rudiments 
 of education, no literary connections, and his travels 
 extended not beyond his neighbouring villages. 
 How extensive and prolific must have been the 
 natural powers of Bunyan’s mind! But compare 
 the moral tendency of those two allegories: Hawes s 
 inspiration is from beneath, strongly tinged with 
 I the smoke of the infernal pit; Bunyan is inspired 
 by heaven, his whole course is illuminated from 
 the celestial city. His pilgrims breathe a heavenly 
 atmosphere ; every line of his narrative has a holy, 
 and, consequently, a happy tendency. Hawes 
 derived his knowledge from worldly philosophers, 
 Bunyan from the Bible. 
 
 The Pastime of Pleasure is a narrative of the adventures 
 of a love-sick knight, in search of a lady named La Bell Pucel. 
 He is directed to the Tower of Doctrine, where he is told that 
 
 1 Retrospective Review, vol. ii. p. 327. 
 
he must become proficient in Ihe seven liberal sciences, in order 
 to win his lady. 
 
 ^ alking in a gay meadow, lie finds a statue, whose hands 
 point to two paths, one of contemplative life:— 
 
 * And in the other hande, rvght fayre wrytten was 
 This is the waye, of worldly dignitye 
 Of the actiue lyfe, who wyll in it passe 
 Into the tower, of fayre dame beautye 
 lame shall tell him, of the way in certaiutye 
 Unto la bell pucell, the fayre lady excellent 
 Aboue all other, in cleare beauty splendent.’ 
 
 Tn pursuit of this beautiful virgin he chooses the path of 
 active life, and sets out:— 
 
 ‘ Thus all alone, I began to trauayle 
 Forthe on my waye, by long continuaunce 
 But often times, I had great maruayle 
 Of the by pathes, so full of pleasaunce 
 Whiche for to take, I had great doubtance 
 But euermore, as nere as I myght 
 I toke the waye, whiche went before me right.’ 
 
 On his journey he falls asleep, and is awaked by the sound 
 of a horn. A lovely lady, on horseback, rides swiftly up to 
 him, accompanied by two greyhounds, with their names set in 
 diamonds upon their collars—Grace and Govemaunce. The 
 lady proves to be Fame; she presents to him the two grey¬ 
 hounds, praises La Bell Pucell, and instructs him how to attaiu 
 her in the Tower of Music, and she informs him that he will 
 have great labour, and must pass through hard adventures 
 belore he will attain his object:— 
 
 ‘For by the waye, there lye in waite 
 Gyantes great, disfigured of nature. 
 
 That all deuoureth, by their euil conceite 
 Against whose strength, there may no man endure 
 They are so huge, and strong out of measure 
 With many serpentes, foule and odious 
 In sundry likenesse, blacke and tedious 
 
 But beyond them, a great sea there is 
 Beyoude whiche sea, there is a goodly land 
 Most full of finite, replete with ioye and bliss 
 Of right fine golde, appeareth all the sande 
 In this faire realme, where the tower doth stand 
 Made all of golde, enameled about 
 With noble stories, whiche do appeare without.’ 
 
 He at length arrives at the castle, when the portresse thus 
 questions him:— 
 
 * Tyll that I came to a royall gate 
 W here I sawe standyng the goodly portres 
 Whiche axed me, from whence I came alate 
 To whom I gan, in euerv thing expresse 
 All myne aduenture, chaunce and busines 
 And eke my name, I tolde her euery dell 
 When she hearde thys, she liked me lyght well.’ 
 
 The portress, whose name was Countenaunce, introduced 
 him into the castle, and in the Fair Hall, upon the arras, is 
 portrayed the perils he will have to encounter; that Folly will 
 beset his path, but that Correction will follow 
 
 * And in her hande, a strong knotted whippe 
 At every iarte she made him for to skippe.’ 
 
 He finds that he will have to destroy a giant with three 
 heads, another more fierce with four heads, and a third still 
 more terrible with seven heads, and at length he will win and 
 
 The principal officers in the castle are 
 
 * The marshall, yelipped was dame Reason 
 And the yeures, also observaunce 
 The panter Pleasaunce, at euery season 
 The good Butler, curteys continuaunce 
 And the chiefe coke, was called temperaunce 
 The lady chamberlayne, named fidelitye 
 A nd the hye stewarde, Libcralitye.’ 
 
 He # is then sent in succession to Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, 
 aud at length to Music. In the Temple of Music, he sees and 
 falls deeply in love with La Bell Pucell. She returns his love, 
 but informs him that he will have to brave many desperate 
 adventures before they can be united. He promises to fit 
 himself for all that may happen, and goes to Chivalry—he is 
 taught by Minerva—harnessed and knighted:— 
 
 ‘ For first good hope, his legge harneys should be 
 His habergion, of perfect righteousnes 
 Gyrde fast, wyth the girdle of chastitie 
 His rich placarde, 1 should be good busines 
 Brodered with almes, so full of larges 2 
 The helmet mekenes, and the shelde good fayeth. 
 
 His swerde Gods worde, as S. Paule sayeth.’ 
 
 Fortitude, Consuetude, 3 Justice, Misericorde, Sapience, Cur- 
 tesye, Concord, and- dame Minerva see him on his road, and 
 bid him farewell. Iiis first adventure is with a Kentish man, 
 Godfrey Gobilion, who gives an account of his parentage in 
 these lines:— 
 
 * Ich am a gentilman, of much noble kynne 
 r l hough Iche be cladde, in a knaues skynne 
 
 For there was one, called Peter Pratefast 
 That in all his life, spake no worde in waste 
 He weddid a wife, that was called Maude 
 I trow quod T, she was a gorgious boude 
 Thou liest, quod he, she was gentle and good 
 She gaue her husbande, many a furde hode 
 
 And at his meales, without any misse 
 She would him serue, in clenly wise iwys 
 God loue her soule, as she Icued clenlines 
 And kept her dishes, from all foulenes 
 ■When she lacked clowtes, without any fayle 
 She wyped her dishes, with her dogges tayle.’ 
 
 The conversation that ensues between these worthies, on the 
 misfortunes of lovers, exceeds for gross indelicacy the tales of 
 Chaucer. Grand Amour continues his journey, and becomes 
 a regular Jack the Giant-killer. His first adventure was with 
 a monster twelve feet high, with three heads. These he decap¬ 
 itated; and is then attacked by a second and more formidable 
 giant, fifteen feet high, wfith seven heads, named, Dissimula¬ 
 tion, Delay, Discomfort, Variauuce, Envy, Detraction, and 
 Doubleness; all these he cuts off, and is then received and 
 entertained by seven fine ladies. His next fierce encounter is 
 with demons. Pallas instructs him how to fight with them. 
 He attacks and slays the great dragon—wins La Bell Pucell, 
 and is married to her, and enjoys great happiness, until he is 
 quietly removed by death to purgatory, where, having been 
 purified, he goes to heaven. 
 
 1 ‘ Placarde;’ a stomacher or breastplate, frequently orna¬ 
 mented with jewels. 
 
 2 ‘ Larges;’ a bounty bestowed, a large gift.— Imp. Diet. 
 
 3 ‘ Consuetude;’ custom, common law or equity, as dis¬ 
 tinguished from statute law or justice. 
 
 INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 wed La Bell Pucell. 
 thus named:— 
 
 1 
 
 
38 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 In vain have I endeavoured to discover the 
 intention of the author in this allegory. His 
 editor says, that it was to stimulate young men 
 to study the seven liberal sciences! Its natural 
 effect would be to stimulate them to licentiousness. 
 These were the class of books given to the people 
 by the church, in preference to the Bible. 
 
 We now come to a very rare pilgrimage, written 
 in Italian, and entitled Libro del Peregrino, by 
 J. Cauice, dedicated to Lucresse Borgie. 
 
 The edition in my library is ( El nouamente stam- 
 pato et hystoricito, small 8vo,with woodcuts, Venice, 
 1524.’ I have also a translation into French, 
 by T. Dassy, Secretary of State to the King of 
 K avarre ; it is called Le Peregrin: traictant de 
 L'honneste et pudique amour, par pure et sincere 
 Vertu. It is elegantly printed in black letter, with 
 woodcuts, small 4to, Lyons, 1528, and from it 
 the following analysis was made:— 
 
 The pilgrim, a native of Perrara, at the age of twenty-two 
 years on May-day, attended to hear a Dominican Friar preach. 
 Divine love lay in ambush, and the eloquence of the preacher 
 pierced his heart. He passed a restless night —speaks in silence, 
 and at length cries out, 0 life more miserable than death! his 
 thoughts wound him and he is wretched. Under the character 
 of a lady named Geneure, the daughter of Angiolo (the Virgin 
 Mary, queen of angels), to that time unknown to him, is per¬ 
 sonated that which alone can cure his wounded spirit. This 
 lady is very wise and modest, young, hut ancient in prudence, 
 and very difficult to obtain. He becomes very desirous of 
 obtaining her, and his pilgrimage is made with this object. 
 Through the aid of Geneure’s nurse, Violante, he corresponded 
 with her, and sought an interview. He is directed to a sub¬ 
 terraneous passage, by which he hopes secretly to reach her 
 house in the night; but mistakes the chamber, and enters that 
 of another young lady, named Lyonore (the lioness), the 
 daughter of Petruccio (the thirty), and mistook her for 
 Geneure. This sad adventure with Lyonore involves him in 
 great trouble. It came to the knowledge of Geneure, and she 
 weeps for her pilgrim’s treason; but is comforted by her 
 mother (the blessed Virgin), who tells her that it is natural to 
 man to go astray. Geneure threatens to enter a nunnery, and 
 submits to her mother that the vows of obedience and poverty 
 are of sovereign virtue. The pilgrim, before Geneure entered 
 upon her noviciate, met her accidentally at church, and pro¬ 
 poses marriage, his faults are forgiven, they become united, 
 and pass their time in great happiness, until death separated 
 them. 
 
 If Bunyan liad been able to have read this 
 quaint old Italian or French story, he would never 
 have devoted his valuable time to such a mass 
 of rubbish; and if he had, not the slightest idea 
 could have suggested itself to have assisted him 
 in composing the adventures of his Pilgrim. In 
 fact, he dared not to have spent an hour over a 
 book, which, under the title of The Pilgrim, con¬ 
 tains all the looseness of an Italian love-story. 
 
 This book was for some time very popular. I 
 have two Venice editions, in 8vo, printed in italics, 
 
 1524 and 1527. I have seen also a similar edition 
 not dated, and one of 1538. There is also a very 
 handsome one of the French translation, printed 
 by Gallist, Du Pres, Paris, 1528, and another in 
 1540. Niceron thus accounts for its popularity, 
 
 ‘ Ce livre faisait en France, au commencement du 
 regne de Frangois I., les delices de la jeunesse, et 
 donnait lieu aux predicateurs d’on blamer forte- 
 ment la lecture comme dangereuse.’ 1 
 
 It is a matter of great regret that those who 
 write and publish for the millions, too frequently 
 circulate opinions and supposed facts without per¬ 
 sonal investigation. Mr. Chambers, the popular 
 publisher at Edinburgh, whose works find readers 
 as far as the English language is known, has 
 joined those who appear to detract from Bunyan, 
 by charging him with plagiarism. 
 
 In bis 'Encyclopedia of Literature,' 2, speaking of Gawin 
 Douglas, the Bishop of Dunkeld, a celebrated Scottish poet, 
 he observes, ‘ The principal original composition of Douglas 
 is a long poem, entitled, The Palace of Honour. It was 
 designed as an epilogue for the conduct of a king, and there¬ 
 fore addressed to James IV. The poet represents himself as 
 seeing, in a vision, a large company travelling towards the 
 Palace of Honour. He joins them, and narrates the particulars 
 of the pilgrimage. The well-known “ Pilgrim’s Progress” bears 
 so strong a resemblance to this poem, that Bunyan could 
 scarcely have been ignorant of it.’ 
 
 j / 
 
 With some trouble I found a copy of this very 
 rare tract by Douglas. It is a short poem, but 
 being in the ancient Scottish dialect, it is quite 
 long enough to weary an Englishman’s patience. 
 Had it been Douglas’s long poem, a translation of 
 Virgil, it would have defied any attempt of mine 
 to read it; but, by the aid of a good modern glos¬ 
 sary, I read it through, and, to my extreme sur¬ 
 prise, found that it has not, either in the plot or 
 detail, the slightest similarity whatever to the 
 ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ and that it is written in 
 terms that a poor unlettered minister could not 
 have understood. 
 
 The principal character in the story is represented as being 
 in a desert, when, hearing the noise of an approaching caval¬ 
 cade, he gets into a stock [a hollow tree], and sees them pass. 
 He then follows them to the Palace of Honour, and gives a 
 description of what took place. Had Bunyan seen and read 
 the following stanza, and understood it, how indignant would 
 he have felt at the author’s notion of baptismal regeneration:— 
 
 * Ze bene all borne the sonnis of Ire I ges 
 Sine throw Baptismc gettis grace and faithfulnes. 
 
 Than in zone Carwell surelie ze rcmane, 
 
 Oft stormested with this warldis brukilnes 
 Ouhill that ze fall in sin and wretchitness 
 Than schip brokin sail ze drown in endles pane 
 Except be faith ze find the plank agane 
 Be Christ, wirking gude warlds I vnderstund 
 Remaine thairwith, thir sail zow bring to land.’ 3 
 
 1 Hist, des Hommes illustrcs, 44 tom. Paris, 1725. 
 
 2 Vol. i. p. 44. 3 Ibid. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 39 
 
 Surely Mr. Chambers could not have imagined that the 
 representation of a large party going up a hill of polished 
 marble, and on the summit seeing the infernal regions as nar¬ 
 rated in the following verses, could have aided Bunyau in his 
 solemn account of the Christian’s feeling in the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death:— 
 
 ‘ As we approchit neir the hilles heid 
 Ane tcrribill sewch biruand in flammis reid 
 Abhominabill, and how as hell to sc 
 All lull of brintstane, Pick and bulling Lcid, 
 
 Guhair mony wretchit creature lay deid. 
 
 And miserabill catiues zeUand loude on hie 
 I saw, quhilk den micht weill compairit be 
 Till Xanthus the llude of Troy sa schill 
 Birnand at Venus best contrair Achill. 
 
 Amid our passage lay this viglie sicht 
 Nocht braid bot sa horribill to euerie wicht 
 That all the warld to pas it suld haue dreid. 
 
 « V eill I considderit na vppermair I micht 
 And to discend sa hiddeous was the hicht 
 I durst not auenture for this eird on dreid. 
 
 Trimbland I stude wt teitli chatterand glide speid 
 My Nymphe beheld my cheir and said let be 
 Thow sail nocht aill, and lo the caus (quod sche) 
 
 To me thou art commit, &c.’ 
 
 There may be as much poetic beauty in these lines as there 
 is melody in the drone of the bagpipe, but there is not the 
 slightest similarity, nor even any idea in the whole poem, that 
 could by possibility have aided the author of the ‘ Pilgrim’s 
 Progress.’ 
 
 The Pryke of Conscience . 1 
 
 A very curious old English poem; it is theological and 
 descriptive, but not allegorical. 
 
 lhe Myrrour of Lyfe, by William of Nassyngton, 
 
 1418. 2 
 
 An ancient English poetical treatise on religion; excepting 
 the title, it has no pretence to allegory. 
 
 Castellum Amoris. Le Chateau D'Amour, by 
 Robert Grosteste. 
 
 A fine copy of this curious poem, in Norman French, is in 
 the British Museum. 3 It narrates the creation and fall of 
 man; the four daughters of God, Mercy, Truth, Patience, and 
 Peace, unite to devise the means of man’s restoration. The 
 divisions are—I. The Prophets predict. II. The Saviour is 
 bom in the great Palace of Love. HI. The Palace is described 
 w ith its keepers. IV. Satan attempts to overcome the keepers. 
 
 It is a very curious poem, and is called at the end, Scala Ccell 
 I venture to give a specimen of this singular composition, and 
 have selected the following, because it treats upon the subject 
 of baptismal regeueration, which at present occupies so much 
 of the public attention. The author was evidently of that 
 party who pretend to believe that the God of love will send a 
 poor babe to everlasting misery, if its parents neglect or 
 refuse to have it christened!! As the French is old and 
 contracted, a translation is added:— 
 
 0 baptize treslour fussent ‘ They were then baptized 
 Et nomi Deu pater et In the names of God the Father 
 
 1)60 A 2 * and of the Son 
 
 ] Brit. Mus. Bib. Egert. 846. B. 
 
 2 Brit. Mus. Eg. 657. 
 
 3 Brit. Mus. Roy. Lib. 17, c. viii. 
 
 Et du saynt espiritz 
 Kar qi baptize ne serra 
 Ca en cel ne eutera 
 Mes ci crcaut cy baptize 
 Serront mys a sauuete.’ 
 
 And of the Holy Ghost 
 For whoever is not baptized 
 lie in heaven shall not enter 
 But those created in this baptism 
 Shall be put into salvation.’ 
 
 Scala Perfeccionis Englyshed. The Ladder of Per- 
 feccwn , written by Walter Hilton, about 1380. 
 
 This was one of the most popular of the monkish 
 writings, and so much esteemed in the reign of 
 James II., as to have been published by the court 
 to promote the influence of popery in these realms; 
 it was then very much altered, and not improved. 
 
 The only allegory in it is the Ladder, placed upon the earth 
 to ascend by steps to heaven. It was intended for monks and 
 nuns, to guide them in devotional exercises, so that their affec¬ 
 tions might be gradually raised from earthly things. It is the 
 most scriptural of all the monkish manuscripts, but the evan¬ 
 gelical truths are omitted in the more modern printed editions. 
 Thus he says, if we were only infected by original sin, and had 
 escaped the pollution of actual transgression, we must have per¬ 
 ished but for the sufferings of Christ. 4 To speak for thy profit 
 and my own, e say I thus that thou neuer so moche a wreche, 
 hadest thou done neuer so moche syn, for sake thi self and al 
 thi w r erkes gode and bad, cry mercy and aske oneli saluacion be 
 vertue of the precious passion mekeli and trusteli and with 
 outyen doute thou schalt haue it, and fro this original syn and 
 al other that thou have doue thou sal be saf.’ 4 Dr. Dibdin 
 considers this a wild and dangerous exposition of the consoling 
 doctrines of the Christian religion made by an enthusiastic 
 writer! 5 Hilton gives a faithful warning against placing 
 dependence upon happy feelings, unless they arise from a living 
 faith. ‘ I had rather feel, and have a stedfast desire and a pure 
 spiritual union with my Lord Jesus, though I cannot see him 
 with my ghostly eye, than to have without this desire the 
 fruit of all the bodily penance of ail living men, or all the 
 visions and revelations of angels’ songs and sounds.’ ‘ Jesus 
 leadeth the soul into itself. The secret voice of Jesus is fully 
 true, “ My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they 
 know me.” There is no feigning in it, nor fantasy, nor pride, 
 nor hypocrisy; but softness, meekness, peace, love, and charity. 
 And it is full of life, love, and grace; and, therefore, when it 
 soundeth in the soul, it is sometime of so great might, that the 
 soul suddenly layeth off hand all that there is, praying, speak¬ 
 ing, reading, or thinking, and all manner of bodily work, and 
 listeneth thereto, fully hearing and perceiving, in rest and in 
 love, the sweet steuen 6 of this spiritual voice, as it were rav¬ 
 ished from the mind of all earthly things. Sometimes Jesus 
 showeth himself as a master, sometimes as a father, and some¬ 
 times as a lovely spouse ; and it keepeth the soul in a wonder¬ 
 ing reverence, and a lovely beholding of him, that the soul 
 liketh never so well as then.’ 7 
 
 It is delightful to meet with such beams of the 
 Sun of righteousness in a dark age, like the day¬ 
 spring from on high, breaking through a dismal 
 night with its cheering rays. 8 
 
 4 Copied from a fine and perfect MS. in the Editor’s lib¬ 
 rary, chap. xliv. 
 
 0 Typographical Antiquities , vol. ii. p. 37. 
 
 3 Melody, from ‘ streuen,’ or strain. 
 
 7 Cap. xliv. part 2. 
 
 8 It is very surprising that so little appears to be known of 
 this good man; he was a Carthusian monk of Sion, or Shene, 
 uud author of about twelve different works. 
 
40 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 The Pilgrimage of Perfection; supposed to be writ¬ 
 ten by William Bond. 4to, printed by Pynson, 
 1526. 
 
 A fine copy of this rare book is in the extensive 
 and valuable library of my kind friend, tlie Rev. 
 J. H. M. Luxmoore, rector of Marcweil, near Wrex¬ 
 ham, by whose permission the following analysis 
 was made:— 
 
 This work is more particularly intended for the monastic 
 orders, to promote what, in those days, were called pious feel¬ 
 ings ; by which it was intended to treat the gifts of providence, 
 the comforts, and even necessaries of life, with contempt; to 
 abstain from reasonable enjoyments; to retire into solitudes 
 where no relative duties could be performed; lacerating the 
 body; submitting the soul, with blind obedience, to the will 
 of men; a looking forward with dread to the futiu e; con¬ 
 templating the God of love, not as the forgiver, but as the 
 avenger of sin; and to which may be added, that climax of 
 pride, fanaticism, and folly, in which Jews, Mahometans, and 
 all antichrist glory—that there is no salvation out of the pale 
 of their own sect. 
 
 The volume commences with the tree of grace and the tree 
 of vice; under the branch of avarice, a nun is told to Note 
 pt a pin or a nctiell kept contrarp to pe commaunbement 
 of ttjeir soucvaine tt is bampnablc. 
 
 It is divided into two parts: first, * sheweth howe the lyfe 
 of euery cristian is as a pilgremage: second, the ioumey of 
 religion—man is never contented in the cage of this world; 
 wherfore it appereth that ther is an hyer cage and another 
 place for his full contentation.’— 11 As the iewes spoyled Egipt 
 of their richesse, so the Christians have spoyled both iewes and 
 philosophers of the noble veritees of philosophy;’ 
 
 ‘ Jn heuen euery man and woman shalbe as an emperour and 
 empresse.’ 
 
 The journey begius with the sacrament of baptism, pro¬ 
 fessing by it to be pilgrims; openly forsaking the devil, 
 pomps, mortal sins, honours, riches, and pleasures; for daily 
 sustenance, is given the blessed body of our Lord in the sacra¬ 
 ment, by which these pilgrims are raised above nature to 
 immortal glory. Jn. vi. 53 is thus translated: Except ye 
 eat the flesh of the son of the virgin, and drink his blood, ye 
 cannot have life in you;’ but it is silent as to the cup being 
 denied to the laity. 1 Pe. ii. 2, 8, is thus translated:—‘ As 
 infants and young children: whom our mother, holy church, 
 hath brought forth, by the regeneration of baptism in the faith 
 of Christ Jesus.’ 
 
 Then follow very extensive instructions to the pilgrims, 
 without any attempt at allegory. Many portions of Scripture 
 are given, but they are strangely translated. The Lord’s 
 prayer:—‘ 0 father in heuen delyuer vs fro all euyll of peyne 
 and synne. Sufire vs nat to be ouerthrowen in temptacion. 
 Forgyue vs our offences as we forgyue them that hath offended 
 vs. Gyue vs our dayly sustenaunce and necessaryes. Thy 
 wyll be fulfilled in erthe, as it is in heuen. Thy kyngdome 
 come to vs. Thy holy name be santifyed.’ 1 Co. iii. 13 :— 
 ‘ But yet (as saynt Poule sayth) the fyer of purgatory must 
 proue his workes.’ When suffering pain from fasting, he 
 adviseth that such pain be allayed by using these words: 
 
 ‘ Ah, caryon carion and wormes meate: what vauntage slialte 
 thou haue, ever to stuffe and fyll the greedy gutte of thy bely 
 with delicate meetes and driukes which damn the soule.’ 
 Praying to our blessed Lady and to the saints is ordered, 
 because Job was commanded to * call to some of the sayntes 
 of heuen, and they wil ansivcre,’ Job v. 1. In the ten com¬ 
 
 mandments, the second is omitted, and the tenth is divided 
 into two, to make up the number. The Virgin Mary can 
 obtain blessings for us, because ‘ The mother of God, sheweth 
 to her son her pappes and brestes, with the which she gaue 
 hym sucke!! therefore make supplication to her, to have mercy 
 on this present churche militant, releue, socoure, and helpe 
 it.’ The heavenly anthem is translated:—‘ Glory be to god 
 in heuyn, and peace in erthe to man or woman, that hathe a 
 good wyll,’ Lu. ii. 11. The pilgrimage is divided into seven 
 days, and on the seventh the sold approaches to pcrlection; 
 and here the feelings or experience of the pilgrims strongly 
 remind us of some modern sects, such as the Irvingites 
 ‘ Some in this vnwont ioye haue been compelled to syng, some 
 to wepe, some coude nothinge speke; but Jesu, Jesu, Jesu. 
 Some coude nat save so moche, but onely expr esse sucke 
 voyces , that be nat in use to siynifye any thyny: one Mas- 
 seus in such ioye coude speke nothing but v v v.’ With the 
 Quakers, ‘ Some other in such jubile, trymbled or quaked in 
 nil the ioyntes of their bodyes.’ Like the Ranters, ‘ Some 
 were constrayned to leape and daunce for ioye, and some to 
 clappe their handes.’ Some have arrived at so high a state 
 of mortification, that if asked ‘ whether they coude be con¬ 
 tented, for the love and pleasure of god, and to fulfyll his wyll, 
 to lye for eucrmore in the paynes of hell, without remedy, 
 they wolde answere: ye with all their hertes.’ In such a 
 state was St. Bernard, who was ravished before the cross when 
 the body ‘ losed itselfc from the crosse, and halsed 1 and kyssed 
 hym most swetely;’ the holy Brigit was lifted up in the aire, 
 and her face was made to shyne brighter than the sonne !!! 
 
 The reader need not he told that Bunyan could 
 have had no help from this impure source. 
 
 The Pype, or Tonne of the lyfe of 'perfection. 4to, 
 
 1532. 
 
 This is an allegorical work for the instruction of nuns, 
 written by the old wretch of Sion; 2 and although it is not 
 a pilgrimage or a dream, it is a guide to iemale pilgrims. 
 Under the idea of wine being kept in a pipe or tun, is repre¬ 
 sented:—!. The life of perfection, as the wine ; 2. Religion, 
 the pipe; 3. Essential vows, obedience, wilful poverty, and 
 chastity, the staves; 4. Holy rules, the hoops; 5. Ceremonies, 
 the wickers, bv which the hoops are made last. If these 
 wickers fail, the hoops open, the cask falls to pieces, and the 
 wine is lost; all depends upon the ceremonies. This curious 
 book was published to prevent the spread of heresy ‘ by newe 
 fangle persones,’ aided by the New Testament, which had then 
 been about six years in circulation in England; for ‘ Luther, 
 with all his discyples, depraue all mailer of religyons, except 
 onely (as they call hit) the religyon of Christe. W herefore I 
 thought it necessary to answer the perilous poison of such 
 blaterers.’ The work is divided into three parts: ‘ Of Obedi¬ 
 ence,’ ‘ Wylfull Pouertie,’ and ‘ Chastite;’ being the three 
 great vows made by the nuns to whom it is addressed. 1. Of 
 Obedience. Without implicit obedience, theie is not the 
 slightest hope of salvation. This related, not only to the 
 obedience due by nuns to the pope, the priest, and the abbess, 
 but also to the obedience due by a wife to her husband. If 
 married ladies acted in the same spirit then as they do now, 
 might not the sorrowful inquiry have been made, c Lord, are 
 there [even a] few that be saved ?’ ‘ Kyngcs as sone as they 
 
 -were conuerted and baptized, left their dyademes and were 
 
 1 ‘ Halsed;’ bowed the head, embraced, saluted. 
 
 2 Richard Whytforde, a monk in the monastery of Syon, 
 near Richmond, on the banks of the Thames. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 41 
 
 subjects unto the clergie, and under theyr obedience;’ a pecu¬ 
 liar kind of antinomianism reigned in the church; «I sav, 
 that no tcmporall lawe maye bynde any spirituall persone. 
 This have we said vnto Tyndale that arche heretike.’ Some 
 oi the rules and examples show that nuns were sad women, 
 who could ‘ braule and chide; eat and drynke to excess 
 ‘ they be in right great jeoperty of nawfrage 1 and wraclce of 
 chastite.’ Obedience in ecclesiastical payments is enforced by 
 a very odd translation of Nu. xviii. 22:—‘Those personcs 
 that wolde nat be obedient duely to pay theyr tythes, were 
 judged by our Lord vnto dethand whether God, or the 
 Hear of God, gave any manner of commandment, it is all one, 
 and by like reverence to be performed; ‘ our lorde god, in 
 maner makyng the prelates and souereynes equall with hvm- 
 selfe.’ The extent of obedience is thus illustrated:—‘that 
 man that in obedience to his souercync dyd caste his owne 
 < hyldc quicke into a hole fiamynge ouen has nowlaude, prayse, 
 thanke, and grace, because he was obedient as he would have 
 had indignation of god and vengeaunce if he had not obeyed.’ 
 2. Of \\ ylfull Pouertie. This vow was so strict that no monk 
 or nun was to consider their clothes their own, but the property 
 of the establishment; and, to terrify the poor votaries, a story 
 is told, fol. cc., of a monk that did appear after his death to 
 one of his companions, showing that he was in marvellous great 
 pains, ‘for bycause he gaue a payre of olde showes vnto a pore 
 body without leaue.’ All the efforts and threats to prevent 
 the monks from getting money was in vain; and our unhappy 
 author laments that there are few monasteries in England but 
 where the monks lend and borrow; play for money at ah 
 manner of games; dice, cards, bowls, and sometimes at worse 
 or more inconvenient things; while the nuns enjoy their gains, 
 make good cheer, sing and laugh, play and sport, and be as 
 merry as lay people. We close our account of this singular 
 volume by extracting a curious version of Ps. cxxxvii. 9 : — 
 ‘Blessed be that person that doth hold and restrain his chil¬ 
 dren, and that doth thrust and crush their head uuto the 
 stone, that is unto Christ and his passion and death.’ 
 
 No one can for a moment suppose that Bunyan 
 could have gained a hint from this volume. 
 
 Viasjgio Spirituals, nel quale, facendosi passaggio 
 da questa vita mortale, si ascende alia celeste. 
 Bel R. P. Cornelio Bellanda, di Verona, 4to, 
 with the iUdine mark. Venetia, 1578. 
 
 This spiritual pilgrimage, from mortal life to the celestial, 
 has nothing in it allegorical, but in ten chapters treats of 
 penance, confession, the judgment, heavenly blessedness, &c. 
 
 It is a very rare volume, elegantly printed by Aldus, jun. 2 
 
 The Vision of Pierce Plowman. 
 
 cent Tower of Truth, viewed at a distance, and by 
 its side the dungeon of Care, Natural Understand¬ 
 ing, and his lean and stern wife Study, and all the 
 rest of this numerous company, and the shadowy 
 pilgrimage of the “Immortal Dreamer” to the 
 “ Celestial City.” Yet I would mistrust my own 
 feeling, when so many able critics, in their various 
 i cseai chcs after a prototype of that singular pro¬ 
 duction, have hitherto not suggested what seems 
 to me obvious.’ Such a notice by so popular a 
 writer, led me very closely to examine this severe 
 satire. It is written in language that to Bunyan 
 would have been almost as impenetrable as Hebrew 
 or Greek. It is a very curious poem, composed 
 about the time of Wiclilf, by one of the Lollards, 
 said to be by Robert Langland. In a poetical 
 vision or dream, he exposes and reproves vice, and 
 extols Christian virtue. ‘The printer [R. Crowley, 
 1550] states, that it was written in the time of 
 Edward III., when it pleased God to open the 
 eyes of many to see his truth, giving them bold¬ 
 ness of heart to open their mouths, and cry out 
 against the works of darkness. This writer feigneth 
 himself in dreams most Cliristianly to instruct the 
 weak, and sharply rebuke the obstinate blind, lie 
 godlily, learnedly, and wittily rebuked vice in all 
 classes.’ There is nothing in this very interesting 
 book that could, in the slightest degree, have aided 
 Bunyan, if he had been able to read it. It presents 
 a melancholy picture of the state of the clergy, and 
 of society generally, at that time ; and, according 
 to his account, pilgrims were very sad story-tellers. 
 
 * Pilgrames and Palmers plvght hem togyther 
 For to seke S. James and sayntes at Rome 
 They went forth theyr way, wyth many wyse tales, 
 
 And had leaue to lye all hyr lyfe after.’ 
 
 The hermits appear to have had a still worse propensity— 
 
 ‘ Hermets on a heape wyth hoked staue8 
 Wenten to Walsingham, and her wenches after.’ 
 
 Mr. D’Israeli must have been dreaming when lie 
 imagined the slightest resemblance between Piers 
 Plowman's Vision and the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ 
 either in the plan, or in any of the details of this 
 curious poem. 
 
 ‘ I am inclined to think,’ says Mr. D’Israeli, in 
 Ids Amenities of Literature, * that we owe to Piers 
 Ploughman, an allegorical work of the same wild 
 invention from that other creative mind, the author 
 of “ Pilgrim’s Progress.” How can we think of 
 the one, without being reminded of the other ? 
 Some distant relationship seems to exist between 
 the Ploughman’s DoiveU and Dobet, and Dobest, 
 Friar Flatterer, Grace, the Portress of the masrnifi- 
 
 ! ‘ Naufrage;’ shipwreck. 
 
 t In th ® Editor’s library. See Renonard Annates, de 1 
 pnmarie des Aide, vol. i. p. 397. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales 
 
 Were told on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Thomas-a-Becket; 
 and it is evident that these pretended holy journeys were full 
 of vice and profligacy. 
 
 Erasmus, On the Religious Pilgrimages. 
 
 The very droll colloquy of Erasmus, called the Religious 
 Pilgrimage, is preceded by an account of a shipwreck, when 
 all the passengers and crew are calling each on his patron 
 saint, promising pilgrimages and offerings. Among them— 
 
 ‘ one vowed to St. Christopher, in the great church at Paris, 
 “ as loud as he could bawl,” that he might he sure to be heard, 
 a wax candle, as big as himself, and he was rather a mountain 
 
 b 
 
42 
 
 THE PILGllIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 than a statue: a friend gave him a touch. Have a care what 
 you promise, says he, for if you should sell yourself to your 
 shirt, you are not able to purchase such a candle. Hold 
 your tongue, you fool, says t’other, softly, for fear the saint 
 should hear him; let me set foot a land once, and he has good 
 luck if he get so much as a tallow candle of me!!’ This pil¬ 
 grimage has a long letter from the Virgin Mary, written by 
 one of her secretaries, in droll terms, complaining that it is of 
 no use that hundreds should pray to her at once, for she could 
 only hear one at a time, and had no power to assist her wor¬ 
 shippers. 
 
 No one can suppose that Bunyan gained any 
 hint from such satirical works as these. 
 
 Spenser’s Faery Queen. 
 
 To this work Dr. Adam Clarke considered Bun¬ 
 yan to have been indebted for some ideas in his 
 ‘Pilgrim,’ or ‘Holy War.’ It must require no 
 ordinary degree of penetration to discover that 
 which is, to many, perfectly concealed. 
 
 This is a very long hut elegant allegorical poem, composed 
 of seven legends : 1. Tlie Knight of the Red Cross, or Holi¬ 
 ness. This gallant knight, properly caparisoned and accoutred, 
 rides forth with Truth, represented as a fair lady; his first 
 adventure is with a monstrous dragon called Error, who is 
 slain. They take refuge in the cell of an aged sire, who acted 
 the part of a holy hermit, but proved to be a most unholy 
 enchanter; he calls spirits from the vasty deep, and transforms 
 them into a gallant knight and a beautiful woman. He kindles 
 a flame of jealousy in the breast of the red cross knight, so 
 that he abruptly quits his fair companion, and in his journey 
 meets with a knight called * Sans Toythey fight, and Sans 
 Foy is killed, and a lovely lady, his companion, is taken cap¬ 
 tive ; she proves to be £ Falsehood/ He is taken prisoner by 
 the contrivance of Falsehood, and is thrown into a dungeon in 
 the castle of Giant Orgoglio, where he lies in despair for three 
 months. Truth induces Prince Arthur to attack the Giant, 
 whose body disappears when he is slain after a fearful combat; 
 lie relieves the red cross knight from a cell— 
 
 ‘ Where entred in, his feet could find no floor, 
 
 But all a deep descent, as dark as hell, 
 
 That breathed ever forth a filthy bauefull smell.’ 
 
 lie is then led to a house of holiness, and is taught repentance. 
 Our knight then seeks and fights the old dragon fiend for 
 three successive days, and kills him. He visits the infernal 
 realms; sees what the classic poets have described; meets 
 again with his lady Truth, and his adventures close with their 
 marriage. The next legend is that of Temperance narrating 
 the exploits of Sir Guy on. He attacks and overcomes Furor, 
 Incontinence, and Mammon. He recounts from a friar’s book 
 ‘ a chronicle of Briton’s Kings.’ His startling description of 
 our forefathers is a good specimen of his versification and 
 stanzas:— 
 
 ‘ But far in land a salvage nation dwelt 
 Of hideous giaunts, and halfe-beastly men, 
 
 That never tasted grace, nor goodness felt; 
 
 But wild like beastes lurking in loathsome den, 
 
 And flying fast as roebucke through the fen; 
 
 All naked without shame or care of cold, 
 
 By hunting and by spoiling livedcn ; 
 
 Of stature huge, and eke of corage bold. 
 
 That sonnes of men amazed their stcrness to behold.’ 
 
 Temperance is besieged, but relieved by Prince Arthur. Then 
 follows the legends of Britomartis, or Chastity: all the chapters 
 are headed with poetical contents ; as— 
 
 ‘ The witches sonne loves Florimell, 
 
 She flyes; he faines to dy. 
 
 Satyrene saves the squyre of Dames 
 From Gyauntes tyranny.’ 
 
 The other legends are of friendship, justice, courtesy, con¬ 
 stancy, and mutability. The first legend of Holiness is the 
 only one that bears the slightest resemblance to any part of 
 the £ Pilgrim ’ or £ Holy War/ In this we have a battle with 
 the old dragon fiend, a descent into hell, and being a prisoner 
 in a giant’s castle. It is not at all likely that Bunyan could 
 have found time, even had he the inclination, to have read the 
 Faery Queen. His poetry is from the school of Francis 
 Quarles, and not of Spenser. The knightly hero seeks the old 
 dragon fiend ; the pilgrim is sought by Apollyon. Apostolic 
 injunctions would naturally lead our allegorist Bunyan to por¬ 
 tray the dreadful combat. ‘The devil, as a roaring lion, 
 walketh about, seeking whom he may devour,’ whom resist. 
 Clothed in the armour described in the Epistle to the Ephe¬ 
 sians, and wielding the sword of the Spirit, his final success 
 was certain— £ resist the devil, and he will flee from you/ Such 
 texts, with his own experience of the saint’s conflict with the 
 powers of darkness, naturally suggested the fight with Apollyon, 
 without the aid of any uninspired author. 
 
 All Spenser’s imagery of the Infernal Regions 
 is taken from Ovid, Virgil, and Dante. But the 
 pilgrims’ fears, while passing through the Valley 
 of the Shadow of Death, depict the author’s per¬ 
 sonal feelings, and the experience of David. ‘ The 
 sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of 
 hell gat hold upon me: I found trouble and sorrow. ’ 
 Ps. cxvi. 3. The strong language of Job Cch. xv.), ‘A 
 dreadful sound is in his ears ; he believetk not that 
 he shall return out of darkness; ’ and the emotions 
 of the psalmist, ‘ an horrible pit and the miry clay,’ 
 led to an intensity of feeling , under doubts and 
 fears, which knightly poetry, however elegant, could 
 never have engendered. Spenser was a philoso¬ 
 pher well acquainted with heathen literature, from 
 which his images are drawn. While Bunyan, shut 
 out of the enticing treasures of human learning, 
 possessed in that Inspired Volume, which was his 
 daily solace under severe privations, the most noble 
 model for his allegorical imagery, he neither wanted, 
 nor could he have gained, the slightest hint from 
 Spenser. 
 
 i 
 
 Le Voyage du Chevalier Errant. Par. F. J. de 
 Cartheny. Written about the year 1311. 
 8vo, Anvers, 1557. Published in English 
 under the title of The Voyage of the Wander¬ 
 ing Knight. Showing the whole course of 
 Man’s Life; how apt he is to follow Vanity, 
 and how hard it is for him to attain to Vir¬ 
 tue. Devised by John Cartheny, a Frenchman; 
 and Translated out of French into English 
 by Wfilliam] G[oodyeare] of Southampton, 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 43 
 
 Merchant; a work worthy the reading, and 
 dedicated to Sir. F. Drake, Knt. London, 
 Printed by Tlios. Snodham, 4to. No date, hut 
 about 1611. (See Herbert, p. 1022.) 
 
 The knight determines to seek the palace of true felicity, 
 and first tries riches, pleasure, and honours; but he adds, ‘I 
 was as very a fool in this as he who hoped to catch fish by 
 angling in the air, or hunt the hare with hounds in the open 
 sea.’ Under the guidance of Folly, he obtained from an 
 armorer named Evil-will, a shirt of lasciviousness, a doublet 
 of lewd desires, hosen 1 of vain pleasures, armour of ignorance, 
 a corslet of inconstancy, vambraces 2 of arrogancy, gauntlets of 
 idleness, a gorget of licentiousness, a helmet of lightness, a 
 buckler of shamelessness, a gilt-cap of vain-glory, a girdle of 
 intemperance, a sword of rebellion, and a lance, named Hope 
 of Long-life. ‘ Then Pride prepared me a galloping horse, 
 called Temerity. At last Folly apparelled herself lightly with 
 <i cloak of feathers, and mounted upon a jenet; and opening 
 her feathers and wings with the wind, away she flew; and I 
 also, at a wild adventure, set spurs to my horse, and away we 
 went both.’ 
 
 During their ride. Folly tells him her triumphs in such 
 gross terms, that the knight found fault with this insatiable 
 empress, and calls her some very unpolite names; but not 
 having received God’s grace, he was unable to forsake her. 
 they come to two paths, one a goodly green meadow; the 
 other rocky, narrow, and full of mountains; and here met with 
 two elegant ladies, on chargers richly caparisoned. Lady 
 Voluptuousness pictures to him the pleasures of idleness, with 
 all worldly delights; and Lady Felicity, the advantages of 
 industry and virtue. As the husbandman could expect no 
 corn unless he prepared the ground and sowed the seed; so 
 that man is marvellously misinformed who thinketh to achieve 
 true blessedness unless he prepares his way by virtue and good 
 deeds. But while Reason preferred the good advice of Felicity, 
 Folly prevailed, and led him to the palace of Voluptuousness! 
 The palace is minutely described, with all its wanton and 
 luxurious enjoyments. After leading a beastly life eleven days, 
 lie goes out hunting, accompanied by his gay ladies; when 
 suddenly the palace sinks into the earth, yielding such an air 
 of brimstone, that the like hath not been felt. The knight 
 sunk into a beastly bog up to his saddle,’ and his companions 
 changed into serpents, snakes, toads, and venomous worms. 
 
 1 le fell into despair, howled, and scratched Iris face ; he tried 
 in vain to get out, and found ‘ that after a man be once sunk 
 in sin, he will not be able to recover himself unless he have 
 the help of God’s grace.’ After bitter repentance, he prays ; 
 and a splendid lady, called God’s-Grace, relieved him, and he 
 left Temerity his horse, and Folly his governess, in the bog to 
 fish for fiogs. Ihus you see that God’s grace draweth us 
 from sins without any merit of ours ; howbeit not without an 
 inward heart-grief and sorrow for sin, which is a special gift 
 of God’s grace.’ His new guide showed him the ruins of the 
 palace of worldly Felicity converted into a great bed of iron, 
 red hot, upon which his late companions were tormented. He 
 is then led to the school of repentance, which is surrounded 
 with a moat, called Humility. Here all his follies are 
 brought to his remembrance; he sees what torments he had 
 deserved for them, and was half in despair. Portions of 
 Scripture are exhibited, which comfort and convert him. 
 Understanding, now preaches him a sermon on the history of 
 Mary Magdalene. The knight then receives the communion, 
 and is carried to the palace of Virtue. The third part of the 
 
 1 Stockings. 2 Armour for the arms. 
 
 v °yage describes the happiness whili his felt in company with 
 Lady V irtue. At length Faith, from the top of a tower, show's 
 him the city of heaven. It concludes with a prayer, the creed, 
 and ten commandments, and an exhortation to perseverance 
 until the knight shall attain the glorious city of paradise. 
 
 Although this work was doubtless intended for 
 good, yet such is the indelicacy of many of its 
 scenes, that it was more calculated to excite evil 
 passions than to lead an inquirer to happiness. 
 The way of salvation is confined to moral observ¬ 
 ances, without that spring of virtue which flows 
 from faith in Jesus Christ, and its consequent 
 evangelical obedience. There is no similarity be¬ 
 tween this Voyage and the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ 
 except it be the foresight of the heavenly paradise, 
 which has been, and is, one of the enjoyments of 
 the real Christian from the Revelations of John to 
 the present time. 3 There is no ground for sup¬ 
 posing that the persecuted Bunyan ever saw this 
 Chevalier Errant. 
 
 Whitney’s Emblems. 4to, Leyden, 1586; pp. 179. 
 The cut over one of the emblems represents a 
 man swimming, with a pack upon his back. 
 
 c Desire to hauc, dothe make vs muche indure. 
 
 In trauayle, toile, and labour voide of reste : 
 
 The marchant-man is caried with this lure, 
 
 Throughe scorching heate, to regions of the Easte : 
 
 Oh thirste of goulde, what not? but thou canst do: 
 And make mens hartes for to consent thereto. 
 
 ‘ The trauailer poore, when shippe doth sutler wracke. 
 
 Who hopes to swimme vnto the wished lande, 
 
 Dothe venture life, with fardle on his backe, 
 
 That if he scape, the same in steede maye stande. 
 
 Thus, hope of life, and loue vnto his goods, 
 
 Flouldes vp his chinne, with burthen in the floods.’ 
 
 Another emblem has a cut, representing a pilgrim with his 
 staff leaving a globe [the world] behind him, p. 225. Pere¬ 
 grin us Christianus loquitur. 
 
 Adve 4 deceiptfull worlde , thy 'pleasures I detest: 
 
 Nowe, others with thy showes delude; my hope in heauen doth 
 rest. 
 
 Inlarged as followeth :— 
 
 ‘ Even as a flower, or like vnto the grasse, 
 
 Which now dothe stande, and straight w'ith sithe dothe fall, 
 So is our state: now here, now hence wee passe: 
 
 For, time attendes with shredding sithe for all. 
 
 And deathe at lengthe, both oulde, and yonge, doth strike* 
 And into dust dothe turne vs all alike. 
 
 * Yet, if we marke how swifte our race dothe ronne. 
 
 And waighe the cause, why wee created bee: 
 
 Then shall we know, when that this life is donne. 
 
 Wee shall bee sure our countrie right to see. 
 
 For, here wee are but straungers, that must flitte: 
 
 The nearer home, the nearer to the pitte. 
 
 3 Mr. Lowndes, in his Bibliographical Manual , says that 
 Bunyan, in his «Pilgrim’s Progress,’ was much indebted to 
 this Wandering Knight! 1 
 
 4 Adieu. 
 
44 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 O happie they, that pondering this arighte, 
 
 Before that here their pilgrimage bee past, 
 llesigne this world: and marclie with all their ruighte 
 Within that pathe, that leades where ioyes shall last. 
 
 And whilst they may, there, treasure vp their store, 
 
 Where, without rust, it lastes for euermore. 
 
 This worlde must chaunge: That worlde, shall still indure. 
 Here, pleasures fade: There, shall they endlesse bee. 
 
 Here, man doth sinne: And there, hee shalbee pure, 
 
 Here, deathe hee tastes: And there, shall neuer die. 
 
 Here, hathe hee griefe: And there shall ioyes possesse. 
 
 As none hath seene, nor anie harte can gesse.’ 
 
 These are the poems from which Mr. Montgomery 
 conceives Bunyan might perhaps have inspired his 
 first idea! 
 
 The other of Whitney’s Emblems upon pilgrimage, is under 
 a cut representing Mercury and two men travelling upon a 
 road. 
 
 * The trauaylinge man, vncertaine where to goe, 
 
 When diuers wayes before his face did lie, 
 
 Mercurius then, the perfect pathe did showe, 
 
 Which when he tooke, he neuer went awrie, 
 
 But to his wishes, his iorneys ende did gaine 
 In happie howre, by his direction plaine. 
 
 * This trauailinge man: doth tell our wandringe state, 
 
 Before whose face, and eelce on euery side, 
 
 Bypathes, and wayes, appeare amidd our gate, 
 
 That if the Lorde bee not our onlie guide: 
 
 We stumble, fall, and dailie goe astraye, 
 
 Then happie those, whome God doth shew the waye.’ 
 
 The Pilgrimage to Paradise. Compiled for the 
 Direction, Comfort, and Resolution of God’s 
 poore distressed Children in passing through 
 this irksome Wildernesse of Temptation and 
 Tryall. By Leonard Wright. 4to, London, 
 1591. 
 
 Full of sound instruction, but not allegorical. 
 
 Benoist (Father-Confessor to Mary Queen of Scots), 
 le Chevalier Chrestien. 
 
 This is a dialogue between a Christian knight and an infidel, 
 whom he attempts to instruct in the knowledge of God and 
 the Romish faith. It has cuts representing the knight’s horse, 
 and the various parts of his armour and habiliments, which 
 are spiritualized. Some of these instructions to an infidel are 
 curious, ‘Comme l’Eglise, second Paradis, a este plantee et 
 est contenue en la Yierge, monde mystique.’ 1 ‘ l)e la descente 
 de Jesus Christ en enfer, ou il a remporte encore une autre 
 victoire sur Satan, brisant ses prisons, et deliverant les Peres 
 qu’il y tenoit captif.’ 2 This is the true meaning of the descent 
 into hell in what is called the Apostles’ Creed. Among other 
 curious discoveries which the author makes is, that if Adam 
 had not been persuaded to sin by his wife, his posterity would 
 not have been corrupt. 3 
 
 The Pilgrimage of Princes. By L. Lloid, one of 
 Queen Elizabeth’s Sergeants-at-Arms. 
 
 There is nothing allegorical in this entertaining 
 volume. It is a pilgrimage to the characters and 
 
 works of princes, which are curiously exhibited. 
 
 A few are in poetry, such as that of King Herod I 
 
 c When ILerocl reigned in Juda king 
 His life so loathsome led, 
 
 On sucking babes and infants blood, 
 
 This cruel tyrant fed. 
 
 To seek our Saviour Christ, he kill’d 
 The Babes of Juda land; 
 
 And thought our God could not escape 
 His fomie bloody hand. 
 
 Of worms this Herod was devoured, 
 
 Of vermin loe, and mice: 
 
 His bones, his flesh, was all consumed 
 And eaten up of Lice.’ 
 
 The Plaine Mans Path-ivay to Heaven. By Arth. 
 
 Dent. 1601. 
 
 There is a rare tract under this title in black 
 letter, with a woodcut of the author, 12 leaves; 
 but the book that was made a blessing to Bunyan 
 is a small octavo volume. This little book made 
 a considerable part of the worldly goods which 
 Bunyan’s first wife brought as her portion, and it 
 became one of the means by which he was awakened 
 from the dreary sleep of sin, and therefore an in¬ 
 valuable portion. It is singular that no one has 
 charged him with taking any hints from this book, 
 which is one of the very few which he is known to 
 have read prior to his public profession of faith 
 and holiness in baptism. 
 
 The author, in his epistle, calls it a ‘ controversie with Satan 
 and Sinne.’ It is a dialogue between ‘ a Divine, an Honest 
 Man, an Ignorant Man, and a Caviller.’ They commence 
 about buying a good cow, then worth four pounds, and are 
 drawn into religious conversation. 'The author is so high a 
 Calvinist, that, speaking of infants, he says, * some, no doubt, 
 are saved through the election of grace.’ He commences with 
 the new birth: arguments are adduced to show why good and 
 worthy men are lost, because they esteem a preacher no more 
 than a shoemaker, nor the Scriptures than their old shoes. 
 He places lying among the principal sins, which he calls the 
 Beelzebuhs of the world. He introduces very familiar illustra¬ 
 tions and well-known proverbs. Speaking against pride, he 
 says, ‘ How proud many (especially women) be of baubles. For 
 when they have spent a good part of the day in tricking and 
 trimming, pricking and pinning, pranking and pouncing, gird¬ 
 ing and lacing, and braving up themselves in most exquisite 
 manner, out they come into the streets with their pedlar s shop 
 upon their backs and take themselves to be little Angels they 
 are one lump of pride—the time will come when they and all 
 their gay clouts will be buried in a grave —- what will all 
 this profit them when their bodies are buried in the dust and 
 their souls in hell-fire ? what then will they say of these doubled 
 and redoubled ruffs, strutting iardingales, long locks, fore tufts, 
 shag haire and new fashions?” He complains of two marks 
 being paid for a pair of stockings [£1, 65. 8AJ1 ‘ What say 
 
 you to our artificial women, which will be better than God hath 
 made them ? they like not his handy work, they will mend it 
 —they will have other complections, other hair, other bones, 
 and other .... than God made them.’ Modern refine¬ 
 ment prevents one of these words from being copied; but the 
 monstrous deformity shown by some ladies of our day, appears 
 
 1 Edit. Rouen, 1609, 8vo, p. 97. 
 
 2 P. 160. 
 
 3 P. 48. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 45 
 
 then to have been in fashion. Dent calls such ladies pictures, 
 puppets, and peacocks. Had Banyan been a plagiarist, how 
 readily might lie have borrowed an idea from Dent of the 
 Muck-rake. * The gripple muck-rakers had as leve part with 
 their blood as their goods. They will pinch their own hacks 
 and bellies to get their god into their chest.’ But Bunyan’s 
 Muck-rake is all his own. ‘Mony lazie lozels and luskish 
 youths do nothing hut walk the streets, sit on stalls, and fre¬ 
 quent Ale houses. Many rich women do ordinarily lie in bed 
 till nine of the clock, aud then forsooth rise, and make them¬ 
 selves ready to goc to dinner. And after they have well dined, 
 they spend the rest of the day, and a good part of the night 
 also, in playing, prattling, babbling, cackling, prating, and 
 gossippiug. Fie on this idle life. ’ 1 
 
 The enmity of the natural man against those who bear the 
 image of Christ is thus expressed: ‘It is a wonder to consider 
 how deadly the wicked hate the righteous, and almost in every 
 Thing oppose themselves against them: and that in most vir¬ 
 ulent and spiteful manner. They raile and slander, scoffe and 
 scorae, mocke and mowe at them, as though they were not 
 worthy to live upon the earth. They esteeme every pelting 
 Rascall, and prefer eucry vile Yarlet before them. And though 
 they have their lines and liberty, their breath and safety, and 
 all that they haue else by them [for their sakes], yet for all 
 that, they could be content to eate their heart with garlicke: 
 so great, so fiery, so burning and hissing-hot is their fury 
 and malice against them. They may be compared to a man 
 that standeth upon a bough in the top of a tree, and with an 
 axe choppcth it off, and therewithall falleth down with it, 
 aud breaketh his necke.’ 2 Dent, speaking of the entrance by 
 the strait gate, says: ‘ It must be done by great strife against 
 the world, the flesh, and the Diuell—none can enter in without 
 vehement crowding aud almost breaking their shoulder-bones 
 —many which seek shall not bee able to enter.’ How different 
 to Bunyan’s description: ‘ Knock, and it shall be opened unto 
 you.’ Yet both are right: one places his obstacles long before 
 the pilgrim arrives at the gate; then, having overcome the 
 world and the flesh, the devil shoots at him; the other reserves 
 all the Christian’s opposition to the time when entering the 
 gate. Dent’s language is picturesque: ‘We haue all the 
 Diuels in hell against vs, with all their horns, heads, marvell¬ 
 ous strength, infinite wiles, cunning devices, deepe slights, and 
 methodical temptations. Here runs a sore streame against vs. 
 Then haue we this present euill world against us, with her 
 innumerable baits, snares, netts, gins and grins to catch vs, 
 fetter vs and entangle vs. Here haue wee profittes and plea¬ 
 sures, riches and honour, wealth and preferment, ambition and 
 couetousnesse. Here comes in a Camp-royall of spiritual and 
 inuisible enemies. Lastly we haue our flesh, that is, our cor¬ 
 rupted nature against vs: wee haue our-selues against our- 
 selues.’ This book was written fifty years after the Reforma¬ 
 tion ; but so slow were the clergy to teach, or the people to 
 learn, that when a farmer is asked, ‘ What is the end of receiv¬ 
 ing the sacrament ? ’ he answered, ‘ To receive my maker.’ Aud 
 when asked how many sacraments there were, his answer was, 
 
 ‘ Two, Bread and Wine! ’ Bunyan must have felt the force of 
 such language as the following : ‘ Every sin that a man commit- 
 teth is as a thorn thrust deep into the soul; which will not be got 
 out again but with many a sigh, and many a sorrowful Oh 1 Oh 1 
 Every sin is written with a pen of iron and the point of a 
 diamond upon the conscience, which, if not felt in this life, 
 then with woe, and alas! when it is too late.’ The farmer being 
 deeply affected with a sense of his danger, Atheist advises him 
 to read * The Court of Venus, The Palace of Pleasure, Bevis 
 
 of Southampton, Ellen of Rummin, The Merry Jest of the 
 Friar and the Boy, The Pleasant Story of Clem of the Clough, 
 Adam Bell, and William of Cloudesley, The Odd Tale of 
 William, Richard, and Humphrey, The Pretty Conceit of John 
 Splinter's Last Will —excellent books against heart qualms 
 and dumpishness.’ To which the zealous minister replied: 
 * They are good to kindle a fire—they were devised by the 
 devil, seen and allowed by the Pope, printed in TIcll, bound by 
 Hobgoblins, and published in Rome, Italy, and Spain.’ 3 
 
 This volume must have been exactly suited to 
 the warm imagination of Bunyan. It had proved 
 invaluable to him as a means of conversion; hut, 
 after a careful and delightful perusal, no trace can 
 be found of any phrase or sentence having been 
 introduced into the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress.’ 
 
 o o 
 
 The copy which the Editor lias used in extract¬ 
 ing the above account is the nineteenth impression, 
 1625, and has the name of M. Bunyonn written on 
 the bottom of the title; probably the very volume 
 which his wife brought him as her dowry. 4 5 
 
 The result of long, anxious, and expensive in¬ 
 quiries is, that, from the first idea to the completion 
 of his ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ it entirely flowed from 
 Bunyan’s own soul. Well might he say— 
 
 ‘ Manner and matter too was all mine own.’ 
 
 Sir Walter Raleigh’s Pilgrimage. Written by 
 himself, and published in his remains. 
 
 * Give me my scalop shell of quiet. 
 
 My staff of faith to walk upon, 
 
 My scrip of joy, immortal diet; 
 
 My bottle of salvation. 
 
 My gown of glory, hope’s true gage, 6 
 And thus I’ll take my pilgrimage. 
 
 Blood must be my body’s only balmer. 
 
 No other balm will there be given; 
 
 Whilst my soul, like a quiet Palmer, 0 
 Travelleth towards the land of Heaven. 
 
 Over the silver mountains, 
 
 Where springs the nectar fountains, 
 
 There will I kiss the bowl of bliss; 
 
 And drink mine everlasting fill 
 Upon every milken hill. 
 
 My soul will be a dry before, 
 
 But after it will thirst no more. 
 
 I’ll take them first to quench my thirst, 
 
 And taste of nectar’s suckets, 
 
 At those clear wells, where sweetness dwells. 
 
 Drawn up by saints in chrystal buckets. 
 
 Then by that happy blestfull day. 
 
 More peaceful pilgrims I shall see. 
 
 That have cast off their rags of clay, 
 
 And walk apparelled fresh like me; 
 
 And when our bottles and all we 
 Are fill’d with immortality, 
 
 3 Pp. 371, 372. Edit. 1625. 
 
 4 In the Editor’s library. 
 
 5 ‘ Gage;’ a pledge or challenge to combat. 
 
 6 ‘ Palmer;’ a pilgrim, from their carrying a branch of 
 palm, especially on return. 
 
 1 P. 170. 
 
 2 P. 221. 
 
46 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Then the blest parts we’ll travel; 
 
 Strowed with rubies thick as gravel. 
 
 Ceilings of diamonds, sapphire flowers, 
 
 High walls of coral, and pearly bowers. 
 
 From thence to Heaven’s hribeless hall, 
 
 Where no corrupted vices brawl; 
 
 No conscience molten into gold, 
 
 No forg’d accuser bought or sold, 
 
 No cause deferr’d, no vain-spent journey, 
 
 For there Christ is the king’s attorney; 
 
 Who pleads for all without degrees. 
 
 And he hath Angels, 1 hut no fees; 
 
 And when the twelve grand million jury 
 Of our sins, with direful fury, 
 
 ’Gainst our souls, black verdicts give, 
 
 Christ pleads his death and then we live. 
 
 Be thou my speaker (taintless pleader, 
 
 Unhlotted Lawyer, true proceeder) 
 
 Thou would’st salvation e’en for alms, 
 
 Not •with a bribed lawyer’s palms. 
 
 And this is fny eternal plea 
 
 To him that made heaven, earth and sea. 
 
 That since my flesh must die so soon, 
 
 And want a head to dine next noon, 
 
 Just at the stroke, when my veins start and spread, 
 Set on my soul an everlasting head. 
 
 Then am I ready, like a Palmer, fit 
 
 To tread those blest paths which before I writ. 
 
 Of Death and Judgement, Heaven, and Plell, 
 
 Who oft doth think, must needs die well.’ 
 
 The Plain Man s Pilgrimage, or Journey towards 
 Heaven, wherein if he walke carefully he may 
 attain to everlasting life. By W. W[ebster]. 
 18mo, 1613. 
 
 First, To set out on the journey, we must get rid of covet¬ 
 ousness. Second, For speed, we must begin young—give God 
 the heart, and number our days. We have a long journey to 
 go in a short space of time—a day. A short life is like a 
 winter’s day; a long life like a day in summer. One of his 
 similes is far beyond ordinary comprehension. ‘ For as the 
 windows of the temple were large within and narrow without; 
 so they which are within the church have greater light than 
 they which are without.’ Another extract will show the doc¬ 
 trinal views of the author. ‘We must put on his (Christ’s) 
 righteousness, which is as strange a vesture to us, as our flesh 
 was to liim; it requires great cunning to wear it cleanly and 
 comely, from foyling 2 and rending it, lest it should he taken 
 from us again.’ 
 
 The author gives much good advice as to search¬ 
 ing the Scriptures and prayer, but there is nothing 
 allegorical in this rare little volume. 
 
 The Pilgrim. 
 
 This old comedy, by Beaumont and Fletcher, could afford 
 no hint to Bunyan, and it is very probable that he never 
 wasted one of his precious minutes over a play. 
 
 To a late period, and even to the present day, 
 
 1 ‘ Angels;’ gold coins, one-third of a sovereign, afterwards 
 raised to ten shillings; or the spirits of heaven. 
 
 2 ‘ Foyling;’ pressing, creasing, rumpling. 
 
 in Roman Catholic countries, the word pilgrim is 
 only understood as relating to a meritorious pil¬ 
 grimage to the shrine of some saint. In the 
 Glossographia Anglicana, 1719, the meaning of the 
 word pilgrim is ‘ one that travels upon account of 
 religion, to visit holy places ; to pay his devotion to 
 the relics of dead saints.’ The principal places 
 were Rome, Loretto, Jerusalem, Compostella, and 
 the local shrines with which every country in 
 Europe abounded. In former times it was a duty 
 inculcated upon all classes, from the king to the 
 peasant, from the archbishop to the humblest 
 clerk, all bent beneath the custom of the times; 
 and two visits to a neighbouring shrine were con- 
 sidered equivalent to one at double the distance. 
 Such as were unable to go in person, gave money 
 to have the duty performed by proxy. A dream 
 or vision, a penance ordered, or a vow made in the 
 hour of danger, were frequently the prelude to a pil¬ 
 grimage, and the belief was general, that if they 
 were not made during life, they might, with greater 
 trouble, be performed after death. 
 
 * Some went for payment of a vow 
 In time of trouble made, 
 
 And some who found that pilgrimage 
 Was a pleasant sort of trade.’ 3 
 
 Frequently two hundred thousand pilgrims were 
 at Loretto at one time. They formed proces¬ 
 sions round the palace of our Lady, on their bare 
 knees, five, seven, nine, or twelve times. We 
 can scarcely credit the accounts of the number of 
 devotees who practised all sorts of vices, going 
 and returning, to secure the pardon of sin, by visit¬ 
 ing the shrine, and invoking the aid of the saint— 
 so besotted and intoxicated were mankind made by 
 the Church. In six months, from January to June, 
 1435, the King of England granted licenses to 
 two thousand eight hundred and fifty pilgrims, to 
 Compostella alone; and it is impossible to give 
 any idea of the myriads of Europeans who perished 
 on pilgrimages, especially to the Holy Land. The 
 church constantly prayed for these votaries, as the 
 Church of England now prays for those who travel 
 by land or by water. 
 
 The Rev. W. Acworth, at a meeting of the Bible 
 Society, related an anecdote, which may be useful 
 to travellers in popish countries : 4 ‘ A gentleman 
 who had travelled before me from Rome, had with 
 him some Bibles, Testaments and tracts, on the 
 top of which he had placed good old John Bunyan’s 
 Pilgrim’s Progress. When the package was opened, 
 the Douanniers examined this book, and not bein^ 
 very good English scholars, they knew not what 
 to make of the title. Bun—Bun—Bunyan’s Pil¬ 
 grim’s Progress! “What is that?” said one; 
 
 4 Report , May 1836, p. 392. 
 
 3 Southey. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY T1IE EDITOR. 
 
 47 
 
 “ Oh,” replied the other, “ ’tis some work on tlic 
 advantage of pilgrimages and consequently the 
 whole were immediately allowed. Now, I had my 
 regular passport; hut I venture to say, that good 
 John Bunyan’s Pilgrim was a hotter passport for 
 the Bihle than any other which could have been 
 found on that occasion.’ 
 
 The Pilgrim's Practice, containing many Godly 
 Prayers. By Robert Bruen. 8vo, Lond. 
 1621. 
 
 1 he Pilgrim s Profession .—This is accompanied by 
 The Pearl of the Gospel; with a glass for Gen¬ 
 tlemen to dress themselves by. By Thomas 
 Taylor, D.D. 8vo, 1624. 
 
 There is nothing allegorical in these volumes. 
 
 The Pilgrim of Casteele; written in Spanish, trans¬ 
 lated into English ; 4to, 1623 ; and repub¬ 
 lished many times. 
 
 This is a romance, probably invented in English. It repre¬ 
 sents a lover in the disguise of a pilgrim. He suffers ship- 
 wreck, and is picked up by some fishermen, who mistook him, 
 when covered with weeds and mud, for a fardel of cloth; but 
 found it to be the pilgrim in a trance. They restore him to 
 strength, and he enters upon some very extraordinary adven- j 
 tures. In his journey, he gives a good illustration of the then ! 
 popular faith in haunted houses. Being benighted, he found 
 a lodging in a hospital, deserted ‘ in regard of a strange noyse 
 which every night was there heard, which hath happened 
 ever since the death of a stranger who came thither to lodge, 
 nobody hath dwelt there.’ The pilgrim having made the 
 sign of the cross, laid down to sleep, but in the deep silence j 
 he awoke, for c his bed did move as a ship or a horse, which 
 did carry him; he opened his eyes, and saw horsemen enter by 
 two and two into the chamber, who, lighting torches which 
 they held in their hands at the candle which he had left 
 burning, cast them against the ceiling of the chamber, where 
 they stuck fast with their bottoms upward, which dropt down 
 burning llames upon his bed and upon his clothes. He covereth 
 himself as well as possibly he could, leaving a little hole to 
 look out at, that he might see whether his bed did burn or no; 
 when as instantly he saw the flames out, and that upon a table 
 which was in a corner of the chamber, four of them were at 
 primero, they passed, discarded, and set up money, as if they 
 had truly played. At length they, debating upon a difference, 
 tell into a quarrel in the chamber, which made such a noise 
 with clashing of swords, that the miserable pilgrim called for 
 help upon our lady of Gadalupe; when the clattering of swords, 
 and all other noise ceased, and he was all of a sweat with fear. 
 Presently he felt that the bed and the clothes were pulled away 
 from him by the uttermost corners, and he saw a man come in 
 with a lighted torch in his hand, followed by two others, the 
 one with a great brazen bason, and the other sharpening a little 
 knife. Then began he to tremble, and all his hair to stand on 
 end; he would have spoken, but was not able, when they were 
 near him, the torch was put out; and the pilgrim, thinking that 
 they would kill him, put his hands forth against the knife, when 
 he lelt that they laid hold on him, he gave a great cry, and the 
 tuich instantly kindled again, and he saw himself between two 
 mastiff dogs, who held him fast in their teeth. Jesus, cried out 
 
 the pilgrim; at *vhich name all those fantastic illusions vanished 
 away, leaving him so weary and so affrighted that he could 
 stay there no longer. He then went to a holy hermit, who 
 had a stone for his pillow, his staff for a companion, and a 
 death’s head for his looking-glass; who learnedly attributed 
 all these midnight revels to ‘ angels fallen from the lowest 
 quire, who suffer less pains than ether, as having not so much 
 sinned, but do take pleasure to displease men with frightings, 
 noises, rumours,.subtilties, and such like things, which they do in 
 the night in houses, which thereby they make altogether unha¬ 
 bitable, not being able otherwise to hurt but by these foolish 
 aud ridiculous efforts, limited and bound by the Almighty.’ 
 
 It appears by numerous stories in this book, that 
 the Pilgrim’s habit was frequently assumed by run¬ 
 away lovers, of whom this volume contains many 
 romantic accounts. It contains nothing allegorical, 
 but professes to be a relation of matter-of-fact 
 adventures. 
 
 I he most curious book which has fallen under 
 my notice, upon these painful pilgrimages, is 
 
 The Pilgrim of Loretto performing his Vow made to 
 the Glorious Virgin Mary , Mother of God. By 
 L. Richeome. 4to, Paris, 1630. Dedicated to 
 Mary, Queen of Charles I. 
 
 This work is intended to show the merits and advantages 
 of pilgrimages to hoy places; because the Jews were pilgrims 
 to Jerusalem three times a year. The kings, or sages, made 
 their pilgrimage, guided to the star of the world. Our Lord 
 was a pilgrim in Egypt, and he has left many places to which 
 Christians should undertake holy pilgrimages, and obtain the 
 fruits of his graces; among these, Loretto is the most famous. 
 This chapel is forty feet long, twenty wide, and twenty-five 
 high, built of ordinary small stones, hard and squared long, of 
 the colour of brick; the walls adorned with paintings of sacred 
 stories, a stone altar —‘ breathing as it were something divine.’ 
 The image of the Blessed Virgin, crow’ned with precious stones; 
 her gown of cloth of gold, with a sky-coloured mantle. On 
 her left arm the little child Jesus, having a countenance fidl 
 of grace and majesty. In the year 1291, the 9th of May, this 
 house was at night carried by angels from Galilee into Scla- 
 vonia, and remained there four years. On the night of the 
 19th of November, 1294, it was removed, first into"the Mark 
 of Ancona, to a forest, the property of a lady named Loretto; 
 but the forest being infested with thieves, it was removed to a 
 hill hard by. In less than a month, it was again removed to 
 Reccanata, and there remains. Dr. Franklin says that three 
 removes are as bad as a fire; but this house, with all its con¬ 
 tents, was bodily removed, without injury, four times; and to 
 pi event scepticism, the author recounts some wonders per¬ 
 formed by angels— £ we know by their naturall force, they 
 mule about the huge frames of the celestiall Bodys, from East 
 to West with an admirable swiftness and constancy now these 
 six thousand yeares togeather, without any paine or difficulty : 
 a work without comparison more difficult, than to carry a 
 house once or twice, from one country to another, although it 
 be miraculous, and admirable for the rarenes.’ He adds the 
 testimony of Francis Prior, which, if true , decides the fact— 
 
 ‘ he had often heard of his grandfather, that he did see the 
 house of the blessed Virgin, when being carried in the air it 
 lighted in the forest;’ besides which, it was honoured with 
 innumerable miracles. The result w r as, that emperors, popes, 
 and princes presented gifts to the Virgin, imtil the massive 
 gold and silver plate, diamonds, and baubles accumulated to 
 
48 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 an incredible value; it has been thought that millions of | 
 pounds sterling would not have paid for them, at a fair valua¬ 
 tion. 1 
 
 This pilgrimage is completed in forty days; thrice seven 
 going, being the number of penance and purgation; nine to 
 spend at Loretto, for the orders of angels, the intellectual 
 light; and ten to return, it being the number of perfection. 
 The pilgrim is to use his rosary of sixty-three beads, the age 
 of the Virgin when she died ; saying upon the small beads an 
 Ave Maria, and upon the larger, every tenth, a Paternoster. 
 Having confessed and communicated, three pilgrims commence 
 the pilgrimage; and the first day’s meditation was on the 
 condition of man, as a pilgrim and stranger upon earth. It 
 closes with a canticle, of which this is the last stanza— 
 
 * Merrily then, let’s march apace 
 Unto this blessed Virgin’s Hall, 
 
 There shall we see the heaven’s grace 
 Inclosed in a Chappel small: 
 
 And learne to be of this mayde-wife 
 Perfect Pilgrimes all our life.’ 
 
 9 
 
 Similar instructions are given for each day’s meditation. 
 After the ten commandments follow the five, which were for¬ 
 gotten or omitted in the decalogue, and are called the Com¬ 
 mandments of the Church. 1. To keep the feasts. 2. To 
 hear mass. 3. To fast Lent, &c. 4. To confess. 5. To take 
 
 the sacrament at Easter: to which are added, 6. Not to marry 
 in times forbidden; and 7. To pay tithes. 
 
 When they had arrived at Loretto, themes were given for 
 this nine days’ meditation, during his sojourn there: as, a 
 meditation upon the holy eucharist; on the conception of the 
 blessed Virgin; on her ancestors ; presentation; espousal of 
 Joseph and Mary, both being virgins to the time of their 
 death; the incarnation; nativity, &c. Before leaving Loretto, 
 they pray to the Virgin; the close of this prayer is— c to stir re 
 us up to yield honour, praise, and immortal thanlcs to the 
 Sonne and the Mother, who with their honour have made thee 
 so honourable .’ 
 
 On their return, these pilgrims were mistaken for thieves, 
 and narrowly escaped death. Many miracles are talked over; 
 and among them, one narrated by Eisher, Bishop of Rochester, 
 in 1526, in his book against (Ecolampadius, of a priest who 
 lived many months without food or hunger, and in the midst 
 of snow, without feeling cold, by licking a stone. 
 
 The best sentence in the volume is in the thirty-fifth day. 
 The meditation is upon the preaching of John: ‘he that in 
 his preaching maketh himselfe admired, and not Jesus Christ, 
 and draweth the harts of his hearers after himselfe, and not 
 after Jesus Christ, is a thiefe, employing his Maisters money 
 and guiftes to his owne uses, and not to his Maisters honour.’ 
 The three pilgrims being benighted, climbed an oak to pass 
 the night. One of them said, ‘ If it rains, what shall we do ?* 
 ‘We will doe,’ answered another, ‘as they do in Normandy.* 
 ‘And what do they there?’ replied he. ‘They let it raiu,* 
 quoth the other. At eleven o’clock at night, they are alarmed 
 by a horrible spectacle. A monstrous old goat, with a black 
 candle burning blue between his horns, read in a book, making 
 a circle, when sixty-six sorcerers and witches came riding 
 through the air, to this devil’s ball. As they arrived, they 
 did the old goat homage, by kissing under his tail, and com¬ 
 menced dancing. Upon a bank they made an altar, and 
 parodied the sacrifice of the mass. At length, the old goat 
 caught sight of the pilgrims; in a moment the dance was 
 dashed; three of them were turned into fierce wolves, who 
 mounted the tree to devour the pilgrims; but they made the 
 
 sign of the cross, and said, * Jesus Maria ? the wolves fell 
 down like sacks of corn, and the assembly vanished, leaving a 
 most horrible stench behind them ; 2 as if the plague had there 
 burnt all the rags of her infection. All this is narrated, not 
 as an allegory, but as a matter of fact. When such abominable 
 stories were believed, we can hardly wonder at the brutal 
 severity of our laws against poor old women, called witches. 
 
 In the morning, among gobbets of flesh and other foul 
 matters, they found a piece of turnip, cut to resemble a host, 3 
 with a silver chalice and paten; these they carried to the 
 nearest monastery, from which they had been stolen. 
 
 A merchant, who had befriended the pilgrims, when in the 
 most imminent danger of being murdered, vowed to devote 
 himself to religion, and was instantly carried, by invisible 
 agency, through the air, for many miles to a monastery, where 
 he took the vows. 
 
 The pilgrims meet some beset with pretended reformation, 
 and recover them to holy church, by narrating some miracles; 
 among others, one of a priest who was captured by the Turks, 
 and on his refusing to turn Mahometan, they took out his 
 bowels and heart, and put them into his hands, leaving him 
 to be devoured by wild beasts. But in fulfilment of a vow 
 that he had made to the blessed Virgin, he got up and walked 
 to Loretto, with his heart and bowels in his hands; recounted 
 to the officers of the church what had happened, showed them 
 his empty body and his life in his hand, and fulfilled his vow! 
 A painting of this miracle is preserved in the chapel. The 
 pilgrims, on the fortieth day, return in safety, and become 
 monks. This curious and rare volume ends with the Litany, 
 Rosary, and Corone of the blessed Virgin, in English: being 
 the official prayers to Mary, as sanctioned by the church. 
 These illustrate the dispute as to whether or not she is an 
 object of worship with the Romish Church. The following is 
 ‘ The Oblation of the Assumption:’— 
 
 * 0 Soueraigne Lady and Virgin, the honour of mankind, 
 and beauty of the heavens, I humbly offer unto thee 10. Aves 
 and one Tater-noster, to the glorious mystery of thy Assump¬ 
 tion ; when by the B. Sonne, thou wert called to his euer- 
 lasting glory, & deseruedst at thy happy passage to haue pre¬ 
 sent the holy Apostles thy seruants, & wast receiued body and 
 soule into the heauenly habitations of the celestiall spirits, as 
 Qneene of the Angels & mother of their Lord & maister.’ 
 
 The lady who, with considerable talent and great 
 humility, published Bunyan in epic poetry, under 
 the signature of C. C. V. G., in a note to a Key, 
 says, ‘ It is a certain fact, and one not very gener¬ 
 ally known, that a complete design of a Pilgrim’s 
 Progress is to he found in Lucian’s “ Hermotimus; 
 it is not to he imagined that Bunyan could have 
 seen it there, from the limited educational advan¬ 
 tages he possessed; yet, the obvious allegory oc¬ 
 curred to his mind, unschooled as it was, in a similar 
 arrangement with that suggested by Lucian.” ’ 4 
 
 Mr. Tooke thus translates the passage: 5 6 ‘ Her¬ 
 motimus, of Cladomena, of whom it is related, that 
 his soul often quitted him, and after having wan ¬ 
 dered a long while about the world by itself, r e- 
 
 2 Pp. 356, 357. This volume is of extreme rarity; it is in 
 the Editor’s library. 
 
 3 ‘ Host;’ the consecrated wafer. 
 
 4 This also struck Mr. Southey. See his Letter to Sir E. 
 
 Brydges in his Autobiography , vol. ii. p. 285. 
 
 6 Lucian’s Works, translated by Tooke, with Wieland’a 
 Notes, 4to, 1820, vol. ii. p. 268, 
 
 1 See Library of Learning, 8vo, p. 465. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 49 
 
 turned again into its body, and that Hermotimus was 
 several times taken for dead, and always rose again. ’ 
 To this Mr. Wieland adds a note: ‘It was a sm<ru- 
 
 O 
 
 lar gift that he had of being able to leave his body, 
 nnd come into it again ; and as a proof that his soul, 
 while its body lay for dead, was actually out of it, 
 lie knew, not only to give account of the remotest 
 places, and of what he had there seen and heard, 
 with accuracy, and in conformity to truth, but also 
 foretold sundry future events, as earthquakes and 
 other calamities, which actually came to pass. 
 And this he carried on so long, that his faithful 
 wife was induced to deliver up his body to his 
 enemies, during one of these emigrations of the 
 soul, who immediately burnt it; and thus for ever 
 stopped all re-entrance to the poor soul. The 
 learned Bishop Iluet directly pronounces this beau¬ 
 tiful story to be an old wife’s tale.’ Where the 
 poor burnt-out soul obtained another habitation, 
 we are not told. This notion of the soul wandering 
 about without the body has been lately revived, 
 among other absurdities called Mesmerism; but 
 what idea Bunyan could get from this absurd 
 story, is far beyond my comprehension. 
 
 Bernard’s Isle of Man; or, the Legal Proceedings 
 in Manshire against Sin. 
 
 This interesting little volume was very popular. 
 The author, a Puritan member of the Church of 
 England, who, profiting by the personal respect 
 felt for him by his bishop, escaped punishment, 
 and was permitted to enjoy his living of Batcomb. 
 The purity of his life; his zeal for the conversion 
 of perishing sinners; and his obedience to the dic¬ 
 tates of his own conscience, would, but for such 
 protection, have subjected him to persecution. The 
 late Dr. Adam Clarke 1 considered that there was 
 much reason to believe that The Isle of Man, or 
 Spenser’s Faery Queen, gave birth to the ‘ Pilgrim’s 
 Progress ’ and ‘Holy War.’ Dr. Southey 2 imagines 
 that Bunyan had seen this book, because his verses 
 introductory to the Second Part have some simi¬ 
 larity to Bernard’s Apology for his Allegory, which 
 closes the volume. Such authorities induced me 
 to a careful re-perusal of a book which had given 
 me much pleasure in bygone days. 
 
 Sin is the Thief and Robber; he stealeth oar graces ; spoil- 
 etli us of every blessing; utterly uudoeth us, and maketh 
 miserable both body and soul. He is a murderer; spares no 
 person, sex, or age; a strong thief; no human power can 
 bind him; a subtle thief; he beguiled Adam, David, yea, 
 even Paul. The only watchman to spy him out is Godly- 
 Jealousy. His resort is in Soul’s Town, lodging in the heart. 
 Sin is to be sought in the by-lanes, and in Sense, Thought, 
 
 ord, and Deed Streets. The hue and cry is after fellows ! 
 
 1 Postscript to Wetherall’s Life of Banyan, prefixed to The 
 IT grim , an Epic Poem, by C. C. V. G., Parsons’ Town, 1844. 
 “ Life of Banyan, p. xci. 
 
 VOL. HI. 
 
 called Outside, who nod or sleep at church, and, if awake, have 
 their mind wandering; Sir Worldly-wise, a self-conceited 
 earth-worm ; Sir Luke-warm, a Jack-on-both-sides; Sir Plaus¬ 
 ible Civil ; Master Machiavel; a licentious fellow named 
 ' Libertine; a snappish fellow, one Scrupulosity; and one Bab- 
 bling-Babylouian; these conceal the villain Sin. To escape, 
 he pretends to be an honest man; calls vices by virtuous 
 names; his relations, Ignorance, Error, Opinion, Idolatry, 
 Subtilty, Custom. Forefathers, Sir Power, Sir Sampler, Sir 
 Most-do, Sir Silly; Vain Hope, Presumption, Wilful and Saint¬ 
 like, all shelter and hide him. The Justice, Lord Jesus, issues 
 his warrant, God’s Word; to the Constable, Mr. Illuminated- 
 Understanding, dwelling in Regeneration, aided by his wife 
 Grace, his sons Will and Obedience, and his daughters, Faith, 
 Hope, and Charity, with his men Humility and Self-Denial, and 
 his maids Temperance and Patience. Having got his warrant, 
 he calls to aid his next neighbour Godly Sorrow, with his 
 seven sons Care, Clearing, Indignation, Fear, Vehement 
 Desire, Zeal, and Revenge; these are capable of apprehending 
 the sturdiest thief. He goes to the common inn, an harlot’s 
 house called Mistress Heart, a receptacle for all villains and 
 thieves, no dishonest person being denied house-room. Mis¬ 
 tress Heart married her own father, one Old-man, keeping 
 riot night and day, to prevent any godly motion from lodging 
 there. The house has five doors, Hearing, Seeing, Tasting, 
 Smelling, and Feeling. Eleven maids, impudent harlots, wait 
 upon the guests. Love, Hatred, Desire, Detestation, Vain-hope, 
 Despair, Fear, Audacity, Joy, Sorrow, and Anger, and a man¬ 
 servant Will. The Dishes are the lusts of the flesh, served in 
 the platter of pleasure; the lust of the eyes in the plate of 
 profit; and the pride of life. The drink is the pleasures of 
 sin; their bed-room is natural corruption. ‘ In this room 
 lyeth Mistress Heart, all her maids, her man, and all her 
 guests together, like wild Irish.’ The bed is impenitency, and 
 the coverings carnal security; when the constable enters, he 
 attaches them all with apprehensions of God's wrath, and 
 carries them before the judge, who examines the prisoners, and 
 imprisons them until the assizes, in the custody of the jailer, 
 New-man. * If any prisoner breaks out, the sheriff Religion 
 must bear the blame; saying. This is your religion, is it?’ 
 The keepers and fetters, as vows, fasting, prayer, &c., are 
 described with the prison. 
 
 The second part is the trial of the prisoner, and judgment 
 without appeal; the commission is Conscience; the circuit the 
 Soul; the counsel for the king are Divine Reason and Quick¬ 
 sightedness ; the clerk Memory; the witness Godly Sorrow; 
 the grand Jury Holy Men, the inspired authors; the traverse 
 jury Faith, Love of God, Fear of God, Charity, Sincerity, 
 Unity, Patience, Innocency, Chastity, Equity, Verity, and 
 Contentation; all these are challenges by the prisoners, who 
 would be tried by Nature, Doubting, Careless, &c., all free¬ 
 holders of great means. This the judge overrules; Old-man 
 is put on his trial first, and David, Job, Isaiah, and Paul, are 
 witnesses against him. He pleads, ‘ There is no such thing as 
 Original Corruptions; Pelagius, a learned man, and all those 
 now that are called Anabaptists, have hitherto, and yet do 
 maintain that sin cometh by imitation, and not by inbred 
 pravity. 3 Good, my lord, cast not away so old a man, for I 
 
 3 Acts xxviii. 22. This slander was thus published ip J 683. 
 In the face of the Baptist Confession of Faith, printed in 1646, 
 presented to Parliament, and many tunes reprinted, the eleventh 
 Article in which is—‘In the beginning God made all things 
 very good; created man after his own image; full with all 
 meet perfection of nature, and free from all sin; but long he 
 abode not in this honour, Satan using the subtlety of the ser¬ 
 pent to seduce, first Eve, then by her, seducing Adam, who, 
 without any compulsion, in eating the forbidden fruit, trails- 
 
50 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 am at this day 5569 years old.’ lie is found guilty, and his 
 sentence is—‘ Thou shalt be carried back to the place of exe¬ 
 cution, and there be cast off, ivith all thy deeds, and all thy 
 members daily mortified and crucified with all thy lusts, of 
 every one that hath truly put on Christ.’ Mistress Heart is 
 then tried; Moses (Gen. viii. 21), Jeremiah (xvii. 9), Ezekiel, 
 Matthew (xv. 9), and others, give evidence, and she is con¬ 
 victed, and sentenced to perpetual imprisonment under the 
 jailer, Mr. New-man. All the rest of the prisoners are tried; 
 the juries called in due order; prisoners plead; witnesses are 
 called; defence heard, verdict given, and sentence passed. 
 One among the prisoners, named Papistry, has a long trial 
 with numerous scriptures brought to testify against him : his 
 sentence closes the book—‘ That thou, the Master of Iniquity, 
 with the Old Serpent called the Devil, or Satan thy father, 
 with thy lewd mother that great whore, drunk with the blood 
 of the martyrs of Jesus, which sitteth upon a scarlet-coloured 
 beast; as also with that false prophet, the son of perdition, 
 thy guide and governor, shall be cast alive where the dragon 
 is, into the lake of fire burning with brimstone, there to be 
 tormented with all the marked ones in the presence of the 
 holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb; without rest 
 day and night, the smoke of which torment shall ascend up 
 for ever and for ever, without mercy or hope of redemption.’ 
 The contents form a key to the allegory. 
 
 There is not the slightest similarity between this 
 and the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ and the only resem¬ 
 blance it bears to the ‘ Holy War,’ is making the 
 senses the means of communication with the heart 
 or soul—an idea usual and universal in every age, 
 the use of which cannot subject a writer to the 
 charge of plagiarism. A correspondent in the 
 Gentleman s Magazine 1 imagines the following 
 strange genealogy or descent: Bunyan from Ber¬ 
 nard; from Fletcher’s Purple Island ; from Spenser’s 
 Faery Queen ; from Gawin Douglas’s King Hart ; 
 from thq Old Mysteries and Moralities. He might 
 have added, from the dreams of the Fathers ! ! ! 
 
 Scudder’s Christian's Daily Walk, 1625. 
 
 This excellent book was much read by the Puri¬ 
 tans and nonconformists, and was strongly recom¬ 
 mended by Dr. Owen and R. Baxter. 
 
 The sum of it is a Christian’s directions to walk with God. 
 The moral actions of man’s life are aptly resembled by the 
 metaphor of walking; no man while he liveth here is at home. 
 There are two contrary homes to which every man is always 
 going, either to heaven or to hell. Every action of man is 
 one pace or step whereby he goeth to the one place or the 
 other; so that God’s own children, while they live in this 
 world as pilgrims and strangers, are but in the way, not in the 
 country which they seek. 
 
 gressed the command of God arid fell, whereby death came 
 upon all his posterity, who now are conceived in sin, and, by 
 nature, the children of wrath, the servants of sin, the subjects 
 of death, and other miseries in this world, and for ever, unless 
 the Lord Jesus Christ set them free! How marvellous, that 
 a pious clergyman, while presenting to the world the Trial of 
 Sin, should be guilty of so great a piece of iniquity, as this 
 gross and uncalled-for misrepresentation 1 
 1 January 1844, p. 32. 
 
 The book that lias been most noticed as likely 
 to have been seen by Bunyan, is 
 
 Bolswert’s Pilgrimage of Duyfkens and Willemyn- 
 kens, 8vo, Antwerp, 1627. 2 
 
 It was translated into French, and became some¬ 
 what popular. This book was noticed by two 
 gentlemen from Yorkshire, "who called to see my 
 extensive collection of early English Bibles and 
 books, about twenty-four years ago. Among other 
 books they noticed a very fine copy of this rare 
 volume of Bolswert’s, the prints in which reminded 
 them of Bun van’s ‘ Pilgrim,’ and on their return 
 to the north, a paragraph was inserted in a pro¬ 
 vincial paper stating that our ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress’ 
 was a translation. The falsehood of such a state¬ 
 ment has been fully proved by Mr. Southey, to 
 whom the identical volume was lent, for the pur¬ 
 pose of fully entering into the question, and there 
 appears not to be the slightest similarity in the two 
 stories. 
 
 The cuts which struck my visitors were—A man sleeping, 
 and a pilgrim leaning over the bed; through the open door 
 two pilgrims are seen walking; they stoop on the bank of a 
 river, at the head of which, in the distance, the sun is setting. 
 Another cut represents the pilgrims with fools’ caps on their 
 heads, driven by a mob, and one of them before a man sitting 
 with his secretary at a table; a third shows the alarmed 
 pilgrim in a circle of lighted candles, while a necromancer 
 produces goblins and sprites from an overhanging hill; a 
 fourth shows the two pilgrims going up a steep mountain, 
 when one of them falls over the brink. The story is, that 
 Dovekin goes to Willemynken to awake her, and she sets out; 
 they wash in a river which has its source in Rome, and, taking 
 the Netherlands in its way, flows on to Jerusalem. They are 
 infested with vermin at a kermes; 3 go through a number of 
 ridiculous adventures, until one is blown from a rock, and is 
 lost; the other arrives at Jerusalem, and is married. 
 
 This short analysis is by Mr. Soutbey ; but a 
 translation of this pilgrimage into French lately 
 fell into my hands, and on an attentive perusal of 
 it, the object of the writer becomes perfectly 
 apparent. 
 
 Dovekin—Colombclle, the dove—is one who, without in¬ 
 quiry, obeys the church. 'Willemynken—Volontairette, self- 
 willed, or without restraint—will not submit without inquiry. 
 These two sisters set out on pilgrimage: Colombelle is happy 
 in every adventure, until blessed with a splendid husband and 
 great wealth; while Volontairette gets into perpetual dangers 
 and difficulties, until she meets a violent death. 
 
 The whole object is to prevent inquiry; to keep 
 the mind enslaved to priestcraft; to obstruct that 
 research into scriptural truth which the Holy Ghost 
 enjoins, ‘ Prove all things; hold fast that which is 
 good. ’ l Th. v. 2 i. ‘ Beloved, believe not every spirit, 
 
 2 Bolswert was an engraver of great eminence. He illus¬ 
 trated Sucquet’s Via Vitce Eternal ; the plates to this book 
 are beautifully engraved, and are remarkable for his prolific 
 imagination in drawing devils. 
 
 3 ‘ Kermes;’ a Flemish fair. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 61 
 
 but try the spirits whether they are of God: he- I 
 cause many false prophets are gone out into the 
 world.’ 1 Jn. iv. i. It is almost a wonder that a tale 
 so suited to the same popish puseyite sect in this 
 country, has not been published in English. 
 
 W e now come to a similar class of hooks published 
 during Bunyan’s life. 
 
 Wholesome Pepast for the Soule in her Pilgrimage 
 towards Jerusalem which is above. By John 
 Hodges. A pocket volume, 1638. 
 
 This is a series of meditations on passages of Holy Writ, 
 arranged in the order of the alphabet. 
 
 The Soule's Progresse to the Celestiall Canaan, or 
 Heavenly Jerusalem. By way of godly medita¬ 
 tions and holy contemplations. Accompanied 
 with divers learned exhortations and pithy per- 
 swasions, tending to Christianity and Humanity. 
 In two parts. First, on the Nature of God, and 
 second, on the sum of the Gospel. By John 
 Wells, small 4to, 1639. 
 
 True Inventory of the Goods and Chattels of Super¬ 
 stition, late of the parish of Ignorance, in the 
 County of Blind Devotion. 4to, 1642. 
 
 The Last Will and Testament of Sir J. Presbyter; 
 with his admonitions to legions of perjured 
 friends. 4to, 1647. 
 
 The two last belong to a series of satirical attacks upon 
 Episcopacy. 
 
 A Spiritual Duel between a Christian and Satan. 
 By H. J., 1646; with a frontispiece representing 
 a Saint armed, supported by Faith, Hope, and 
 Charity, fighting Diaholus, attended by Mundus 
 and Caro. Flame is proceeding from the mouth 
 of Diaholus. 
 
 This is a long and dreary conference between a sinner and 
 Satan, with soliloquies and prayers extending over 425 pages, 
 not relieved by anything allegorical. 
 
 The Christian Pilgrim in his Conflict and Conquest. 
 
 By John Castaniza. Printed in Paris, 1652. 
 
 A curious, but not allegorical volume of popish instructions, 
 with fine plates. 
 
 The Pilgrim, from Quarles’s Emblems. 
 
 ‘ 0 that my ways were directed to keep thy statutes .’— 
 
 Ps. cxix. 5. 
 
 1 . 
 
 * Thus I, the object of the world’s disdain, 
 
 \\ ith pilgrim face surround the weary earth: 
 
 I only relish what the world counts vain; 
 
 Her mirth’s my grief; her sullen grief my mirth ; 
 
 Her light my darkness; and her truth my error: 
 
 Her freedom is my goal; and her delight my terror. 
 
 2 . 
 
 * Fond earth! proportion not my seeming love 
 To my long stay; let not thy thoughts deceive thee; 
 
 Thou art my prison, and my home’s above; 
 
 My life’s a preparation but to leave thee; 
 
 Like one that seeks a door, I walk about thee; 
 ith thee I cannot live; I cannot live without thee. 
 
 3. 
 
 ‘ The world’s a lab’rinth whose anfractuous 1 ways 
 Are all compos’d of rubs and crooked meanders; 
 
 No resting here; he’s hurry’d back that stays 
 A thought; and he that goes unguided, wanders; 
 
 Her way is dark, her path untrod, unev’n; 
 
 So hard’s the way from Earth; so hard’s the way to Heaven! 
 
 4 . 
 
 * This gyring 2 lab’rinth is betrench’d about 
 On either hand with streams of sulph’rous fire 
 
 Streams closely 3 sliding, erring in and out, 
 
 But seeming pleasant to the fond descrier; 
 
 Where, if his footsteps trust their own invention. 
 
 He falls without redress, and sinks without dimension. 
 
 5 . 
 
 ‘ Where shall I seek a guide ? where shall I meet 
 Some lucky hand to lead my trembling paces ? 
 
 What trusty lantern will direct my feet 
 
 To scape the danger of those daug’rous places ? 
 
 What hopes have I to pass without a guide ? 
 
 Where one gets safely through, a thousand fall beside. 
 
 6 . 
 
 ‘ An unexpected star did gently slide 
 
 Before the wise men, to a greater light; 
 
 Backsliding Isra’l found a double guide; 
 
 A pillar and a cloud—by day, by night; 
 
 Yet in my desp’rate dangers, which be far 
 
 More great than theirs, I have no pillar, cloud, nor star, 
 
 7 . 
 
 * 0 that the pinions of a clipping 4 dove 
 
 Would cut my passage through the empty air; • 
 
 Mine eyes being seal’d, how would I mount above 
 The reach of danger, and forgotten care ! 
 
 My backward eyes should near commit that fault, 
 
 Whose lasting guilt should build a monument of salt. 
 
 8 . 
 
 ‘ Great God, that art the flowing spring of light 
 Enrich mine eyes with thy refulgent ray : 
 
 Thou art my path, direct my steps aright; 
 
 I have no other light, no other way: 
 
 I’ll trust my God, and him alone pursue; 
 
 His law shall be my path, his heavenly light my clue.’ 
 
 * S. August Soliloq,. Cap. iv. 
 
 c 0 Lord, who art the light, the way, the truth, the life; 
 in whom there is no darkness, error, vanity, nor death: the 
 light, without which there is darkness; the way, without which 
 there is wandering; the truth, without which there is error; 
 the life, without which there is death. Say, Lord, Let there 
 be light, and I shall see light, and eschew darkness; I shall 
 see the way, and avoid wandering; I shall see the truth, and 
 shun error; I shall see life, and escape death. Illuminate, 0 
 illuminate my blind soul, which sitteth in darkness, and the 
 shadow of death: and direct my feet in the way of peace.’ 
 
 j ‘ Anfractuous ■? winding about. 
 
 2 ‘Gyring;’ full of turnings. 
 
 3 ‘ Closely;’ slily, secretly. 
 
 4 ‘Clipping;’ swift flying. 
 
S2 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ‘Epig. 2. 
 
 * Pilgrim, trudge on, what makes thy soul complain, 
 
 Crowns thy complaint; the way to rest is pain : 
 
 The road to resolution lies by doubt: 
 
 The next way home’s the farthest way about.’ 
 
 Under the Commonwealth, a great effort was 
 made to purify the Church, by an examination of 
 all those clergymen who, either from profane con¬ 
 duct, ignorance, or want of talent, were a scandal 
 to their profession ; or whose violent attachment to 
 monarchy led them to foment rebellion against the 
 Government, and who were unfit for the work of 
 the ministry; all such were ejected from their 
 livings; and pluralists were strictly limited to one 
 living, the selection being left to themselves. These 
 triers and judges are all named in an ordinance of 
 the Lords and Commons, October 20, 1645, and 
 September 26, 1646. The description of charac¬ 
 ters they were to try, is thus given:— 
 
 ‘ All persons that shall blasphemously speak or write any 
 thing of God, his holy word, or Sacraments. Au incestuous 
 person. An adulterer. A fornicator. A drunkard. A pro¬ 
 fane swearer or curser. One that hath taken away the life of 
 any person maliciously. All worshippers of images. Crosses, 
 Crucifixes, or Reliques ; all that shall make any images of the 
 Trinity, or of any Person thereof. All religious worshippers 
 of Saints, Angels, or any mere creature. Any person that 
 shall profess himself not to he in charity with his neighbour. 
 Any person that shall challenge any other person by word, 
 message, or writing to fight, or that shall accept sucli chal¬ 
 lenge and agree thereto. Any person that shall knowingly 
 carry any such challenge by word, message, or writing. Any 
 person that shall upon the Lord’s day use any dancing, playing 
 at dice, or cards, or any other game; Masking, Wake, Shooting, 
 Rowling, playing at foot-hall, or stool-ball, Wrestling, or that 
 shall make, or resort unto any plays, interludes, fencing, Bull¬ 
 baiting or Bear-baiting, or that shall use hawking, hunting 
 or coursing, fishing or fowling, or that shall publickly expose 
 any wares to sale, otherwise than as is provided by an ordin¬ 
 ance of parliament. Any person that shall travel on the 
 Lord’s Bay without reasonable cause. Any person that 
 keepeth a known stewes or brothel house, or that shall solicit 
 the chastity of any person for himself or any other. Any 
 person, father or mother, that shall consent to the marriage 
 of their child to a papist, or any person that shall marry a 
 papist. Any person that shall repair for any advice unto any 
 witch, wizard, or fortune teller. Any person that shall assault 
 his parents, or any magistrate. Minister, or Elder in the 
 execution of his office. Any person that shall be legally 
 attainted of Burretry, Forgery, Extortion, or Bribery. And 
 the severall and respective Elderships shall have pow T er like¬ 
 wise to suspend from the sacrament of the Lords Supper all 
 ministers that shall be duly proved to be guilty of any of the 
 crimes aforesaid, from giving or receiving the Sacrement of 
 the Lords Supper.’ With power to appeal to the provincial 
 Assembly, to the Nationall, and from thence to the Parliament. 1 
 
 The commissioners, called triers, ejected many 
 from their livings who had been a disgrace to their 
 calling. The character of the clergy was at a 
 very low standard. Bnnyan called them proud, 
 wanton, drunkards, covetous, riding after tithe- 
 
 cocks and handfuls of barley. 2 And the exclusion 
 of such from their livings, has been since called 
 the sufferings of the clergy l To ridicule the efforts 
 of these triers, and, at the same time, some of the 
 Calvinistic doctrines, a small volume xvas pub¬ 
 lished, entitled The Examination of Tilenus in 
 Utopia, London, 1658; said to have been written 
 by Bishop Womack ; 3 and merely because the 
 names of the supposed triers are Dr. Absolute, 
 Mr. Fatality, Mr. Fri-babe, Dr. Damn-man, Mr. 
 Take o’ Trust, Mr. Narrow Grace [Philip Bye], 
 Mr. Know-little [Hugh. Peters], Dr. Dubious [R. 
 Baxter], Ac., therefore it has been asserted 4 that 
 Bunyan must have read and profited by this book, 
 in composing his allegorical works. 
 
 It is neither a ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’a ‘Holy 
 War,’ nor a ‘ Heavenly Footman;’ and to imagine 
 that Bunyan was assisted by this book, merely be¬ 
 cause the triers are named after some doctrinal or 
 practical bias, is as absurd as to suppose that the 
 boys in a grammar-school were aided by Bun¬ 
 yan, because they nick-named their master, ‘Dr. 
 Flog’em,’ for his unmanly and absurd attempts to 
 drive Latin by force into his pupils. 
 
 In the Journal of George Fox, one of the found¬ 
 ers of the Society of Friends, under the year 1659, 
 is the copy of a long letter sent by him to these 
 triers. In this he calls upon them to dismiss all 
 ministers who are ‘ evil beasts, slow bellies, given 
 to wine and filthy lucre, proud, and that have fallen 
 into the condemnation of the devil.’ He instances 
 one Ralph Hollingworth, priest of Phillingham, 
 whose parishioner, Thomas Bromby, a thatcher, 
 having refused to pay a sum under six shillings for 
 tithe-dues, instead of preaching the glad tidings 
 of salvation to him, and his wife and family, sent 
 him to jail, and had then kept him there eight and 
 thirty weeks. 
 
 We now come to a short Pilgrimage, which has 
 in it one feature similar to the perseverance of 
 Christian. It is one of the delightful poems of 
 George Herbert’s, in his pocket volume called The 
 Temple, entitled, 5 6 
 
 The Pilgrimage. 
 
 ‘ I travel on, seeing the bill, where lay 
 My expectation. 
 
 A long it was and weary way 
 The gloomy cave of Desperation 
 I left on the one, and on the other side 
 The rock of Pride. 
 
 2 ‘Vindication of Gospel Truths,’ vol. ii. p. 178. 
 
 3 Southey’s Life of Bunyan, p. 92. 
 
 4 A most intelligent bookseller, and a great admirer of 
 
 Bunyan, lent me two volumes, observing that it was univer¬ 
 sally admitted that the triers had aided our Author; hut if he 
 had ever read the triers, it must have tried his patience, and 
 satisfied him that there was not the slightest ground for such 
 an admission. 
 
 6 Eleventh edition, pp. 185, 130. 
 
 1 An original copy, in possession of the Editor, pp. 5-7. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 53 
 
 c Aud so I came to Phansies meadows strewed 
 "With many a flower; 
 
 Fain would I here have made abode. 
 
 Put I was quicken’d by my hour. 
 
 So to cares cops I came, and there got through 
 With much ado. 
 
 ' That led me to the wild of Passion; which 
 Some call the w r orld; 
 
 A wasted place, but sometimes rich. 
 
 Here I was robb’d of all my gold, 
 
 Save one good Angel, 1 which a friend had ti’d 
 Close to my side. 
 
 * At length I got unto the gladsom hill. 
 
 Where lay my hope. 
 
 Where lay my heart; and climbing still, 
 
 W hen I had gain’d the brow and top, 
 
 A lake of brackish waters on the ground 
 Was all I found. 
 
 ‘ With that abash’d and struck with many a sting, 
 
 Of swarming fears, 
 
 I fell, and cry’d, Alas my King! 
 
 Can both the way and end be tears ? 
 
 Yet taking heart, I rose, and then perceiv’d 
 I was deceived. 
 
 * My hill was further: So I slung away, 
 
 Yet heard a cry 
 
 Just as I went, None goes that wag 
 And lives: If that be all, said I, 
 
 After so foul a Journey death is fair, 
 
 And but a chair.’ 
 
 The only similarity is that Christian goes up the hill Diffi¬ 
 culty ; he hears the cry of Timorous and Mistrust:—‘ Just 
 before us lie a couple of lions; if we came within reach, they 
 would presently pull us in pieces.’ Christian’s reply was— 
 ‘ If I go back, I shall perish. If I can get to the celestial 
 city, I am sure to be in safety there. I must venture.’ 
 
 A Dialogue between Life and Death. Very requisite 
 for the contemplation of all transitory Pilgrims, 
 and pious-minded Christians. 1657. 
 
 r lh:s little book consists of only twenty-four 
 leaves, and might have been seen by Bunyan as a 
 religious tract previous to his writing the ‘ Pil¬ 
 grim’s Progress.’ It contains nothing allegorical 
 as to pilgrimages, nor any idea that could have 
 assisted our author in composing his great work. 
 
 It is a Dance of Death, illustrated with very rude cuts, and 
 printed with a homely rhyme to each. 
 
 A Spiritual Jou.rrwy of a young man towards the 
 Land of Peace to live essentially in God, who 
 met in his journey with three sorts of dispute. 
 With some proverbs or sentences, which the 
 old age spake to the young man. Also a 
 Spiritual Dialogue, whereunto is annexed a 
 round or chorus dance, whereunto the vain 
 heathenish lusts, with their wicked confused 
 
 1 ‘ Angel;’ a gold coin, in value one-third of the ancient 
 
 sovereign 
 
 loose minds and thoughts (as well in confusion 
 as in a show of holiness), assemble from all 
 corners of the earth, and dancing hand in 
 hand, skip and jump to Hell. Translated out 
 of Dutch. London, printed by J. Macock, 
 1659. Small 4to. 
 
 There is nothing allegorical in this volume; it consists of 
 disputations, proverbs, and dialogues, the whole intent of which 
 is to show that an illuminated uniform spirit must be sought, 
 not from the Bible, but from inward light, and that to seek 
 knowledge from the Scripurcs without that spirit is like jour¬ 
 neying by night with a lantern in which there is no light— 
 fighting with a scabbard without a sword—quenching thirst 
 with a vessel in which is no wine, or being coutented, when 
 hungry, with a cupboard or bin without bread. 
 
 Reading’s Gidde to the Holy City; or, Directions and 
 Helps to an Holy Life. 4to, Oxford, 1657. 
 
 i 
 
 | 
 
 The Pilgrim's Pass to the New Jerusalem. By 
 M. R. Gent, London, 1659, small 8vo. 
 
 This volume contains a series of meditations on passages of 
 Scripture, intended to convey the consolations of a good hope, 
 through faith in the Redeemer, to his pilgrims. It contains 
 nothing allegorical. 
 
 Pordage’s Mundorum Explicatio , or the Explanation 
 of an Hieroglyphical Figure; wherein are 
 couched the mysteries of the Eternal, Inter¬ 
 nal, and External Worlds, showing the true 
 progress of a Soul from the Court of Babylon 
 to the City of Jerusalem ; from the Adamical 
 fallen state, to the regenerate and Angelical. 
 A Sacred Poem. 8vo, 1661. 
 
 There is nothing allegorical in these volumes. 
 
 Jesus, Maria, Joseph; or. The devout Pilgrim to the 
 ever blessed Virgin Mary. 12mo, Amsterdam, 
 1663. 
 
 This is a mere guide to devotees, in their approaches to the 
 Virgin Mary. 
 
 Philothea's Pilgrimage to Perfection. Described in 
 a Practice of Ten Days’ Solitude. By Brother 
 John of the Holy Cross, Frier Minour. Small 
 8vo, Bruges, 1668 . 2 
 
 A rare volume, published during the time that 
 Bunyan was writing his ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ;’ and 
 it is not at all probable that he saw this Roman 
 Catholic production ; but if he had seen and read 
 it, he could not have gleaned a hint to use in his 
 wondrous ‘Dream.’ It is dedicated to the Countess 
 Dow r ager of Sussex. 
 
 In this, Brother John Cross has made a wonderful discovery 
 —that countesses, being the more refined images of God, above 
 the vulgar, have, by their noble descent, a clearer aptness to 
 
 2 In the Editor’s library. 
 
54 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 sublime thoughts and actions! What could such a man have 
 thought of the son of a carpenter, of fishermen, of publicans, 
 of tent-makers, or of tinkers ? The pilgrim’s name is ‘ Philo- 
 thea;’ she enters on her pilgrimage with the author’s good 
 wishes, expressed in the language of Holy Toby: ‘ Walk well , 
 God be in thy way, and his holy Angell accompany Thee .’ 
 The journey is divided into ten days’ solitary employment, that 
 the pilgrim might be ravished into the heavenly paradise, to 
 hear and see what we are loath to leave and cannot utter. To 
 attain this, very minute directions are given as to time, place, 
 posture of body, method, choice of a guide, &c. The guide he 
 describes as ‘ a medicine of life and immortality.’ * Woe be to 
 him that is alone,’ says Brother John, probably feeling under 
 his state of celibacy. His qualification is knowledge, charity, 
 and discretion; he will securely lead thee to rest and peace. 
 Her exercises are to be vocal prayer, reading spiritual books, 
 corporal mortifications, and manual labour ; use only one meal 
 a day; to this, add a hair cloth next the skin, and occasional 
 floggings. These are general instructions, which are followed 
 by objects for meditation on each day’s journey, so as to 
 arrive at perfection in ten days; solitude, humility and auster¬ 
 ity, patience and charity, vileness by sin, the sacrament, mor¬ 
 tification, flight from earth, spiritual life, God speaking to man, 
 love’s ascents and descents, the soul’s repose in God, union 
 with Christ, and ending with meditations upon the Passions. 
 
 An Hue and Cry after Conscience; or, The Pil¬ 
 grims Progress by Candle-Light, in Search after 
 Honesty and Plain Dealing . Represented un¬ 
 der the Similitude of a Where¬ 
 
 in is discovered the The Pritty manner of his 
 settino; out. His Pleasant Humours on his 
 Journey. The Disappointment he met with 
 after all his Search. Together with his flight 
 at last into another Country, where he is still 
 on his Rambles. Written by John Dunton. 
 1685, 18mo. 
 
 The advertisement to the reader says, that, as the author’s 
 previous work was of the pilgrim’s journey to an heavenly 
 country, so now of all sorts of wicked pilgrims, of either sex, 
 that are either posting directly to hell, or madly dancing and 
 frolicking upon the brink of destruction. Progressing by 
 candle-light, all manner of vice and roguery is painted to the 
 life, in its proper colours; and then brought to light as a fatal 
 spectacle to the thinking and gazing part of mankind, together 
 with the most eminent cheats of all trades and professions. 
 
 This is a display of vice, villany, and deceit of every descrip¬ 
 tion, without any continuous plot; and it adds one to a thou¬ 
 sand proofs of the degraded and debauched state of society in 
 the reign of Charles II., and of our happy exemption from 
 such scenes. Morality and purity have extended, as voluntary 
 efforts to spread Divine truth increased; awful was the state 
 of society when none but state-paid priests were permitted to 
 teach the glad tidings of salvation. 1 
 
 Bishop P atrick’s Parable of the Pilgrim. 4to, 16 87. 
 
 Whoever has patience to wade through ten pages 
 of Bishop Patrick’s Parable, must be fully con¬ 
 vinced that his Lordship’s limping and unwieldy 
 
 1 A copy of this book is preserved in Dunton’s Works, 
 
 No. 700, A 3, in the British Museum. 
 
 Pilgrim will never be able, with all his hobbling, 
 to overtake, or even to get within sight of John 
 Bunyan by many a thousand miles—a striking 
 proof that exquisite natural ability casts a brighter 
 and more captivating lustre, than the deepest ac¬ 
 quired parts. The bishop’s Pilgrim has only one 
 description which has the slightest similarity to 
 Bunyan’s style. 
 
 A gentleman rides up to the pilgrims, e very civil and invit¬ 
 ing,’ but they observed that he had a sword by his side, and a 
 pair of pistols before him, together with another instrument 
 hanging at his belt, which was formed for pulling out of eyes. 
 They told him—‘ We are strongly possessed against those who 
 would make us believe we cannot see our way unless w r e let 
 them pull out our eyes, and who are not content to labour by 
 reason to bring them to their bent, but shoot them to death 
 if they stiffly refuse, as if they were but rogues and thieves.’ 
 The learned bishop does not approve of the Roman Catholics 
 using force, pulling out of eyes, or shooting churchmen; while, 
 at that very time, his own church, if dissenters refused, to use 
 his own phrase, to have their eyes pulled out, sent them to 
 prison, tormented them, and, in some cases, they hung, drew, 
 and quartered them! On getting rid of him, another man, 
 more sad and melancholy, crossed their way, with a dagger by 
 his side and a pistol peeping out of his pocket—he represents 
 the Presbyterians or Independents; and to him the Episcopalian 
 says, ‘ I retain my own eyes, but use also those of “ the Con¬ 
 ductors of Souls; and am glad wit h all mine heart that I have 
 met with one both to teach and to watch over me.” Your 
 dagger will soon grow to a sword; you pretend to liberty, and 
 will give none.’ How true is the saying, “ with what judg¬ 
 ment ye judge ye shall be judged.” ’ 
 
 The very crime which the learned bishop imputes 
 to others, was most prominently his own ; for at 
 that time no Church was more hostile to the Chris¬ 
 tian’s duty of seeing with his own eyes, or judging 
 for himself from a personal examination of the 
 Sacred Scriptures. The bishop exclaims against 
 those who persecuted his Church, but veils the in¬ 
 famous Protestant persecutions by which that same 
 Church was spotted as with a leprosy. 
 
 After all, Patrick, with some excellencies, is but 
 a sorry pedlar, dealing in damaged wares; for, in¬ 
 stead of Christian experience formed from Scrip¬ 
 ture, we find scraps from the philosophers and 
 heathen mythology. Patrick and Bunyan were 
 writing their pilgrims about the same time: they do 
 not appear to have anything in common. Patrick 
 was a learned man, and his elaborate work re¬ 
 quires the pains to read it which he took in its 
 composition ; while Bunyan’s story flowed freely 
 from his rich imagination, and the reader enjoys 
 it with the same flowing pleasure. 
 
 The sixth edition of the Parable of the Pilgrim 
 has a finely executed frontispiece, representing a 
 pilgrim leaving a city, and going a roundabout 
 way to the New Jerusalem, which shines forth in 
 the clouds. 2 
 
 2 London, 1687. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 55 
 
 Patrick’s Pilgrim , slightly abridged, was pub¬ 
 lished in the Englishman’s Library; and still more 
 abridged, in a neat pocket volume, at Oxford, by 
 Parker. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHICAL ACCOUNT OP THE EDITIONS OF THE ‘PIL¬ 
 GRIM s progress’ published during the author’s 
 
 LIFE, AVITH NOTICES OF THE MORE PROMINENT MODERN 
 
 EDITIONS. 
 
 The first edition of the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’ 
 was published in a foolscap 8vo, in 1678. ° This 
 volume is of extraordinary rarity; only one copy 
 being known to exist, and that in the most beau¬ 
 tiful preservation, in the original binding, clean 
 and perfect. It was discovered in a nobleman’s 
 library, and, judging from its appearance, had 
 never been read. It is noiv in the cabinet of 
 II. S. Holford, Esq., of Weston Birt House, Tet- 
 bury, Gloucestershire. To that gentleman the 
 public are deeply indebted for his liberal permis¬ 
 sion, given to me on behalf of the Hanserd Knollys 
 Society, not only to copy it for publication by that 
 Society, but also to correct the proof-sheets of the 
 edition by a careful comparison of them with the 
 original. Having with great care and labour 
 edited that edition, I can certify that it is an 
 accurate reprint, not merely verbal, hut literal, 
 including the punctuation, and the use of capitals 
 and italics. The volume contains 253 pages, with 
 a black-letter head-line. It has no portrait or 
 cuts. In it are some words and sentences which 
 Avere omitted in all the subsequent editions until 
 that in 1847, by the Ilanserd Knollys Society. 
 
 The second edition Avas published also in the 
 year 1678. The title is nearly similar to the 
 first, with the Avords, ‘ The second Edition, with 
 Additions.’ And to this very considerable addi¬ 
 tions had been made. A copy of this book, Avanting 
 the verses at the end, is in the British Museum ; 
 and a A’ery fine and perfect one is in the library 
 of W. B. Gurney, Esq., Denmark Hill . 1 It is 
 comprised in 276 pages, and lias no portrait or 
 cuts. It has many more typographical errors 
 than the first edition, but the spelling is greatly 
 modernized and improved. 
 
 The third edition appeared in the following 
 year, 1679, by the same publishers. A most 
 beautiful copy of this rare volume, bound in olive 
 morocco, to all appearance neAA r , is in the library 
 of the Rev. * * * 2 
 
 It contains 287 pages, Avith a portrait of the 
 
 author, engraved by R. W[hite]. f. marked upon 
 the rock, but no other cut or illustration. This 
 portrait is Avell engraved, and a credit to the emi¬ 
 nent artist, aa4io was a personal friend of Mr. 
 Bunyan’s. It is very superior to the miserable 
 imitations Avhich ornamented later editions. In 
 this a considerable addition Avas made; and this 
 completed the allegory. From that time to the 
 author’s decease, every edition presents some little 
 additions of side-notes or references. 
 
 The fourth edition is by the same publishers, in 
 1680 ; it contains 288 pages, and has the portrait. 
 A copy of this is in the Editor’s possession. An¬ 
 other copy of this same edition, lent to me by Mr. 
 Pickering, bookseller, Piccadilly, has on the back 
 of the portrait, An Advertisement from the Book¬ 
 seller :— 
 
 * Tl ie Pilgrims Progress , having sold several Impressions, 
 and with good Acceptation among the People, (there are some 
 malicious men of our profession of lewd principles, hating 
 honesty, and Coveting other mens rights, and which we call 
 Land Pirates, one of this society is Thomas Bradyl, a Printer, 
 who I actually found printing my Book for himself, and five 
 more of his Confederates,) but in truth he hath so abominably 
 and basely falcified the true Copie, and changed the Notes, 
 that they have abused the Author in the sence, and the Pro- 
 priator of his right (and if it doth steal abroad, they put a 
 cheat upon the people). You may distinguish it thus, The 
 Notes are Printed in Long Primer, a base old letter, almost 
 worn out, hardly to be read, and such is the Book it self. 
 Whereas the true Copie is Printed in a Leigable fair Character 
 and Brevier Notes as it alwaies has been, this Fourth Edi¬ 
 tion hath, as the third had, the Authors picture before the 
 Title, and hath more then 22 passages of Additions, pertinently 
 placed quite thorow the Book, which the Counterfeit hath not. 
 
 ‘j. p: 
 
 * This is Brevier, and the true 
 Copy.’ 
 
 ‘ This is Long Primer 
 Letter. ’ 
 
 The same book AA’as lent to Tlics. Scott by Mrs. Gurney, 
 Holbom. See Preface to the * Pilgrim’s Progress, Avith Notes, 
 bv the Rev. Thomas Scott.’ 
 
 J Lent to me by my worthy friend, Mr. Leslie, Bookseller, 
 Great Queen Street. 
 
 The additions alluded to are quotations from 
 Scripture, and side-notes. Dunton had a high 
 opinion of Braddyll, and calls him a first-rate 
 printer, active, diligent, and religious. 3 Ponder 
 certainly did not unite in these encomiums. 
 
 The fifth edition is also by Ponder, and Avas 
 published in 1680; it contains 221 pages. This 
 has the portrait, and one Avoodcut on page 128— 
 the Martyrdom of Faithful, Avith the verse beneath. 
 A fine copy is in possession of my excellent friend 
 Mr. Pickering. 
 
 The sixth has not been found in a perfect state. 
 
 The seventh, in very beautiful preservation, is 
 in the library of R. B. Sherring, Esq., Bristol. It 
 Avas published by Ponder, 1681, containing 286 
 pages, handsomely printed, Avith the portrait, and 
 the cut of the Martyrdom of Faithful, on a separate 
 leaf betAveen the pages 164 and 165. It Avas a 
 copy of this edition Avhich Bunyau used in writing 
 
 3 Life and Errors of John Dunton. 
 
56 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 his Second Part, all the references in which, 
 made to the First Part, correspond with this edi¬ 
 tion. On the hack of the portrait is a manuscript 
 memorandum, that the book was given to Thos. 
 Hayward Aug., 1682. Pretium Is. 6d. 
 
 There were two eighth editions in 1682 ; they 
 have 211 pages, and two leaves of a list of ‘Books,’ 
 printed for Ponder, the publisher. A fine copy 
 of one of these is in Sion College Library; and 
 the other, somewhat imperfect, is in the Editor s 
 possession. On the back of the frontispiece is the 
 following Advertisement: — 
 
 ‘ The Pilgrims Progress having found good Acceptation 
 among the People to the carrying off a Seventh Impression, 
 which had many Additions, more than any preceding: and the 
 Publisher observing, that many persons desired to have it 
 illustrated with Pictures, hath endeavoured to gratifie them 
 therein; And, besides those that are ordinarily Printed to the 
 fifth Impression, hath provided Thirteen Copper Cuts curiously 
 Engraven for such as desire them.’ 
 
 Of these cuts, which were sold for one shilling, 
 nothing is known, unless they are the set of neat 
 engravings inserted, four in a sheet, in Chandler 
 and Wilson’s edition of Bunyan’s Works, 2 vols. 
 folio, 1737, very fine impressions of which appeared 
 in an early German translation, published in Lon¬ 
 don, under which are the English verses ; they are 
 sixteen in number, but if the three ‘ that are ordin¬ 
 arily printed to the eighth impression ’ be deducted, 
 the number then agrees with the advertisement. 
 The whole of these designs were cut in wood, and 
 with the verses were printed in the thirteenth 
 edition. 
 
 This eighth edition looks as if it was printed 
 with a Dutch type; sheet D, pp. 49—72, differs 
 from the rest of the volume, and it is very singular, 
 that in the two following editions the same differ¬ 
 ence is found in sheet D, which is a sharper type, 
 and more closely printed. 
 
 Gay, in his What-d'ye-caU it ? a farce, repre¬ 
 sents a man about to be shot, when a countryman 
 offers him a book to pray by; he takes it, and 
 says;— 
 
 * 1 will, I will. 
 
 ‘ Lend me thy handkercher. [Reads and weeps.] “ The Pil¬ 
 grim’s Pro—” 
 
 ‘ I cannot see for tears! “ Pro— Progress,”—Oh! 
 
 ‘ “ The Pilgrim’s Progress—eighth—edi-ti-on, 
 
 Lon-don—print-ed—for—Ni-cho-las Bod-ding-ton: 
 
 With new ad-di-tions never made before,” 
 
 Oh 1 ’tis so moving, I can read no more! ’ 
 
 This farce was first acted in 1715, and proves that 
 the ‘ Pilgrim ’ was then a most popular religious 
 book. The late Mr. Heber, and Mr. Wilson, sup¬ 
 posed that this referred,not to the eighth by Ponder, 
 but to the eighteenth edition, which was printed for 
 N. Boddington; but might it not more probably re¬ 
 fer to the eighth edition of the ‘ Pilgrim,’ Part II., 
 
 which was printed by that celebrated publisher, a 
 fine copy of which is in the Editor s collection ? 
 
 There are two ninth editions, both bearing the 
 imprint of N. Ponder; the first of these is dated 
 1683, 212 pages. A copy of this is in the Editor’s 
 library, and another in possession of L. Pocock, 
 Esq., Montague Street. It has a different portrait, 
 but the same woodcuts as the eighth, with the addi¬ 
 tion of Doubting Castle on p. 14o, numbered 13 j. 
 
 Another and distinct edition is called the ninth, 
 also by N. Ponder, with the same cuts as the 
 last, on 212 pages, but with a different type; this 
 bears the date of 1684. A copy is in the exten¬ 
 sive library of Joshua Wilson, Esq., Highbury. 
 On the back of the portrait there is the advertise¬ 
 ment of the thirteen copper plates, in addition to 
 those ‘ ordinarily printed to the eighth impression. 
 
 The tenth edition, by Ponder, 1685, on 200 
 pages, is in the Editor s collection. In the title 
 the name is spelt Bunian, but he signs the Apo¬ 
 logy as usual, Bunyan. This has the frontispiece, 
 and two woodcuts only; that of Doubting Castle is 
 omitted. On the reverse of the title is this Adver¬ 
 tisement : 
 
 The Pilgrims Progress from this World to that which is 
 to come ; The Second Part: delivered under the similitude of 
 a Bream , 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, by John Bunian. 
 
 I have used Similitudes, lios. 12. 10. Price One Shilling, 
 
 The eleventh edition was in 1688, as advertised 
 at the end of ‘ The Water of Life.’ 
 
 Twelfth, in the Editor’s collection, dated 1689, 
 also by Ponder. 
 
 The thirteenth edition has fourteen woodcuts, with 
 the verses under each; the last of which affords a 
 curious proof of the extreme carelessness with which 
 this popular work was published. This cut, in the 
 former copies, represented the pilgrims triumph¬ 
 antly rising on the clouds to the Celestial City, 
 attended by angels, with a crown over Christian, 
 and under this was a suitable verse. Imagine this 
 cut exchanged for one in which you see the two pil¬ 
 grims in distress,wading through the river of death; 
 one sinking in despair, the other standing firm, and 
 holding his companion’s chin above water; and you 
 read, under this picture, the same verse that was 
 placed under that of their triumphal ascent:— 
 
 ‘Now, now, look how the holy Pilgrims rise; 
 
 Clouds are their Chariots. Angels are their Guide.’ 
 
 A more complete travesty could hardly have been 
 devised. 
 
 Bunyan gives a hint, in the verses with which 
 the First Part is concluded, of his intention to con¬ 
 tinue the allegory. This was not done until 1684, 
 and the great popularity of liis work induced un¬ 
 worthy men to publish continuations, intended to 
 cheat the public into a belief that they came from 
 
INTRODUCTION BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 57 
 
 the pen of Bunyan. lie thus warns the public, 
 in the verses prefixed to the Second Part:— 
 
 * ’Tis true, some have, of late, to Counterfeit 
 
 My Pilgrim, to their own, my Title set; 
 
 Yea, others, half my name and Title too; 
 
 Have stitched to their Books, to make them do; 
 
 But yet they, by their Features , do declare 
 
 Themselves not mine to be, whose ere they are.’ 
 
 No trace has been found of the book or books 
 which appeared before 1684, under Bunyan’s ini¬ 
 tials or half his name. The only counterfeit which 
 has been discovered is in the library of the Baptist 
 Mission House, wanting the frontispiece. 1 It was 
 published under the following title:—‘The Second 
 Part of the from this 
 
 present World of Wickedness and Misery to an 
 eternity of Holiness and Felicity, exactly described 
 under the similitude of a Dream, (fee. They were 
 Strangers and Pilgrims on Earthy Heb. xi. 13—16. 
 Let us lay aside every weight and the sin that doth 
 so easily beset us, Heb. xii. 7. London, for Thomas 
 Malthus at the Sun in the Poultry 1683.’ The 
 frontispiece has two whole-length portraits, one 
 sleeping with his head resting on his hand—both 
 in clerical garb. 
 
 The author dedicates, with some pomp, his little work to 
 Jehovah, and signs it T. S. There are two poems at the end 
 of the volume by It. B., and the author’s Apology for his 
 Book. It is very probable, from this Apology, that the author 
 was one of those who, when consulted about publishing Bun- 
 yan’s first Part, said, ‘No.’ He calls Bunyan’s volume ‘a 
 necessary and useful tract, which hath deservedly obtained such 
 an universal esteem and commendationand he then destroys 
 all his commendation by discovering a four-fold defect in that 
 discourse: First, nothing is said of man in his first creation ; 
 second, nor of his misery in his lapsed state, before conversion; 
 third, briefly passing over Divine goodness in reconciling sin¬ 
 ners; and, fourthly, the reading of it occasioned, in vain and 
 lrothy minds, lightness and laughter. 
 
 Such carping criticism is utterly unworthy of comment. 
 Bunyan finds his pilgrim fallen from his first creation into a 
 slate of misery, and under a sense of his danger, crying, ‘What 
 shall I do to be saved?’ He unfolds, in multitudinous variety, 
 instances of Divine goodness in reconciling sinners, and almost 
 irresistibly leads his reader to accompany the poor pilgrim in his 
 way to the celestial city, full of the solemnity of his heavenly 
 calling. 
 
 Who the author of this Pit grimes Progress is, it may be 
 difficult to ascertain. He dreams that multitudes are dancing 
 in the broad way to misery, and only two or three toiling 
 on the narrow up-hill path to happiness. He accounts for 
 this, first, from infant baptism leading them to imagine that 
 they are in the right path, and that no profaneness can 
 prevent them attaining that eternal inheritance which they 
 vainly imagine to be a right conferred upon them in their 
 christening; secondly, they delight in sin; thirdly, preferring 
 to go to hell with a multitude, rather than to heaven with a 
 few; fourthly, because their reward is of merit, and not of 
 gift; fifthly, * many refuse the narrow way because of its sim¬ 
 plicity: they must have their glorious colleges and splendid j 
 ministers, their beautiful quires, and raised altars, with hang- 
 
 1 A perfect copy is also in the Editor’s library. 
 
 VOL. IH. 
 
 1 in ? s of arras and tapestry, furnished with the finest silver and 
 gold of Ophir, a gaudy and pompous worship and musick to 
 delight their spirits,’ &c. He found these people dancing with 
 mirth and jollity round a bottomless pit to the outcries and 
 screeches of the damned, and playing with the flames of hell. 
 One of these madmen becomes alarmed at the preaching of 
 j Boanerges, and Conscience and Judgment do their utmost to 
 terrify him. Then comes Affection, and promises the poor peni¬ 
 tent wings to fly above the clouds. Will huff's and hectors, and 
 must have him leave off canting and whining; but after a long 
 dialogue. Will consents to go on pilgrimage. They meet with 
 Apollyon, and have other adventures: a poor, spiritless copy 
 of the inimitable First Part by Bunyan. After passing more 
 than half his pilgrimage, his old heart is taken out, and a new 
 one given to him. Under the idea of a feast, where the guests 
 are fed on dishes of gospel mysteries, sauced with eternity, the 
 author states his peculiar notions, lie at length arrives at the 
 River; Faith and Hope support him; he is received by the 
 Shining Ones, and enters the city. In all probability, this 
 book never reached a second edition, being totally eclipsed by 
 the real Second Part, in 16S4. 
 
 The author of this forgery, in his Apology, refers 
 to a custom among the Puritans of giving the 
 mourners at a funeral a hook instead of rings, 
 gloves, wine, or biscuit. ‘ This,’ he says, ‘ would 
 prevent trifling discourse, as is too commonly used 
 on such occasions. Among those few who have 
 practised this, abundance of good hath been done 
 by that means; and who knows, were it more 
 generally used at our burials, what good might be 
 effected thereby ? ’ 2 
 
 At length, in 1684, Bunyan published the 
 Second Part of his ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ in a 
 similar volume to his first. It has 224 pages. 
 For the use of a fine copy of this rare book, we 
 are indebted to the kindness of the executors of the 
 late Lea Wilson, Esq. In this volume seven pages 
 are in a larger type than the rest, from p. 100 to 
 106 inclusive; p. 106 is numbered 120. It has 
 only one cut—the dance round the head of Giant 
 Despair. The next edition which we have been 
 fortunate enough to obtain has a similar title to 
 the first; it has no indication of what edition it is, 
 but bears the date of 1687. These two editions 
 were published by N. Ponder in the Poultry. The 
 sixth edition appeared in 1693, by Ponder and Bod- 
 
 1 One of these books is the memorial of a most valuable 
 
 Seventh-day Baptist: The Last Legacy of Mr. Joseph Davis , 
 who departed this Life, Feb. 1G, 170f, being a Brief Account 
 of the most Material Circumstances of his Life and Profession. 
 Written by himself, and given at his Funeral to his Friends 
 and Acquaintances, &c. Within a black border. Another 
 book used for this purpose was Dr. Bates’s Everlasting Rest 
 of the Saints in Heaven. My copy has, within a black bor¬ 
 der, * In remembrance of Mrs. Mary Cross, the late wife of 
 Mr. John Cross, &c. &c. This book she had a particular 
 respect for; and therefore it is hoped it will by her Friends 
 be more acceptable than Gloves.’ It is bound in black, with 
 a gilt skull and cross-bones on the cover. Another of these 
 volumes was Dr. Bates’s Four Last Things , with his Portrait. 
 On the title is printed, ‘Recommended as proper to be given 
 at Funerals.’ Second edition, 1691. It is dedicated to 
 Rachel Lady Russel. See the bookseller’s advertisement, as 
 to custom of giving a book at funerals. 
 
 8 
 
58 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 dington, in Duck Lane; the seventh in 1G96, by 
 Ponder; the eighth b} r Boddiugton, in 1702 ; the 
 ninth is by N. Boddington, at the Golden Ball, in 
 Duck Lane, 1708. 1 
 
 Since that time, innumerable editions have issued 
 from the press; but before giving a short account 
 of the most prominent of these, we must not forget 
 an impudent forgery, called the Third Part of this 
 popular allegory. 
 
 It was probably the intention of Bunyan to write 
 a Third Part. Christian’s four boys, with their 
 wives and children, are represented as remaining to 
 be a blessing; to the church. Pie closes his Second 
 Part with these words : ‘Should 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, Adieu.' His design might 
 have been to display the difficulties of maintaining 
 a course according to godliness in the busy scenes 
 of life, among mechanics, tradesmen, and others. 
 His death, in 1688, cut short his labours. 
 
 The extensive circulation of Bunyan’s Works, 
 and his extraordinary fame as an author, excited 
 the cupidity of contemptible scribblers to forge his 
 name to productions quite unworthy of his great 
 / natural and acquired talent. He had scarcely 
 entered into rest, before a tract appeared, which 
 might, from its title, have imposed upon those not 
 well acquainted with his style of writing. It is a 
 quarto tract, entitled, ‘The Saint’s Triumph, or 
 The Glory of the Saints with Jesus Christ. De¬ 
 scribing the joys and comforts a believer reaps in 
 heaven, after his painful pilgrimage and sufferings 
 on earth. With weighty encouragements to draw 
 poor doubting Christians to Christ. Laying open 
 the main lets and hinderances which keep them 
 from him. With helps to recover God’s favour. 
 To which is added; The Glorious Resurrection in 
 the last day, for them that sleep in Jesus Christ. 
 Discoursed in a Divine ejaculation, by J.B. With 
 a bold woodcut portrait of John Bunyan on the 
 title-page. London Bridge, printed for J. Blare, at 
 the Looking Glass, 1688.’ Neither the style, nor 
 sentiments, nor the use of Latin quotations, have 
 the slightest similarity to our great author’s works. 
 
 In a very few years there was published:— 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress, <Pc., the Third Part—to 
 which is added, The Life and Death of John 
 Bunyan, Author of the First and Second Part: 
 this compleating the whole Progress. 
 
 This Third Part made its appearance in 1692 ; 
 and although the title does not directly say that 
 it was written by Bunyan, yet it was at first gene¬ 
 rally received as such. In 1695, 2 it reached a 
 
 1 All these editions are in the Editor’s library. 
 
 2 The first edition is in the British Museum, hut it has 
 
 no title. The Life which is appended to it has the date 1692. 
 
 second edition, and a sixth in 1705. In 1708, it 
 was denounced in the title to the seventh edition 
 of the Second Part, by a ‘ Note, the Tldrd Part, 
 suggested to be J. Bunyan’s, is an imposture.’ It is 
 surprising that so contemptible a production could 
 for one moment have been received by the public 
 as written by Bunyan. The late Rev. John New¬ 
 ton, in very happy language, asserts that ‘ a com¬ 
 mon hedge-stake deserves as much to be compared 
 with Aaron’s rod, which yielded blossoms and 
 almonds, as this poor performance to be obtruded 
 upon the world as the production of Bunyan.’ 3 
 Dr. Ryland justly observes, that ‘ when the anony¬ 
 mous scribbler of the Third Part of the Pilgrim’s 
 Progress tried to obtrude his stuff on the world as 
 the production of Mr. Bunyan, the cheat was soon 
 discovered ; every Christian of taste could see the 
 difference as easily as we can discern the superior 
 excellence of a Raphael or a Titian from the pro¬ 
 ductions of a common dauber: and we can as 
 easily distinguish Bunyan from all other writers, 
 as we can discern the difference between the finest 
 cambric and a piece of hop-sacking.’ 4 The author 
 of this forgery is as yet unknown. 
 
 A much more respectable attempt was recently 
 made towards a Third Part, under the title of 
 ‘ Pilgrims of the nineteenth century ; a continua¬ 
 tion of the “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” upon the plan 
 projected by Mr. Bunyan. Containing a history 
 of a visit to the town of Toleration; with an ac¬ 
 count of its charter, and a description of the prin¬ 
 ciples and customs of its inhabitants. Under the 
 similitude of a dream. By Joseph Ivimey. 1827.’ 
 The object of this volume is to show the advan¬ 
 tages which resulted from the Act of Toleration, 
 by the adventures of Christian’s children ; but 
 what they had to do with the nineteenth century, 
 may be difficult to ascertain. It is full of political 
 allusions, and proclaims the author’s peculiar sen¬ 
 timents. Bunyan’s object was to win souls to 
 Christ, under the influence of whose presence the 
 most higlily-liberal principles, both political and re¬ 
 ligious, will be fostered. Intolerance, fanaticism, 
 and bigotry fly from the presence of the Saviour 
 as naturally as the shades of night vanish before 
 the rising sun. There is much valuable and inter¬ 
 esting information in Mr. Ivimey’s volume to Pro¬ 
 testant dissenters, but even that is much encum¬ 
 bered. He is so delighted with Toleration as 
 almost to forget that it is only one step towards 
 liberty. When Christianity shall have spread its 
 genial influences over our rulers, all sects will be 
 equally cherished in running the race of benevo¬ 
 lence and charity; then the burning of Christians 
 
 3 Preface to the first edition of the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ 
 with Mr. Newton’s Notes. 12mo, London, 1776. Many 
 I times reprinted. 
 
 j 4 Prelace to Bunyan’s Works. Svo, 1792. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 59 
 
 for their obedience to God, or tolerating them to 
 love and worship their Maker, according to the 
 dictates of their consciences, but still compelling 
 them to support what is in their conviction Anti¬ 
 christian, will he equally wondered at as gigantic 
 grievances, and an intolerant abuse of governing 
 powers. 
 
 Formally years the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ was 
 continually printed on very ordinary paper, and 
 innumerable were the copies that issued from the 
 press ; the woodcuts, when worn out, were replaced 
 by an inferior set. Each Part was published separ¬ 
 ately, in the ordinary shilling chap-book form ; 
 these are sometimes met with bound together, and 
 forming a stout volume. Thus Part First, twenty- 
 second edition, with new cuts, 1727, with Part 
 Second, the thirteenth edition, with five cuts and 
 a note, stating that the Third Part is an imposture; 
 and then Part Third, thirteenth edition, 1743. 
 Another copy has Part First, the twenty-thirc. 
 edition, 1731; Part Second, the fourteenth edition, 
 1728; and Part Third, the twelfth edition, not 
 dated. The first edition of the Three Parts, uni¬ 
 formly printed, which has fallen under our notice, 
 is by J. Clarke, 1743; a MS. memorandum gives 
 the price of the volume, Is. 6d. The most wretched 
 set of cuts are to an edition printed for D. Bunyan, 
 in Fleet Street; another, with similar cuts, is 
 sold b}" J. Bunyan above the Monument, meaning 
 higher up Fish Street Hill than where the Monu¬ 
 ment stands. In 1728, there appeared a hand¬ 
 some edition of the Two Parts, ‘Adorned with 
 curious sculptures by J. Sturt.’ The editor of 
 that edition states, that the former were printed 
 for the poorer sort at a cheap rate [in a small 
 type], so that many worthy Christians by age and 
 infirmities were deprived of the benefit of it.° This 
 was duly weighed by persons of distinction and 
 piety, who determined to have it handsomely 
 printed, and they generously contributed, by large 
 subscriptions, to secure its being a correct edition. 
 In comparison with all that had preceded it, this 
 shone forth an elegant 8vo volume, fit, at that 
 period, to ornament any library or drawing-room. 
 The engravings are from the old designs, and well 
 executed. This was for many years considered to 
 be the standard edition, and was frequently re¬ 
 printed; in 1/ to, two editions of this volume were 
 published, after which that with Mason’s Notes 
 supeiseded it. W ho the editor was is not known; 
 but this book very sadly abounds with gross errors. 
 When Faithful joined Christian, in the conversation 
 about the old man who offered Faithful his three 
 daughters, the editor has altered it to ‘ one of 
 them. In Part II. p. G3, * lines ’ is put for ‘lions;’ 
 another and very serious error occurs in the cate¬ 
 chising of James by Prudence; she asks him, 
 IIow doth God the feon save thee ? ’ the answer 
 
 and the next question is left out; and it appears 
 thus: ‘ By his illumination, by his renovation, and 
 by his presei'vation. ’ The lines that were omitted 
 are: 'James. .By his Righteousness, Death, and 
 Blood, and Life. Prud. And how doth God the 
 Holy Ghost save thee ?’ Mr. Mason, in his edi¬ 
 tion with notes, took as his standard this erroneous 
 copy, and put a note at the bottom of the page [69]: 
 
 , CO I cannot prevail on myself to let this part pass by, 
 without making an observation. Mr. Bunyan expresses him¬ 
 self very clear, and sound in the faith; but here it is not so: for 
 what is here ascribed to the Son, is rather the work of the 
 Spirit; and indeed the work of salvation effected by the Son 
 of God is entirely left out. I am, therefore, inclined to think 
 that here is a chasm, though not, perhaps, in the author’s ori¬ 
 ginal work, but by its passing through later editions. It really 
 seems defective here in the explanation of salvation by the 
 distinct offices of the Holy Trinity. 
 
 In the next edition with Mason’s Notes, he, 
 having discovered his error, very properly inserted 
 the missing lines, but as improperly continued his 
 note reflecting upon Bunyan ; 1 and it was con¬ 
 tinued in many subsequent editions in which the 
 text was correctly printed. 
 
 A line is omitted in Sturt’s edition, Part II. 
 p. 18o, and in many subsequent ones. * How 
 were their eyes now filled with celestial visions,’ 
 should be, ‘ How were their ears now filled with 
 heavenly noises and their eyes delighted with 
 celestial visions.’ But a more unaccountable error 
 occurs in the First Part, p. 95, where Bunyan says 
 ‘the Brute 2 in his kind serves God far better than 
 he ’ [Talkative], the printer has strangely altered 
 the word ‘ Brute ’ for ‘ Brewer.’ It is easier to 
 account for an error in printing a missal in Paris, 
 in the rubric of which should be, 'Id le pretre 
 dtera sa calotte ’ (here the priest shall take off 
 his cap); but in printing, the a was exchanged 
 for u in calotte: the printer was ruined and the 
 books burnt. It is quite impossible to notice all 
 the errors; they abound in almost every page of 
 all these interesting editions. Some of these errors 
 have been continued through nearly all the modern 
 editions, with other serious alterations. Thus, 
 when the pilgrims, in the Second Part, leave 
 the Delectable Mountains, they in a song record 
 the goodness of God in giving them, at proper 
 distances, places of rest, ‘ Behold, how fitly are 
 the stages set ! ’ the word ‘ stages ’ is altered 
 in many to ‘tables;’ 2 and in other editions to 
 
 1 In possession of S. J. Button, Esq., Racquet Court; of 
 Mr. Gammon, Bethnal Green; and of the Editor. This singu- 
 ar note, by Mr. Mason, is reprinted in an edition of which 
 many thousand copies were sold, published by Plummer and 
 . Irewis, Love Lane, Eastchcap. 12mo, 1813. 
 
 2 It is correct in the edition of 1728, of which Lord Ash- 
 hurnham and the Editor have very fine copies. 
 
 3 With Scott’s Notes and Montgomery’s Essay. Glasgow', 
 )V Collins. 
 
60 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ‘ stables. ’ 1 When the pilgrims escape from Doubt¬ 
 ing Castle, they sing, ‘Out of the way we went.,’ 
 &c.; one line of these verses is left out in all the 
 modern editions—an omission which ought to have 
 been seen and supplied, because all these songs 
 throughout the volume are uniformly in stanzas 
 of six lines. In Hopeful’s account of his conver¬ 
 sion, Bunyan says, ‘ I have committed sin enough 
 in one duty to send me to hell;’ this is altered 
 to ‘one day.’ 2 In the conversation with Igno¬ 
 rance, Christian observes, ‘ When our thoughts 
 of our hearts and ways agree with the Word;’ 
 meaning when we sit in judgment upon our 
 thoughts, and our opinion of our thoughts agrees 
 with the Word : but the strength and meaning of 
 this serious passage is lost by altering the words 
 to ‘when the thoughts of our hearts,’ Ac. This 
 alteration has been very generally, if not univer¬ 
 sally, made. Another very extraordinary error 
 has crept into many editions, and among them 
 into the elegant copies printed by Southey, and 
 that by the Art-Union with the prints in oblong 
 folio. It is in the conversation between Christian 
 and Hopeful, about the robbery ot Little Faith. 
 Bunyan refers to four characters in Scripture who 
 were notable champions, but who were very roughly 
 handled by Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt; they 
 made David (Ps. xxxviii.) groan, mourn, and roar. 
 Heman and Hezekiah too, though champions in 
 their day, had their coats soundly brushed by 
 them. Peter would go try what he could do—they 
 made him at last afraid of a sorry girl. Some 
 editor not acquainted with Heman (see Ps. lxxxviii.), 
 and not troubling himself to find who he was, 
 changed the name to one much more common and 
 familiar, and called him ‘ Hainan.’ 3 More recent 
 editors, including Mr. Southey and the Art-Union, 
 probably conceiving that Hainan, however exalted 
 he was as a sinner, was not one of the Lord’s 
 champions in his day, changed the name to that 
 of Mordecai. 4 A most unwarrantable and foolish 
 alteration. In the Second Part., 5 ‘ This Vision ’ is 
 put for ‘ This Visitor.’ The marginal note, ‘ The 
 Light of the Word’ is changed to ‘The Light of 
 the World. ’ 6 This error is perpetuated by Southey 
 and others. A copy of Sturt’s edition, with every 
 error marked in the text, appears to be more 
 covered with spots than a leopard’s skin. 
 
 This wondrous Dream has been translated into 
 nearly all the languages of the world. To Mr. 
 
 J Editions with Mason’s Notes, and in the first with Sturt’s 
 
 Plates, 1728. 
 
 3 Sturt’s edition, p. 1G7- 
 
 3 Editions by Birds and Co., Edinburgh, 8vo; Mosley, Gains¬ 
 borough, 1792, &c.; London, with Newton’s Notes, 1776; 
 and by D. Bunyan, 1768. 
 
 4 It occurs also in an edition by Hodson and Deighton, 
 
 London, 1792. 
 
 6 Sturt’s edition, p. 9. 6 P. 178. 
 
 Doe’s enumeration of one hundred thousand copies 
 in English having been circulated in the life of the 
 author, must be added all the editions in North 
 America. There were then also translations into 
 French, Flemish, Dutch, Welsh, Gaelic, and Irish ; 
 and, since then, it has been read by the Christian 
 Hebrews in the holy city, Jerusalem, in their own 
 language, without points ; and probably beside the 
 waters of Jordan and Tiberias; and far may it 
 spread ! 7 It has also been translated into Spanish, 
 Portuguese, Italian, Danish, German, Estonian, 
 Armenian, Burmese, Singhalese, Orissa, Ilindoo- 
 stanee; Bengalee, by Dr. Carey, 8vo, Serampore, 
 1821; Tamil, Marathi, Canarese, Gujaratti, Malay, 
 Arabic, in a handsome 8vo volume, with woodcuts, 
 printed at Malta; Romaic, 8 Samoan, Tahitian, 
 Pichuana, Bechuana, Malagasy, New Zealand. 9 
 And in Dr. Adam Clarke’s library was a copy in 
 Latin, entitled Peregrincttis Progressus, a J. Bunyan 
 Lat. edit, a Gul. Massey, 4to. A copy of the Welsh 
 translation, published before Bunyan’s decease, but 
 which had not come to his knowledge, is in the 
 library of Miss Atherton of Kersell Cell, near 
 Manchester. That lady, not understanding the 
 Welsh language, most readily and kindly furnished 
 me with some particulars of this rare volume, 
 extracted in Welsh; and it appears that the title- 
 page exactly follows the English editions. The 
 preface is signed S. H. It has the marginal notes 
 and references. Licensed by R. Midgley, 23rd of 
 November 1687. Printed in London by J. Rich¬ 
 ardson, 12mo, 168|, the 10th of January. ‘ The 
 translator advises such as desire to learn to read 
 Welsh, to buy the Primer and Almanack of Mr. 
 Thomas Jones, because the letters and syllables 
 are in them. ’ The late Mr. Thomas Rodd informed 
 me that he possessed a copy in Welsh, translated 
 by Thomas Jones, published in 1699, small 8vo. 
 The Dutch edition w r as very neatly printed, with 
 superior cuts, t’Utrecht, by Jan van Paddenburgh, 
 1684. 
 
 The French translation is a neat pocket volume, 
 with copper-plates, very superior to any embellish¬ 
 ments in the early English copies, Amsterdam, 
 chez Boekholt, 1685. The frontispiece represents 
 our pilgrim with his burden on his shoulders, 
 knocking at the wicket-gate. The title is, Voyage 
 cVun Chrestien vers VEternite, par Monsieur Bunjan 
 F.M. en Bedtford. The ‘ Lecteur ami’ comprises 
 fourteen pages. In it he describes 
 
 ‘The author of this book, Mr. John Bunyan, is, at this 
 time, an upright and faithful minister at Bedford, in England 
 
 7 Gentleman’s Magazine, April 1844. It is in a small 12mo, 
 the price of which is 6-y.! 
 
 8 Bunyan’s ‘ Rilgrim’s Progress,’ Romaic, by S, J. Bilson. 
 8vo, Melitae, 1824. Brit. Mus. Addl. Books. 
 
 9 See Lists by Tract Society, in Report, 1847 ; and in The 
 Pilgrim, a tract. Also, copies in possession of the Editor. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THU EDITOR. 
 
 Cl 
 
 —a man of unexampled piety and devotion ; such an one as 
 Demetrius, of whom John speaks in his 3rd Epistle and 12th 
 verse. Every one hears witness that, in this little volume, 
 and in his other works, appear a manifest and peculiar wisdom, 
 very great experience, and a penetrating sight into spiritual 
 things. The design of our author is simply to present a peni¬ 
 tent soul seeking God on Iris journey towards Eternity. How 
 he turns from his former state of perdition, leaves his home, 
 and sets his steps towards the Jerusalem on high ; his adven¬ 
 tures by the way; his view of those that choose for themselves 
 bypaths that lead to hell; we doubt not but that some, in 
 turning over these leaves, will read their own experience inge¬ 
 niously drawn out, and their own portrait placed bqjore their 
 eyes, as if they saw themselves in a glass. The Christian 
 traveller, the true citizen of Zion, is skilfully portrayed to the 
 life. If a hypocritical professor should have his eyes illumin¬ 
 ated, he will here see himself under another name than that 
 of Christian—his foolish imaginations overthrown—his hopes 
 perish, and all his expectations swept away like a cobweb. If 
 any one judge that this mode of writing is not sufficiently 
 solemn for such spiritual matters, and doubt the propriety of 
 representing them as a dream and under such images, they 
 should recollect that our author was unintentionally led to this 
 manner of writing, and found himself very much embarrassed 
 as to the propriety of publishing it to the world ; and did not 
 venture to print it until persuaded by many learned and pious 
 men. Our Bunyan wrote allegorically, in the hopes that 
 Divine truth might reach the very depths of the heart. Many 
 great theologians have treated the most important truths in 
 the same figurative manner, following the footsteps of our 
 great and sovereign Rabbi Jesus Christ, who taught by simili¬ 
 tudes, as also the prophets were constrained by the Holy Spirit 
 to speak. Oh that our readers may find themselves to be 
 true citizens of Zion, with their feet in the Royal Highway, 
 that they may be fortified, consoled, and instructed; and, if 
 convinced of backsliding, may return to the paths of peace, to 
 love King Jesus, the Lord of the Hill. And may many take our 
 Christian by the skirt of his robe, and say, we will go with 
 thee. May it arrest the attention of the Flemings as it has 
 that of the English, among whom, in a very few years, it has 
 been printed many times/ 
 
 This interesting preface, which we have some¬ 
 what abridged, ends with a quotation from Acts 
 xx. 32. 
 
 Bunyan’s language is so purely English, his 
 style so colloquial, his names and titles so full of 
 meaning, that it must have been a most difficult 
 hook to translate. This is seen on turning: to the 
 fifth question put by Prudence, on the Pilgrim’s 
 arrival at the Palace Beautiful. 
 
 ‘ Pru. Et qui est ce, je te prie, que te rend si desireux de la 
 montagne de Sion ? 
 
 ‘ Chres. Quoy, demandes tu ccla ? 0 mon Dieu ! comme le 
 
 cerf brame apres le decours des eaux fraisches, aiusi mon ceur 2 
 desire apres toy le Dieu, le Grand Dieu vivant. C’est la ou 
 j’attends de voir en vie celuy que je vis autrefois rnort, et pendu 
 sur la croix; c’est la ou j’espere d’etre unefois decharge de 
 toutes ces choscs, qui me causent tant de peine, taut de donleur, 
 taut de dommage, & m’enont cause jusques ace jour icy; c’est 
 la, a ce qu’on ma dit, qu’il n’y aura plus de mort; c’est la ou 
 je jouiray d’une compagnie, a laquelle je preudray le plus grand 
 plaisir. Car, pour te dire la verite, je l’aime; voire 
 
 1 Uuiformly spelt, in this book, ceur. 
 
 * Je t’aimeray cn toute obeissanee. 
 
 Taute que vivray, 0 mon Dieu, ma puissance. 
 
 Je dis, je 1’aime, a cause qu’il a illumine les yeux obscurcis de 
 mon entendemeut par une lumiere divine, procedee des rayons 
 du soleil de sa grace, lumiere qui m’a servi de guide pour me 
 eouduire en ce chemin; mais aussi je Raima, pource qu’il ma 
 decharge de mon fardcau: & je me trouve las a cause de mon 
 mal interieur; ah que mon ceur soupire apres ce lieu, ou je 
 serai delivre de mourir; apres cette compagnie, ou l’on chantera 
 a jamais, saint, saint, saint, est l’Etcrnal des armees/ 
 
 The answer in English is one hundred and two 
 words; in French, extending to two hundred and 
 twenty. 
 
 The Slough of Despond is called Le Bourbier 
 Mhfiance; Worldly-Wiseman, Sage Mondain; 
 Faithful, Loyal; Talkative, Grand Jaseur; Pick- 
 thank, Flatteur; My Old Lord Letchery, Mon 
 vieux Seigneur Assez Bon; No-good, Vautrien; 
 Live-loose, Vivan Mort; Hate-light, Grand Ilai- 
 neux; Bye-ends, Autrefin. The poetry would have 
 seriously puzzled the worthy translator; but instead 
 of attempting it, he supplies its place from French 
 psalms or hymns. The copper-plates are rather 
 fine specimens of drawing and engraving. Sweep¬ 
 ing the room at the Interpreter’s house, and At¬ 
 tempting to awake the Sleepers on the Enchanted 
 Ground, are new designs. 2 
 
 There is a copy in the British Museum some¬ 
 what modernized, Rotterdam, 1722 ; 3 and a very 
 handsome edition, with plates by an eminent Dutch 
 engraver, printed at Rotterdam, 1757; 4 and one 
 with woodcuts, 12mo, Basle, 1728, 5 6 Ac. Ac. These 
 are French Protestant translations ; besides which, 
 there have been many editions of a Roman Catholic 
 translation into French. This is greatly abridged, 
 and, of course, Giant Pope is omitted; and so is 
 the remark about Peter being afraid of a sorry girl. 
 They are very neat pocket volumes, printed in 
 Paris, 1783; at Rouen, 1821, Ac. Ac., entitled, 
 Le Pelerinage d'un Nomme Chretien Traduit de 
 L'Anglois. In the preface, the Roman Catholic 
 translator calls the English nation judideuse et 
 eclairbe. The Editor bought a copy of this book 
 in a convent in France. The lady-abbess assured 
 him that it was a most excellent work to promote 
 piety and virtue!—a sentence which first led him 
 to the discovery that the old lady had a remark¬ 
 ably sweet voice. 
 
 Dr. Cheever accounts thus for the extensive 
 popularity of our ‘Pilgrim:’— 
 
 ‘ It is a piece of rich tapestry, in which, with the Word of 
 God before him as his original and guide, aud with all these 
 heavenly materials tinged in the deep feelings of his own con- 
 
 2 A fine copy is in the library of S. J. Button, Esq., Racquet 
 Court, Fleet Street. 
 
 3 British Museum, 1113, b. 
 
 4 In possession of Mr. Thornton, the Cottage, Claphnm 
 
 Common. 
 
 6 A fine copy in possession of the Editor. 
 
62 
 
 TITE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 verted heart, he wove into one beautiful picture the spiritual 
 scenery and thrilling events of his own journey as a Christian 
 pilgrim. It is all fresh and graphic from his own experience, 
 vivid with real life, freshly portrayed from the Word of God; 
 nor can you tell that Bunyan was of any sect, save that he was 
 a living member of the church of Christ.’ 
 
 This work has afforded the deepest interest to 
 the painter; and it has also excited the poet to 
 sing our Pilgrim’s adventures, both in rhyme and 
 blank verse. The ornamental embellishments were 
 at first good woodcuts for a chap-book, 1 faithful 
 copies of which will be found in this edition ; these 
 dwindled down, in succeeding editions, to the cheap¬ 
 est and most contemptible cuts that can be con¬ 
 ceived. The Avorst of these is in an edition of the 
 ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ by a namesake of the author, 
 Mr. D. Bunyan. The next series Avere the copper¬ 
 plates to Sturt’s edition; fine impressions of these 
 designs are found, four on a page, in the first com¬ 
 plete edition of Bunyan’s Works, 1737. Since 
 then, many beautiful sets of engravings have been 
 published in the editions by Ileptinstall and Scott, 
 betAveen 1788 and 1793, the most beautiful being 
 a series of sixteen elegant designs by Stothard, 
 engraved by Strut. 2 These Avere reduced, and 
 published in 4to, with Sonnets by George Toaauis- 
 end, Prebendary of Durham. Thus, at length, Ave 
 find that Bishop Bunyan keeps company with other 
 dignitaries. TAventy-four original outlines were 
 published by Mrs. Mackenzie; and a set of very 
 beautiful engravings, with a valuable letterpress 
 accompaniment by J. Conder. The^jedition by 
 Southey is elegantly illustrated. The Art-Union 
 has favoured the public with a series of illustra¬ 
 tions in oblong folio, some of which, hoAvever ele¬ 
 gantly designed, would probably puzzle even the 
 keen, penetrating eye of Bunyan to discover Avhat 
 work they were intended to illustrate. 3 A more 
 serious defect is observable in this oblong edition. 
 Bunyan’s terms are considered as too vulgar, and 
 tAvo of his words are exchanged for the more polite 
 term of ‘ harlot ;’ 4 while, on the corner of page 36, 
 an indecent cut is exhibited ! The Introduction 
 and Life of Bunyan, by Godwin and Pocock, are 
 well written and handsomely illustrated. A simi¬ 
 lar series of outline engravings to the ‘ Pilgrim’s 
 Progress,’ by the daughter of a British Admiral, 
 Avere given to the subscribers to the Sailor’s Home 
 in Well Street, London. They were on tinted 
 paper, the same size as those by the Art-Union, 
 but v r ery inferior both in design and engraving. A 
 large sheet of beautiful Avoodcuts was lately pub¬ 
 lished by that eminent artist, Thomas Gilks. The 
 
 | most elegant edition for a drawing-room or library 
 that has been published is one just finished, by 
 Mr. Bogue. It is not only a correct text, but is 
 rich in illustrative Avoodcuts and borders, and has 
 a deeply-interesting Memoir of Bunyan, from the 
 pen of Dr. Cheever. 
 
 In 1844, a very handsome edition of the ‘Pil¬ 
 grim’s Progress’ Avas published in folio, on fine 
 paper, for purposes of illustration. It has a 
 Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Scott. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A'EUSIONS, COMMENTS, AN1) IMITATIONS OF TOE ‘ PILGRIM.’ 
 
 The earliest poetical attempts to promote the 
 circulation of the ‘ Pilgrim’ is of the First Part, 
 done into verse by Francis Hoffman, printed by 
 R. Tookey, 1706. Not only is the prose versified, 
 but he has, according to his taste, versified Bun- 
 yan’s verse. Thus, the long controversy as to the 
 propriety of publishing the work, in Hoffman’s 
 verses, is—■ 
 
 * One Part said, Print it; others it decry’d; 
 
 Some said, it would do good, which some denied: 
 
 I, seeing them divided to Extreams, 
 
 Could from them hope no Favour but the Elames; 
 
 Resolving, since Two Parties could not do’t, 
 
 Being Third my-self, to give the casting Vote, 
 
 And have it printed.’ 
 
 It has a smart hit at occasional conformity. 
 
 •J 
 
 Thus Apollyon says— 
 
 * ’T is with professors, now in Fashion grown, 
 
 T’ espouse his cause a while to serve their own; 
 
 Come, with me go occasionally back, 
 
 Rather than a preferment lose, or lack.’ 5 
 
 Judging from these and other specimens, it is 
 not surprising that the work was never repub¬ 
 lished. It has some woodcuts, and is very rare. 6 
 Many attempts have been made to render Bunyan’s 
 ‘ Pilgrim’ a popular work in poetry, but all have 
 failed. The most respectable is by J. S. Dodd, 
 M.D., 8\ r o, Dublin, 1795. This is in blank verse, 
 and Avith good engravings; it has also an index, 
 and all the passages of Scripture given at length ; 
 not only those that are directly referred to, but 
 also a number of others which might have sug- 
 gested ideas to the author that he embodied in 
 his work. The notes are well Avritten, and short. 
 They Avere reprinted, Avith out acknowledgment, in 
 an edition of the ‘Pilgrim,’ in three parts, pub¬ 
 lished by Macgowan; London, 1822. 
 
 1 Books sold by hawkers. 
 
 2 Sturt and Strut were men of a different era. 
 
 3 The meeting of Christian and Faithful, one of them with 
 a crucifix ; the destruction of By-ends, &c. 
 
 4 See page 47. 
 
 6 Page 60. 
 
 6 A perfect copy in the library of W. B. Gurney, Esq.; and 
 another in the library of Lord Ashburnham. Mr. Pickering 
 has one without the translator’s name: this is merely a new 
 title, probably to make the rhyme pass as Bunyan’s. It is 
 referred to by Mr. Southey in his Life of Bunyan, p. xcvii. 
 
INTRODUCTION EY THE EDITOR. 
 
 63 
 
 George Burder, the well-known author of the 
 Village Sermons, published, in 1804, Bunyan’s 
 ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’ Part the First, versified, 
 which passed through several largo editions, and 
 was much used in Sunday-schools; it has wood- 
 cuts. A very handsome edition of this has been 
 lately published, with the Second Part, by the au¬ 
 thor of Scripture Truths in Verse, and is profusely 
 ornamented with woodcuts. T. Dibdin also pub¬ 
 lished Bunyan’s ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress,’metrically 
 condensed, in six cantos. This embraces only the 
 First Part. The author claims having kept the 
 simplicity of the original, and a rigid observance 
 of every doctrine enforcing the certainty of the 
 one only road to safety and salvation. 1 The late 
 Isaac Taylor, of Ongar, published Bunyan Ex¬ 
 plained to a Child, being pictures and Poems 
 founded upon the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ;’ two very 
 neat and interesting little volumes, each containing 
 fifty cuts. 2 
 
 Dr. Adam Clarke considered that our Pilgrim 
 might be more read by a certain class if published 
 as an epic poem. 
 
 ‘ The whole body of the dialogue and description might be 
 preserved perfect and entire; and the task would not be diffi¬ 
 cult, as the work has the complete form of an epic poem, the 
 versification alone excepted. But a poet, and a poet only, 
 can do this work, and such a jroet, too, as is experimentally 
 acquainted with the work of God on his own soul. I subscribe 
 to the opinion of Mr. Addison, that, had J. Bunyan lived in 
 the time of the primitive fathers, he would have been as great 
 a father as any of them.’ 3 
 
 A lady who wrote under the initials, C. C. V. G., 
 lias recently made the attempt, and she does not 
 appear to have been aware that Dr. Dodd had 
 gone over the same ground. It is a highly respect¬ 
 able production, divided into six cantos, but in¬ 
 cludes only the First Part. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress Versified. By the Rev. 
 W. E. Hume, B.A. 2 vols. fcp. 8vo. 1844-5. 
 
 In this poetic attempt, each part is divided into six cantos. 
 At the first glance, it appeared more like a parody than a seri¬ 
 ous effort to convey the sense; but the author seems to be in 
 earnest. A very few lines will show the poetic talent which is 
 displayed. The pilgrim about to start: 
 
 ‘ Trembling he was, and tears I well could track. 
 
 Till broke he forth, and cried, “ What shall I do, alack ! ” , 
 
 On Ignorance arriving at the gates of the Celestial City, 
 
 * Ihey told the King, but down he would not run. 
 
 The first part ends thus: 
 
 ‘ I he way to hell, from gate of heaven, was there, 
 
 E’en as from Ruin’s town. I woke—had dream’d, declare.’ 
 
 ' Post 8vo, Harding and King, 1834. 
 
 Post 8vo, London, 1835. 
 
 3 Postscript to a Life of Bunynv , 1844. 
 
 A Free Poetic Version of the First Part of the Pil¬ 
 grim's Progress. In Ten Books. By J. B. 
 Drayton. With a Memoir, and Notes selected 
 and abridged from the Rev. T. Scott. 12mo, 
 Cheltenham. No date. 
 
 This first appeared under the title cf Poetic Sketches from 
 Bunyan, fcp. 8vo, 1821. ‘To tempt those who slight the 
 original as a coarse and illiterate production to give it a perusal, 
 and they will find that its merits are of the highest order—con¬ 
 ceived in the true spirit of poetry—like a rude but luxuriant 
 wilderness.’ The Christian’s burden is called ‘ a sordid pest.’ 
 His description of the Interpreter will give an idea of Mr 
 Drayton’s style: 
 
 ‘ Meek was his mein, 
 
 Yet fiery keen. 
 
 The ordeal inquest of his eye, 
 
 And blent with hoary majesty, 
 
 A stately wand he bore ; 
 
 But, ere he taught his mystic lore, 
 
 He asked the Pilgrim’s late abode. 
 
 His errand, and his destined road.’ 
 
 When Christian met the men running from the Valley of 
 the Shadow of Death, his inquiry is anything but poetic— 
 
 ‘ Hold! "What’s the Damage ? ’ 
 
 Little interest lias been excited by these endea¬ 
 vours to versify the ‘ Pilgrim.’ All the attempts 
 to improve Bunyan are miserable failures ; it is 
 like holding up a rushlight to increase the beauty 
 of the moon when in its full radiance. His fine 
 old vernacular colloquial English may be modern¬ 
 ized and spoiled, but cannot be improved. The 
 expression used to denote how hard the last lock 
 in Doubting Castle ‘went,’ may grate upon a polite 
 ear, but it has a deep meaning that should warn us 
 of entering by-path meadows. 
 
 Bunyan’s poetry, interspersed throughout the 
 ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ displays the perpetual bent 
 of the writer’s mind. No show, no attempt at 
 parade, all his object is to fix truth upon the con¬ 
 science ; and some of his homely rhymes ought 
 never to be forgotten. The impression made in 
 childhood ‘sticks like burs.’ Who that has once 
 read the lay of the Shepherd’s boy, will ever for¬ 
 get the useful lesson ? 
 
 * He that is dow r n need fear no fall, 
 
 He that is low no pride; 
 
 He that is 1mmhie ever shad 
 Have God to be his guide.’ 
 
 Mr. Burder of Coventry divided the ‘Pilgrim’s 
 Progress,’ Part I. into twenty, and Part II. into 
 fifteen chapters, with short notes at the end of 
 each ; 4 it has been several times republished; but 
 this innovation was not well received. 
 
 Numerous have been the editions with notes, to 
 illustrate the author’s meaning, by men of some 
 eminence; but Montgomery’s beautiful description 
 at once shows that, doctrinally or experimentally 
 considered, they are not needed. ‘Bunyan’s alle- 
 
 4 Brit. Mus. 113, b.; Editor’s library. 
 
64 
 
 TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 gory is so perfect, that, like the light, whilst re¬ 
 vealing through its colourless and undistorting 
 medium every object, yet is itself concealed. 
 
 A Key to the Pilgrim s Progress; designed to assist 
 the admirers of that excellent hook to read 
 it with understanding and profit, as well as 
 pleasing entertainment. By Andronicus. 
 
 This contains some useful information; it passed through 
 two editions in 1797. 
 
 A Course of Lectures Illustrative of the Pilgrims 
 Progress, delivered at the Tabernacle, Haver- 
 ford West. By Daniel Warr. 8vo, 1825. 
 
 These lectures, twenty in number, embrace only the Eirst 
 Part. They proved acceptable to those who heard them, and 
 were published by subscription. Nine hundred and twenty- 
 eight copies were subscribed for at 8s. each. 
 
 Lectures on the Pilgrim’s Progress, and on the Life 
 and Times of Puny an. By Rev. George B. 
 Clieever, D.D., of New York. 
 
 This is the work of one of Bunyan’s kindred 
 spirits. If there was any foundation for the Chinese 
 theory of the transmigration of souls, one might 
 imagine that Bunyan had been again permitted ' 
 to visit the church on earth, in the person of Dr. 
 Cheever. The numerous editions of these lectures 
 which have been sold on both sides of the Atlantic 
 has proved how acceptable a work it is ; to give its 
 beauties would he to copy the whole; they that 
 have read it will read it again and again with 
 renewed pleasure. They who have not read it 
 may safely anticipate a choice literary treat. 
 
 Attempts to explain the spiritual meaning of 
 such a writer have sometimes deserved the reproof 
 contained in the following anecdote:—‘ A late 
 eminent and venerated clergyman, 1 published an 
 edition of Bunyan’s Pilgrim, 2 which he accom¬ 
 panied with expository notes. A copy of this 
 work he benevolently presented to one of his poor 
 parishioners. Some time afterwards the poor man 
 was met by the clergyman, who inquired, “ Well, 
 have you read the Pilgrim’s Progress?” the re¬ 
 ply was, “Yes, sir.” It was further asked, “ Do 
 you think you understand it?” “0, yes, sir,” 
 was the answer, with this somewhat unexpected 
 addition, “And 1 hope before long I shall under¬ 
 stand the notes !” ’ 3 Still there can be no doubt 
 but that notes from other of Bunyan’s treatises, 
 and from eminent authors, must be highly illus¬ 
 trative and interesting. 
 
 1 Thomas Scott, author of the Commentary on the Bib/e, 
 and other valuable works. Sir James Stephen, in his Ecclesi¬ 
 astical Biography, says of Thomas Scott—‘ He died neglected, 
 if not despised, by the hierarchy of the Church of England; 
 although in him she lost a teacher, weighed against whom the 
 most reverend, right reverend, very reverend, and venerable 
 personages, if all thrown together into the opposing scale, would 
 at once have kicked the beam.’—Vol. ii. p. 123. 
 
 2 12mo, with Plates. Coventry, 1797. 
 
 2 Pritchard’s Life of Ivimey, p. 139. 
 
 The ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’ has also been abridged. 
 One of the early publications of the Tract Society 
 was the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress, Part the First,’ 
 divided upon Mr. Burder’s plan, into twenty 
 chapters. It is in eight Parts, at 1 \d. each, with 
 a recommendation that the children should find 
 the texts referred to, and repeat them when con¬ 
 venient ; it has a woodcut to each Part. 
 
 An Extract of the Pilgrim's Progress, Two Parts, 
 divided into chapters, 12mo, Dublin. For the 
 Methodist Book-room, 1810. Price 3s. 3d. 
 
 This contains nearly the whole; Giants Pagan and Pope are 
 excluded, so also are the fiend’s whispering evil thoughts into 
 the Pilgrim’s ears. Christiana speaks of her old husband in¬ 
 stead of her good husband. The narrative is injured by the 
 omissions and alterations. 
 
 The Pilgrims Progress. By J ohn Bunyan; abridged 
 for the use of schools. By J. Townsend. With 
 a Sketch of the Author’s Life. 
 
 This little book was extensively circulated, especially in 
 Sunday Schools. 
 
 The Pilgrims Progress . By J ohn Bunyan. 
 
 A miniature abridgment, with cuts, title printed in gold 
 on a blue-glazed paper, the edges gilt, has been lately selling 
 in the streets of London for 1 d. each! 
 
 A strange attempt was made by Joshua Gilpin, 
 rector of Wrockwardine, Shropshire, in 1811, to 
 fit Bunyan with a modern and fashionable suit of 
 clothes, and under the tuition of a 'petit maztre , 
 train him for elegant drawing-room company. 
 How odd an idea to dress Bunyan ada-mode, place 
 him in an elegant party, chill him with ices, and 
 torment his soul with the badinage of a Mi's. Per¬ 
 kin s Ball. It was entitled, ‘Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s 
 Progress ; in which the phraseology of the author 
 is somewhat improved, some of his obscurities 
 elucidated, and some of his redundancies done 
 away.’ A handsome 8vo volume, 1811. Mr. 
 Gilpin complains that the Pilgrim’s defects are 
 conspicuous and offensive, but gives no specimens 
 of them. Instead of Faithful telling Christian 
 the common feeling against Pliable, in plain Eng¬ 
 lish, ‘ 0, they say, Hang him, he is a turn-coat; 
 he was not true to his profession;’ Mr. Gilpin 
 prefers, ‘ They tauntingly say, that he was not 
 true to his profession.’ And as to the unfashion- 
 ably pointed remarks by the Interpreter, that a 
 Christian profession, without regeneration, is like 
 a tree whose leaves are fair, but their heart good 
 for nothing but to be tinder for the devil’s tinder- 
 box* this is too bad to be mended, and is, there¬ 
 fore, struck out altogether. The public did not 
 encourage Mr. Gilpin’s metamorphoses, and the 
 book is forgotten. In the following year Mr. Gilpin 
 published, anonymously, The Pilgrimage of Tlieo- 
 philus to the City of God. It was intend ed for the 
 
 * P. 245. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 
 instruction of liis children. It is free from sectarian¬ 
 ism and slander; being the adventures of two young 
 Pilgrims, who become ministers. The whole of the 
 plot is taken from Bunyan; is a pious imitation, but, 
 like many others, it is even now forgotten. 
 
 It would be impossible to enumerate all the at¬ 
 tempts which have been made to copyBunyan’s alle¬ 
 gory. A few of them deserve notice. One of these 
 was an impudent forgery. It was under the title of 
 
 The Progress of the Pilgrim , in Two Parts. Written 
 by way of a Dream. Adorned with several new 
 pictures, iio.xii. 10 ,1 have used similitudes. Lon¬ 
 don, by J. Blare, at the Looking Glass, on 
 London Bridge, 1705. 
 
 In this, which is published as an origiual work. Evangelist 
 is called Good-news; Worldly-wiseman, Mr. Politic Worldly; 
 Legality, Mr. Law-do ; The Interpreter, Director ; The Palace 
 Beautiful, Grace’s Hall; Giant Desperation of Diffident Castle; 
 Mr. Despondency and his daughter Much-afraid are called, One 
 Much-cast-down, and his kinsman, Almost Overcome. Who¬ 
 ever was employed in stealing this literary property, and dis¬ 
 guising the stolen goods, appears to have been a Roman 
 Catholic ; he omits Giant Pope; and Faithful, called Fidelius, 
 is hanged, drawn, and quartered, that being the punishment 
 inflicted on the Roman Catholics by Elizabeth and James I. 
 
 Bugg’s Pilgrims Progress from Quakerism to 
 Christianity. 4to, and 8vo, 1698. 
 
 The author had been a Quaker, but conformed, and attacked 
 his old friends with great vituperation. It is not allegorical. 
 
 Desiderius; or, the Original Pilgrim. By L. 
 
 Ilowell, M.A. 
 
 This was written in Spanish, and has been published in 
 Latin, Italian, French, Dutch, and German. Mr. Howell 
 says in the preface, ‘I am assured that Mr. Royston, the 
 bookseller, very well knew that Dr. Patrick took his pilgrim 
 Irom it/ It is the mode by which a gentleman curbed his 
 passions, and became a good church-going man, and qualified 
 himself (p. 124) to trust in God. It was not published in 
 Euglish until 1717. 
 
 The Young Man s Guide through the wilderness of 
 this world to the heavenly Canaan: showing him j 
 bow to carry himself Christian-like, the whole j 
 course of his life. By Thomas Gouge. 1719 ; 
 small Svo. 
 
 This is a valuable work, but not allegorical. 
 
 The Statesman’s Progress, or a Pilgrimage to Great- 1 
 ness; delivered under the similitude of a dream, 
 wherein are discovered, The manner of his 
 setting out, his dangerous journey, and safe 
 arrival at the desired country ; with the manner 
 of his acting when he came there. By John 
 Bunyan. With a Latin quotation from Horace. 
 London, printed, and Dublin reprinted in the 
 year 1741. 8vo. 
 
 This is a shrewd attack upon Sir Robert Walpole, one of 
 the most corrupt of English statesmen, just before his final 1 
 fall. It was he that said ‘ every man had his price,’ and who 
 VOL. IH. 
 
 I attacked Mr. Pitt, afterwards Earl of Chatham, on bis youth; 
 1 exciting a reply which must he admired to the latest age. 
 This Pilgrimage represents Walpole uuder the name of Bad- 
 man, on his course to Greatness Hall, where grew the golden 
 pippins. He is introduced to Queen Vice, behind whose 
 throne stood Death with ropes, axes, and daggers in his haud. 
 Badman attains his object, has possession of the golden fruit, 
 and by its aid exercises absolute sway. The allegory is kept 
 up with great spirit. 
 
 Our readers need not be reminded that Bun- 
 yan’s name was used because be was the prince of 
 allegorists, in the same way that Homer’s name 
 would have been used if it had been a poem, or 
 Juvenal, had it been a satire in verse. It is of 
 great rarity; the account is taken from a copy in 
 the Editor’s library. 
 
 The celebrity of Bunyan led to another impudent 
 forgery, in a pamphlet entitled, Tiie advantages 
 and disadvantages of the Marriage State, as entered 
 into with religious or irreligious persons , delivered 
 under the similitude of a dream. With notes ex¬ 
 planatory and improving. By J. B * * * * N, 
 Minister of the Gospel. The sixth edition, with 
 addition of new cuts. Bosworth; Printed by 
 Robert Grinley, for the author, 1775. The fronti¬ 
 spiece is the Sleeping Portrait on the Lion’s Den, 
 with skull and cross bones ; above are the Pilgrim 
 with his burden, and the Wicket Gate; under this 
 is inscribed John Bunyan of Bedford. It was 
 impudent enough to publish this for the author in 
 1775, Bunyan having died in 1688. 
 
 The Spanish Pilgrim; or an admirable discovery 
 of a Romish Catholic. 1 
 
 A tract to show the easiest way to invade Spaiu. 
 
 The Pilgrim; or, a Picture of Life. By a Chinese 
 Philosopher, 2 vols. by Johnston. 2 
 
 A caricature, exhibiting English manners, in the reign of 
 George III., through a distorted medium. 
 
 The New Pilgrims; or, the Pious Indian Convert, 
 containing a faithful account of Flattain Gela- 
 shenin, a heathen who was baptized into the 
 Christian Faith by the name of George James, 
 and by that means brought from the darkness 
 of Paganism to the light of the Gospel, of 
 which he afterwards became an able and worthy 
 minister; and the wonderful things which he 
 saw in a vision. London, 12mo, 1748. 
 
 A Voyage through Hell, by tlce Invincible Man of 
 War, Captain Single-Eye. Svo, 1770. 
 
 This is a very curious allegory; part of the crew demur to 
 signing the articles because they are Unitarian. The mob who 
 see the ship sail, abuse the Captain. After many adventures, 
 she arrives in hell, and the crew and officers are tried; all the 
 Unitarians are acquitted, and sail on to heaven, but all the 
 
 1 British Museum, 1103, e. 
 
 2 King’s Library, British Museum, 245, f. 7. 
 
 0 
 
66 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Trinitarians enter into eternal torment. This volume is very 
 rare. It is the only book that I have seen in which Unitarians 
 avow such diabolical sentiments. 
 
 Shrubsole’s Christian Memoirs; or. New Pilgrimage 
 to the Heavenly Jerusalem. 1777; republished 
 1799, and in 1807. 
 
 This was supposed to contain allusions to certain persons of 
 some note, and was for a time a popular book. 
 
 The Female Pilgrim; or the travels of Hephzibali, 
 a description of her Native Country, with the 
 State of the Inhabitants thereof. By John 
 Mitchell. 
 
 This contains some account of the religious state of this 
 country in the latter end of the reign of George III.; it has 
 plates, and passed through several editions. The author states, 
 that he has not been influenced by malice to those persons 
 whose characters he has drawn as odious 1 
 
 « 
 
 A second Pilgrim s Progress from the town of Deceit 
 to the kingdom of Glory. By Pliilalethes. 8vo, 
 1790. 
 
 This is an allegory, but not a dream. It is the adventures 
 of 'Wake-heart, who gets to glory. 
 
 The Progress of the Pilgrim, Good Intent, in Jacob¬ 
 inical Times. By Miss Anne Burgess, of the 
 Yale of Honiton. 
 
 This was, for a time, very popular, and went through as 
 many as seven editions at least, in the years 1800 and 1801 : 
 it arose out of the French Revolution, and was intended to 
 counteract republican principles, and free inquiries into prac¬ 
 tices called religious. It has some witty passages, and a tender 
 attachment to the crown and mitre. It represents philosophy 
 as having for its father Lucifer; and its mother Nonsense ! 1 
 That the mitre assumes no control. Lawful government and 
 church establishments are venerable, and to be admired and 
 supported; that the rights of man teach plunder and robbery; 
 that those who oppose the church, as by law established, seek 
 to promote atheism. The authoress invents a she-devil, called 
 Mental Energy, who invites men to destruction, by thinking 
 for themselves. 
 
 It must have recpiired the aid of some church 
 wealth and influence to have pushed this book into 
 circulation; it is now nearly forgotten. 2 
 
 The Sailor Pilgnm; in Two Parts. By R. Hawker, 
 
 D.D. 1806. 
 
 This passed through several editions, and was a valuable 
 means of awakening seafaring men to the importance of reli¬ 
 gion. It abounds with interesting anecdotes. 
 
 Zion's Pilgrim. 1808. 
 
 This, and Zion’s Warrior, by the same author, are full of 
 anecdotes, useful in their day. They are not allegorical. 
 
 The Travels of Humanias in search of the Temple 
 of Happiness. An allegory. By William 
 Lucas. 12mo, 1809. 
 
 1 Page 63. 
 
 2 In the Editor’s Library. First Edition. 1800 and 
 
 •Seventh Edition, 1801. 
 
 The Prodigal's Pilgrimage into a far Country, and 
 back to his Father s House; in fourteen stages. 
 By Thomas Jones, Curate of Creaton. 1825. 
 This is the adventures and return of the prodigal, founded 
 on the parable in Lu. xv., but is not allegorical. 3 
 
 The Sojourn of a Sceptic in the Land of Darkness, 
 to the City of Strongholds, in the Similitude of a 
 Dream. Edinburgh, 1847. 
 
 The prose and poetry in this volume are equally contemptible t 
 ‘ Who follow lies they love (that walk or crawl), 
 
 A lie, at last, to ruin may pursue ; 
 
 Who swallow greasy camels, hump and all, 
 
 A gnat may scandalize, and strangle too.’ 4 
 This is one of those books which, in the words of Porson,‘will be 
 read when Homer and Virgil are forgotten, but—not till then/ 
 
 The Great Journey, a Pilgrimage through the Valley 
 of Tears to Mount Zion, the City of the living God. 
 
 This is an unassuming little book, which the author calls, a 
 borrowed ray from the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress/ It is neatly 
 ornamented with cuts. A desirable present to the young. 
 
 The most beautiful ray from the ‘ Pilgrim’s 
 Progress,’ which has reached us, is from the pen 
 of that elegant writer, Dr. Cheever of New York. 
 It is The Hill Difficulty, or The Jewish Pilgrim's Pro¬ 
 gress, The Plains of Ease, and other allegories. It 
 has, in addition, some extremely interesting papers. 
 Unfortunately it has not been reprinted in England, 
 but what is worse is, that parts of the volume 
 leaving out the most beautiful, and selecting those 
 that suited a certain purpose, have been printed 
 under the title of Dr. Cheever’s Hill Difficulty —a 
 forgery exceedingly vexatious to an author of such 
 high repute. It is hoped that some honest pub¬ 
 lisher will favour us with an accurate and cheap re¬ 
 print of this instructive allegory. A part left out 
 in the first chapter of the London edition refers to a 
 controversy which has for some time agitated this 
 country, even to the calling forth of a decision in the 
 House of Lords. It is an attempt to get over the 
 Hill Difficulty without trouble; it is thus narrated: 
 
 ‘ There has been constructed there a great balloon, to avoid 
 climbing, named Baptismal Regeneration, in which, by an 
 ingenious chemical use of a little font of water, a very subtle 
 light gas was manufactured to fill the balloon; and then the 
 adventurers, having been made to inhale the same gas, stepped 
 into a car to which the balloon was attached, and were carried 
 along quite swiftly. These adventurei’S all lost their lives in 
 the end, unless they got out of the car, and took to the real 
 pilgrimage. Still the patentees insisted upon this being the 
 only way to salvation.’ He goes on with great humour to 
 show that the Pope was the original patentee. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE OPINIONS OF THE GREAT AND LEARNED, UPON THE 
 MERITS OF THE ‘PILGRIM’S PROGRESS,’ AND THE CAUSES 
 OF ITS POPULARITY. 
 
 To venerate tbe memory of Bunyan. is the duty 
 of every British Christian ; quite as much as it is 
 
 3 British Museum. 
 
 4 Page 113. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY T1IE EDITOR. 
 
 67 
 
 the pride of Englishmen universally to admire tlie 
 genius of Shakspeare or of Milton, the philosophy 
 of Locke, or the philanthropy of Howard. He 
 ought ever to he placed in that constellation which 
 is composed of the brightest luminaries that shed 
 a lustre upon our national literature. His allegory 
 seizes our imagination in childhood, and leaves an 
 indelible impression—it excited our wonder then, 
 and our admiration and esteem in riper age. Thus 
 one of our best poets describes* it as 
 
 ‘ Pleasure derived iu childhood approved in age.’ 
 
 There is a degree of publicity to which we should 
 not like to have seen John Bunyan exposed^ and 
 from which his ‘ Pilgrim ’ had a narrow escape. 
 The amazing popularity of the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress ’ 
 very nearly led to the accomplishment of a strange 
 design, which would have shocked all our puritan 
 feelings. It was a curious attempt of Mr. Gilpin 
 to dress Bunyan a-la-mode, but how much more 
 singular to have introduced him upon the stage in 
 a Royal Metropolitan Theatre!! This was most 
 seriously contemplated. The whole story was 
 turned into an Oratorio, and every preliminary 
 arrangement was made to have brought it out in 
 Lent 1834. 
 
 The manuscript oratorio, with the correspond¬ 
 ence of George Colman the licenser, Mr. Bunn the 
 Manager and Proprietor, and Mr. Mash of the Lord 
 Chamberlain’s Office, are in the Editor’s possession. 
 But the fear of my Lord Bishop of London, whose 
 power could have stopped the license, prevented 
 the attempt to bring into the tainted atmosphere 
 of a theatre, as a dramatic entertainment, the poor 
 burdened pilgrim, his penitence, his spiritual com¬ 
 bats, his journey, and his ascent to the Celestial 
 City. It was to have been introduced with splendid 
 scenery, and with all the fascinating accompani¬ 
 ments of music and painting, as a sacred oratorio, 
 to amuse Christians in the sorrowful, fasting, hypo¬ 
 critical season of Lent. 
 
 Cowper’s apostrophe to Bunyan— 
 
 * Oh tliou. whom, borne on fancy’s eager wing 
 Back to the season of life’s happy spring, 
 
 I pleased remember, and, while memory yet 
 Holds fast her office here, can ne’er forget. 
 
 Ingenious Dreamer! in whose well-told tale 
 Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail; 
 
 Whose humorous vein, strong sense, and simple style, 
 May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile; 
 
 Witty, and well employed, and like thy Lord, 
 
 Speaking in parables his slighted Word. 
 
 1 name thee not, lest so despised a name 
 Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame. 
 
 Yet e’eu iu transitory life’s late day, 
 
 That mingles all my brown with sober gray. 
 
 Revere the man, whose Pilgrim marks the road, 
 
 And guides the Progress of the soul to God. 
 
 ’Twere well with most, if books that could engage 
 Their childhood, pleased them at a riper age ; 
 
 The man, approving what had charmed the boy, 
 
 Would die at last in comfort, peace, and joy.’ 
 
 How rapid lias been the change in public opinion 
 since Cowper’s line was written— 
 
 * Lest so despised a name 1’ 
 
 One of the most magnificent American steamers 
 now bears the alluring name of The John Bunyan ; 
 and in 1849 an advertisement appeared in the 
 London Papers: ‘For Hong Kong and Siiangiiae, 
 will be despatched positively on the 20th of June, 
 the splendid fast sailing-ship John Bunyan.'' 
 
 The influence that the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ had 
 upon a late learned and zealous divine, is well 
 described in the autobiography of the celebrated 
 Dr. Adam Clarke. 
 
 A child’s view of the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’— 
 
 At this early age he read the ' Pilgrim’s Progress,’ as he 
 would read a book of chivalry. Christian was a great hero, 
 by whom the most appalling difficulties were surmounted, the 
 most incredible labours performed, powerful enchantments 
 dissolved, giants conquered, and devils quelled. It was not 
 likely that he would see it as a spiritual allegory , and, there¬ 
 fore, it was no wonder that he could not comprehend how 
 Christian and Hopeful could submit to live several days and 
 nights in the dungeon of Doubting Castle, under the torture 
 of Giant Despair, while the former ‘ had a key in his bosom 
 which could open every lock in that castle.’ 
 
 Lord Kaimes, who did not in the slightest degree 
 partake with Bunyan in bis feelings of veneration 
 for Christianity, admires the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ 
 as being composed in a style enlivened like that 
 of Homer, by a proper mixture of the dramatic and 
 narrative. 
 
 Mr. Grainger, who was of the high church 
 party, in his Biographical History of England, calls 
 it ‘ Bunyan’s masterpiece; one of the most popular, 
 and, I will add, one of the most ingenious books in 
 the English language, ’ 
 
 Dr. S. Johnson, that unwieldy and uncouth 
 leviathan of English literature, who was so thorough 
 bred a churchman as to starve himself on a crossed 
 bun on Good Friday, and to revel in roast beef and 
 good cheer on the day dedicated to Christ’s mass; 
 who was so well taught in the established church 
 as to pray for his wife ‘ Tetty’ thirty years after 
 her decease; yet, even he, with his deep-rooted 
 prejudices against dissenters, cannot withhold his 
 meed of praise—he describes the ‘ Pilgrim’s Pro¬ 
 gress ’ as ‘ a work of original genius, and one of 
 the very few books which every reader wishes had 
 been longer.’ 1 
 
 * Johnson praised John Bunyan highly: his “ Pilgrim’s Pro¬ 
 gress ” has great merit, both for invention, imagination, and 
 the conduct of the story; and it has had the best evidence of 
 its merit, the general and continued approbation of mankind. 
 Few books, I believe, have had a more extensive sale. It is 
 remarkable, that it begins very much like Dante; yet there 
 was no translation of Dante when he wrote. There is reason 
 to think that he had read Spenser.’ 2 
 
 1 Mrs. Piozzi’s Anecdotes. 
 
 2 Boswell’s Life of Johnson, 8vo, vol. ii. p. 219. 
 
G8 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ‘ Jt was by no common merit that the illiterate sectary ex¬ 
 tracted praise like this from the most pedantic of critics, and 
 the most bigoted of Churchmen and Tories.’ 1 
 
 A deeply read, learned, and highly esteemed 
 clergyman told me that when he was young, placed 
 under peculiar circumstances, 2 he read the ‘ Pil¬ 
 grim’s Progress ’ many times ; for when he arrived 
 at the ‘ Conclusion,’ he never thought of changing 
 his book, but turning to the first page, started 
 again with poor Christian, and never felt weary of 
 his company. Well might Dr. Johnson say, it is 
 one of the few books in ■which one can never possibly 
 arrive at the last page. 
 
 Dr. Franklin, whose sound judgment renders 
 bis opinion peculiarly gratifying, in his praise of the 
 4 Pilgrim s Progress,’ comes home to the feelings 
 of all who have read this universally admired book: 
 
 Honest John Banyan is the first I know of who has mingled 
 narrative and dialogue together—a mode of writing very en- 
 gaging to the reader, who, in the most interesting passages, 
 finds himself admitted, as it w'ere, into the company, and pre¬ 
 sent at the conversation.’ 3 
 
 Toplady speaks with the warmth of a Christian, 
 who not only admired , but understood and felt its 
 important truths: 
 
 * The “ Pilgrim’s Progress” is the finest allegorical work 
 extant; describing every stage of a Christian’s experience, 
 from conversion to glorification, in the most artless simplicity 
 of language; yet peculiarly rich with spiritual unction, and 
 glowing with the most vivid, just, and well-conducted ma¬ 
 chinery throughout. It is, in short, a masterpiece of piety 
 and genius; and will, we doubt not, be of standing use to the 
 people of God, so long as the sun and moon endure.’ 
 
 And in his diary, Sunday, Feb. 7, 1768:— 
 
 ‘ In the evening, read Bunyan’s “ Pilgrim.” What a stiff, 
 sapless, tedious piece of work is that written by Bishop Pat¬ 
 rick ! How does the unlearned tinker of Bedford outshine the 
 Bishop of Ely 1 I have heard that his lordship wrote his Pil¬ 
 grim by way of antidote against what he deemed the fanati¬ 
 cism of John Bunyan’s “ Pilgrim.” But what a rich fund of 
 heavenly experience, life, and sweetness, does the latter con¬ 
 tain ! How heavy, lifeless, and unevangelical, is the former! 
 Such is the difference between writing from a worldly spirit 
 and under the influence of the Spirit of God.’ 4 
 
 Dr. Ryland’s opinion was that 
 
 ‘ As a popular practical writer, on a great variety of import¬ 
 ant subjects, for the use of the bulk of common Christians, 
 
 I will dare to affirm that he has few equals in the Christian 
 world. I am persuaded there never has been a writer in the 
 English language whose works have spread so wide, and have 
 been read by so many millions of people, as Mr. Bunyan’s.’ 
 
 1 Macaulay, Edinburgh Review, 1831. 
 
 “ At church, obliged to sit still, while a dull parson read 
 equally dull sermons. 
 
 3 Private Life of Franklin . 
 
 4 Life and Writings of Topladg. Works, vol. i. p. 40. 8vo, 
 
 1825. It may be true that Patrick’s Pilgrim was intended 
 as an antidote to what he considered the fanaticism of Bun- 
 yan s other writings, but the Bishop’s Pilgrim was published 
 prior to that </ John Banyan. 
 
 The Great French Biography (Roman Catholic), 
 having alluded to his employment in prison, adds, 
 
 ‘ Mais il y ecrivit aussi son fameux Voyage du Pelerin, alle- 
 gorie religieuse parfaitement soutenue, qui a eu cinquante 
 editions, et a ete traduite en plusieurs laugucs.’ 5 
 
 James Montgomery:— 
 
 * R has been the lot of John Bunyan, an unlettered artisan, 
 to do more than one in a hundred millions of human beings, 
 even in civilized society, is usually able to do. He has pro¬ 
 duced a work of imagination, of such decided originality, as not 
 only to have commanded public admiration on its first appear¬ 
 ance, but amidst all changes of time and style, and modes of 
 thinking, to have maintained its place in the popular literature 
 of every succeeding age; with the probability that, so long as 
 the language in which it is written endures, it will not cease 
 to be read by a great number of the youth of all future genera¬ 
 tions, at that period of life when their minds, their imagina¬ 
 tions, and their hearts are most impressible with moral excel¬ 
 lence, splendid picture, and religious sentiment. The happy 
 idea of representing his story under the similitude of a dream, 
 enabled him to portray, with all the liveliness of reality, the 
 scenes which passed before him. It makes the reader himself, 
 like the author, a spectator of all that occurs; thus giving him 
 a personal interest in the events, an individual sympathy for 
 the actors and sufferers. It would be difficult to name another 
 work of any kind in our native tongue of which so many edi¬ 
 tions have been printed, of which so many readers have lived 
 and died; the character of whose lives and deaths must have 
 been more or less affected by its lessons and examples, its 
 fictions and realities.’ 
 
 Dr. Cheever:— 
 
 ‘ Perhaps no other work could be named which, admired by 
 cultivated minds, has had, at the same time, such an amelior¬ 
 ating effect on the working classes in society as the “Pilgrim’s 
 Progress.” It is a work so full of native good sense, that no 
 mind can read it without gaining in wisdom and vigour of 
 judgment. It is one of the books that, by being connected 
 with the dearest associations of childhood, always retain their 
 hold on the heart; and it exerts a double influence when, at 
 a graver age, and less under the despotism given to imagina¬ 
 tion in childhood, we read it with a serene and thoughtful 
 perception of its meaning. How many children have become 
 better citizens of the world through life, by the perusal of this 
 book in infancy ! IIow many pilgrims, in hours when perse¬ 
 verance was almost exhausted, and patience was yielding, and 
 clouds and darkness were gathering, have felt a sudden return 
 of animation and courage from the remembrance of Christian’s 
 severe conflicts, and his glorious entrance at last through the 
 gates into the city ! ’ 
 
 Robert Southey: — 
 
 ‘ Bunyan’s fame may be literally said to have risen; begin¬ 
 ning among the people, it made its way up to those who are 
 called the public. In most instances, the many receive 
 gradually and slowly the opinions of the few respecting literary 
 merit; and sometimes, in assentation to such authority, pro¬ 
 fess with their lips an admiration of they know not what. But 
 here the opinion of the multitude has been ratified by the judi¬ 
 cious. The people knew what they admired. It is a book 
 which makes it way through the fancy to the understanding 
 and the heart. The child peruses it with wonder and delight; 
 in youth we discover the genius which it displays; its worth 
 is apprehended as we advance in years; and we perceive its 
 
 5 
 
 8vo. Paris, 1810, tom. iii. p. 412. 
 

 INTRODUCTION 
 
 merits feelingly in declining age. If it is not a well of Eng¬ 
 lish undefiled, to which the poet as well as the philologist must 
 repair, if they would drink of the living waters, it is a clear 
 stream of current English—the vernacular speech of his age— 
 sometimes, indeed, in its rusticity and coarseness, but always 
 in its plainness and its strength.’ 
 
 Coleridge the Poet:— 
 
 ‘The “Pilgrim’s Progress” is composed in the lowest style 
 of English, without slang or false grammar. If you were to 
 polish it, you would at once destroy the reality of the vision. 
 ***** 
 
 ‘ This wonderful work is one of the very few hooks which 
 may be read over repeatedly at different times, and each time 
 with a new and different pleasure. I read it once as a theolo¬ 
 gian, and let me assure you, that there is great theological 
 acumen in the work; once with devotional feelings; and once 
 as a poet; I could not have believed beforehand that Calvinism 
 could be painted in such exquisitely-delightful colours. 
 
 I know of no book, the Bible excepted, as above all com¬ 
 parison, which I, according to my judgment and experience, 
 could so safely recommend, as teaching and enforcing the 
 whole saving truth according to the mind that was in Christ 
 Jesus, as the “Pilgrim’s Progress.” It is, in my conviction, 
 incomparably the best summa theologies evangelicce ever pro¬ 
 duced by a writer not miraculously inspired.’—(May and June, 
 1830. Table Talk , vol. i. pp. 160, 161.) 
 
 Dr. Arnold of Pugby:— 
 
 * 1 have left off reading our divines, because, as Pascal said 
 of the Jesuits, if I had spent my time in reading them fully, 
 
 I should have read a great many indifferent books. But if I 
 could find a great man among them, I would read him thank¬ 
 fully and earnestly. As it is, I hold John Banyan to have 
 been a man of incomparably greater genius than any of them, 
 and to have given a far truer and more edifying picture of 
 Christianity. His “ Pilgrim’s Progress ” seems to be a com¬ 
 plete reflection of Scripture, with uone of the rubbish of the 
 theologians mixed up with it.’—(Dr. Arnold to Justice Cole - 
 ridge, Nov. 30, 1836. Life , vol. ii. p. 65.) 
 
 And, ‘ I have always been struck by its piety; I am now 
 (having read it through again, after a long interval) struck 
 equally, or even more, by its profound wisdom.’—Ibid vol ii 
 p. 65. ' ' 
 
 Mr. Macaulay, from his Review of Southey’s 
 Life of Bunyan :— 
 
 ‘ The characteristic peculiarity of the “ Pilgrim’s Progress ” 
 is, that it is the only work of its kind which possesses a strong 
 human interest. Other allegories only amuse the fancy. It 
 is not so with the “Pilgrim’s Progress.” That wonderful 
 book, while it obtains admiration from the most fastidious 
 critics, is loved by those who are too simple to admire it. 
 
 In the wildest parts of Scotland, it is the delight of the pea¬ 
 santry. In every nursery, the “Pilgrim’s Progress” is a 
 greater favourite than Jack the Giant-killer. 
 
 ‘ Every reader knows the straight and narrow path as well 
 as he knows a road in which he has gone backward and for¬ 
 ward a hundred times. This is the highest miracle of genius 
 
 ' ^at things which are not should be as though they were_ 
 
 that the imaginations of one mind should become the personal 
 recollections of another. And this miracle the tinker has 
 wrought. There is no ascent, no declivity, no resting-place, 
 no turn-stile, with which we are not perfectly acquainted. The 
 wicket-gate, and the desolate swamp which separates it from 
 the City of Destruction—the long line of road, as straight as 
 a rule can make it—the Interpreter’s house, and all its fair 
 
 3Y THE EDITOR. 60 
 
 shows—the prisoner in the iron cage—the palace, at the doors 
 of which armed men kept guard, and on the battlements of 
 which walked persons clothed all in gold—the cross and the 
 sepulchre the steep hill and the pleasant arbour—the stately 
 front of the House Beautiful by the wayside—the low green 
 Valley of Humiliation, rich with grass and covered with flocks 
 are all as well known to us as the sights of our own street. 
 Then we come to the narrow place, where Apollyon strode 
 right across the whole breadth of the way, to stop the journey 
 of Christian ; and where, afterwards, the pillar was set up, to 
 testify how bravely the Pilgrim had fought the good fight. As 
 we advance, the valley becomes deeper and deeper. The shade 
 of the precipices on both sides falls blacker and blacker. The 
 clouds gather over-head. Doleful voices, the clanking of chains, 
 and the rushing of many feet to and fro, are heard through the 
 darkness. The way hardly discernible in gloom, and close by 
 the month of the burning pit, which sends forth its flames, its 
 noisome smoke, and its hideous shapes, to terrify the adven¬ 
 turer. I hence he goes on, amidst the snares and pitfalls, with 
 the mangled bodies of those who have perished lying in the 
 ditch by his side. At the end of the long dark valley, he 
 passes the dens in which the old giants dw r elt, amidst the 
 bones and ashes of those whom they had slain. Then the 
 road passes straight on through a waste moor, till at length 
 the towers of a distant city appear before the traveller; and 
 soon he is in the midst of the innumerable multitudes of 
 Vanity Pair. There are the jugglers and the apes, the shops 
 and the puppet-shows. There are Italian Row, and French 
 Row, and Spanish Row, and Britain Row—with their crowds 
 of buyers, sellers, and loungers, jabbering all the languages of 
 the earth. Thence we go on by the little hill of the silver 
 mine, and. through the meadow of lilies, along the bank of that 
 pleasant river, which is bordered on both sides by fruit-trees. 
 On the left side, branches off the path to that horrible castle, 
 the court-yard of which is paved with the skulls of pilgrims [ 
 and right onward are the sheepfolds and orchards of the 
 Delectable Mountains. From the Delectable Mountains the 
 way lies through the fogs and briers of the Enchanted Ground, 
 with here arid there a bed of soft cushions spread under a green 
 arbour. And beyond is the land of Beulah; where the flowers, 
 the grapes, and the songs ol birds never cease, and where the 
 sun shines night and day. Thence are plainly seen the golden 
 pavements and streets of pearls, on the other side of that black 
 and cold river over which there is no bridge. 
 
 ‘All the stages of the journey—all the forms which cross 
 or overtake the pilgrims —the giants and hobgoblins, ill- 
 favoured ones and shining ones—the tall, comely, swarthy 
 Madam Bubble, with her great purse by her side, and her 
 fingers playing with the money—the black man in the bright 
 vesture—Mr. Worldly-wiseman and my Lord Hate-good—Mr. 
 Talkative and Mrs. Timorous—all are actually existing beings 
 to us. We follow the travellers through their allegorical pro¬ 
 gress, with interest not inferior to that with which we follow 
 idizabeth from Siberia to Moscow, or Jeanie Deans from Edin¬ 
 burgh to London. Bunyan is almost the only writer that 
 ever gave to the abstract the interest of the concrete. Reli¬ 
 gion has scarcely ever worn a form so calm and soothing as in 
 his allegory. The feeling which predominates through the 
 whole book is a feeling of tenderness for weak, timid, and 
 harassed minds. The character of Mr. Fearing — of Mr. 
 Feeble-mind—of Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Miss 
 Much-afraid—the account of poor Little-faith, who was robbed 
 by the three thieves of his spending money—the description 
 of Christian’s terror in the dungeons of Giant Despair, and in 
 his passage through the river—all clearly show how strong a 
 sympathy Bunyan felt, after his own mind had become clear 
 and cheerful, for persons afflicted with religious melancholy. 
 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
70 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ‘ The style of Banyan is delightful to every reader; and 
 invaluable as a study to every person who wishes to obtain a 
 wide command over the English language. The vocabulary 
 is the vocabulary of the common people. There is not an 
 expression, if we except a few technical terms of theology, 
 which would puzzle the rudest peasant. We have observed 
 several pages which do not contain a single word of more than 
 two syllables. Yet no writer has said more exactly what he 
 meant to say. Eor magnificence, for pathos, for vehement 
 exhortation, for subtle disquisition, for every purpose of the 
 poet, the orator, and the divine, this homely dialect—the dia¬ 
 lect of plain working men—was perfectly sufficient. There is 
 no book in our literatiu’e on which we would so readily stake 
 the fame of the old, unpolluted English language; no book which 
 shows so well how rich that language is in its own proper 
 wealth, and how little it has been improved by all that it has 
 borrowed. Though there w r ere many clever men in England 
 during the latter half of the seventeenth century, there were 
 only two great creative minds; one of those mi nds produced 
 the Paradise Lost, the other the “ Pilgrim’s Progress.” 
 
 ‘There are, we think, some characters and scenes in the 
 “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” which can be fully comprehended and 
 enjoyed only by persons familiar with the history of the times 
 through which Bunyan lived. The character of Mr. Great- 
 heart, the guide, is an example. We have not the least doubt 
 that Bunyan had in view some stout old Greatheart of Naseby 
 and Worcester; who prayed with his men before he dialled 
 them; who knew the spiritual state of every dragoon in his 
 troop; and who, with the praises of God in his mouth, and a 
 two-edged sword in his hand, had turned to flight, in many 
 fields of battle, the swearing drunken bravoes of Rupert and 
 Lunsford. Every age produces such men as Bye-ends—he 
 might have found all his kindred among the public men of 
 that time; among the Peers—my Lord Turn-about, my Lord 
 Time-server, and Lord Pair-speech. In the House of Com¬ 
 mons—Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Anything, and Mr. Facing- 
 both-ways; nor would the parson of the parish, Mr. Two- 
 tongues, have been wanting.’ 
 
 Mr. Macaulay’s character of John Bunyan, 
 from his invaluable History of England :— 
 
 ‘ To the names of Baxter and Howe must be added the name 
 of a man far below them in station and in acquired knowledge, 
 but in virtue their equal, and in genius their superior, John 
 Bunyan. Bunyan had been bred a tinker, and had served 
 as a private soldier. Early in life he had been fearfully tor¬ 
 tured by remorse for his youthful sins, the w r orst of which 
 seem, however, to have been such as the world thinks venial. 
 His keen sensibility, and his powerful imagination, made his 
 internal conflicts singularly terrible. At length the clouds 
 broke. Prom the depths of despair, the penitent passed to a 
 state of serene felicity. An irresistible impulse now urged him 
 to impart to others the blessing of which he was himself pos¬ 
 sessed. He joined the Baptists, and became a preacher and 
 writer. His education had been that of a mechanic. He knew 
 no language but the English as it was spoken by the common 
 people. He had studied no great model of composition, with 
 the exception—an important exception undoubtedly—of our 
 noble translation of the Bible. His native force of genius, and 
 his experimental knowledge of all the religious passions, from 
 despair to ecstacy, amply supplied in him the want of learning. 
 His rude oratory roused and melted hearers, who listened, 
 without interest, to the laboured discourses of great logicians 
 and Hebraists. His works are widely circulated among the 
 humbler classes. One of them, the Pilgrim’s Progress, was, 
 in his own lifetime, translated into several foreign languages. 
 It was, however, scarcely known to the learned and polite; and 
 
 had been, during near a century, the delight of pious cottagers 
 and artizans, before it was publicly commended by any man of 
 high literary eminence. At length critics condescended to 
 inquire where the secret of so wide and so durable a popularity 
 lay. They were compelled to own that the ignorant multitude 
 had judged more correctly than the learned, and that the 
 despised little book w r as really a masterpiece. Bunyan, indeed, 
 is as decidedly the first of allegorists, as Demosthenes is the 
 first of orators, or Shakspeare 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 abstrac¬ 
 tions objects of terror, of pity, and of love.’ 
 
 Lord Campbell. —It is one of tlie extraordinary 
 signs of the times in which we live, to witness the 
 highest judicial functionary in the kingdom speak¬ 
 ing, without sectarian partiality, and in the high¬ 
 est terms of praise, of a preaching mechanic. It 
 is in Lord John Campbell’s Life of Chief-Justice 
 Hale, when the judges, before whom. Mrs. Bunyan 
 had so powerfully pleaded for her husband’s liberty, 
 were trumpeted out of Bedford, she burst into tears, 
 saying, ‘Not so much because they are so hard¬ 
 hearted against me and my husband, hut to think 
 what a sad account such poor creatures will have 
 to give at the coming of the Lord:’— 
 
 ‘ Little do we know wbat is for our permanent good,’ says 
 Lord John Campbell. ‘ Had Bunyan then been discharged, 
 and allowed to enjoy liberty, be no doubt would have returned 
 to bis trade, filling up his intervals of leisure with field- 
 preaching ; his name would not have survived his own gene¬ 
 ration, and he could have done little for the religious im¬ 
 provement of mankind. The prison doors were shut upon 
 him for twelve years. Being cut off from the external world, 
 he communed with his own soul; and inspired by Him who 
 touched Elijah’s hallowed lips with fire, he composed the 
 noblest of allegories, the merit of which was first discovered 
 by the lowly, but which is now lauded by the most refined 
 critics; and which has done more to awaken piety, and to 
 enforce the precepts of Christian morality, than all the sermons 
 which have been published by all the prelates of the Anglican 
 church.’ 1 
 
 The Penny Encyclopedia is the only work which 
 has treated the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ with dis¬ 
 respect. Under the article John Bunyan , it says:— 
 
 ‘ Among his works, the “ Pilgrim’s Progress ” has attained 
 the greatest notoriety. If a judgment is to be formed of the 
 merits of a book by the number of times it has been reprinted, 
 and the many languages into which it has been translated, no 
 production in English literature is superior to this coarse alle¬ 
 gory. On a composition which has been extolled by Dr. 
 Johnson, and which, in our own times, has received a very 
 high critical opinion in its favour, it is hazardous to venture a 
 disapproval; and we, perhaps, speak the opinion of a small 
 minority when we confess that to us it appears to be mean, 
 jejune, and wearisome.’ 
 
 Probably this is the glorious minority of one. 
 Such an opinion may excite pity and indignation, 
 hut needs no comment. 
 
 The ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’ has proved an in¬ 
 valuable aid to the Sunday-school Teacher, and to 
 the Missionary. One of the latter wrote home with 
 
 1 Lord Campbell’s Lives of the Chief Justices , vol. i. p. 5G1. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 71 
 
 joy to inform his Christian friends, that a Malay 
 sat up three nights to read it, never having before 
 seen so beautiful a hook, and praying that the Holy 
 Spirit may influence his countrymen to read, and 
 also enlighten their hearts to understand the 
 wondrous dream. The pundit who was engaged to 
 translate it into Singhalese, was so deeply affected 
 by the story, that, at times, he could not proceed ; 
 when he had passed the wicket-gate, and Christian’s 
 burden fell from his shoulders, at the sight of 
 Christ crucified, ho was overcome with joy—he 
 laughed, wept, clapped his hands, danced, and 
 shouted, ‘delightful, delightful! ’ It was especially 
 blessed to the persecuted Christian natives in 
 Ceylon; in their distress when driven from home, 
 in places of danger, they encouraged each other by 
 repeating portions of scripture, and the vivid deli¬ 
 neations of perseverance and triumph from the 
 ‘Pilgrim’s Progress.’ 
 
 No book, the result of human labour and in¬ 
 genuity, has been so eminently useful. Let Homer 
 have the credit of his lofty poem, Plato of his 
 Philosophy, Cicero of his elegancies, and Aquinas 
 of his subtleties; but for real value, as connected 
 with human happiness, our unlettered mechanic 
 rises infinitely their superior. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE MOST PROMINENT PARTS OF THE 
 ‘PILGRIM’S PROGRESS.’ 
 
 Before taking a walk with the pilgrims, to point 
 out a few peculiarities not noticed by commenta¬ 
 tors, it may be well to answer the inquiry so often 
 made—Is the narrative that of the author’s and 
 his wife’s own experience? My humble opinion is 
 that he did not so intend it. His first wife had 
 been for years an inhabitant of the Celestial City, 
 and his second was a decided Christian long be¬ 
 fore his ‘Pilgrim’ was written. At the pillar to 
 commemorate Lot’s wife, Hopeful calls to Chris¬ 
 tian, ‘for he was learned,’—a title, so far as lettered 
 lore was concerned, Bunyan could not have given 
 to himself, nor would he have applied it as to his 
 own spiritual knowledge. It appears not to be 
 intended to portray the experience of any one man 
 or woman, but the feelings, doubts, conflicts, and 
 enjoyments of the Christian character. The whole 
 household of faith embodied and described in the 
 sacred pages, enlarged by his own experience, and 
 that which he discovered in his Christian inter¬ 
 course ; from the first fearful cry, ‘ What shall I 
 do to be saved?’ until the crown of glory and im¬ 
 mortality is put upon his head with the anthem, 
 
 ‘ It is finished, ‘Blessed are the dead who die 
 in the Lord.’ 
 
 Among some very singular discoveries made 
 from the pages of this eminently non-sectarian 
 
 hook, is, that it sanctions the old and curious cus¬ 
 tom of christening infants. The mind capable of 
 making such a discovery, must be familiar with 
 very jesuitic and far-fetched arguments in defence 
 of a custom which, Bunyan thought, set the Bible, 
 and reason too, at defiance, and could only be 
 defended by tradition, handed down to us by the 
 Papists from the dark and gloomy ages of super¬ 
 stition. It is in an edition with notes by Mr. St. 
 John, and a key by II. Wood. 1 In the index there 
 appears the following sentiments under the word— 
 
 ‘ Baptism. —The ordinance of, to be observed, and the ad¬ 
 vantage that children are thereby made partakers, who are 
 thus early admitted into the visible church of Christ. Chris¬ 
 tian’s sons have been married, and their olive branches were 
 springing up, when Christiana and her troop of children and 
 grandchildren had passed the hill Lucre, and arrived at the 
 green meadows. Here they find a house is built for the 
 nourishing and bringing up those Iambs, the babes of those 
 women that go on pilgrimage.’ 
 
 The annotator seizes an opportunity from this 
 parental anxiety to ‘ train up a child in the way 
 he should go,’ to introduce Bunyan as an authority 
 for the christening of infants. 
 
 But to return to our ‘ Pilgrim.’ A charge has 
 been made against the arrangement of the story, 
 because the converts in the town of Vanity are not 
 described as having entered the way by the wicket- 
 gate. They witness the patient endurance of 
 sufferings in Faithful, and are led to feel that 
 there must be some solemn realities in religion to 
 which they were strangers ; we have no account 
 of their convictions nor misery; their Slough of 
 Despond, or entering the wicket-gate, or relief on 
 the sight of Christ crucified, for all this has been 
 already told in Christian’s experience. The lovely 
 inmates in the Palace Beautiful, descriptive of the 
 temper which every member of a Christian church 
 ought to cultivate, are left there as if they went no 
 further towards Zion. Christian’s journey does 
 not appear to occupy the time taken to perform 
 the same distance by Christiana. These, and many 
 other apparent discrepancies, are essential to the 
 author’s design, because he represents it all under 
 the similitude of a Dream. The following quota¬ 
 tions clearly indicate some changes of import¬ 
 ance, interfering with Christian liberty between the 
 writing of the First Part in prison before 1673, 
 and the publication of the Second Part in 1684. 
 When Christiana came to the Slough of Despond, 
 
 ‘ She perceived also, that notwithstanding the command of 
 the King, to make this place for pilgrims good, yet it was 
 rather worse than formerly. For that many there be that 
 pretend to be the King’s labourers; and ihat say they are for 
 mending the King’s highway, that bring dirt and dung instead 
 of stones, and so mar instead of mending.’ 
 
 Before the pilgrims attempted to ascend the 
 
 1 Published by Rickcrby, Sherborne Lane, 1S3S. 
 
72 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Hill Difficulty, they sought for some refreshment, 
 and Great-heart said— 
 
 * This is the spring that Christian drank of before he went 
 up this hill; and then ’twas clear and good; but now ’tis dirty 
 with the feet of some that were not desirous that pilgrims here 
 should quench their thirst.’ 
 
 The two lions in the way to frighten the young 
 inquirer from making a public profession at the 
 Palace Beautiful, may represent the civil and ec¬ 
 clesiastical powers when assuming the throne of 
 God, to judge and compel men as ’to forms of 
 Divine worship. Their effort was to prevent fur¬ 
 ther inquiries, and thus turn the pilgrims back to 
 the City of Destruction; they are chained, to show 
 that these devils are under Divine control, and can 
 only hurt such as they may devour. A cessation, 
 or temporary relief from persecution, puts them to 
 sleep as Faithful passes; and a recollection of the 
 misery and cruelties they had so recently perpe¬ 
 trated, raises Giant Grim to back them, and terrify 
 Christiana, Mercy, and the children. The effects 
 of this cruel persecution of the saints thinned the 
 number of professors. 
 
 * Now, to say the truth, this way had of late laiu much un¬ 
 occupied, and was almost all grown over with grass.’ 
 
 Their fears are at that time dissipated by Great- 
 heart the guide, who slays the Giant. 
 
 While Christiana and her company rest at the 
 town of Vanity, 
 
 ‘ There came a monster out of the woods, and slew many 
 of the people of the town. It would also carry away their 
 children, and teach them to suck its whelps. Now no man in 
 the town durst so much as face this monster; but all men 
 fled when they heard the noise of his coming. This monster 
 propounded conditions to men; and such men as loved their 
 lives more than their souls, accepted those conditions. So 
 they came under.’ 
 
 From all this it is obvious, that between the 
 time when Bunyan wrote the First Part, and the 
 publication of the Second, some painful events had 
 taken place, interfering with a Christian profession. 
 Those iniquitous laws, called the Five Mile and 
 the Conventicle Acts, were passed in the 16, 17, 
 and 22 Charles II.; the first of these imposed 
 ruinous fines, imprisonment, and death, upon all 
 persons above sixteen years of age, who attended 
 Divine service where the Liturgy, the compulsive 
 use of which had proved an awful curse and scourge 
 to the kingdom, was not read. The second or¬ 
 dained that no nonconformist minister should live 
 within five miles of any town. Bunyan did inhabit 
 and live in Bedford by compulsion, but he was not 
 proceeded against, although it would have been as 
 just as was the conduct of the Recorder of London 
 on the trial of Penn, for holding a conventicle; for 
 he ordered an officer of the court to put Penn’s hat 
 on his head, and then fined Penn for having it on! ! 
 The third of these Acts was to suppress all meetings 
 
 for worship among the nonconformists; these were 
 passed in 1665, 1666, and 1671, and in a short 
 time made the frightful desolations to which we have 
 before referred; so that it appears as if the First 
 Part was written before 1666 or 1667, when these 
 abominable laws were enforced, and the Second 
 Part after their effects had been seen and felt. That 
 these horrid laws were obtained and put in force 
 by the clergy, urged on by the bishops, we have 
 melancholy proof. Even all publicans attending 
 any conventicle, had their licenses taken from 
 them. 1 In the diocese of Salisburv, not one dis- 
 senting meeting was left. On October 11, 1666, 
 an order was issued, that in Scotland all leases 
 and rents should be void as to those who did not 
 attend the parish church. Any person holding a 
 conventicle was fined five thousand marks; and at 
 length the King ordered military execution in that 
 kingdom upon all nonconformists, without process 
 or conviction. 2 The result of the severe sufferings 
 of our Scottish forefathers in the faith, was the 
 exemption of their posterity from the use of the 
 detested book. The saints of those days comforted 
 one another with a proverb:—‘ It is better that the 
 body should die to this world by the lions without, 
 than that body and soul should die eternally by our 
 lusts within.’ Interference with the education of the 
 children of dissenters was under the 14 Charles II., 
 which enacts, ‘That no person shall teach any 
 children, whether in a private family or in a school, 
 unless licensed by his diocesan, and all were to be 
 taught according to the Booh of Common Prayer ,’ 
 or ruinous fines and imprisonments were enforced. 
 Thus the Slough of Despond became more foul; the 
 spring of wa ter became muddy ; the lions so thinned 
 the number of pilgrims that the grass grew upon the 
 road, and the monster was very rampant. He who 
 feels no indignation when listening to such enormous 
 crimes perpetrated by wicked laws, has the despi¬ 
 cable spirit of a slave. Nothing but the voice of 
 the Saviour commanding us to forgive his and ojr 
 enemies, could prevent us leading our children to the 
 altar of our God to swear eternal enmity against a 
 system founded on tyranny, and producing as its 
 effects all the abominations of desolation. 
 
 There is great reason to suppose that the man in 
 the iron cage, at the Interpreter’s house, alludes to 
 an apostate, one John Child. He had been a Bap¬ 
 tist minister, and was born at Bedford in 1638. 
 It may have been to him that Burroughs refers in 
 his account of a disputation which he and some 
 Quakers had in Bedford Church with John Bunion, 
 and one Fen, and J. Child, Nov. 23, 1656. They, 
 as Burroughs says, laid down, ‘ That very God 
 and the everlasting Father died on the cross as man. 
 
 1 See Harris’s Life of Charles II., vol. ii. p. 106, &e. 
 * Ibid. p. 120. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 73 
 
 That the Word that was in the beginning was 
 crucified. That justification is without respect 
 to obedience. That there is a light which con- 
 vinceth of sin, besides the light of Christ. That 
 there is no saving knowledge, but comes from with¬ 
 out from heaven.’ * 1 John Child was then only 
 eighteen years of age, and he appears to have been 
 an intimate friend of Bunyan’s, so that when his 
 •Vindication of Gospel Truths’ was published, 
 John Child united in a recommendatory preface— 
 this was in 1657. From a dread of persecution 
 he conformed to the Church of England, and he 
 may be the person referred to in Bunyan’s ‘Defence 
 ol Justification, who said, ‘ If the devil should 
 preach, I would hear him, before 1 would suffer 
 persecution ; as a brave fellow which I could name, 
 in his rant, was pleased to declare.’ This poor 
 wretch afterwards became terrified with awful com¬ 
 punctions of conscience. He was visited by Mr. 
 Keach, Mr. Collins, and a Mr. B. (probably Bun- 
 yan.) When pressed to return to the fold of 
 Christ, he said, ‘ If ever I am taken at a meeting, 
 they will have no mercy on me, and triumph, 
 Tids is the man that made his recantation; and then 
 ruin me to all intents and purposes, and I cannot 
 bear the thought of a cross nor a prison. I had a 
 fancy, the other morning, that the sheriff’s officers 
 were coming to seize all that I had.’ His cries 
 were awful. i I shall go to hell; I am broken in 
 judgment: when I think to pray , either I have a 
 flushing in my face, as if it were in a flame, or 1 
 am dumb and cannot speak. ’ In a fit of desperation 
 he destroyed himself on the 15th October 1684. 
 
 1 his was one of the innumerable unholy triumphs 
 of the state in its interference with religion. 2 
 
 Christian’s sleeping in the arbour, as well as 
 the emblem of the muck-rake seen in the Inter¬ 
 preter’s house, is illustrated by Quarles in his 
 Emblems — 
 
 ‘ Well, sleep thy fill, and take thy soft reposes; 
 
 Bat know, withal, sweet tastes have soar closes; 
 
 And he repents in thorns, that sleeps in beds of roses.’ 3 
 
 And on an avaricious muck-rake— 
 
 * The vulture of insatiate mi nds 
 Still wants, and wanting seeks, and seeking finds 
 New tuel to increase her rav’nous fire/ 4 
 
 The warning giving by Evangelist to the pil¬ 
 grims, that persecution awaited them, might have 
 been drawn from the affectionately faithful conduct 
 of Mr. Giflord, Bunyan’s pastor, in encouraging 
 him to preach in the villages at the risk of impri¬ 
 sonment, and even of death. 
 
 The trial at Vanity Fair is an almost unconscious 
 operation of quiet but keen satire upon the trials 
 which took place at the time, sanctioned by all the 
 
 1 Burroughs’s Works, folio, p. 305. 
 
 I fetation of the Lfe and Death of John Child, ] 734. 
 
 ° Book i.—vii. 4 Book ii.—ii. 
 
 VOL. 111. 
 
 formalities of law: ‘ they brought them forth to 
 their trial in order to their condemnation.’ * The 
 imaginary trial of Faithful, before a jury composed 
 of personified vices, was just and merciful, when 
 compared with the real trial of Lady Alice Lislo 
 before that tribunal where all the vices sat in the 
 person of Jefferies.’ 5 
 
 This is one of the most remarkable passages 
 in the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress.’ It is impossible 
 to doubt that Bunyau intended to satirize the 
 mode in which state trials were conducted undei 
 Charles II. The license given to witnesses for the 
 prosecution, the shameless partiality and ferocious 
 insolence of the judge, the precipitancy and the 
 blind rancour of the jury, remind us of those 
 odious mummeries which, from the Restoration to 
 the Revolution, were merely forms preliminary to 
 hanging, drawing, and quartering. Lord Hate-good 
 performs the office of counsel for the prisoners, as 
 well as Scroggs himself could have performed it. 
 No one who knows the state trials can be at a loss 
 for parallel cases. Indeed, write what Bunyan 
 would, the baseness and cruelty of the lawyers of 
 those times ‘ sinned up to it still,’ and even went 
 beyond it. 
 
 ‘ J<.idye. Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard 
 what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee P 
 
 ‘ Faithful . 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 to thee, let us hear what thou, vile runagate, 
 hast to say/ , 
 
 Had Bunyan possessed lands, or wealth, to have 
 excited the cupidity of the lawyers or informers, 
 he would not have escaped hanging for so faith¬ 
 ful a picture of Judge Jefferies. 
 
 Every dissenter should read the trial of William 
 Penn and William Mead, which took place in 
 August 1670. 6 They were indicted for preach¬ 
 ing in Gracechurch Street, the police and military 
 having taken possession of the Friends’ Meeting¬ 
 house there. The jury refused to find Mend 
 guilty, when the judge addressed them— 4 Gentle¬ 
 men, you shall not be dismissed till we have a 
 verdict that the court will accept; and you shall be 
 locked up without meat, drink, fire, and tobacco. 
 
 \ ou shall not thus think to abuse the court; we 
 will have a verdict, by the help of God, or you 
 shall starve for it. ’ They requested an essential 
 accommodation, but it was peremptorily denied. 
 Having been locked up all night, on the following 
 morning, when the court was opened, the jury 
 again persisted in finding Mead not guilty; and 
 the foreman said, ‘ We have agreed according: to 
 
 i ^ O 
 
 j our consciences.’ The Lord-mayor replied, ‘That 
 conscience of yours would cut my throat;’ he 
 
 0 Edinburgh Review, December 1831. 
 
 0 Male Trials; and also published at the time, price 2d. 
 
 10 
 
74 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 answered, ‘No, my Lord, it never sliall;’ when the 
 Lord-mayor said, ‘ But I will cut yours so soon as 
 I can.’ Again they were locked up until the 
 evening; they then kept to their verdict, when the 
 Lord-mayor threatened, to cut the foreman’s nose. 
 Penn said, ‘ It is intolerable that my jury should 
 be thus menaced,’ when the Mayor cried out, 
 
 ‘ Stop his mouth; jailer, bring fetters, and stake 
 him to the ground.’ Penn replied calmly, ‘Do 
 your pleasure; I matter not your fetters:’ and the 
 recorder thus addressed the jury, ‘ I say you shall 
 go together, and bring in another verdict, or you 
 shall starve.’ A second night they were locked 
 up without food or accommodation. On the third 
 morning these true-born Englishmen again brought 
 in their verdict not guilty, and for this the jury 
 were sent as prisoners to Newgate!!! Their names 
 were, Thomas Veer, Edward Bushell, John Ham¬ 
 mond, Henry Henley, Henry Michel, John Bright- 
 man, Charles Milson, Gregory Walklet, John Baily, 
 William Lever, James Damask, and Wil Plumsted 
 —names that ought to be printed in gold, and 
 exhibited in the house of every nonconformist, and 
 sculptured in marble to ornament our new House 
 of Commons. The effects of persecution for re¬ 
 fusing to obey man when he usurped the throne 
 of God, hastened an approaching era. England 
 shuddered; dissenters increased ; and eventually 
 the King saved his contemptible head by the quick¬ 
 ness of his heels. Toleration succeeded persecu¬ 
 tion, and it is now time that freedom should take the 
 place of toleration, and the liberties of Englishmen 
 be freed from the polluted touch of any hierarchy. 
 
 The difference between the time when the First 
 Part of the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’ was written, and 
 the Second printed, appears very strikingly in the 
 state of the town of Vanity. ‘ In those days we 
 were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can 
 show our heads. Then the name of a professor 
 was odious, now, specially in some parts of our i 
 town, religion is counted honourable.’ 
 
 The surprising difference between then and now 
 can only be accounted for by the Declaration for 
 liberty of conscience made in 1672, while the 
 author w r as in prison, proving by strong circum¬ 
 stantial evidence that the First Part was written 
 before 1672, the Second h aving been written before 
 1684, and even then the nonconformist ministers 
 were called ‘kidnappers;’ 1 and very soon after 
 this, persecution again lifted up her accursed head. 
 
 How keenly does Christian unravel the subtleties 
 of By-ends and his company! Bunyan was aw¬ 
 fully but justly severe against hypocrisy upon such 
 as named the name of Christ, and did not depart 
 from iniquity. In his « Holy Life, the Beauty of 
 Christianity,’ he thus addresses such characters: 
 
 ‘Christ calls them hypocrites, whited walls, painted 
 sepulchres, fools, and blind. This is the man that 
 Hath the breath of a dragon ; he poisons the air 
 round about him. This is the man that slays his 
 children, his kinsmen, his friend, and himself ; that 
 offends his little ones. Oh ! the millstone that 
 God will shortly hang about your neck, when the 
 time is come that you must be drowned in the sea 
 and deluge of God’s wrath.’ 2 
 
 When By-ends would have joined the Pilgrim’s 
 company, Christian was decided : ‘ Not a step 
 further, unless you will own religion in his rags as 
 well as when in his silver slippers, and stand by 
 him, too, when hound in irons.’ A writer in the 
 Edinburgh .Review 3 very justly says— 
 
 ‘ The town of Bedford probably contained more than one poli¬ 
 tician, who, after contriving to raise an estate by seeking the 
 Lord during the reign of the saints, contrived to keep what he 
 had got by persecuting the saints during the reign of the 
 strumpets.’ 
 
 Christian having admirably triumphed over these 
 enemies and over Demas, becomes confident, and 
 not only involves himself, hut leads his companion 
 into great trouble, by leaving the strait but rough 
 road, and thus falling into the hands of a fearful 
 giant. While in the dungeon, and suffering under 
 awful doubts, Bunyan aptly introduces the subject 
 of suicide. This dialogue upon self-murder, between 
 Christian and Hopeful in Doubting Castle, might 
 have been intended as an antidote to Dr. Donne’s 
 singular treatise to prove ‘ that self-homicide is not 
 so naturally sin, that it may never be otherwise.’ 
 So singular a thesis by a learned man and a digni¬ 
 tary of the Church, must have made a deep im¬ 
 pression upon the public. It was published by 
 authority in 1644. In his preface, the learned 
 Doctor says, ‘ Whether it be because I had my 
 first breeding and conversation with men of a sup¬ 
 pressed and afflicted religion, accustomed to the 
 despite of death, or from other causes ; whensoever 
 any affliction assails me, methinks I have the keys 
 of the prison in my own hand, and no remedy pre¬ 
 sents itself so soon to my heart as mine own sword. 
 Often meditation of this hath won me to a charitable 
 interpretation of their action who die so; ’ and his 
 conclusion is, 4 ‘ that self-homicide may be free, 
 not only from enormous degrees of sin, but from 
 all.’ The whole work displays great learning and 
 extreme subtlety ; I doubt much whether St. 
 Thomas Aquinas could have argued so absurdly 
 wicked a proposition better; and against such an 
 adversary Bunyan appears in the person of Hope¬ 
 ful, and in a few words dissipates all the mist of 
 his subtleties, and exposes the utter peril and 
 destruction that must follow so awful a sin as self- 
 murder. The dignitary of the Church was taught 
 
 - Sec vol. ii. p. 53U. 3 December 1331. 
 
 * Doune’s Thesis, p. 26. 
 
 1 Marginal note to Second Bart of the ‘ Pilgrim.’ 
 
75 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 by schoolmen a difference between sins which a 
 simple Christian could not have conceived. Dr. 
 Donne quotes the penitential canons which inflict 
 a greater penance upon one who kills his wife, than 
 upon one who kills his mother; ‘ not that the fault 
 is greater, but that, otherwise, more would commit 
 it. ’ 2 3 Our pious Pilgrim, taught by the Holy Spirit, 
 abhors all sin as bringing the curse of the law upon 
 the sinner, and requiring the blood of atonement 
 to cleanse its stain. 
 
 The view of those who fell under despair, as 
 seen from the Delectable Mountains, is exactly in 
 accordance with the experience narrated in the 
 ‘ Grace Abounding,’ No. 186. ‘0 the urithought-of 
 imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that are 
 affected by a thorough application of guilt, yielded 
 to desperation ! this is the man that hath his 
 dwelling among the tombs with the dead.’ Compare 
 this with the Pilgrim’s feelings in Doubting Castle, 
 and their view from the Delectable Mountains. 
 
 Punyan was by nature a philosopher; lie knew 
 the devices of Satan, and warns the professor of 
 his danger of backsliding. The conversation upon 
 this subject between the pilgrims, opens the depths 
 of the human heart, and the subtleties of Satan. 
 One Temporary represents those professors who 
 return to the world; lie had wept under a sense 
 of sin; had set out on pilgrimage, but was per¬ 
 verted by Save-self. Christian had a narrow escape 
 from Worldly-wiseman, but Temporary was lost. 
 He warns the pilgrim of one great device of the 
 enemy in his treatise of ‘A Holy Life.’ ‘Take 
 heed, professor, of those sins which Satan finds 
 most suitable to your temper and constitution; ’ 
 these, as the little end of the wedge, enter with 
 ease, and so make way for those that come alter, 
 with which Satan knows he can rend the soul in 
 pieces. 
 
 In the conversation with Ignorance, Bunyan 
 speaks the sentiments, but not in the language of 
 Arthur Dent, when, in the Plain Man s Pathway 
 to Heaven , he says— 
 
 ‘ You measure yourselves by yourselves, aud by others; 
 which is a lalse mete-wand. For you seem to lie straight, so 
 long as you are measured by yourselves aud by others; but lay 
 the rule of God’s Word unto you, and then you lie altogether 
 crooked.’ 
 
 At length Christian and Hopeful arrive at the 
 river which has no bridge; they cross in safety, 
 and ascend to blessedness, which ‘ eye hath not 
 seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the 
 heart of man to conceive.’ We see them enter, 
 and are ready to exclaim— 
 
 * Celestial visions—Then the wondrous story, 
 
 Of Bunyan's Pilgrims seem’d a tale most true ; 
 
 How he beheld their entrance into glory, 
 
 Aud saw them pass the pearly portal tlirough; 
 
 f TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 Catching, meanwhile, a beatific view 
 Of that bright city, shining like the sun 
 Whose glittering streets appear’d of golden hue, 
 
 Where spirits of the just their conflicts done, 
 
 Walk d in white robes, with palms, and crowned every one.'* 
 
 After having accompanied the Pilgrim and his 
 friend Hopeful to the gates of the Celestial City, 
 and longed to enter with him into the realms of 
 bliss, we naturally revert to his widow and orphans, 
 and with renewed delight do we find the truth of 
 the promise: ‘Thy Maker is thy husband,’ ‘a 
 father to the fatherless.’ We unite heart and 
 soul with the amiable family at the Interpreter’s 
 house, who ‘ leaped for joy ’ when they arrived. 
 And on reaching the Palace Beautiful, ‘ 0 what 
 a noise for gladness was there within, when the 
 
 Damsel did but drop that word out of her mouth_ 
 
 Christiana and her boys have come on pilgrimage!’ 
 Having been the road before, we feel renewed 
 pleasure at every step, and richly enjoy our new 
 companions; for the inexhaustible treasures of 
 Bunyan’s mind furnishes us with new pleasures 
 every step of the way. 
 
 Bunyan s views of church-fellowship show his 
 heavenly-mindedness, and happy would it be for 
 the church if all its members were deeply imbued 
 with these peaceful, lovely principles; he thus 
 expresses them: 
 
 ‘ Christians are like the several Flowers in a garden, that 
 have upon each of them the Dew of Heaven, which being 
 shaken with the wind, they let fall their dew at each other’s 
 roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, and become nour- 
 ishers of one another. Also where the Gardiner has set them, 
 there they stand, and quarrel not with oue another. For 
 Christians to commune savourly of God’s matters one with 
 another, it is as if they opened to each other’s nostrils Boxes 
 of Perfumes. 1 Saith Paul to the Church at Rome: I long to see 
 you , that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift , to the 
 end you may be established; that is, that I may be comforted 
 together with you , by the mutual faith both of you anal me' 
 Rom. i. 11, 12. 
 
 The character of Mercy is lovely throughout the 
 whole journey; but there is a circumstance in her 
 courtship which may not be generally understood. 
 It is where she refers to the conduct of her brother- 
 in-law to her sister Bountiful—a method of separ¬ 
 ating man and wife at all times perfectly illegal, 
 and happily at present unknown: ‘ Because my 
 sister was resolved to do as she begun, that is, to 
 show kindness to the poor, therefore her husband 
 first cried her down at the cross, and then turned 
 her out of his doors. ’ This is a summary mode of 
 
 V 
 
 divorce, not mentioned in any work on vulgar cus¬ 
 toms or popular antiquities. My kind friend, the 
 Rev. J. Jukes, the pastor of the church at Bedford, 
 informs me, ‘ That the practice of crying a wife at 
 
 2 Barton’s Minor Poems , p. 75. 1824, fcp. 8vo. 
 
 3 Vol. ii. p. 570; Treatise on ‘Christian Behaviour;’ see 
 also the ‘Pilgrim,’ Part II., of the garden in the Interpreter’s 
 house. 
 
 1 Page 28, 
 
76 
 
 TTIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 tlie market-cross seems to have prevailed in Bed¬ 
 fordshire almost to the present time, and to have 
 been merely a mode of advertisement to the public, 
 that the husband would not pay the debts of his 
 wife, contracted subsequent to the time when it 
 occurred. ’ 
 
 The character of Mr. Brisk is wittily drawn in 
 Bunyan’s Emblems:— 
 
 —* Candles that do hlinlc within the socket. 
 
 And saints whose eyes are always in their pocket, 
 
 Are much alike; such candies make ns fumble; 
 
 And at such saints, good men and bad do stumble.’ 
 
 Bunyan enjoyed the beauties of nature, espe¬ 
 cially the singing of birds; thus when Christiana 
 leaves the Palace Beautiful, the songs of the birds 
 are reduced to poetry, to comfort the pilgrims. A 
 bird furnished him with one of his Divine Emblems. 
 It is upon the lark:— 
 
 ‘ This pretty bird, oh! how she flics and sings 
 
 But could she do so if she had not wings ? 
 
 Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my peace; 
 
 ’When I believe and sing, my doubtings cease.’ 
 
 Mercy longs for that mirror which flatters not, 
 and the shepherds give her a Bible. Modern 
 Christians may wonder that she had not previously 
 furnished herself with one; doubtless she had the 
 use of one, and all her pocket-money went to re¬ 
 lieve the distresses of the poor of Christ’s flock. 
 Think of the thousands of pious men and women 
 incarcerated in dungeons, because they loved 
 Christ, and dared not violate conscience. What 
 a charge upon those saints who possessed the 
 means of rendering them assistance ! The re¬ 
 venues of the Church by law established were 
 never used for the distribution of Bibles. The 
 Church had obtained a most enormous and in¬ 
 jurious privilege, for the sole printing of Bibles in 
 all languages, to withhold altogether, or give a 
 supply as they chose. The natural consequence 
 of this was, a high price for books printed on bad 
 paper, and miserably incorrect. Of late years, 
 part of the wealth she derived from her monopoly 
 in printing incorrect Bibles has been wrung from 
 her, and the Word of life now flows all pure as a 
 mighty river, to refresh the earth. All honour be 
 paid to those who fought that battle, and obtained 
 that important victory. In Bunyan’s time, the 
 Church allowed it only ‘ in a niggard stream, and 
 that polluted.’ Herbert has well expressed the 
 value of the mirror which Mercy longed for:— 
 
 * The Bible is the looking -glass of souls, wherein 
 All men may see 
 "Whether they be 
 
 Still as by nature they are, deformed with sin; 
 
 Or in a better case, 
 
 As new adorned with grace.’ 1 
 
 And he has tints shown the value of its sacred 
 pages, to guide the benighted travellers: ‘Great- 
 heart struck a light, and took a view of his book 
 or map.’ 
 
 «The Bible! That’s the book. The book indeed, 
 
 The book of books ! 
 
 On which who looks, 
 
 As he should do aright, shall never need 
 Wish for a better light 
 To guide him in the night.’ 2 
 
 The Christian reader can scarcely know, after 
 having read the whole volume, which gave the 
 greatest enjoyment—whether travelling in com¬ 
 pany with Christian and his bosom friend, or the 
 delightful feelings excited by witnessing the ma¬ 
 tronly conduct of Christiana; seeing her modest 
 friend, Mercy, a lovely companion, or the excellent 
 picture of child-like behaviour in the four boys: 
 retracing the road, every step becomes delightfully 
 interesting, and the Valley of Humiliation the most 
 lovely picture of the whole. The courtship of 
 Mr. Brisk—the additions to their company—the 
 weddings, and the happy close 3 —this, with the 
 final perseverance of the whole party, leads every 
 reader earnestly to wish for a Third Part, more 
 adventures, more of the Divine goodness, more 
 proofs that in this world, with all its bitterness, 
 the gospel of Jesus Christ makes its possessors 
 happy; yes, ‘ we have the promise of the life that 
 now is, as well as of that which is to come.’ But 
 death, probably from the latent effects of his im¬ 
 prisonment, cut short the valuable life of the pil¬ 
 grim’s friend. And now, after long neglect, his 
 country is teeming with his name as a national 
 honour, and scarcely knows how sufficiently to 
 show respect and admiration to his memory. Mag¬ 
 nificent merchant-ships bear that name to oriental 
 and transatlantic countries. Several thousand 
 pounds have been subscribed to adorn the scene 
 of his labours at Bedford, with a Bunyan Chapel, 
 capable of seating about twelve hundred worship¬ 
 pers— a more appropriate monument to his memory 
 than a statue or a splendid tomb. The pens of 
 our greatest literary men have been employed to 
 exhibit his singular piety, his extraordinary talent, 
 and his extensive usefulness, and his image is to 
 be placed with those of Milton, Shakspeare, Hamp¬ 
 den, and the giant men who have shed glory upon 
 this nation, in the splendid new house in which the 
 Commons of England are to hold their sittings. 
 
 Hackney, Sept. 1850. GEO. OfFOR. 
 
 2 Herbert’s Synagogue , p. 15. 
 
 3 The last words of Christiana were—‘ I come. Lord, to be 
 with thee, and bless thee.’ 
 
 - ‘ How my heart 
 
 Longs, JESUS, for tliy coming! to set free, 
 
 Tli’ imprison’d pilgrim from frail flesh and sin, 
 
 From evil and from death, to wing her way, 
 
 Her joyful way, to liberty and thee 1* 
 
 1 Herbert’s Synagogue , p. 1. 
 
 i 
 
THE PILGRIM’S P R OGRESS 
 
 FROM 
 
 THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME: 
 
 DELIVERED UNDER 
 
 THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 
 
 By JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Tins edition is prepared from a careful collation of the twelve editions published by the author 
 during his life. It embraces the whole allegory in its native simplicity and beauty; illustrated with 
 appropriate engravings ; and variorum Notes; being extracts from Bunyan’s various treatises which 
 illustrate the ‘ Pilgrim s Progress, together with the most striking and valuable Notes by Clieever, 
 Macaulay, Newton, Mason, Scott, Ivimey, Burder, M‘Nicoll, Dr. Dodd, and other Commentators, with 
 a few by the Editor. To preserve the uniformity of the text, the fac-similes of all the original wood- 
 cuts, with the verse under each, are placed together in the order in which they first appeared ; 
 presenting a short pictorial outline of the principal scenes of this spiritual pilgrimage, in those rude 
 representations which so delighted and interested us in our childhood. 
 
 SYNOPSIS OF THE ALLEGORY BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 FIRST PART. 
 
 The Author’s Apology, a poem. Graceless becomes 
 a Christian; alarmed for the safety of his soul; is 
 treated by his familj as one diseased; guided by Evan¬ 
 gelist; runs towards the Wicket-gate; is overtaken 
 by Obstinate and Pliable; persuades Pliable to fly with 
 him; fall into the Slough of Despond; Pliable returns; 
 Christian, assisted by Help, goes on; meets Worldly- 
 wiseman; complains of his burden, and is sent out 
 of his way to the house of Legality; terrified at Mount 
 Sinai; Evangelist appears and puts him again into the 
 right road; arrives at the Wicket-gate; is admitted 
 by Good-will, and sent to the Interpreter’s house; is 
 shown a picture; a dusty room; Passion and Patience; 
 the fire of grace; the valiant man; the man in de¬ 
 spair ; the trembler; proceeds to the cross; loses his 
 burden; angels give him a pardon, new clothing, a 
 mark, and a roll; tries to alarm three men asleep, but 
 in vain; meets Formalist and Hypocrisy; ascends the 
 hill Difficulty; sleeps in the Arbour, and drops his roll; 
 is awakened, and pursues his journey; meets Mistrust 
 and Tinlorous; misses his roll; returns in grief, and 
 recovers it; goes on to the Palace Beautiful; encour- 
 aged by Watchful, he passes the lions, and, after exam¬ 
 ination, is admitted according to the laics of the house; 
 entertained ; sleeps in the Chamber of Peace; sees the 
 study; the armoury; the Delectable Mountains; enters 
 the V alley of 1 tumiliation; fights with and overcomes 
 
 Apollyon; comes to the Valley of the Shadow of Death; 
 terrified by the spies; assaulted with foes who care 
 not for his sword; betakes himself to another weapon, 
 c All-prayer; ’ comes out of the Valley, and passes the 
 old giants. Pagan and Pope; overtakes Faithful, a 
 fellow-pilgrim; hold communion with each other; con¬ 
 verse with Talkative; Evangelist forewarns them of 
 persecution; enter Vanity Fair; are maltreated; im¬ 
 prisoned; Faithful is tried and burned; Christian pur¬ 
 sues his journey, and is joined by Hopeful; By-ends 
 wishes to join them; the sophistry of Iiold-the-world 
 detected; Demas tempts them to the hill Lucre, but 
 they refuse; arrive at the River of the Water of Life; 
 they go into By-path Meadow; follow Vain-Confidence; 
 are taken by Giant Despair, and imprisoned in Doubt¬ 
 ing Castle; arguments for and against suicide; escape 
 by the Key of Promise; erect a pillar to caution 
 others; arrive at the Delectable Mountains; enter¬ 
 tained by the shepherds; are shown Mounts Error, 
 Caution, and Clear; see the Celestial Gate; receive 
 some cautions; fail in attempting to convert Igno¬ 
 rance; robbery of Little-faith; meet the Flatterer, 
 and are caught in his net; released by a Shining 
 One; meet Atheist; adventures on the Enchanted 
 Ground; means of watchfulness; enter the Land 
 of Beulah; are sick with love; approach the River 
 of Death; no bridge; full of fear and dread, but 
 get safely over; received by angels; admitted to 
 glory. 
 
 I 
 
 4 
 
 T 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 sx 
 
 
 
SYNOPSIS OP THE ALLEGORY. 
 
 73 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 The Author’s way of sending it forth, a poem. 
 Sagacity narrates how Christiana, the widow of Chris¬ 
 tian, reflects upon her former conduct, feels her danger, 
 and agrees with her children to follow her late liusband 
 in pilgrimage; is encouraged by a secret influence on 
 her mind that she would be received; her neighbours 
 dissuade her, but she prevails upon one of them, Mercy, 
 to go with her; she is reviled by her acquaintance; 
 get over the Slough of Despond, and are admitted at 
 the Wicket-gate, and rejoice together. They are fed, 
 washed, and sent on their way; the children eat the 
 enemies’ fruit; are assaulted, but rescued by the Re¬ 
 liever ; arrive at the Interpreter’s house; shown the 
 significant rooms, the man who prefers a muck-rake to 
 a celestial crown, the spider in the best room, the hen 
 and chickens, butcher and sheep, the garden, the field, 
 the robin; the Interpreter’s proverbs; tree rotten at 
 heart; they relate their experience; Mercy is sleepless 
 for joy; they are washed, which enlivens and strengthens 
 them; sealed and clothed; Great-heart guards them to 
 the house called Beautiful; pass the sepulchre where 
 Christian lost his burden; pardon by word and deed, 
 an important distinction; see Simple, Sloth, and Pre¬ 
 sumption hanging; names of those that they had 
 ruined; Hill Difficulty; By-ways, although stopped 
 and cautioned, still entered; rest in the Arbour, but 
 are afraid to sleep; still suffer by forgetfulness; 
 punishment of Timorous and Mistrust; Giant Grim 
 slain; pilgrims arrive at the Palace Beautiful; Great- 
 heart returns; they are entertained for a month; the 
 children catechised; Mr. Brisk makes love to Mercy; 
 her sister Bountiful’s unhappy marriage; Matthew 
 sick with the enemies’ fruit; is healed by Dr. Skill; 
 his prescriptions; instructive questions; they are ■ 
 greatly strengthened; Mr. Great-heart sent to guard j 
 them; enter the Valley of Humiliation, and are pleased 
 with it; shepherd boy’s song; see the place where 
 Christian and Apollyon fought; come iffio the Valley 
 of the Shadow of Death ; are greatly terrified ; Giant 
 Maul slain; find Old Honest, a pilgrim, sleeping; he 
 joins them; story of Mr. Bearing; good men some¬ 
 times much in the dark; he fears no difficulties, only 
 lest he should deceive himself; case of Self-will; a j 
 
 singular sect in the author’s time; are entertained at 
 the house of Gaius; pilgrims the descendants of the 
 martyrs; Matthew and Mercy betrothed; riddles in 
 verse; Slay-good, a giant, slain; Peeble-mind rescued; 
 proves to be related to Mr. Bearing; Not-right killed 
 with a thunder-bolt; Matthew and Mercy, and James 
 and Phebe,married; Peeble-mind and Ready-to-halt join 
 the pilgrims ; profitable converse between Honest and 
 Great-heart; Vanity Bair; the death of Paithful had 
 planted a little colony of pilgrims there; pleasant com¬ 
 munion; courage and an unspotted life essential to 
 pilgrims; Samuel and Grace, and Joseph and Martha, 
 married. The Monster [state religion] assaulted and 
 wounded; believed by some that he will die of his 
 wounds; pass the place where Paithful was martyred; 
 the silver mine ; Lot’s wife ; arrive at the river near 
 the Delectable Mountains; By-path Meadow; slay 
 Giant Despair, and Diffidence, his wife, and destroy 
 Doubting Castle ; release Mr. Despondency and Miss 
 Much-afraid; Great-heart addresses the shepherds in 
 rhyme; Mounts Marvel, Innocent, and Charity; see 
 the hole in the side of the Hill; Mercy longs for a 
 curious mirror; the pilgrims are adorned; story of 
 Turn-away; find Valiant-for-truth wounded by thieves ; 
 account of his conversion; the question debated, that 
 if we shall know ourselves, shall we know others in 
 the future state ? arguments used by relatives to pre¬ 
 vent pilgrimage; the Enchanted Ground; an arbour 
 called the Slothful’s Briend; in doubt as to the way, 
 the book or map is examined; Heedless and Bold in a 
 fatal sleep; surprised by a solemn noise, they are led 
 to Mr. Stand-fast in prayer, he having been assailed 
 by Madam Bubble; arrive in the Land of Beulah, and 
 are delighted with celestial visions on the borders of 
 the River of Death; Christiana summoned, addresses 
 her guide, and blesses her children and her fellow- 
 pilgrims; her last words; Mr. Ready-to-halt passes 
 the River ; Peeble-mind is called, will make no 
 will, and goes up to the Celestial City; Despond- 
 ency and Much-afraid die singing; Honest dies sing¬ 
 ing Grace reigns; Valiant-for-truth and Stand-fast 
 joyfully pass the river, leaving a solemn message 
 to relatives. Joy in heaven on the arrival of the 
 pilgrims. Christiana’s children a blessing to the 
 church. 
 
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THE AUTHOR’S APOLOGY 
 
 FOR HIS BOOK. 
 
 When at the first I took my pen in hand, 
 
 Thus for to write, I did not understand 
 That I at all should make a little book 
 In such a mode: nay, I had undertook 
 To make another; which, when almost done. 
 
 Before I was aware, I this begun. 
 
 And thus it was : I writing of the way 
 And race of saints, in this our gospel-day, 
 
 Fell suddenly into an allegory 
 
 About their journey, and the way to glory, 
 
 In more than twenty things, which I set down; 
 This done, I twenty more had in my crown; 
 
 And they again began to multiply, 
 
 Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. 
 
 Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, 
 ril 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 neighbour; no, not I; 
 
 I did it mine own self to gratify. 
 
 Neither did I but vacant seasons spend 
 In this my scribble; nor did I intend 
 But to divert myself in doing this. 
 
 From worser thoughts which make me do amiss. 
 
 Thus I set pen to paper with delight, 
 
 And quickly had my thoughts on black and white. 
 For having now my method by the end, 
 
 Still as I pull’d it came; and so I penn’d 
 It down; until it came at last to be. 
 
 For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. 
 
 Well, when I had thus put mine ends together, 
 
 I show’d them others, that I might see whether 
 They would condemn them, or them justify: 
 
 And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die. 
 Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so: 
 Some said, It might do good; others said, No. 
 
 Now was I in a strait, and did not see 
 Which was the best thing to be done by me: 
 
 At last I thought; since you are thus divided, 
 
 I print it will; and so the case decided. 
 
 For, thought I, some, I see, would have it done, 
 Though others in that channel do not run: 
 
 To prove then, who advised for the best. 
 
 Thus I thought fit to put it to the test. 
 
 I further thought, if now I did deny 
 Those that would have it, thus to gratify; 
 
 I did not know, but hinder them I might 
 Of that which would to them be great delight. 
 
 For those which were not for its coming forth, 
 
 I said to them, OJfend you I am loath ; 
 
 Yet since your brethren pleased with it be, 
 
 Forbear to judge, till you do further see. 
 
 If that thou wilt not read, let it alone; 
 
 Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone. 
 Yea, that I might them better palliate , 1 
 I did too with them thus expostulate: 
 
 May I not write in such a style as this ? 
 
 In such a method too, and yet not miss 
 My end—thy good ? Why may it not be done ? 
 Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring 
 none. 
 
 Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops 
 Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops, 
 Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either. 
 
 But treasures up the fruit they yield together: 
 
 Yea, so commixes both, that in her fruit 
 None can distinguish this from that; they suit 
 Her well when hungry: but if she be full, 
 
 She spews out both, and makes their blessings null. 
 
 You see the ways the fisherman doth take 
 To catch the fish; what engines doth he make! 
 Behold! how he engageth all his wits; 
 
 Also his snares, fines, angles, hooks, and nets. 
 
 Yet fish there be, that neither hook nor fine. 
 
 Nor snare, nor net, nor engine can make thine: 
 They must be grop’d for, and be tickled too, 
 
 Or they will not be catch’d, whate’er you do. 
 
 1 In the first eight editions published by Bunyan, the word 
 ‘ palliate ’ is used; but in the ninth (1684), and subsequently, 
 it was altered to * moderate.’—G5 d.) 
 
86 
 
 THE AUTHOR’S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. 
 
 
 How does the fowler seek to catch his game 
 By divers means ! All which one cannot name : 
 His gun, his nets, his lime-twigs, light and hell: 
 
 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 toad’s head dwell, 
 
 And may be found too in an oyster-shell; 
 
 If things that promise nothing, do contain 
 What better is than gold; who will disdain, 
 
 That have an inkling 1 of it, there to look, 
 
 That they may find it ? Now my little book, 
 (Though void of all those paintings 2 that may make 
 It -with this or the other man to take). 
 
 Is not without those things that do excel. 
 
 What do in brave, 3 but empty notions dwell. 
 
 Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, 
 
 That this your book will stand, when soundly tried. 
 
 Why, what’s the matter? It is dark. What 
 though ? 4 
 
 But it is feigned. What of that, I trow ? 
 
 Some men by feigned words, as dark as mine. 
 
 Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine! 
 
 But they want solidness : Speak, man, thy mind: 
 They drown the weak, metaphors make us blind. 
 
 My dark and cloudy words they do but hold 
 The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. 
 
 The prophets used much by metaphors 
 To set forth truth: Yea, who so considers 
 Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see. 
 That truths to this day in such mantles be. 
 
 Am I afraid to say, that Holy Writ, 
 
 Which, for its style and phrase, puts down all wit. 
 Is everywhere so full of all these things 
 (Dark figures, allegories), yet there springs 
 From that same book, 5 that lustre, and those rays 
 Of light, that turn our darkest night to days. 
 
 Come, let my carper to his life now look, 
 
 And find there darker lines than in my book 
 He findeth any. Yea, and let him know, 
 
 That in his best things there are worse lines too. 
 
 May we but stand before impartial men, 
 
 To his poor one I dare adventure ten; 
 
 That they will take my meaning in these lines 
 Far better than his lies in silver shrines. 
 
 Come, truth, although in swaddling clouts, I find, 
 Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind; 
 
 Pleases the understanding, makes the will 
 Submit; the memory, too, it doth fill 
 With what doth our imaginations please; 
 Likewise, it tends our troubles to appease. 
 
 Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen 
 Of him that writeth things divine to men: 
 
 But must I needs want solidness, because 
 By metaphors I speak ? Were not God’s laws, 
 His gospel-laws, in olden time held forth 
 By types, shadows, and metaphors ? Yet loath 
 Will any sober man be to find fault 
 With them, lest he be found for to assault 
 The highest wisdom. No ; he rather stoops, 
 And seeks to find out what by pins and loops; 
 By calves and sheep; by heifers and by rams; 
 By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs, 
 God speaketh to him. And happy is he 
 That finds the light and grace that in them be. 
 
 Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude 
 That I want solidness, that I am rude: 
 
 All things solid in show, not solid be; 
 
 All things in parables despise not we. 
 
 Lest things most hurtful, lightly we receive; 
 And things that good are, of our souls bereave. 
 
 Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use. 
 
 And old wives’ fables he is to refuse; 
 
 But yet grave Paul him nowhere did forbid 
 The use of parables; in which lay hid 
 That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were 
 Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. 
 
 Let me add one word more. 0 man of God! 
 Art thou offended ? dost thou wish I had 
 Put forth my matter in another dress ? 
 
 Or, that I had in things been more express ? 
 
 Three things let me propound, then I submit 
 To those that are my betters (as is fit):— 
 
 1. I find not that I am denied the use 
 Of this, my method, so I no abuse 
 Put on the words, things, readers, or be rude 
 In handling figure or similitude, 
 
 In application; but, all that I may, 
 
 Seek the advance of truth, this or that way. 
 
 Denied, did I say ? Nay, I have leave 
 (Example, too, and that from them that have 
 
 1 * Inklingintimation, slight knowledge.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 The first and second editions of the Pilgrim’s Progress 
 had no cuts, not even the sleeping portrait.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 ‘ Brave;’ showy, ostentatious.—(E d.) 
 
 4 What though [it he dark]?—(E d.) 
 
 5 * That same book’ made a prison a far happier place than 
 a palace without it. Wondrous bookl happy is that soul 
 which is enlightened to * behold wondrous things out of God’s 
 law.’ Ps. cxix. 18.— (Ed.) 
 
THE AUTHOR’S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. 
 
 87 
 
 God better pleased by their words or ways 
 Than any man that breatheth now-a-days) 
 
 Thus to express my mind, thus to declare 
 Tilings unto thee that excellentest are. 
 
 2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write 
 Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight 
 For writing so; indeed, if they abuse 
 
 Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use 
 To that intent; but yet let truth be free 
 To make her sallies upon thee and me, 
 
 Which way it pleases God. For who knows how, 
 Better than he that taught us first to plough, 
 
 To guide our mind and pens for his design F 
 And he makes base things usher in divine. 
 
 3. I find that Holy Writ, in many places, 
 
 Hath semblance with this method, where the cases 
 Do call for one thing to set forth another; 
 
 Use it I may, then, and yet nothing smother 
 Truth’s golden beams; nay, by this method may 
 Make it cast forth its rays, as light as day. 
 
 And now, before I do put up my pen, 
 
 I’ll show the profit of my book, and then 
 Commit both thee and it unto that hand 
 That pulls the strong down and makes weak ones 
 stand. 
 
 This book, it chalketh out before thine eyes 
 The man that seeks the everlasting prize; 
 
 It shows you whence he comes, whither he goes, 
 What he leaves undone; also, what he does; 
 
 It also shows you how he runs and runs, 
 
 ’Till he unto the gate of glory comes. 
 
 It shows, too, who set out for life amain, 
 
 As if the lasting crown they would 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. 1 
 
 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. 
 
 Would’st thou divert thyself from melancholy ? 
 Would’st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? 
 Would’st thou read riddles, and their explanation ? 
 Or else be drowned in thy contemplation ? 
 
 Dost thou love picking meat ? or would’st thou see 
 A man i’ tk’ clouds, and hear him speak to thee ? 
 Would’st thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep ? 
 Or, would’st thou in a moment laugh and weep ? 
 Would’st thou lose thyself and catch no harm? 
 
 And find thyself again without a charm ? 
 
 Would’st read thyself, and read thou know’st not 
 what, 
 
 And yet know whether thou art bless’d or not 
 By reading the same lines ? Oh then come hither, 
 And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. 
 
 John Bunyan. 
 
 1 Many there have been to whom by loss of sight, all thi3 
 world has been shut up in darkness, but who have richly 
 enjoyed a spiritual vision of God, of heaven, and of eternal 
 bliss.—(E d.) 
 
The following are the principal Works from which the Notes to this Edition of The Pilgrim 
 
 have been selected :— 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress, Part the First. 12mo, 177G. The 
 preface states, that 1 an edition, containing some brief notes .to 
 illustrate the more difficult passages, has been long desired. 
 An attempt of this land is now submitted to the public.’ This 
 appears to be the first edition with notes. There is no indi¬ 
 cation of who the notes are by; hut there can he little doubt 
 hut that they are from the pen of the Rev. J. Newton, the 
 friend of Cowper. The Editor has four editions of this inter¬ 
 esting volume—1776, 1782, 1789, and 1797. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress; both Parts, with Notes. By W. 
 Mason. 8vo, 1778. In the preface, Mr. Mason says, * 1 have 
 often wished to see some explanatory notes upon certain pas¬ 
 sages in it. Having been solicited to undertake this, at a 
 time when no one had attempted it, I have endeavoured, 
 according to the ability which God has given me, to execute 
 it.’ This book was published in numbers, and the notes 
 proved very acceptable. The subscribers requested that more 
 frequent and longer notes should be given. Mr. Mason pro¬ 
 mises to comply with this request. The advertisement is 
 dated ‘ Rotherhithe, March 8, 1776.’ 
 
 The Pilgrims Progress, with Notes. By A Bachelor of 
 Arts of Oxford—<T. B. 8vo. 1792. 
 
 The Pilgrim s Progress in blank verse. By J. S. Dodd, M.D. 
 Dublm, 1795. 
 
 The Pilgrims Progress, with a Key to the Allegory. Pub¬ 
 lished by Heptinstall, 1796. 
 
 The Pilgrims Progress, divided into Chapters. By the 
 Rev. G. Burder, of Coventry. 12mo, 1797. 
 
 A Key to the Pilgrim's Progress. By Andronicus. 12mo, 
 second edition, 1797. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress, with Notes. By the Rev. T. Scott. 
 8vo. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress versified, with short Notes. By 
 G. Burder, 1804. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress , with Life. By M'Nicoll and Dr 
 A. Clarke. 8vo, 1809. 
 
 Warr’s Course of Lectures, Illustrative of the Pilgrim's 
 Progress. 8vo, 1825. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress, with Historical and Practical Notes. 
 By the Rev. .T. Ivimey. 8vo. Oxford, 1824; London, 1829. 
 
 The Pilgrim's Progress, an Epic Poem. By C. C. V. G. 
 8vo. Parsonstown, 1844. 
 
 'Ihe Pilgrim's Progress, an Epic Poem, Two Parts. Pub¬ 
 lished by Bagster, 1845. 
 
 Dr. Cheever’s [exceedingly interesting] Lectures. 1846. 
 
 The extracts from Bunyan’s other works, which so admir¬ 
 ably illustrate his Pilgrim's Progress , have a reference to this 
 new edition. 
 
 BEDFORD JAIL AND GATEHOUSE. 
 
 Situated over the middle ot the river Ouse. In this damp den John Bunyati wrote the wondrous pbram. The View vra* taken hi 17*1. 
 The Gatehouse was pulled down in 17«6. The prison, in which the sleeping apartments are called l>y Mr. Howard two dungeons, 
 4 toi.d unitl that treat phiiantf.ropwt unveiled its gloomy wretchedness In 17 ©, scon after which it was pulled down. 
 
THE lIMAfiY 
 
 OF IfiE 
 
3X.AC.KrF, &.SOET. Gf.A-SGOW, RDI NBT1R.GTI & LONDON. 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS; 
 
 IN TI1E 
 
 SIMILITUDE OE A DREAM. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 As I walked through tlie wilderness of this world, 
 I lighted on a certain plaee, where 
 was a den; * 1 and I laid me down in 
 
 The Jail. 
 
 that place to sleep: and as I slept, I dreamed a 
 dream. I dreamed, and, behold, ‘ I saw a man 
 clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with 
 his face from his own house, a book in lii3 hand, 
 and a great burden upon his back, ’ is. bdv. 6. Lu. xiv. 
 33. Ps. xxxviii. 4. Hab. ii. 2. Ac. xvi. 31. I looked, and SHW 
 him open the book," and read therein; and as he 
 read, he wept and trembled; and not being able 
 longer to contain, he brake out with 
 His Outcry. & J amen t a bl e cry, saying, ‘ What 
 
 shall Ido?’ Ac. ii. 37.° 
 
 In this plight, therefore, lie went home, and re¬ 
 frained himself as long as he could, that his wiie 
 and children should not perceive his distress; but 
 he could not be silent long, because that his trouble 
 increased. Wherefore at length he brake his mind 
 to his wife and children; and thus he began to talk 
 to them: ‘0 my dear wife,’ said he, ‘and you, the 
 children of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in 
 myself undone, by reason of a burden that lieth 
 
 1 The jail. Mr. Bunyan wrote this precious book in Bed¬ 
 ford jail, where he was imprisoned twelve years for preaching 
 the gospel. Ilis bonds were those of the gospel; and, like 
 Peter, he could sleep soundly in prison. Blessed be God for 
 even the toleration and religious privileges we now' enjoy in 
 consequence of it. Our author, thus prevented from preaching, 
 turned his thoughts to writing; and, during his confinement, 
 composed * The Pilgrim’s Progress,’ and many other useful 
 works. Thus the Lord causes ‘ the wrath of man to praise 
 him.’ The servants of Christ, when restrained by wicked 
 laws from publishing the word of life from the pulpit, have 
 become more abundantly useful by their writings. (G. 
 Burder.) 
 
 a You will observe what honour, from his Pilgrim s first 
 setting out, Bunyan puts upon the Word of God. He would 
 give to no inferior instrumentality, not even to one of God s 
 providences, the business of awakening his Pilgrim to a sense 
 of his danger; but he places him before us reading his book, 
 awakened by the Word. And he makes the first efficacious 
 motive in the mind of this Pilgrim a salutary fear of the terrors 
 of that Word, a sense of the wi*ath to come, beneath the burden 
 of sin upon his soul.—(Cheever, Lect. vi.) '1 he alarms ot such 
 an awakened soul are very different from the terrors of super¬ 
 stitious ignorance, which, arising from fright or danger, are 
 easily quitted, with the silly mummeries of priestcraft.—(Andro- 
 nicus.) 
 
 3 ‘ What shall I do?’ This is his first exclamation, lie 
 has not as yet advanced so far as to say, What shall I do to be 
 saved ? —(Cheever, Lect. vi.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 hard upon me; moreover, I am for certain informed 
 that this our city will be burned with ^ 
 tire from heaven; in which fearlul 
 overthrow, both myself, with thee, my wife, and 
 you, my sweet babes, shall miserably come to ruin, 
 except (the which yet I see not) some 
 way of escape can be found, wneieuy of esca p e as ye t. 
 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 dis¬ 
 temper had got into his head; -1 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 knowhow he did; he told them, worse 
 and worse; he also set to talking to them again, 
 but they began to be hardened. They also thought 
 to drive away his distemper by harsh 
 
 , . . , 1 • Carnal physic foi 
 
 and surly carnages to turn. borne- a sick souL 
 times they would deride, sometimes 
 they would chide, and sometimes they would quito 
 neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire himself 
 to his chamber to pray for, and pity them, and also 
 to condole his own misery. He would also walk 
 solitarily in the fields, sometimes reading, and 
 sometimes praying; and thus for some days he 
 spent his time. 0 
 
 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 befoie, 
 crying, ‘ What shall I do to be saved?’ Ac. xvi. 30, 31. 
 
 I saw also that he looked this way and that way, 
 as if he would run; yet he stood still, because, as 
 
 4 Sometimes I have been so loaden with my sins, that I 
 
 I could not tell where to rest, nor what to do; yea, at such 
 | times, I thought it would have taken away my senses. (Luu- 
 
 yan’s Law and Grace.) 
 
 5 See the picture of a true penitent; a deep sense of danger, 
 and solemn concern for his immortal soul, and for his wile aud 
 children; clothed with rags ; his face turned from his house; 
 studying the Bible with intense interest; a great burden on 
 his back • praying; ‘ the remembrance of his sins is grievous, 
 and the burden of them is intolerable.’ Reader, have vou 
 felt this?—(Dr. l)odd.) 
 
 12 
 
90 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 I perceived, he could not tell which way to go. 1 I 
 looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist com¬ 
 ing to him, who asked, ‘Wherefore dost thou cry?’ 
 
 He answered, Sir, I perceive, by the hook in my 
 hand, that I am condemned to die, and after that 
 to come to judgment, He. is. 27 ; and I find that I 
 am not willing (job xvi. 21, 22) to do the first, nor able 
 (Eze. xxii. H) 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 hack will sink me lower than the grave; 
 and I shall fall into Tophet. is. xxx. 33. And, Sir, if 
 I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit, I am sure, 
 to go to judgment, and from thence to execution; 
 and clie thoughts of these things make me cry. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, If this he thy condition, 
 
 Conviction of the Stan ^® St tll0U Sti]I 1 an- 
 
 necessity of fly- swered, Because I know not whither 
 in rr . 
 
 to go. Then he gave him a parch¬ 
 ment roll, and there was written within, ‘ Fly from 
 the wrath to come. ’ Mat. m. 7. 
 
 The man therefore, read it, and looking upon 
 Evangelist very carefully, said, Whither must I 
 fly ? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his 
 finger over a very wide field, Do you see yonder 
 wicket gate ? Mat. vii. 13. The man said, No. Then 
 said the other, Do you see yonder shining light ? 
 Ps. cxix. 105. 2 Pe. i. 19 . He said, I think I do. Then 
 nx ., said Evangelist, Keep that light in 
 
 to him cannot your eye, and go up directly thereto, 
 thc'word?so shalt thou see the gate; at which, 
 when thou knockest, it shall he told 
 thee what thou shalt do. 2 So I saw in my dream 
 that the man began to run. Now, he had not ran 
 far from his own door, but his wife and children 
 perceiving it, began to cry after him to return, 
 Lu. xiv. 26 ; but the man put his fingers in his ears, 
 and ran on. crying, Life ! life ! Eternal life ! So 
 he looked not behind him, Ge xix. 17, but fled towards 
 the middle of the plain. 3 
 
 They that % from The neighbours also came out to 
 
 come, area gaz- see llim run > an(1 as he ran, some 
 ing-stock to the mocked, others threatened, and some 
 
 cried after him to return; and 
 
 1 Reader! be persuaded to pause a moment, and ask your¬ 
 self the question—What is my case ? Did I ever feel a deep 
 concern about my soul ? Did I ever see my danger as a sin¬ 
 ner ? Did I ever exclaim, in the agony of my spirit, c What 
 must I do to he saved ?’ Be assured that real godliness begins 
 in feeling the burden of sin.—(G. Burder.) 
 
 J The advice is to fly at once to Christ, and that he will then 
 be told what to do. He is not told to get rid of his burden first, 
 by reforming his life, and then to apply for further instruction 
 to the Saviour.—(J. B.) 
 
 3 When a sinner begins to fly from destruction, carnal 
 
 relations will strive to prevent him; but the sinner who is in 
 
 earnest for salvation, will be deaf to invitations to go back. 
 The more he is solicited by them, the faster he will fly from 
 them.—(Mason.) 
 
 among those that did so, there were two that were 
 resolved to fetch him back by force. 
 
 Je. xx. 10 . The name of the one was 01 ? s , tll I a ti e an 1 dpli * 
 
 „. able follow him. 
 
 0 bstmate, and the name of the other 
 Pliable. 4 Now by this time, the man was got a 
 good distance from them ; but, however, they were 
 resolved to pursue him; which they did, and in a 
 little time they overtook him. Then said the man, 
 Neighbours, wherefore are ye come ? They said, 
 To persuade you to go back with us. But he said. 
 That can by no means be. You dwell, said he, in 
 the City of Destruction, the place also where I was 
 born; I see it to be so; and dying there, sooner 
 or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a 
 place that burns with fire and brimstone. Be con¬ 
 tent, good neighbours, and go along with me. 
 
 What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and 
 our comforts behind us ? 5 
 
 Yes, said Christian, for that was his name, 
 because that all ‘ which you shall forsake, ’ 2 Co. iv. 
 is, is not worthy to be compared with a little of 
 that which I am seeking to enjoy; and if you will 
 go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare as I 
 myself, for there, where I go, is enough and to 
 spare. Lu. xv. 17 . Come away, and prove my words. 
 
 Obst. What are the things you seek, since you 
 leave all the world to find them ? 
 
 Cmt. I seek an ‘inheritance incorruptible, unde¬ 
 filed, and that fadeth not away, ’ 1 Pe. i. 4, and it is 
 laid up in heaven. He. xi. 16, and safe there, to be 
 bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that 
 diligently seek it. Head it so, if you will, in my 
 book. 
 
 Obst. Tush, said Obstinate, away with your 
 book; will you go back with us, or no ? 
 
 Chr. No, not I, saith the other; because I have 
 laid my hand to the plough. Lu. ix. 62 . 
 
 Obst. Come, then, neighbour Pliable, let us 
 turn again, and go home without him ; there is a 
 
 4 The names of these two neighbours are admirably charac¬ 
 teristic, not confined to any age or place, but always accompany 
 the young convert to godliness, as the shadow does the sub¬ 
 stance. Christian is firm, decided, bold, and sanguine. Obsti¬ 
 nate is profane, scornful, self-sufficient, and contemns God’s 
 'Word. Pliable is yielding, and easily induced to engage in 
 things of which he understands neither the nature nor the 
 consequences.—(T. Scott.) 
 
 0 Objection. If I would run as you would have me, then I 
 must run from all my friends, for none of them are running 
 that way. Answ. And if thou dost, thou wilt run into the 
 bosom of Christ, and of God. And what harm will that do 
 thee ? Objec. But if I run this way, I must run from all my 
 sins. Answ. That’s true indeed; yet if thou dost not, thou 
 wilt run into hell-fire. Objec. But I shall be mocked of all my 
 neighbours. Answ. But if thou lose the benefit of heaven, 
 God will mock at thy calamity. Objec. But, surely, I may 
 begin this, time enough a year or two hence. Answ. Hast thou 
 any lease of thy life ? Did ever God tell thee thou shalt live 
 half a year or two months longer ? Art thou a wise man to 
 let thy immortal soul hang over hell by a thread of uncertain 
 time, which may soon be cut asunder by death ?—(Bunyan’s 
 Preface to the Heavenly Footman.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 91 
 
 company of these crazed-lieaded coxcombs, that 
 when they take a fancy by the end, are wiser in 
 their own eyes than seven men that can render a 
 reason. i'r. xxvL ig. 
 
 Pli. Then said Pliable, Do not revile; if what 
 the good Christian says is true, the things he looks 
 after are better than ours ; my heart inclines to go 
 with my neighbour. 
 
 Obst. What! more fools still? Be ruled by me, 
 and go back; who knows whither such a brain-sick 
 fellow will lead you ? Go back, go back, and be 
 wise. 
 
 Ciir. Nay, but do thou come with thy neigh- 
 hour Pliable: there are such things 
 
 Christian and Ob- i n i ° 
 
 stiuate pull for to be had which I spoke of, and many 
 Pliable’s soul, -t • ■■ *-1 • n ii* 
 
 more glories besides; it you believe 
 not me, read here in this book, and for the truth 
 of what is expressed therein, behold, all is con¬ 
 firmed by the blood of him that made it. He. xiii. 20, 
 21 ; ix. 17 - 21 . 
 
 Pli. Well, neighbour Obstinate, saith Pliable, 
 
 .. . . . I begin to come to a point; I intend 
 
 to go with ciu-is- to go along with this good man, and 
 to cast in my lot with him. But, 
 my good companion, do you know the way to this 
 desired place ? 
 
 Ciir. I am directed by a man whose name is 
 Evangelist, to speed me to a little gate that is 
 before us, -where we shall receive instructions about 
 the way. 
 
 Pli. Come then, good neighbour, let us be going. 
 Then they went both together. 
 
 Obst. And I will go back to my place, said 
 
 Obstinate goes Obstinate; I will be no companion 
 
 railing back. 0 f suc i 1 misled fantastical fellows. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate 
 
 T'rk between was £ one back, Christian and Pliable 
 Christian and went talking over the plain ; and thus 
 they began their discourse. 
 
 Ciir. Come, neighbour Pliable, how do you do? 
 I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me; 
 had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have 
 felt, of the powers and terrors of what is yet 
 unseen, he would not thus lightly have given us 
 the back. 
 
 Pli. Come, neighbour 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. 
 
 Ciir. I can better conceive of them with my 
 God’s things un- mind, than speak of them with my 
 
 speakabie. tongue ; but yet since you are desir¬ 
 ous to know, I will read of them in my book. 
 
 Pli. And do you think that the words of your 
 book are certainly true ? 
 
 Ciir. Yes, verily, for it was made by him that 
 cannot lie. Tit, i. 2. 
 
 Pli. Well said. What things are they? 
 
 Ciir. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, 
 and everlasting life to be given us, that we may 
 inhabit that kingdom for ever. is. xiv. 17. Jn. x. 27 -■:<) 
 
 Pli. Well said. And what else ? 
 
 Chr. There are crowns of glory to be given us, 
 and garments that will make us shine like the sun 
 in the firmament of heaven! 2 Ti. iv. 8. Re. m. 4. Mat, 
 xiii. 43. 
 
 Pli. This is very pleasant. And what else ? 
 
 Ciir. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow; 
 for he that is owner of the place will wipe all tears 
 from OUr eyes. Is. xxv. 8. Re. vii. 16, 17; xxi. 4. 
 
 Pli. And what company shall we have there ? 
 
 Ciir. There we shall be with seraphims, and 
 cherubims, 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, burnt 
 in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for 
 the love that they bare to the Lord of the place; 
 all well, and clothed with immortality as with a 
 garment. 1 Is. vL 2. 1 Th. iv. 16, 17. Re. vii. 17 ; iv. 4; xiv. 1—5. 
 Jn. xii. 25. 2 Co. v. 2—5. 
 
 Pli. The hearing of this is enough to ravish 
 one’s heart; but are these things to be enjoyed? 
 How shall we get to be sharers thereof ? 
 
 Chr. The Lord, the governor of the country, 
 hath recorded, that in this book, the substance of 
 which is, if we be truly willing to have it, he will 
 bestow it upon us freely, is. lv. l, 2,12. Jn. vii. 37 ; vi. 37. 
 Re. xxi. 6 ; xxii. 17. 
 
 Pli. Well, my good companion, glad am I to 
 hear of these things; come on, let us mend our 
 pace . 2 
 
 1 It is interesting to compare this account of heaven with 
 that which Bunyan gave in the Preface to his * Sighs from 
 Hell,’ published twenty years before:—‘ O sinner, sinner, 
 there are better things than hell to be had, and at a cheaper 
 rate by the thousandth part than that. 0 there is no com¬ 
 parison ; there is heaven, there is God, there is Christ, there 
 is communion with an innumerable company of saints and 
 angels/— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Here you have another volume of meaning in a single 
 touch of the pencil. Pliable is one of those who are willing, 
 or think they are willing, to have heaven, but without any 
 sense of sin, or of the labour and self-denial necessary to enter 
 heaven. But now his heart is momentarily tired with Chris¬ 
 tian’s ravishing descriptions, and as he seems to have nothing 
 to trouble his conscience, and no difficulties to overcome, the 
 pace of an honest, thorough inquirer, the movement of a soul 
 sensible of its distresses and its sins, and desiring comfort only 
 in the way of healing and of holiness, seems much too slow 
 for him. He is for entering heaven at once, going much 
 faster than poor Christian can keep up with him. Then, said 
 Christian, I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of thU- 
 burden that is on my back.—(Cheever.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 92 
 
 Ciir. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason 
 of this burden that is on my back. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that, just as they had 
 The siongli of ended this talk, they drew near to a 
 
 Despond. yer y m j r y s l 0 ugh that was in the midst 
 of the plain; and they, being heedless, did both 
 fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the 
 slough was Despond. 1 Here, therefore, they wal¬ 
 lowed 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 ! neighbour Chris¬ 
 tian, where are you now ? 
 
 Ciir. Truly, said Christian, I do not know. 
 
 Pli. At that Pliable began to be offended, and 
 angrily said to his fellow, Is this the happiness 
 you have told me all this while of ? If we have 
 such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we 
 
 It is not enough expect betwixt this and our journey’s 
 to he pliable. en( l ? May I get out again with my 
 
 life, you shall possess the brave country alone for 
 me. And with that he gave a desperate struggle 
 or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the 
 slough which was next to his own house: so away 
 he went, and Christian saw him no more. 
 
 Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the 
 
 Christian, in Slough of Despond alone; but still he 
 
 trouble, seeks endeavoured to struggle to that side 
 
 ther from his of the slough that was still further 
 own house. r . . 
 
 from his own house, and next to the 
 wicket-gate; the which he did, but could not get 
 out, because of the burden that was upon his back. 2 
 J>ut I beheld in my dream, that a man came to 
 him, whose name was Help, and asked him what lie 
 did there ? 
 
 Ciir. Sir, said Christian, I was bid go this way 
 by a man called Evangelist, who directed me also 
 to yonder gate, that I might escape the wrath to 
 come. And as I was going thither, I fell in here. 
 
 . Help. But why did not you look 
 
 The promises. 0 , 0 J J 
 
 tor the steps ? 
 
 Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the 
 next way, and fell in. 3 
 
 1 Satan casts the professor into the mire, to the reproach 
 of religion, the shame of their brethren, the derision of the 
 world, and the dishonour of God. He holds our hands 
 while the world buffets us. He puts bears’ shins upon us, 
 and then sets the dogs at us. He bedaubeth us with his 
 own foam, and then tempts us to believe that that bedaubing 
 comes from ourselves.— (Good News to the Vilest of Men , 
 vol. 1 . p. 69.) 
 
 2 Guilt is not so much a wand and a tempest, as a load and 
 burden. The devil, and sin, and the curse of the law, and 
 death, are gotten upon the shoulders of this poor man, and are 
 treading of him down, that he may sink into, and be swallowed 
 up of, his miry place. Job xli. 30.—(Bunyan’s Saints' Know¬ 
 ledge of Christ's Love, vol. ii. p. 6.) 
 
 a In this Slough of Despond there were good and firm steps, 
 sound promises to stand upon, a causeway, indeed, better than 
 adamant, clear across the treacherous quagmires; but mark 
 you, fear followed Christian so hard, that he fled the nearest 
 
 Help. Then said he, Give me thy hand; so he 
 gave him his hand, and he drew him out, and set 
 him upon sound ground, and bid him Help Hfts ]lim 
 go on his way. Ps. xl. 2. ou t- 
 
 Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and 
 said, Sir, wherefore (since over this place is the way 
 from the City of Destruction, to yonder gate} is it 
 that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers 
 might go thither with more security ? And he said 
 unto me, This miry slough is such a place as cannot 
 be mended. It is the descent whither „„ , . .. 
 
 YVilflL TTlfl kCS TiIP 
 
 the scum and filth that attends con- Slough of Dea- 
 viction for sin, doth continually run, pon 
 and therefore it is called the Slough of Despond; 
 for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost 
 condition, there arisetli 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, is. xxxv. 3, 4; his labourers, 
 also, have, by the directions of his Majesty’s sur¬ 
 veyors, been, for above these sixteen hundred 
 years, employed about this patch of ground, if, 
 perhaps, it might have been mended; yea, and to 
 my knowledge, said he, here have been swallowed 
 up at least twenty thousand cart-loads; yea, mil¬ 
 lions of wholesome instructions, that have, at all 
 seasons, been brought from all places of the King’s 
 dominions, and they that can tell, say, they are the 
 best materials to make good ground of the place, 
 if so be it might have been mended; but it is the 
 Slough of Despond still; and so will be when they 
 have done what they can. 4 
 
 True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, 
 
 certain good and substantial steps, T]ie promises o{ 
 
 placed even through the very midst forgiveness and 
 » n ■ t ® , ... acceptance to 
 
 ot this slougll; but at such time as life by faith in 
 
 this place doth much spew out its Chnst ‘ 
 
 filth, as it doth against change of weather, these 
 
 steps are hardly seen ; or if they be, men, through 
 
 the dizziness of their heads, step 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. 5 6 l Sa. xii. 23. 
 
 way, and fell in, not stopping to look for the steps, or not 
 thinking of them. Now this is often just the operation of 
 fear; it sets the threatenings against the promises, when it 
 
 ought simply to direct the soul from the threatenings to the 
 promises. It is the object of the threatenings to make the 
 
 promises shine, and to make the soul lay hold upon them, and 
 that is the purpose and the tendency of a salutary fear of the 
 Divine wrath on account of sin, to make the believer flee 
 directly to the promises, and advance on them to Christ.— 
 (Cheever.) 
 
 4 Signifying that there is nothing hut despondency and 
 despair in the fallen nature of sinful man: the best that we 
 can do, leaves us in the Slough of Despond, as to any hope in 
 
 ourselves.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 That is, the Lord Jesus Christ. We never find good 
 ground, nor safe sounding, nor comfortable walking, till we 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 03 
 
 How I saw in my dream, that, by this time, 
 Pliable pot Pliable was got home to his house 
 JgStod oM.is again; so that his neighbours came 
 neighbours. p 0 v j s }(; him ; and some of them called 
 
 him wise man for coming back, and some called 
 him fool for hazarding himself with Christian; 
 TT . , . . others, again, did mock at his cow- 
 ment by them ardliness, saying, ‘ Surely, since you 
 at ids letum. |j e g an to venture, I would not have 
 
 been so base to have given out for a few difficul¬ 
 ties.’ 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 Chris¬ 
 tian behind his back. And thus much concerning 
 Pliable. 
 
 Now as Christian was walking solitarily by him¬ 
 self, * 1 lie espied one afar off come crossing over the 
 field to meet him; and their hap was to meet just 
 as they were crossing the way of each other. The 
 
 gentleman’s name that met him was 
 Mr. Worldly- . i i. • 
 
 wisemanmeets Mr. vv orldly-wiseman ; he dwelt in 
 
 With Christum. the town 0 f (Q arna l Policy, a very great 
 
 town, and also hard by from whence Christian came. 
 This man, then, meeting with Christian, and having 
 some inkling 2 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-wiseraan, therefore, having 
 some guess of him, by beholding his laborious going, 
 by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, 
 be^’an thus to enter into some talk with Christian. 
 
 World. IIow now, good fellow, whither away 
 Talk betwixt after this burdened mannei ? 
 
 “S Chr. A burdened manner, indeed, 
 Christian. as ever, I think, poor creature had !• 
 And whereas you ask me, Whither away ? I tell 
 you, Sir, I am going to yonder wicket-gate before 
 me; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put 
 into a way to be rid of my heavy burden. 
 
 World. Hast thou a wife and children ? 
 
 Ciir. Yes; but I am so laden with this bur¬ 
 den, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as 
 formerly; methinks I am as if I had none. 1 Co. 
 vii. 29. 
 
 World. Wilt thou hearken unto me if I give 
 thee counsel ? 
 
 Ciir. If it be good, I will; for I stand in need 
 of good counsel. 
 
 enter into possession of Christ by faith, and till our feet are 
 set upon Christ, who is the Rock of ages.—(Mason.) 
 
 1 Aud now you may think, perhaps, that Christian having 
 got out of the Slough of Despond, and fairly on his way, it is 
 all well with him; but not so, for now he comes into a peril 
 that is far greater than the last—a peril through which we sup¬ 
 pose that every soul that ever goes on pilgrimage passes, and 
 a peril in which multitudes that get safely across the Slough 
 of Despond, perish for ever.—(Cheever.) 
 
 2 * Some inkling \ some intimation, hint, or slight know¬ 
 ledge : obsolete.—(E d.) 
 
 World. I would advise thee, then, that thou 
 with airspeed get thyself rid of thy Mr. Worldly, 
 burden; for thou wilt never he settled counsel' 1 'to 
 in thy mind till then ; nor canst thou Christian, 
 enjoy the benefits of the blessing which God hath 
 bestow r ed upon thee till then. 
 
 Ciir. That is that which I seek for, even to be 
 rid of this heavy burden; but get it off myself, I 
 cannot; nor is there any man in our country that 
 can take it off my shoulders ; therefore am 1 going 
 this way, as I told you, that I may be rid of my 
 burden. 
 
 World. Who bid you go this way to be rid of 
 thy burden ? 
 
 Ciir. A man that appeared to me to be a very 
 great and honourable person; his name, as I 
 remember, is Evangelist. 
 
 World. I beshrew him for his counsel! there 
 is not a more dangerous"and trouble- Mr. Woridly- 
 some way in the world than is that demmA Evan- 
 unto which he hath directed thee; gehst’scounsel 
 
 and that thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by 
 his counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I 
 perceive already ; for I see the dirt of the Slough 
 of Despond is upon thee; but that slough is the 
 beefinninc: of the sorrows that do attend those that 
 go on in that way. Hear me, I am older than 
 thou; thou art like to meet with, on the way which 
 thou goest, wearisomeness, painfulness, hunger, 
 perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, darkness, 
 and, in a word, death, and w T hat 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 
 more terrible to me than are all these Tie frame ^of 
 things which you have mentioned; young Chris- 
 nay, methinks I care not what I meet tian " 
 with in the way, if so be I can also meet with 
 deliverance from my burden. 
 
 World. How earnest thou by the burden at first? 
 
 Ciir. By reading this book in my hand. 
 
 World. I thought so; and it is happened unto 
 thee as to other weak men, who, med¬ 
 dling with things too high for them, 
 do suddenly fall into thy distractions; 
 which distractions do not only unman 
 men, as thine, I perceive, has done 
 thee, but they run them upon desperate ventures, 
 to obtain they know not what. 
 
 Ciir. I know what I would obtain; it is ease 
 
 for my heavy burden. 
 
 World. But why wilt thou seek for case this 
 
 way, seeing so many dangers attend Wietlier Mr 
 
 it ? especially since, hadst thou but Worid^w^- 
 
 patiencc to hear me, I could direct moralitybefore 
 1 - - - the strait gat e. 
 
 Worldly - wise¬ 
 man does not 
 like that men 
 should be seri¬ 
 ous in reading 
 the Bible. 
 
 tliee to the obtaining of what thou 
 
 
94 
 
 TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 desirest, without the dangers that thou in this way 
 wilt run thyself into; yea, and the remedy is at 
 hand. Besides, I will add, that, instead of those 
 dangers, thou slialt meet with much safety, 
 friendship, and content. 1 
 
 Ciir. 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 shoul¬ 
 ders : yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great 
 deal of good this way; aye, and besides, he hath 
 skill to cure those that are somewhat crazed in 
 their wits with their burdens. 2 To him, as I said, 
 thou mayest go, and he helped presently. Plis 
 house is not quite a mile from this place, and if he 
 should not he 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 gentle¬ 
 man himself; there, I say, thou mayest be eased 
 of thy burden ; and if thou art not minded to go 
 hack to thy former habitation, as, indeed, I would 
 not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and 
 children to thee to this village, where there are 
 houses now stand empty, one of which thou mayest 
 have at reasonable rates; provision is there also 
 cheap and good; and that which will make thy 
 life the more happy is, to be sure, there thou shalt 
 live by honest neighbours, in credit and good 
 fashion. 
 
 Now was Christian somewhat at a stand; but 
 
 concluded, if this be true, 
 gentleman hath said, my 
 words. wisest course is to take his advice; 
 
 and with that he thus further spoke. 
 
 Chr. Sir, which is my way to this honest man’s 
 house ? 
 
 Christian snared presently he 
 by Mr. World- i • i .?• 
 lv-wiseman’s which this 
 
 Mount Sinai. 
 
 World. Do you see yonder 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, 
 
 1 There is great beauty in this dialogue, arising from the 
 exact regard to character preserved throughout. Indeed, this 
 forms one of our author’s peculiar excellencies; as it is a very 
 difiicult attainment, and always manifests a superiority of 
 genius.—(Scott.) 
 
 2 Mr. Worldly-wiseman prefers morality to Christ the strait 
 gate. This is the exact reasoning of the flesh. Carnal reason 
 ever opposes spiritual truth. The notion of justification by 
 our own obedience to God’s law ever works in us, contrary 
 to the way of justification hv the obedience of Christ. Self- 
 righteousness is as contrary to the faith of Christ as indulging 
 the lusts of the flesh. The former is the white devil of 
 pride, the latter the black devil of rebellion and disobedience. 
 See the awful consequences of listening to the reasonings of 
 the flesh.—(Mason.) 
 
 and also that side of it that was next the wayside, 
 
 did hang so much over, that Chris- Christian afraid 
 . • n • i . , /> , i that Mount 
 
 tian was airaid to venture further, sinaiwouidfail 
 
 lest the hill should fall on his head; on 1118 head - 
 
 wherefore there he stood still, and wotted 0 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. Ex. xix 
 
 16 , is. Here, therefore, he sweat and did quake for 
 
 fear. He. xii. 21 . And now he began to be sorry that 
 
 he had taken Mr. Worldly-wiseman’s counsel. 
 
 And with that he saw Evangelist 
 
 coming to meet him; at the sight also e th Christian 
 
 of whom he began to blush for shame. sinaUnMook- 
 
 So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer; etl1 n s ^M r ely 
 
 and coming up to him, he looked upon 
 
 him with a severe and dreadful countenance, and 
 
 thus began to reason with Christian. 
 
 Evan. What dost thou here, Christian ? said 
 he: at which words Christian knew Evangelistvea . 
 not what to answer; wherefore at sons afresh 
 
 . . . with Christian. 
 
 present he stood speechless before 
 him. Then said Evangelist further, Art not thou 
 the man that I found crying without the walls of 
 the City of Destruction ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man. 
 
 Evan. Did not I direct thee the way to the 
 little wicket-gate ? 
 
 Ciir. 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. 
 
 Ciir. I met Avith a gentleman so soon as I had 
 got over the Slough of Despond, avIio persuaded 
 me that I might, in the village before me, find a 
 man that could take off my burden. 
 
 Evan. What was he ? 
 
 Ciir. He looked like a gentleman , 3 4 and talked 
 much to me, and got me at last to yield ; so I came 
 hither: but Avhen I beheld this hill, and how it 
 hangs over the Avay, I suddenly made a stand, lest 
 it should fall on my head. 
 
 Evan. What said that gentleman to you ? 
 
 Ciir. Why, he asked me whither I Avas going ? 
 And I told him. 
 
 Evan. And Avhat said he then ? 
 
 Ciir. He asked me if I had a family ? And I 
 told him. But, said I, I am so loaden Avith the 
 burden that is on my back, that I cannot take 
 pleasure in them as formerly. 
 
 3 ‘And wotted;’ and knew. From the Saxon witen, to 
 know; see Imperial Dictionary. —(Ed.) 
 
 4 Beware of taking men by their looks. They may look as 
 gentle as lambs, while the poison of asps is under their tongue; 
 whereby they infect many souls with pernicious errors and 
 pestilent heresies, turning them from Christ and the hope of 
 full justification and eternal life through him only, to look to, 
 and rely upon, their own works, in whole, or in part, for sal¬ 
 vation.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 95 
 
 Evan. Ami what said lie then ? 
 
 Ciir. He bid me with speed get rid of my bur¬ 
 den ; and I told him it was ease tliat I sought. 
 And, said I, I am therefore going to yonder gate, 
 to receive further direction how I may get to the 
 place of deliverance. So he said that he would 
 show me a better way, and short, not so attended 
 with difficulties as the way, Sir, that you set me 
 in; which way, said he, will direct you to a gen¬ 
 tleman’s house that hath skill to take off these 
 burdens : so I believed him, 1 and turned out of 
 that vay 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 knoiv not what to do. 
 
 Evan. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little, 
 that I may show thee the words of God. So he 
 stood trembling. Then said Evangelist, ‘ See that 
 ye refuse not him that speaketh. Eor if they 
 escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, 
 much more shall not we escape , if we turn away 
 Iroin him that speaketh from heaven.’ He. xii. 25. 
 He said, moreover, ‘Now the just shall live by 
 faith: but if any man draw back, my soul shall 
 Evangelist con- have no pleasure in him.’ He. x. ss. He 
 tian of Ms a ^ so did thus apply them: Thou art 
 enor - the man that art running into this 
 
 misery; thou hast begun to reject the counsel of 
 the Most High, and to draw back thy foot from 
 
 the way of peace, even almost to the hazarding of 
 thy perdition. 
 
 Then Christian fell down at his foot as dead, 
 crying, ‘ W oe is me, for I am undone !’ At the 
 sight of which, Evangelist caught him by the 
 right hand, saying, ‘All manner of sin and blas¬ 
 phemies shall be forgiven unto men,’ Mat. xii. 31. 
 Mar. iii. 28; ‘ Be not faithless, but believing.’ j n . xx. 27. 
 Then did Christian again a little revive, and stood 
 up trembling, as at first, before Evangelist. 2 
 
 I hen Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more 
 earnest heed to the things that I shall tell thee of. 
 
 1 wil1 now show thee who it was that 
 scribed by deluded thee, and who it was also to 
 whom he sent thee.—The man that 
 met thee is one Worldly-wiseman, and rightly is 
 he so called; partly, because he savoureth only 
 the doctrine of this world, 1 Jn. iv. 5 (therefore he 
 always goes to the town of Morality to church); 
 
 Of H,tnn l n-f belief i 0f f? e truth lies at the fountain of the hope 
 
 SO the belief 6 ’ ^ 1 | S lbe cause ot an y one becoming a pilgrim; 
 
 wav 1 • i° 1 3 j 1C 18 Causc °f any one’s turning out of 
 Urn *ay which leads to glory.- (Mason.) 
 
 love JVv 6 ^ l0 ' ^ ^ S os P e l grace to sinners. See the amazing 
 which f ° r Sinuers - 0 rem ember the price! 
 
 inosfnrr r iCd i 16 ° f 0Ur sius > at nothiu S less than his 
 
 in hi. 1 ^ b °? d *. Believe his wonderful love. Rejoice 
 
 hatml of 8alVat \ 0n - Uye in the love of him, in the 
 (Mason / ^ aud m hmnbleness of mind before him.’— 
 
 an d partly because he loveth that doctrine best, 
 for it saveth him best from the cross, Ga. vi. 12. And 
 because he is of this carnal temper, therefore ho 
 seeketh to prevent my ways, though 
 right. Now there are three things in coyerfthe del 
 this man’s counsel, that thou must 
 utterly abhor. man. 
 
 1. Ilis turning thee out of the way. 2. His 
 labouring to render the cross odious to thee. And, 
 3. Ilis setting thy feet in that way that leadeth 
 unto the administration of death. 
 
 hirst, 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,’ 
 Lu. xiii. 24 , the gate to which I send thee ; for * strait 
 is the gate which leadeth unto life, and few there 
 be that find it. ’Mat. vii. 14. From this little wicket- 
 gate, and from the way thereto, hath this wicked 
 man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost 
 to destruction; hate, therefore, his turning thee 
 
 out of the way, and abhor thyself for hearkening 
 to him. 0 
 
 Secondly, Thou must abhor his labouring’ to 
 render the cross odious unto thee; for thou art to 
 prefer it ‘before the treasures in Egypt.’ He. xi. 
 25, 26. Besides, the King of glory hath told thee, 
 that he that ‘ will save his life shall lose it. ’ Mar! 
 
 ' in* 25. Mat. x. 39. And, ‘He that comes after 
 
 him, and hate not his father, and mother, and wife, 
 and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and 
 his own life also, he cannot be my disciple. ’ Lu. xiv. 26. 
 
 I say, therefore, for man to labour to persuade 
 thee, that that shall be thy death, without which, 
 the truth hath said, thou canst not have eternal 
 life; this doctrine thou must abhor. 
 
 Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet 
 in the way that leadeth to the ministration of 
 death. And for this thou must consider to whom 
 he sent thee, and also how unable that person was 
 to deliver thee from thy burden. 
 
 He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by 
 name Legality, is the son of the bond woman which 
 now is, and is in bondage with her children, Gal. iv. 
 2i~27; and is, in a mystery, this mount TheBond- 
 Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall woman, 
 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 
 ot the law; for by the deeds of the law no man 
 living can be rid of his burden: therefore, Mr. 
 Worldly-wiseman is an alien, and Mr. Legality is 
 a cheat; and for his son Civility, notwithstanding 
 his simpering looks, he is but a hypocrite, and 
 
06 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 cannot help thee. Believe me, there is nothing 
 in all this noise, that thou hast heard of these 
 sottish men, hut a design to beguile tliee of thy 
 salvation, by turning thee from the way in which 
 I had set thee. After this, Evangelist called aloud 
 to the heavens for confirmation of what lie had 
 said: and with that there came words and fire out 
 of the mountain under which poor Christian stood, 
 that made the hair of his flesh stand up. .The 
 words were thus pronounced: ‘ As many as are of 
 the works of the law are under the curse ; for it is 
 written, Cursed is every one that continueth not 
 in all things which are written in the hook of the 
 
 law to do them. 1 Gal. m. 10. 
 
 Now Christian looked for nothing hut death, 
 and began to cry out lamentably; even cursing 
 the time in which he met with Mr. Worldly-wise- 
 man ; still calling himself a thousand fools foi 
 hearkening to his counsel; he also was gieatly 
 ashamed to think that this gentleman s arguments, 
 flowing only from the flesh, should have the pre¬ 
 valency with him as to cause him to forsake the 
 right way. This done, he applied himself again 
 to Evangelist, in words and sense as follows:— 
 Chr. Sir, what think you ? Is there hope ? 
 Christian in- May I now go back, and go up to the 
 quires if he picket-gate ? Shall I not be aban- 
 happy. doned for this, and sent back irom 
 
 thence ashamed ? I am sorry I have hearkened 
 to this man’s counsel. But may my sin be 
 
 forgiven ? 
 
 Evan. Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is 
 very great, for by it thou hast committed two evils ; 
 thou hast forsaken the way that is good, to tread 
 „ v , „ nTn in forbidden paths ; yet will the man 
 forts lnm. a t fifoe gate receive thee, lor lie lias 
 good-will for men ; only, said he, take heed that 
 thou turn not aside again, ‘ lest thou perish fiom 
 the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little. 
 Ps . ii. 12. Then did Christian address himself to go 
 back; and Evangelist, after he had kissed him, 
 gave him one smile, and bid him God-speed. So 
 he went on with haste, neither spake he to any 
 man by the way; nor, if any asked him, would he 
 vouchsafe them an answer. He went like one 
 that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, 
 and could by no means think himself safe, till again 
 he was got into the way which he left, to follow 
 Mr. Worldly-wiseman’s counsel. So, in process 
 of time, Christian got up to the gate. Now, over 
 the o-ate there was written, ‘ Knock, and it shall 
 be opened unto you. Mat. vii. s. 
 
 He knocked, therefore, more than once or twice, 
 saying— 
 
 * May I now enter here ? Mill he within 
 Open to sorry me, though I have been 
 An undeserving rebel ? Then shall I 
 Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high.’ 
 
 At last there came a grave person to the gate, 
 named Good-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 The gate win 
 
 ... . J-l 4- 1 ~ be °P ene(l t0 
 
 my heart, said he; and with that he brokenhearted 
 opened the gate. 
 
 So when Christian was stepping in, the other 
 gave him a pull. Then said. Christian, What 
 means that ? The other told him. A little dis¬ 
 tance from this gate, there is erected a strong 
 castle, of which Beelzebub is the Satan emies^ 
 captain; from thence, both he and ter the strait 
 them that are with him shoot arrows e ate - 
 at those that come up to this gate, if haply they 
 may die before they can enter in. 
 
 Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So 
 when he was got in, the man of the Christian e en-^ 
 gate asked him who directed him witll joy and 
 
 f, • , o trembling. 
 
 thither ( 
 
 Ciir. Evangelist bid me come hitner, and knock 
 
 i Legality is as great an enemy to the cross of Christ as 
 licentiousness; for it keeps the soul from coining to, believing 
 
 -in -nnWlrm arwl 
 
 Jllv.lltiUUauv/00 j mi xv nvvpu p 
 
 in, and trusting wholly to the blood of Christ for pardon, and 
 the righteousness of Christ for justification 1 so that it keeps 
 the soul in bondage, and swells the mind with pride, while 
 licentiousness brings a scandal on the cross. (Mason.) 
 
 2 The straituess of this gate is not to be understood car¬ 
 nally, but mystically. This gate is wide enough for all the 
 truly sincere lovers of fesus Christ, but so strait that it wall 
 keep all others out. The gate of Eden was wide enough tor 
 Adam and his wife to go out at, yet it was too strait lor them 
 to go in at. Mliy? They had sinned; and the cherubim 
 and the flaming sw r ord made it too strait for them. The ga e3 
 of the temple were six cubits wide, yet they were so strait 
 that none who were unclean might enter them. (Runyans 
 
 Strait Gate, vol. i. p. 367.) . . , , ' 
 
 3 Here behold the love of Jesus, in freely and heartily 
 
 receiving every poor sinner who comes unto him ; no matter 
 how vile they have been, nor what sins they have committed, 
 he loves them freely and receives them graciously; tor e 
 has nothing but good-will to them. Hence, tlie_ heavenly 
 host sang at his birth, * Good-wid towards men. Lu. n. 14. 
 
 4 As sinners become more decided iu applying to Christ, 
 and assiduous in the means of grace, Satan, if permitted, will 
 be more vehement in his endeavours to discourage them, 
 that, if possible, he may induce them to desist, and so come 
 short of the prize.—(Scott.) A whole heaven and eternal hie 
 is wrapped up in this little word in— £ Strive to enter in ; 
 this calls for the mind and heart. Many prolessors make 
 their striving to stand rather in an outcry of words, than m 
 a hearty labour against the lusts and love of the world. Rut 
 this kind of striving is but a beating the air, and will come 
 to nothing at last.—(Bunyan’s Strait Gate, vol. l. p. 366.) 
 Coming souls will have opposition from Satan, lie casts i 
 fiery darts at them; wanderings in prayer, enticements to o n 
 sins, and even blasphemous thoughts, assail the trem g 
 penitent, when striving to enter into the strait gate, o n 
 
 i him from * the way and the life.’—(E d.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 97 
 
 (as 1 did); and he said that you, Sir, would tell 
 me what I must do. 
 
 Good-will. An open door is set before thee, and 
 
 Talk between no man can shut it. 
 
 Good -wiij and Ciir. Now I bemn to reap the 
 
 Christian. , , r 
 
 benefits of my hazards. 
 
 Good-will. But how is it that you came alone ? 
 
 Ciir. Because none of my neighbours saw their 
 danger, as I saw mine. 
 
 Good-will. Did any of them know of your 
 coming ? 
 
 Chr. Yes ; mv wife and children saw me at the 
 first, and called after me to turn again ; also, some 
 of my neighbours stood crying and calling after me 
 to return; but I put my fingers in my ears, and 
 so came on my way. 
 
 Good-will. But did none of them follow you, to 
 persuade you to go back ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but 
 when they saw that they could not prevail, Ob¬ 
 stinate went railing back, but Pliable came with 
 me a little way. 
 
 Good-will. But why did he not come through ? 
 
 Ciir. We, indeed, came both together, until we 
 came at the Slough of Despond, into the which we 
 also suddenly fell. And then was my 
 
 A man may have ... f... . . .. , \ 
 
 company when neighbour, Pliable, discouraged, and 
 
 heaven,° U and° r wou ^ not adventure further. Where- 
 
 aiouf 0 thUiicr f° re > getting out again on that side 
 
 next to his own house, he told me I 
 
 should possess the brave country alone for him; 
 
 so he went his way, and I came mine—he after 
 
 Obstinate, and I to this gate. 
 
 Good-will. Then said Good-will, Alas, poor 
 man! is the celestial glory of so small esteem with 
 him, that he counteth it not worth running the 
 hazards of a few difficulties to obtain it ? 
 
 Chr. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth 
 of Pliable, and if I should also say all the truth of 
 Christianaccus- myself, it will appear there is no 
 fotVthemanat betterment 1 betwixt him and myself, 
 the gate. It is true, he went back to his own 
 house, but 1 also turned aside to go in the way of 
 death, being persuaded thereto by the carnal argu¬ 
 ments" of one Mr. Worldly-wiseman. 
 
 Good-will. Oh! did he light upon you ? What 1 
 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 ? 
 
 CnR. Yes, as far as I durst; I went to find out 
 Mr. Legality, until I thought that the mountain 
 
 r-i • betterment’ is an admirable expression of the 
 Christian s humility—he set out in company, but reached the 
 gate alone; still it is not unto me, but unto thy name be all 
 the glory.—(E d.) 
 
 Carnal arguments' is altered to ‘ carnal agreement,’ in 
 
 several of Mr. Runyan’s editions; see third to the ninth.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 that stands by his house would have fallen upon 
 my head; wherefore, there I was forced to stop. 
 
 Good-will. That mountain has been the death 
 of many, and will be the death of many more ; it 
 is well you escaped being by it dashed in pieces. 
 
 Chr. Why, truly, I do not know what had 
 become of me there, had not Evangelist happily 
 met me again, as I was musing in the midst of my 
 dumps; but it was God’s mercy that he came to 
 me again, for else I had never come hither. But 
 now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit, in¬ 
 deed, for death, by that mountain, than thus to 
 stand talking with my Lord; but, 0 ! 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 
 they come hither. They are ‘ in no Christian com- 
 wise cast out, ’ Jn. vi. 37; and therefore, forLed a s ain * 
 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 nar- „ . .. 
 
 row way { That is the way thou ed yet on ids 
 must go; it was cast up by the patri- way ’ 
 archs, prophets, Christ, and his apostles; and it 
 is as straight as a rule can make it. This is the 
 way thou must go. 3 
 
 Chr. But, said Christian, are there ™ . ,. , ., 
 
 . . _. , Christian afraid 
 
 no turnings nor windings, by which a of losing his 
 
 stranger may lose his way ? way * 
 
 Good-will. Yes, there are many ways butt down 
 upon this, and they are crooked and wide. But 
 thus thou mayest distinguish the right from the 
 wrong, the right only being straight and narrow. 
 
 Mat. viL 14. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked 
 him further if he could not help him Christian wear, 
 off with his burden that was upon his 01 uis burden - 
 back ; for as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor 
 could he by any mens get it off without help. 
 
 He told him, as to thy burden, be There is no deli- 
 content to bear it, until thou comest 
 to the place of deliverance ; for there 
 it will fall from thy back of itself. 
 
 Then Christian began to gird up 
 his loins, and to address himself to his journey. 
 So the other told him, That by that he was gone 
 some distance from the gate, he would come at 
 the house of the Interpreter; at whose door he 
 should knock, and he would show him excellent 
 
 verance from 
 the guilt and 
 burden of sin, 
 butbythedeatlx 
 and blood of 
 Christ. 
 
 3 Christian, when admitted at the strait gate, is directed in 
 the narrow way; not in the broad fashionable religion. In 
 the broad road, every man may choose a path suited to his 
 inclinations, shift about to avoid difficulties, or accommodate 
 himself to circumstances; and he may be sure of company 
 agreeable to his taste. But Christians must follow one another 
 in the narrow way on the same track, facing enemies, and 
 bearing hardships, without attempting to evade them; nor is 
 any indulgence given to different tastes, habits, or propensi¬ 
 ties.—(Scott.) 
 
 13 
 
98 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 tilings. Then Christian took his leave of his 
 friend, and he again hid him God-speed. 
 
 Then he went on till he came at the house of 
 Christian comes the Interpreter, 1 where he knocked 
 
 of the Inter- over an( * over *> at l ast one came to 
 
 prefer. the door, and asked who was there. 
 
 Ciir. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an 
 acquaintance of the good-man of this house to call 
 here for my profit; I would therefore speak with 
 the master of the house. So he called for the 
 master of the house, who, after a little time, came 
 to Christian, and asked him what he would have. 
 
 Chr. Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am 
 come from the City of Destruction, and am going 
 to the Mount Zion; and I was told by the man 
 that stands at the gate, at the head of this way, 
 that if I called here, you would show me excellent 
 He Is enter- things, such as would be a help to me 
 tamed. j n m y journey. 2 
 
 Inter. Then said the Interpreter, 'Come in; I 
 will show thee that which will he pro- 
 IUmnination. finable to thee. So he commanded his 
 
 man to light the candle., 3 and bid Christian follow 
 him: so lie had him into a private room, and bid 
 his man open a door ; the which when he had done, 
 
 Christian sees a Christian saw the picture of a very 
 grave picture, grave uerson hang up against the wall; 
 
 The fashion of and this was the fashion of it. It had 
 the picture. e y es lifted up to heaven, the best of 
 
 books in his hand, the law of truth was written 
 upon his lips, the world was behind his back. It 
 stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of 
 gold did hang over its head. 4 
 
 1 With great propriety Bunyan places the house of the In¬ 
 terpreter beyond the strait gate ; for the knowledge of Divine 
 things, that precedes conversion to God by faith in Christ, is 
 very scanty, compared with the diligent Christian’s subsequent 
 attainments.—(Scott.) 
 
 2 It would be difficult to find twelve consecutive pages in 
 the English language, that contain such volumes of meaning, 
 in such beautiful and instructive lessons, with such heavenly 
 imagery, in so pure and sweet a style, and with so thrilling an 
 appeal to the best affections of the heart, as these pages de¬ 
 scriptive of Christian’s sojourning in the house of the Inter¬ 
 preter. This good-man of the house, the Interpreter, we are, 
 without doubt, to take as the representative of the Holy Spirit, 
 with his enlightening and sanctifying influences on the heart. 
 —(Cheever.) The order in which these heavenly lessons are 
 taught, is worthy our admiration.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 As in creation, so in conversion, God’s command is, * Let 
 there be light;’ it comes by the Word; no Bible, no light. 
 God divided the light from the darkness ; a blessed mystery 
 to prove the Christian indeed—light in his mind at variance 
 with his native darkness.—(Bunyan, on Genesis.) 
 
 4 The first object presented by the Holy Spirit to the 
 mind of a young believer, is the choice of his minister; not to 
 be submissive to human orders, but to choose for himself. The 
 leading features are, that he be grave, devotional, a lover of his 
 Bible, one who rejects error and preaches the truth; uninflu¬ 
 enced by paltry pelf or worldly honours; 'pleading patiently to 
 win souls; seeking only his Master’s approbation; souls, ant 
 not money, for his hire; an immortal crown for his reward. 
 With the laws of men and friendship to mislead us, how essen¬ 
 tial is the guidance of the Holy Spirit in this important choice 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian, What meaneth this? 
 
 Inter. The man whose picture this is, is one of 
 a thousand; he can beget children, l Co. 3 v. 15, travail 
 in birth with children, Ga. iv. 19, and nurse them 
 limself 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 
 lis lips, it is to show thee, that his work is to know 
 and unfold dark things to sinners ; even as also thou 
 seest him stand as if he pleaded with men ; and 
 whereas thou seest the world as cast T]ie mea nmg of 
 behind him, and that a crown hangs the P lctlll ' e * 
 over his head, that is to show thee that slighting 
 and despising the things that are present, for the 
 love that he hath to his Master’s service, he is sure 
 in the world that comes next to have glory for his 
 reward. Now, said the Interpreter, I have showed 
 thee this picture first, because the man ^ he sllowed 
 whose picture this is, is the only man him the pic- 
 whom the Lord of the place whither ture fu ' st - 
 thou art going, hath authorized to be thy guide in 
 all difficult places thou mayest meet with in the 
 way; wherefore, take good heed to what I have 
 showed thee, and bear well in thy mind what thou 
 hast seen, lest in thy journey thou meet with some 
 that pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes 
 down to death. 
 
 Then he took him by the hand, and led him into 
 a very large parlour that was full of dust, because 
 never swept; the which, after he had reviewed a 
 little while, the Interpreter called for a man to 
 sweep. Now, when he began to sweep, the dust 
 began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian 
 had almost therewith been choked. Then said the 
 Interpreter to a damsel that stood by, Bring hither 
 the water, and sprinkle the room ; the 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 of a man that was never sanctified by 
 the sweet grace of the gospel; the dust is his 
 original sin and inward corruptions, that have 
 defiled the whole man. He that began to sweep at 
 first, is the Law; but she that brought water, and 
 did sprinkle it, is the Gospel. Now, whereas thou 
 sawest, that so soon as the first began to sweep, 
 the dust did so fly about that the room by him 
 could not be cleansed, but that thou wast almost 
 choked therewith; this is to show thee, that the 
 law, instead of cleansing the heart (by its working) 
 from sin, doth revive, put strength into, and increase 
 
 —(Ed.) And whose portrait is Bunyan describing here ? We 
 think he had only Mr. Gifford in his eye as a faithful minister 
 of Christ; but Bunyan too had been the pleader with men, 
 and over his own head the crown of gold was shining; and 
 while he wrote these words, you may he sure that hig spirit 
 thrilled within him as he said, And 1 too am a minister of 
 Jesus Christ.—(Cheever.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 99 
 
 it in the soul, even as it doth discover and forbid 
 it, for it doth not give power to subdue. 1 Ro. vii. 6. 
 
 1 Co. iv. 56. Ro. v. 20. 
 
 Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the 
 room with water, upon which it was cleansed with 
 pleasure; this is to show thee, that "when the gos¬ 
 pel comes in the sweet and precious influences 
 thereof to the heart, then, I say, even as thou 
 sawest the damsel lay the dust by sprinkling the 
 floor with water, so is sin vanquished and subdued, 
 and the soul made clean, through the faith of it, 
 and consequently fit for the King of glory to 
 
 inhabit. Jn. xv. 3. Ep.v. 2C. Ac. XV. 9. Ro. xvi. 25, 26. Jn. xv. 13. 
 
 I saw, moreover, in my dream, that the Inter¬ 
 ne showed him P reter to °k by the hand, and had 
 Patience aud 11111 ln ^° a little room, where sat two 
 
 little children, each one in his chair. 
 The name of the eldest was Passion, and the name 
 of the other Patience. Passion seemed to be much 
 discontented; but Patience was very quiet. Then 
 Christian asked, What is the reason of the discon- 
 Passion will tent of Passion? The Interpreter 
 Patfenceisfbr an swered, The Governor of them 
 waiting. would have him stay for his best 
 things till the beginning of the next year; but lie 
 will have all now; but patience is willing to wait. 
 
 Then 1 saw that one came to Passion, and 
 Passion lias his brought him a bag of treasure, and 
 desu ' e - poured it down at his feet, the which 
 he took up and rejoiced therein, and withal laughed 
 
 And quicldy Patien ce to scorn. But I beheld but 
 
 lavishes ail a while, and he had lavished all awav, 
 ciw ay. , . . v * 
 
 and had nothing left him but rags. 
 Ciir. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, 
 Expound this matter more fully to me. 
 
 Inter. So lie said, These two lads are figures : 
 The matter ex- Passion, of the men of this world ; and 
 
 Patience, of the men of that which is 
 to come; for, as here thou seest, Passion will 
 have all now this year, that is to say, in this 
 world; so are the men of this world: they must 
 
 1 Christian well knew this in his own deep experience; for 
 the burden of sin was on him still, and sorely did he feel it 
 while the Interpreter was making this explanation; and had 
 it not been for his remembrance of the warning of the man 
 at the gate, he would certainly have besought the Interpreter 
 to take off his burden. The law could not take it off; he had 
 tried that; and grace had not yet removed it; so he was 
 iorced to be quiet, and to wait patiently. But when the 
 damsel came and sprinkled the floor, and laid the dust, and 
 then the parlour was swept so easily, there were the sweet 
 m uences of the gospel imaged; there was Divine grace distil- 
 mg as the dew; there was the gentle voice of Christ hushing 
 the storm; there were the corruptions of the heart, which the 
 aw had but roused into action, yielding under the power of 
 ins and there was the soul made clean, and fit for the 
 mg o glory to inhabit. Indeed, this w r as a most instructive 
 emblem. O that my heart might be thus cleansed, thought 
 Christian, and then I verily believe I could bear my burden 
 'wth great ease to the end of my pilgrimage; but I have had 
 enough of that fierce sweeper, the Law. The Lord deliver me 
 from his besom 1—(Cheever.) 
 
 have all their good things now, they cannot stay 
 till next year, that is, until the next world, for their 
 portion of good. That proverb, ‘ A 
 bird m the hand is worth two in the man for a bird 
 bush, ’ is of more authority with them 111 thc Land ' 
 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. 2 
 
 Ciir. Then said Christian, Now I see that 
 Patience has the best wisdom, and patience has the 
 that upon many accounts. First, Be- best wisdom. 
 
 cause he stays for the best things. Second, And 
 also because he will have the glory of his, when 
 the other has nothing but rags. 
 
 Inter. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the 
 glory of the next world will never wear out; but 
 these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had 
 not so much reason to laugh at Patience, because 
 he had his good things first, as Patience will have 
 to laugh at Passion, because he had his best things 
 last; for first must give place to last, Tllings that ar0 
 because last must have his time to 6151 must s ive 
 
 ii . . place; but 
 
 come; but last gives place to nothing; things that are 
 
 for there is not another to succeed. kbtdielastill g> 
 He, therefore, that hath his portion first, must 
 needs have a time to spend it; but he that hath 
 his portion last, must have it lastingly; therefore 
 it is said of Dives, ‘Thou in thy life- Dives had his good 
 time receivedst thy good things, and thlu S 3 first * 
 likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is com¬ 
 forted, and thou art tormented.’ Lu. xvi. 25. 
 
 Chr. Then I perceive it is not best to covet 
 things that are now, but to wait for things to 
 come. 
 
 Inter. You say the truth: ‘For the things 
 which are seen are temporal; but the The first things 
 things which are not seen are eter- but temporal, 
 nal.’ 2 Co. iv. is. But though this be so, yet since 
 things present, and our fleshly appetite, are such 
 near neighbours one to another; and again, be¬ 
 cause 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 
 
 2 This was a vivid and striking emblem, and one which, in 
 its general meaning, a child could understand. Passion stands 
 for the men of this world, Patience of that which is to come ; 
 Passion for those who will have all their good things now, 
 Patience for those who are willing, with self-denial, to wail 
 for something better; Passion for those who are absorbed in 
 temporal trifles. Patience for those w'hose hearts are fixed upon 
 eternal realities; Passion the things which are seen, and the 
 impatient eagerness with which they are follow r ed, Patience the 
 things which are unseen, and the faith, humility, and deadness 
 to the world exercised in order to enjoy them. It is a good 
 commentary upon Ps. lxxiii.—(Cheever.) 
 
100 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 place where was a fire burning against a wall, and 
 one standing by it, always casting much water upon 
 it, to quench it; yet did the fire burn higher and 
 
 hotter. 
 
 Then said Christian, What means this ? 
 
 The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work 
 of grace that is wrought in the heart; he that 
 casts water upon it, to extinguish and put it out, 
 is the Devil; but in that thou seest the fire not¬ 
 withstanding burn higher and hotter, thou slialt 
 also see the reason of that. So he had him about 
 to the backside of the wall, where he saw a man 
 with a vessel of oil in his hand, of the which he 
 did also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire. 1 
 
 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 w T hich, notwithstanding what the devil can do, 
 the souls of his people prove gracious still. 2Co.xii.9. 
 And in that thou sawest that the man stood be¬ 
 hind the wall to maintain the fire, that 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, cer¬ 
 tain persons walking, who were clothed all in gold. 
 
 Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? 
 
 Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up 
 towards the door of the palace; and behold, at the 
 door stood a great company of men, as desirous to 
 go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a 
 little distance from the door, at a table-side, with 
 a book and his inkhorn before him, to take the 
 name of him that should enter therein; he saw 
 also, that in the doorway stood many men in 
 armour to keep it, being resolved to do the men 
 that would enter what hurt and mischief they 
 could. Now was Christian somewhat in amaze. 
 
 At last, when every man started back for fear of 
 the armed men, Christian saw a man 
 
 ’ The valiant man. 
 
 of a very stout countenance come up 
 to the man that sat there to write, saying, ‘ Set 
 down my name, Sir:’" the which when he had 
 done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put 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, Ac. xiv. 22, and pressed forward into the 
 palace, at which there was a pleasant voice heard 
 from those that were within, even of those that 
 walked upon the top of the palace, saying— 
 
 * Come in, come in; 
 
 Tdfovnal rrlrvW til nil fill nit. Win.* 
 
 So he went in, and was clothed with such gar¬ 
 ments as they. Then Christian smiled and said, 
 
 I think verily I know the meaning of this. 2 3 
 
 Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, 
 stay, said the Interpreter, till I have showed thee 
 a little more, and after that thou shalt go on thy 
 way. So he took him by the hand again, and led 
 
 him into a very dark room, where there Despair like an 
 • • iron case. 
 
 sat a man m an iron cage. 
 
 Noav the man, to look on, seemed very sad; he 
 sat with his eyes looking down to the ground, his 
 hands folded together, and he sighed as if he 
 would break his heart. Then said Christian, 
 What means this ? At which the Interpreter bid 
 him talk with the man. 
 
 Then said Christian to the man, What art thou ? 
 The man answered, I am what I was not once. 
 Chr. What wast thou once ? 
 
 Man. The man said, I was once a fair and 
 flourishing professor, both in mine own eyes, and 
 also in the eyes of others; I once was, as I 
 thought, fair for the Celestial City, and had then 
 even joy at the thoughts that I should get thither. 
 Lu. viii. 13 . 
 
 Chr. Well, but what art thou now ? 
 
 1 This instructive vision springs from the author’s painful, 
 but blessed experience. The flame of love in a Christian’s 
 heart, is like the fire of despair in Satan’s spirit—unquench¬ 
 able. Before Bunyan had been behind the wall, the tempter 
 suggested to him—‘ You are very hot for mercy, but I will 
 cool you, though I be seven years in chilling your heart, I can 
 do it at last; I will have you cold before long .’—[Grace Abound¬ 
 ing, No. 110.) He is the father of lies. Thus he said to 
 Christian in the fight, ‘ Here will I spill thy soul;’ instead of 
 which, Apollyon was put to flight. 
 
 W e cannot fail with such a prop, 
 
 That bears the earth’s huge pillars up. 
 
 Satan’s water can never be so powerful to quench, as Christ’s 
 oil and grace are to keep the fire burning. Sinner, believe this, 
 and love, praise, and rejoice in thy Lord. He loves with an 
 everlasting love; he saves with an everlasting salvation ; with¬ 
 out his perpetual aid, we should perish; Christ is the Alpha 
 and Omega of our safety; but how mysterious is the saint’s 
 perseverance until we have seen the secret supply 1 —(Ed.) 
 
 2 Eor a man to fight his way through infernal enemies, is 
 in every age a fearful battle ; but in addition to this, to enter 
 his name as a nonconformist in Bunyan’s time, demanded 
 intrepidity of no ordinary degree; their enemies were the 
 throne, the laws, and the bishops, armed with malignity against 
 these followers of Jesus Christ. But there were noble spirits, 
 ‘ of very stout countenance,’ that by the sword of the Spirit cut 
 their way through all opposition. Bunyan was one of these 
 worthies.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 Verily thou didst, noble Christian! And who is there 
 that does not know the meaning of it, and what heart so cold 
 as not to be ravished by it! Yea, we should think that this 
 passage alone might set any man out on this pilgrimage, might 
 bring many a careless traveller up to the gate of this glorious 
 palace to say, Set down my name. Sir ! How full of instruc¬ 
 tion is this passage 1 It set Christian’s ow r n heart on fire to 
 run forward on his journey, although the battle was before him. 
 —(Cheever.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 101 
 
 Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut 
 up in it, as in this iron cage. I cannot get out. 
 0 now I cannot! 
 
 Cult. But liow earnest thou in this condition ? 
 
 Man. I left off to watch and he sober; I laid 
 the reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned 
 against the light of the Word, and the goodness 
 of God; I have grieved the Spirit, and he is 
 gone; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me; 
 I have provoked God to anger, and he has left 
 me; I have so hardened my heart, that I cannot 
 repent. 
 
 Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is 
 there no hope for such a man as this ? Ask him, 
 said the Interpreter. Nay, said Christian, pray 
 Sir, do you. 
 
 Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Is there no 
 hope, hut you must be kept in the iron cage of 
 despair ? 
 
 Man. No, none at all. 
 
 Inter. Why, the Son of the Blessed is very 
 pitiful. 
 
 Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh, 
 He. vL 6 ; I have despised his person, Lu. xix. 14; I 
 have despised his righteousness; I have ‘ counted 
 his blood an unholy thing;’ I have ‘done despite 
 to the Spirit of grace.’ He. x. 28, 29. Therefore I 
 have shut myself out of all the promises, and 
 there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, 
 dreadful threatenings, fearful threatenings of cer¬ 
 tain judgment and fiery indignation, which shall 
 devour me as an adversary. 1 
 
 Inter. For what did you bring yourself into 
 this condition ? 
 
 Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of 
 this world; in the enjoyment of which I did then 
 promise myself much delight; but now every one 
 of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a 
 burning worm. 
 
 Inter. But canst thou not now repent and 
 turn ? 
 
 Man. God hath denied me repentance. His 
 Word gives me no encouragement to believe; yea, 
 himself hath shut me up in this iron cage; nor 
 can all the men in the world let me out. 0 eter¬ 
 nity ! eternity! how shall 1 grapple with the 
 misery that I must meet with in eternity ! 
 
 Inter. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, 
 Let this man’s misery be remembered by thee, 
 and be an everlasting caution to thee. 2 3 
 
 1 All these deeply interesting pictures are intended for 
 every age and every clime. This iron cage of despair has ever 
 shut up its victims. Many have supposed that it had a special 
 relerence to one John Child, who, under the fear of persecution, 
 abandoned his profession, and, in frightful desperation, miser¬ 
 ably perished by his own hand. See Introd. p. 73 ; see also 
 the sickness and death of Mr. Badman s brother.— (Ed.) 
 
 Bunyan intended not to represent this man as actually 
 beyond the reach of mercy, but to show the dreadful conse- 
 
 CiiR. Well, said Christian, this is fearful! God 
 help me to watch and be sober, and to pray that 
 
 1 may shun the cause of this man’s misery !$ir, 
 is it not time for me to go on my way now ? 4 
 
 Inter. Tarry till I shall show thee one thing 
 more, and then thou shalt go on thy way. 
 
 So he took Christian by the hand again, and led 
 him into a chamber, where there was one rising 
 out of bed; and as he put on his raiment, he shook 
 and trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth 
 this man thus tremble ? The Interpreter then bid 
 hirn tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. 
 So he began and said, This night, as I was in my 
 sleep, I dreamed, and behold the heavens grew 
 exceeding black; also it thundered and lightened 
 in most fearful wise, that it put me into an agony; 
 so I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds 
 rack 5 6 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 hea¬ 
 ven; they were all in flaming fire: also the heavens 
 were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice 
 saying, ‘Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment;’ 
 and with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, 
 and the dead that were therein came forth. Some 
 of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward; 
 and some sought to hide themselves under the 
 
 mountains. 1 Co. XV. 52. 1 Tli. iv. 16. Jude 14. Jn. v. 28, 29 
 
 2 Th. i. 7, 8. Re. xx. 11—14. Is. xxvi. 21. Mi. vii. 1G, 17. Ps. xcv. 1—8. 
 
 Da. vii. io. Then I saw the man that sat upon the 
 cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near. 
 Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which 
 issued out and came from before him, a convenient 
 distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the 
 judge and the prisoners at the bar. MaL iii. 2 , 3 . Da. 
 vii. 9 , 10 . 1 heard it also proclaimed to them that 
 
 attended on the man that sat on the cloud, ‘ Gather 
 together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast 
 them into the burning lake.’ Mat. iii. 12 ; xiu. 30 . Mai. 
 iv. 1 . And with that, the bottomless pit opened, 
 just whereabout I stood; out of the mouth of 
 which there came, in an abundant manner, smoke 
 and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was 
 also said to the same persons, ‘ Gather my wheat 
 into the garner. ’ Lu. iii. 17 . And with that I saw 
 
 quences of departing from God, and of being abandoned of 
 
 him to the misery of unbelief and despair.—(Cheever.) 
 
 3 ‘ An everlasting caution ’—‘ God help me to watch.’ The 
 battle with Apollyon, the dread valley, the trying scene at 
 Vanity Fail*, the exhilarating victory over By-ends and Demas, 
 dissipated the painful scene of the iron cage; and want of 
 prayerful caution led Christian into the dominion of Despair, 
 and he became for a season the victim shut up in this fright¬ 
 ful cage. Reader, may we be ever found ‘ looking unto Jesus,’ 
 then shall we be kept from Doubting Castle and the iron cage. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 4 In the midst of these heavenly instructions, why in such 
 
 haste to go ? Alas 1 the burden of sin upon his back pressed 
 him on to seek deliverance.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 ‘ Rackdriven violently by the wind.— (Ed.) 
 
102 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 many catclied up and carried away into the clouds, | 
 but I was left behind. 1 Th. iv. ig, 17 . I also sought 
 tdhiide 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. Ro. iL u, 15. Upon 
 this I awaked from my sleep. 
 
 Ciir. But what was it that made you so afraid 
 of this sight ? 
 
 Man. Why, I thought that the day of judgment 
 was come, and that I was not ready for it: but 
 this frighted me most, that the angels gathered 
 up several, and left me behind; also the pit of 
 hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My 
 conscience, too, afflicted me; and, as I thought, 
 the Judge had always his eye upon me, showing 
 indignation in his countenance. * 1 
 
 Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast 
 thou considered all these things ? 
 
 Ciir? Yes, and they put me in hope and fear. 2 
 
 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 
 
 • ■ . 
 
 1 We go about the world in the day-time, and are absorbed 
 in earthly schemes; the world is as bright as a rainbow, and 
 it bears for us no marks or predictions ot the judgment, or of 
 our sins; and conscience is retired, as it were, within a far 
 inner circle of the soul. But wdien it comes night, and the 
 pall of sleep is drawn over the senses, then conscience comes 
 out solemnly, and walks about in the silent chambers of the 
 soul, and makes her survey and her comments, and sometimes 
 sits down and sternly reads the record of a life that the waking 
 man would never look into, and the catalogue of crimes that 
 are gathering for the judgment. Imagination walks trem¬ 
 blingly behind her, and they pass through the open gate of the 
 Scriptures into the eternal world—for thither all things in 
 man’s being naturally and irresistibly tend ;—and there, imagi¬ 
 nation draws the judgment, the soul is presented at the bar of 
 God, and the eye of the Judge is on it, and a hand of fire writes, 
 
 ‘ Thou art weighed in the balances, and found wanting l’ Our 
 dreams sometimes reveal our character, our sins, our destinies, 
 more clearly than our waking thoughts ; for by day the ener¬ 
 gies of our being are turned into artificial channels, by night 
 our thoughts follow the bent that is most natural to them; 
 and as man is both an immortal and a sinful being, the conse¬ 
 quences both of his immortality and hi3 sinfulness will some¬ 
 times be made to stand out in overpowering light, when the 
 busy pursuits of day are not able to turn the soul from wan¬ 
 dering towards eternity.—(Cheever.) Bunyan profited much 
 by dreams and visions. ‘ Even in my childhood the Lord did 
 scare and affright me with fearful dreams, and did terrify me 
 with dreadful visions.’ That is a striking vision of church- 
 fellowship in the Grace Abounding , Nos. 53—56; and an 
 awful dream is narrated in the Greatness of the Soul —‘ Once 
 I dreamed that I saw two persons, whom I knew, in hell; 
 and methought I saw a continual dropping from heaven, as of 
 great drops of fire lighting upon them, to their sore distress,’ 
 vol. i. p. 148.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Our safety consists in a due proportion of hope and fear. 
 When devoid of hope, we resemble a ship without an anchor; 
 when unrestrained by fear, we are like the same vessel under 
 full sail without ballast. True comfort is the effect of watch¬ 
 fulness, diligence, and circumspection. What lessons could 
 possibly have been selected of greater importance, or more 
 suited to establish the new convert, than these are which our 
 
 author has most ingeniously and agreeably inculcated, under 
 
 the emblem of the Interpreter's curiosities ?—(Scott.) 
 
 Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address 
 himself to his journey. Then said the Interpreter, 
 The Comforter he always with thee, good Chris¬ 
 tian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the 
 City. So Christian went on his way, saying— 
 
 * Here I have seen things rare and profitable; 
 
 Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable 
 In what I have begun to take in hand; 
 
 Then let me think on them, and understand 
 Wherefore they showed me were, and let me be 
 Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee.’ 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up 
 which Christian was to go, was fenced on either 
 side with a wall, and that wall was called Salva¬ 
 tion. is. xxvi. l. Up this way, therefore, did bur¬ 
 dened Christian run, hut not without great diffi¬ 
 culty, because of the load on his back. 3 
 
 He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat 
 ascending, and upon that place stood a cross, and 
 a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I 
 saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up 
 with the cross, his burden loosed from off his 
 shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to 
 tumble, and so continued to do, till it came to the 
 mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw 
 it no more. 
 
 Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and 
 said, with a merry heart, ‘ He hath men God r& 
 given me rest by his sorrow, and life lea .^ s u A° f , 0UI 
 
 r i • i J m1 . ... guilt and burden, 
 
 by his death. Then he stood still we are as those 
 
 awhile to look and wonder; tor it was 1 
 
 very surprising to him, that the sight of the cross 
 
 should thus ease him of his burden. He looked, 
 
 therefore, and looked again, even till the springs 
 
 that were in his head sent the waters down his 
 
 cheeks. Zee. xii. io. 4 Now, as he stood looking and 
 
 weeping, behold three Shining Ones came to him 
 
 and saluted him with * Peace be to tliee.’ So the 
 
 first said to him, ‘Thy sins be forgiven thee,’ 
 
 Mar. ii. 5; the second stripped him of his rags, and 
 
 clothed him ‘ with change of raiment, ’ Zee. iii. 4; 
 
 the third also set a mark in his forehead, and 
 
 gave him a roll with a seal upon it, which he bade 
 
 him look on as he ran, and that he should give it 
 
 3 This is an important lesson, that a person may be in 
 Christ and yet have a deep sense of the burden of sin upon 
 the soul.—(Cheever.) So also Bunyan—‘Every height is 
 a difficulty to him that is loaden ; with a burden, how shall 
 w r e attain the heaven of heavens ?’—(Knowledge of Christ’s 
 Love.) 
 
 4 This efficacious sight of the cross is thus narrated in 
 Grace Abounding, No. 115 :—‘Travelling in the country, and 
 musing on the wickedness and blasphemy of my heart, that 
 scripture came in my mind—“ Having made peace through the 
 blood of his cross.” Col. i. 20. I saw that day again and again, 
 that God and my soul were friends by his blood; yea, that the 
 justice of God and my soul could embrace and kiss each other. 
 This was a good day to me; I hope I shall not forget it.’ 
 He was glad and lightsome, and had a merry heart; he was 
 before inspired with hope, but now he is a happy believer.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 103 
 
 in at tlie Celestial Gate. Ep. i. 13. 1 So they went 
 their way. Then Christian gave three leaps for 
 joy, and went on singing— 
 
 ‘ Thus far I did come laden with my sin ; 
 
 Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in 
 A sing iS ttiou™h I came hither: What a place is this 1 
 alone, when Must here be the beginning of my bliss ? 
 
 him the'joy'of ^ere *he burden fall from off my hack? 
 
 his heart. Must here the strings that hound it to me crack? 
 
 Blest cross! blest sepulchre 1 blest rather be 
 The man that there was put to shame for me!’ 2 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that he went on thus, 
 
 even until he came at a bottom, where he saw, a 
 
 little out of the way, three men fast asleep, with 
 
 fetters upon their heels. The name of the one was 
 
 Simple, Sloth, and Simple, another Sloth, and the third 
 Presumption. p resum p t ion. 
 
 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. Pr. xxiii. 34 . Awake, there¬ 
 fore, and come away; be willing also, and I will 
 help you off with your irons. He also told them, 
 If he that ‘ goeth about like a roaring lion ’ comes 
 you will certainly become a prey to his teeth. 
 1 Pe. y. 8. With that they looked upon him, and 
 began to reply in this sort: Simple said, * I see 
 
 There is no per- no danger;’ Sloth said, ‘ Yet a little 
 suasion will do, _ i » a i . , 
 
 if God openeth mor e sleep; and Presumption said, 
 
 not the eyes. < Every fat 3 must stand upon its own 
 
 1 None but those who have felt such bliss, can imagine the 
 joy with which this heavenly visitation fills the soul. The 
 Father receives the poor penitent with, ‘ Thy sins be forgiven 
 thee.’ The Son clothes him with a spotless righteousness. 
 ‘ The prodigal when he returned to his father w r as clothed with 
 rags; but the best robe is brought out, also the gold ring and 
 the shoes; yea, they are put upon him to his rejoicing.’— 
 (Come and Welcome, vol. i. p. 265.) The Holy Spirit gives him 
 a certificate; thus described by Bunyan in the House of 
 God :— 
 
 ' But bring with thee a certificate. 
 
 To show thou seest thyself most desolate; 
 
 Writ by the master, with repentance seal’d; 1 
 To show also, that here thou would’st be healed 
 By those fair leaves of that most blessed tree 
 By which alone poor sinners healed be: 2 
 And that thou dost abhor thee for thy ways, 
 
 And would’st in holiness spend all thy days; 3 
 And here be entertained; or thou wilt find 
 To entertain thee here are none inclined.’ 
 
 Vol. ii. p. 580. 
 
 Such a certificate, written upon the heart by the Holy Spirit, 
 may be lost for a season, as in the arbour on the hill, but can¬ 
 not be stolen even by Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt. For 
 the mark in his forehead, see 2 Co. iii. 2, 3; ‘ not with ink, 
 but with the Spirit of the living God, known and read of all 
 men.’—(E d.) 
 
 2 He that has come to Christ, has cast his burden upon him. 
 By faith he hath seen himself released thereof; but he that is 
 but coming, hath it yet, as to sense and feeling, upon his own 
 shoulders.—( Come and Welcome, vol. i. p. 264.) 
 
 3 ‘ Fat;’ a vessel in which things are put to be soaked, or 
 
 to ferment; a vat.—(E d.) 
 
 * ^ C A X " • 2 tie. xxi. 27. 3 Re. xxii. 14,15. See also 
 
 1 Tph. i. 13. a Re. xxii. 2. 3 Job xlii. 6. Tit. ii. 12—14. 
 
 bottom; what is the answer else that I should 
 
 give thee ?’ And so they lay down to sleep again, 
 
 and Christian went on his wav. 
 
 %/ 
 
 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 awak¬ 
 ening of them, counselling of them, and proffering 
 to help them off with their irons . 4 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 Christian talked 
 them into discourse. witl1 tllem - 
 
 Chr. Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither 
 go you ? 
 
 Form, and Hyp. We were born in the land of 
 Yain-glory, 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 ? ’ Jn. x. 1. 
 
 Form, and Hyp. They said, That to go to tho 
 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 They that come 
 head thereabout; for what they did, Sanotby^he 
 they had custom for ; and could pro- door,think that 
 
 -i i • r they can say 
 
 auce, it need were, testimony that would something in 
 
 witness it for more than a thousand tiiefiownprac- 
 
 years. tlce - 
 
 Chr. But, said Christian, will your practico 
 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, doubtless, now be admitted as a thing 
 legal by any impartial judge; and beside, said 
 they, if we get into the way, what’s matter which 
 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 
 
 4 No sooner has Christian ‘received Christ’ than he at 
 once preaches to the sleeping sinners the great salvation. He 
 stays not for human calls or ordination, hut attempts to awaken 
 them to a sense of their danger, aud presently exhorts with 
 authority the formalist and hypocrite. So it was in the per¬ 
 sonal experience of Bunyan ; after which, when his brethren 
 discovered his talent, they invited him to preach openly and 
 constantly. Dare any one find fault with that couduct, which 
 proved so extensively useful ?— (Ed.) 
 
104 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 tumbling over tlie 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 your¬ 
 selves, without his direction; and shall go out by 
 yourselves, without his mercy . 1 
 
 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¬ 
 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 trow , 2 given 
 thee by some of thy neighbours, 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. Ga. ii. 16. 
 And as for this coat that is on my back, it was 
 given me by the Lord of the place whither I go; 
 and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness with. 
 And I take it as a token of his kindness to me; 
 for I had nothing but rags before. And, besides, 
 thus I comfort myself as I go ; Surely, think I, 
 
 Ch istian has w ^ ien I come to the gate of the city, 
 got his Lord’s the Lord thereof will know me for 
 hack, and is good, since I lia\e Ins coat on niy 
 
 therewith; he back—a coat that he gave me freely 
 
 is comforted, j n the day that he stripped me of my 
 also, with his % x x . 
 
 mark and his rags. I have, moreover, a mark in 
 
 my forehead, of which, perhaps, you 
 have taken no notice, which one of my Lord’s 
 most intimate associates fixed there in the day 
 that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell 
 you, moreover, that I had then given me a roll, 
 sealed, to comfort me by reading, as I go on the 
 way; I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial 
 Gate, in token of my certain going in after it; all 
 which things, I doubt, you want, and want them 
 because you came not in at the gate. 
 
 To these things they gave him no answer; only 
 they looked upon each other, and laughed . 3 Then 
 
 1 The formalist has only the shell of religion; he is hot for 
 forms, because it is all that he has to contend for. The hypo¬ 
 crite is for God and Baal too; he can throw stones with both 
 hands. He carries fire in one hand, and water in the other. 
 —{Strait Gate , vol. i. p. 389.) These men range from sect 
 to sect, like wandering stars, to whom is reserved the blackness 
 of darkness for ever. They are barren trees; and the axe, 
 whetted by sin and the law, will make deep gashes. Death 
 sends Guilt, his first-horn, to bring them to the King of 
 terrors.— {Barren Big-tree.) 
 
 2 * We trow;’ we believe or imagine; from the Saxon. See 
 Imperial Dictionary. — (Ed.) 
 
 a These men occupied the seat of the scorner; they had 
 always been well dressed. His coat might do for such a raga¬ 
 muffin as he had been ; but they needed no garment but their 
 
 I saw that they went on all, save that Christian 
 
 kept before, who had no more talk ha3 
 
 but with himself, and that sometimes talk with him- 
 
 „ self. 
 
 sio-liinody and sometimes comfort- 
 
 s o J ••in 
 
 ably ; 4 also he would be often reading m the roll 
 that one of the Shining Ones gave him, by which 
 he was refreshed. 
 
 I beheld, then, that they all went on till they 
 came to the foot of the Hill Difficulty ; He comes to the 
 at the bottom of which was a spring. Dlfficult y- 
 There were also in the same place two other ways 
 besides that which came straight from the gate; 
 one turned to the left hand, and the other to the 
 right, at the bottom of the hill; but the narrow 
 way lay right up the hill, and the name of the 
 going up the side of the hill is called Difficulty. 
 Christian now went to the spring, and drank thereof, 
 to refresh himself, is. xlix. 10, and then began to go 
 up the hill, saying— 
 
 e The hill, though high, I covet to ascend, 
 
 The difficulty will not me offend; 
 
 For I perceive the way to life lies here. 
 
 Come, pluck up heart, let’s neither faint nor fear; 
 Better, though difficult, the right way to go, 
 
 Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe.’ 
 
 The other two also came to the foot of the hill; 
 but when they saw that the hill was steep and 
 high, and that there were two other ways to go; 
 and supposing also that these two ways might 
 meet again, with that up which Christian went, on 
 the other side of the hill; therefore they were 
 resolved to go in those ways. Now the name of 
 one of those ways was Danger, and the name of the 
 other Destruction. So the one took the way which 
 is called Danger, which led him into a The danger of 
 great wood, and the other took direct- turning out of 
 ly 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 . 5 
 
 own righteousness—the forms of their church. The mark, or 
 certificate of the new birth, was an object of scorn to them. 
 Probably they pitied him as a harmless mystic, weak in mind 
 
 and illiterate. Alas 1 how soon was their laughter tinned into 
 
 mourning. Fear and calamity overwhelmed them. They 
 trusted in themselves, and there was none to deliver.—(E d.) 
 
 4 The Christian can hold no communion with a mere 
 formal professor. The Christian loves to be speaking of the 
 Lord’s grace and goodness, of his conflicts and consolations, of 
 the Lord’s dealings with his soul, and of the blessed confidence 
 which he is enabled to place in him.—(.T. B.) 
 
 5 Such is the fate of those who keep their sins with tlieir 
 profession, and will not encounter difficulty in cuttmg them 
 off. * Not all their pretences of seeking after and praying to 
 God will keep them from falling and splitting themselves in 
 sunder .’—{A Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity.) There 
 are heights that build themselves up in us, and exalt them¬ 
 selves to keep the knowledge of God from our hearts. They 
 oppose and contradict our spiritual understanding of God 
 and his Christ. These are the dark mountains at which we 
 should certainly stumble and fall, but for one who can leap 
 and skip over them to our aid.— {Saints' Knowledge of Christ s 
 Love , vol. ii. p. 8.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 105 
 
 1 looked, then, after Christian, to see him go up 
 the hill, where I perceived he fell from running to 
 going, and from going to clambering upon his 
 hands and his knees, because of the steepness of 
 the place. Now, about the midway to the top 
 
 A ward of grace. ° f ^ . hil1 WftS a P leasant arbour > 
 made by the Lord of the hill for the 
 
 refreshing of weary travellers; thither, therefore, 
 
 Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him. 
 
 Then he pulled his roll out of his bosom, and read 
 
 therein to his comfort; he also now began afresh 
 
 to take a review of the coat or garment that was 
 
 given him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing 
 
 himself awhile, he at last fell into a slumber, and 
 
 thence into a fast sleep, 1 * which detained him in 
 
 that place until it was almost night; and in his 
 
 He that sleeps 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.’ 
 
 Pr. vi. 6. And with that Christian suddenly started up, 
 
 and sped him on his way, and went apace, till he 
 
 came to the top of the hill. 
 
 Now, when he was got up to the top of the hill, 
 there came two men running to meet him amain; 
 
 Christian meets tbe name of the one was Timorous, 
 
 wlt )V Mlstrust ail d of the other Mistrust; to whom 
 a„dl«. said> wbat , s the mat . 
 
 ter ? 1 ou run the wrong way. Timorous answered, 
 that they were going to the City of Zion, and had 
 got up that difficult place; but, said he, the further 
 we go, the more danger we meet with ; wherefore 
 we turned, and are going back again. 3 
 
 \ es, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple 
 of lions in the way, whether sleeping or waking we 
 know not, and we could not think, if we came 
 within reach, but they would presently pull us in 
 pieces. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian, You make me afraid, 
 but whither shall I fly to be safe ? If I go back 
 to mine own country, that is prepared for fire and 
 brimstone, and I shall certainly perish there. If 
 I can get to the Celestial City, I am sure to be in 
 Ciiristianshakes safety there. ' I must venture. To go 
 back is nothing but death ; to go for¬ 
 ward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it. 
 
 . Pleased with the gilts of grace, rather than with the gra¬ 
 cious giver, pride secretly creeps in; and we fall first into a 
 . Se ^' C0I11 placcnce, and then into indolence and security, 
 nns is intended by his falling fast asleep.—(Dr. Dodd.) 
 
 ^ lllu l £ loth deprives the Christian of his comforts. "What 
 le intended only lor a moment’s nap, like a man asleep during 
 sermon-time in church, became a deep sleep, and his roll fell 
 out of his hand; and yet he ran well while there was nothing 
 special to alarm him. Religious privileges should refresh and 
 not pull up.—(Cheever.) 
 
 3 But why go back again? That is the next way to hell, 
 
 ever go over hedge and ditch to hell. They that miss life 
 
 perish, because they will not let go their sins, or have no 
 saving faith.—(Bunyan’s Strait Gate, vol. i. p. 388.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 I will yet go forward. 4 * So Mistrust and Timorous 
 lan down the hill, and Christian went on his way. 
 Lut, thinking again of what lie heard from the 
 men, he felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might 
 read therein, and be comforted ; but christianized 
 lie felt, and found it not. Then was llis , roU wh 1 ere ' 
 Christian in great distress, and knew take comfort, 
 not what to do; for he wanted that which used to 
 relieve him, and that which should have been his 
 pass into the Celestial City. Here, therefore, he 
 began to be much perplexed, and knew not what 
 to do. 1 ’ At last, he bethought himself, that he had 
 slept in the arbour that is on the side He is perplexed 
 of the hill; and, falling down upon his for r ° a 
 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 Christian’s heart! Sometimes 
 he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he 
 chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in 
 that place, which was erected only for a little 
 refreshment for his weariness. Thus therefore he 
 went back, carefully looking on this side, and on 
 that, all the way as he went, if happily he might 
 find liis roll, that had been his comfort so many 
 times in his journey. He went thus, Cliristian 1)e 
 till he came again within sight of the wails ins looi- 
 arbour where he sat and slept; but lsh sleepm& * 
 that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bring- 
 ing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his 
 mind. Re. n. 5 . 1 Th. v. 7 , 8. Thus, therefore, he now 
 went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, ‘ 0 
 wretched man that I am ! ’ that I should sleep in 
 the day-time! 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! 6 
 
 How many steps have I took in vain! Thus it 
 happened to Israel, for their sin; they were sent 
 
 4 To go forward is attended with the fear of death, but 
 eternal life is beyond. I must venture. 
 
 My hill was further: so 1 slung away, 
 
 Yet heard a cry 
 
 Just as I went, * Rone goes that way 
 And fives.’ If that be all, said I, 
 
 Alter so foul a journey, death is fair 
 And but a chair. 
 
 —(G. Herbert’s Temple.—The Pilgrimage.) 
 
 lie is perplexed for his roll; this is right. If we suffer 
 spiritual loss, and are easy and unconcerned about it, it is a 
 sad sign that we indulge carnal security and vain confidences. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 G The backslider is attended with fears and doubts, such as 
 he felt not before, built on the vileness of his backsliding; 
 more dreadful scriptures look him in the face, with then- 
 dreadful physiognomy, llis new sins all turn talking devils, 
 threatening devils, roaring devils, within him. Besides, he 
 doubts the truth of his first conversion, and thus adds lead to 
 his heels in returning to God by Christ. He can tell strange 
 stones, and yet such as are very true. No man can tell what is 
 to be seen and felt in the whale’s belly but Jonah.—(Bunyan’s 
 Christ a Complete Saviour , vol. i. p. 224.) 
 
 14 
 
106 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 back again by tbe way of the Red Sea; and I am 
 made to tread those steps with sorrow, which I 
 might have trod with delight, had it not been for 
 this sinful sleep. How far might I have been on 
 my way by this time! I am made to tread those 
 steps thrice over, which I needed not to have trod 
 but once ; yea, now also I am like to be benighted, 
 for the day is almost spent. 0 that I had not slept! 
 
 Now by this time he was come to the arbour 
 again, where for a while he sat down and wept; 
 but at last, as Christian would have it, looking 
 Christian find- sorrowfully down under the settle, there 
 where'he lost lie espied his roll; the which he, with 
 it. trembling and haste, catched up, and 
 
 put it into his bosom. But who can tell how joy¬ 
 ful this man was when he had gotten his roll again! 
 for this roll was the assurance of his life and ac¬ 
 ceptance 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 0 
 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 recal the 
 vanity of his sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus 
 he again began to condole with himself. 0 thou 
 sinful sleep! how, for thy sake am I like to be 
 benighted in my journey! I must walk without the 
 sun; darkness must cover the path of my feet; and 
 I must hear the noise of the doleful creatures, be¬ 
 cause of my sinful sleep. iTh. v. 6, 7. 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 miscar¬ 
 riage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a 
 very stately palace before him, the name of which 
 was Beautiful; and it stood just by the highway 
 side. 1 
 
 So I saw in my dream, that he made haste and 
 went forward, that if possible he might get lodging 
 there. Now before he had gone far, he entered 
 into a very narrow passage, which was about a 
 furlong off of the porter’s lodge; and looking very 
 narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions 
 in the way. 2 Now, thought he, I see the dangers 
 
 1 ‘ Beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole earth, is Mount 
 Zion; God is known in her palaces for a refuge.’ Those who 
 enter must joyfully submit to the laws and ordinances of this 
 house.—(Andronicus.) 
 
 2 The two lions, civil despotism and ecclesiastical.tyranny, 
 terrified many young converts, when desirous of joining a 
 Christian church, here represented by the Beautiful Palace. 
 In the reign of the Tudors they committed sad havoc. In 
 Runyan’s time, they were chained, so that few suffered martyr- 
 
 that Mistrust and Timorous were driven back bv. 
 (The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.) 
 Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go 
 back after them, for he thought nothing but death 
 was before him. But the porter at the lodge, whose 
 name is Watchful, perceiving that Christian made 
 a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, 
 saying, Is thy strength so small? Mar. xiii. 34-37. 
 Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are 
 placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for 
 discovery of those that have none. Keep in the 
 midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto 
 thee. 
 
 Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear 
 of the lions, but taking good heed to the directions 
 of the porter ; he heard them roar, but they did him 
 no harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on 
 till he came and stood before the gate, where the 
 porter was. Then said Christian to tlie porter, Si), 
 what house is this ? and may I lodge here to¬ 
 night? The porter answered, This house was built 
 by the Lord of the hill, and he built it for the relief 
 and security of pilgrims. The porter also asked 
 whence he was, and whither he was going. 
 
 Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, 
 and am going to Mount Zion; but because the sun 
 is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night. 
 
 Por. What is your name ? 
 
 Ciir. My name is now Christian, but my name 
 at the first was Graceless; I came of the race of 
 Japheth, whom God will persuade to dwell in the 
 tents of Skem. Ge. ix. 27 . 
 
 Por. But how doth it happen that you come so 
 late? The sun is set. 
 
 Chr. I had been here sooner, but that, ‘ wretched 
 man that I am! ’ I slept in the arbour that stands 
 on the hill-side ; nay, I had, notwithstanding that, 
 been here much sooner, but that, in my sleep, I lost 
 my evidence, and came without it to the brow of 
 the hill; and then feeling for it, and 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, Avho 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 
 
 dom, although many were ruined, imprisoned, and perished 
 in dungeons." When Faithful passed they were asleep. It was 
 a short cessation from persecution. In the Second Part, Great- 
 heart slew Giant Bloody-man, who hacked the lions; probably 
 referring to the wretched death of that monster, Judge Jefferies. 
 And in the experience of Mr. Fearing, it is clear that the Hill 
 Difficulty and the lions were intended to represent temporal 
 and bodily troubles, and not spiritual difficulties:—‘ When we 
 came at the Hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did 
 he much fear the lions; for you must know that his trouble 
 was not about such things as these; his fear was about his 
 acceptance at last.’—(E d.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 107 
 
 of the house, a grave and beautiful damsel, named 
 Discretion, and asked why she was called. 
 
 The porter answered, This man is in a journey 
 from the City of Destruction to Mount Zion, but 
 being 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 
 1 have so much the more a desire to lodge here 
 to-night, because, by what I perceive, this place 
 was built by the Lord of the hill, for the relief and 
 security of pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water 
 stood in her eyes ; and after a little pause, she said, 
 1 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 dis¬ 
 course with him, had him into the family; and 
 many of them meeting him at the threshold of the 
 house, said, ‘ Come in, thou blessed of the Lord;’ 
 this house was built by the Lord of the hill, on 
 purpose to entertain such pilgrims in. 1 Then he 
 bowed his head, and followed them into the house. 
 So when he was come in and sat down, they gave 
 him something to drink, and consented together, 
 that until supper was ready, some of them should 
 
 1 Christian, after feeling the burden of sin, entering by 
 Christ the gate, taught by the Holy Spirit lessons of "high 
 concern in the Bible or House of the Interpreter; after losing 
 his burden by faith in his crucified Saviour, his sins pardoned, 
 clothed with his Lord’s righteousness, marked by a godly 
 profession, he becomes fit for church-fellowship; is invited by 
 Bishop Gifford, the porter; and, with the consent of the inmates, 
 he enters the house called Beautiful. Mark, reader, not as 
 essential to salvation ; it is by the side of the road, not across 
 it; all that was essential had taken place before. Paithful did 
 not enter. Llere is no compulsion either to enter or pay : that 
 would have converted it into the house of arrogance or persecu¬ 
 tion. It is upon the Ilill Difficulty, requiring personal, willing 
 efforts to scramble up; and holy zeal and courage to bear the 
 taunts of the world and the growling frowns of the lions. Here 
 he has new lessons to learn of Discretion, Piety, Prudence, and 
 Charity, to bear with his fellow-members, and they with him; 
 and here he is armed for his journey. Many are the blessed 
 enjoyments of church-fellowship. * Esther was had to the 
 house of the women to be purified, and so came to the king. 
 God also hath appointed that those who come into his royal 
 presence should first go to the house of the women, the church.’ 
 (See Bunyan’s Greatness of the Strut, vol. i. p. 145.) Every 
 soul must be fitted for the royal presence, usually in church- 
 fellowship : but these lovely maidens sometimes wait on and 
 instruct those who never enter the house Beautiful; who 
 belong to the church universal, but not to any local body of 
 Christians. John directs his Revelations to the seven churches 
 in Asia; Paul,his epistles to the churches in Galatia, or to the 
 church at Corinth—all distinct bodies of Christians; James to 
 the twelve tribes; and Peter to the strangers, and ‘to them 
 that have obtained like precious faith,’ of all churches.— (Ed.) 
 
 have some particular discourse with Christian, for 
 the best improvement of time ; and they appointed 
 I iety, and Prudence, and Charity to discourse with 
 him ; and thus they began: 
 
 Piety. Come, good Christian, since we have 
 been so loving to you, to receive you Pi ety discourses 
 into our house this night, let us, if hmi - 
 perhaps we may better ourselves thereby, talk with 
 you of all things that have happened to you in 
 your pilgrimage. 
 
 Chr. With a very good will, and I am glad that 
 you are so well disposed. 
 
 Piety. What moved you at first to betake your¬ 
 self to a pilgrim’s life ? 
 
 Ciir. I was driven out of my native country, 
 by a dreadful sound that was in mine How Christian 
 ears ; to wit, that unavoidable destruc- 5“ 
 tion did attend me, if I abode in that country, 
 place where I tvas. 
 
 Piety. But how did it happen that you came 
 out of your country this way ? 
 
 Chr. It was as God would have it; for when I 
 was under the fears of destruction, I did not know 
 whither to go; but by chance there came a man, 
 even to me, as I was trembling and h ow he got into 
 weeping, whose name is Evangelist, th ewaytoZion 
 
 and he directed me to the wicket-gate, which else 
 I should never have found, and so set me into the 
 way that hath led me directly to this house. 
 
 Piety. But did you not come by the house of 
 the Interpreter ? 
 
 Ciir. Yes, and did see such things there, the 
 remembrance of which will stick by me as long as 
 I live ; especially three things, to wit, 
 
 i m • \ i f n . A rehearsal of 
 
 now Christ, in despite of Satan, main- what he saw in 
 
 tains his work of grace in the heart; tlie way * 
 
 how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes 
 
 of God’s mercy; and also the dream of him that 
 
 thought in his sleep the day of judgment was come. 
 
 Piety. Why, did you hear him tell his dream? 
 
 Ciir. Yes, and a dreadful one it was. 1 thought 
 
 it made my heart ache as he was telling of it; but 
 
 yet I am glad I heard it. 
 
 Piety. Was that all that you saw at the house 
 
 of the Interpreter ? 
 
 Ciir. Eo; he took me and had me where he 
 showed me a stately palace, and how the people 
 were clad in gold that were in it; and how there 
 came a venturous man and cut his way through the 
 armed men that stood in the door to keep him out; 
 and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal 
 glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart! 
 
 1 would have staid at that good man’s house a 
 twelvemonth, but that I knew I had further to go. 
 Piety. And what 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 
 
103 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 burden fall off my back (for I groaned under a very 
 heavy burden), but then it fell down from off me. 
 It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such 
 a thing before ; yea, and while I stood looking up, 
 for then I could not forbear looking, three Shining 
 Ones came to me. One of them testified that my 
 sins were forgiven me; another stripped me of my 
 
 rags, and gave me this broidered coat which you 
 see; and the third set the mark which you see in 
 my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll (And 
 with that he plucked it out of his bosom.) 
 
 Piety. But you saw more than this, did you not ? 
 Ciir. 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 Formality and Hypocrisy 
 come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pre¬ 
 tended, to Zion, but they were quickly lost, even 
 as I myself did tell them; but they would not be¬ 
 lieve. But above all, I found it hard work to get 
 up this hill, and as hard to come by the lions’ 
 mouths; and truly if it had not been for the good 
 man, the porter that stands at the gate, I do not 
 know but that after all I might have gone back 
 again; but now, I thank God I am here, and I 
 thank you for receiving of me. 
 
 Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few 
 questions, and desired his answer to them. 
 
 Prudence dis- Prud. Do you not think sometimes 
 courses him. 0 f the country from whence you came ? 
 Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detesta- 
 
 „ . ,. , tion: ‘truly if I had been mindful of 
 Christian s J 
 
 thoughts of his that country from whence 1 came out, 
 native country, j have had opportunity to have 
 
 returned; but now I desire a better country, that 
 is, an heavenly.’ He. xi. 15, 16. 
 
 Prud. 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; espe- 
 
 Christian dis m y inward and carnal cogita- 
 
 tasted with car- tions, with which all my countrymen, 
 naicogitat.oas. ^ we p as m y Se lf, were delighted ; but 
 
 now all those things are my grief; and might I 
 but choose mine own things, I would choose never 
 Christian’s to think of those things more; but 
 
 choice. when I would be doing of that which 
 
 is best, that which is worst is with me. Ro. vii. 
 
 Prud. Do you not find sometimes, as if those 
 things were vanquished, which at other times are 
 your perplexity? 
 
 Ciir. Yes, but that is but seldom; but they 
 Christian’s are to me golden hours, in which such 
 golden hours, things happen to me. 1 
 
 1 The true Christian’s inmost feelings will best explain 
 these answers, which no exposition can elucidate to those who 
 
 Prud. Can you remember by what means you 
 find your annoyances, at times, as if they were 
 vanquished ? 
 
 Ciir. Yes; when I think what I saw at the cross, 
 that will do it; and when I look upon How Christian 
 my broidered coat, that will do it; gainst his cor- 
 also when I look into the roll that I lu P a ° n? - 
 carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when my 
 thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, 
 that will do it. 2 
 
 Prud. And what is it that makes you so desirous 
 to go to Mount Zion? 
 
 Ciir. Why, there I hope to see him alive that 
 did hang dead on the cross ; and there why Christian 
 I hope to be rid of all those things would be at 
 that to this day are in me an annoy¬ 
 ance to me ; there, they say, there is no death ; and 
 there I shall dwell with such company as I like 
 best. is. xxv. 8. Re. xxi. 4. For, to tell you truth, I 
 love him, because I was by him eased of my bur¬ 
 den ; 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 charity di?- 
 you a family ? Are you a married man ? courses him. 
 
 Ciir. I have a wife and four small children. 3 
 
 Ciiar. And why did you not bring them along 
 
 with you? 
 
 Ciir. Then Christian wept, and said, 0 how 
 willingly would I have done it! but Christian > s love 
 they were all of them utterly averse to his wile ami 
 
 a . ° children. 
 
 to my going on pilgrimage. 
 
 Char. But vou should have talked to them, and 
 
 4 / 
 
 have endeavoured to have shown them the danger 
 of being behind. 
 
 Chr. So I did; and told them also what God 
 had shown to me of the destruction of our city; 
 ‘ but I seemed to them as one that mocked, ’ and 
 they believed me not. Ge. xix. 14 . 
 
 Char. And did you pray to God that he would 
 bless your counsel to them ? 
 
 Ciir. Yes, and that with much affection; for you 
 must think that my wife and poor children were 
 very dear unto me. 
 
 are unacquainted with the conflict to which they refer. The 
 golden hours, fleeting and precious, are earnests of the ever¬ 
 lasting holy felicity of heaven.—(Scott.) 
 
 2 The only true"mode of vanquishing carnal thoughts is look¬ 
 ing at Christ crucified, or dwelling upon his dying love, the 
 robe of righteousness which clothes his naked soul, his roll or 
 evidence of his interest, and the glory and happiness of heaven! 
 Happy souls who thus oppose their corruptions!—(Dr. Dodd.) 
 
 3 This was the fact as it regards Bunyan when he was 
 writing the ‘ Pilgrim.’ He had a wife, two sons, and two 
 daughters. This conversation was first published in the second 
 edition, 1678 ; and if he referred to his own family, it was to 
 his second wife, a most worthy and heroic woman; but she 
 and some of his children were fellow-pilgrims with him. His 
 eldest son was a preacher eleven years before the Second Part 
 of the * Pilgrim’ was published.—(E d.) 
 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 109 
 
 Christian’s fears 
 of perisliin" 
 might be read 
 in his very 
 countenance. 
 
 Char. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, 
 and fear of destruction? for I suppose that destruc¬ 
 tion was visible enough to you. 
 
 Ciir. Yes, over, and over, and over. They 
 might also see my fears in my coun¬ 
 tenance, in my tears, and also in my 
 trembling under the apprehension of 
 the judgment that did hang over our 
 heads; but all was not sufficient to prevail with 
 them to come with me. 
 
 Ciiar. But what could they say for themselves, 
 why they came not? 
 
 Ciir. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this 
 The cause why world, and my children were given to 
 d!4n dhi'not'go ^ ie foolish delights of youth ; so what 
 with him. by one thing, and what by another, 
 they left me to wander in this manner alone. 
 
 Char. But did you not, with your vain life, 
 damp all that you by words used by way of per¬ 
 suasion to bring them away Avith you? 1 
 
 Chr. Indeed, I cannot commend my life; for I 
 am conscious to myself of many failings therein ; 
 1 knoAV also, that a man by his conversation may 
 soon overthroAv, Avhat by argument or persuasion 
 he doth labour to fasten upon others for their good. 
 Christian’s good Yet this I can say, I Avas very wary 
 ESS of giving them occasion, by any un¬ 
 children. seemly action, to make them averse 
 to going on pilgrimage. 2 * Yea, for this very thing, 
 they would tell me I Avas too precise, and that I 
 denied myself of things, for their sakes, in Avhieli 
 they saw no evil. Nay, I think I may say, that 
 if what they suav in me did hinder them, it Avas my 
 great tenderness in sinning against God, or of 
 doing any Avrong to my neighbour. 
 
 Ciiar. Indeed Cain hated his brother, ‘ because 
 his oavii Avorks Avere evil, and his brother’s right¬ 
 eous,’ 1 Jn. iii. 12; and if thy Avife and children have 
 „ . . been offended with thee for this, thev 
 
 Christian clear . J 
 
 of their blood thereby sIioav themselves to be lm- 
 
 nthi} pensh. p] aca ] 3 [ e good, and ‘ thou hast de¬ 
 livered thy soul from their blood.’ Eze. iii. 19. 
 
 Noav I satv in my dream, that thus they sat 
 talking together until supper Avas ready. 0 So 
 
 1 0 soul! consider this deeply. It is the life of a Christian 
 that carries more conviction and persuasion than his Avords.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 2 Those that religiously name the name of Christ, and do 
 not depart from iniquity, cause the perishing of many. A pro¬ 
 fessor that hath not forsaken his iniquity is like one that comes 
 out of a pest-house to his home, with all his plague-sores 
 running. He hath the breath of a dragon, and poisons the 
 air round about him. This is the man that slays his children, 
 his kinsmen, his friends, and himself. 0 ! the millstone that 
 God will shortly hang about your necks, when you must be 
 drowned in the sea and deluge of God’s wrath.—(Bunyan’s 
 Holy Life, vol. ii. p. 530.) 
 
 3 IIoav beautiful must that church be where Watchful is the 
 porter; where Discretion admits the members; Avhere Pru¬ 
 dence takes the oversight; where Piety conducts the worship ; 
 and where Charity endears the members one to another! They 
 
 AA r hen they had made ready, they sat doA\m to meat. 
 
 Noav the table Avas furnished ‘Avith fat ... 
 
 . What Christian 
 
 things, and Avith Avine that Avas Avell had to his sup. 
 refined:’ and all their talk at the table pLr ‘ 
 
 Avas about the Lord of the hill ; as, namely, about 
 Avhat he had done, and wherefore ho Their talk at 
 did Avhat he did, and why lie had supper-time. 
 
 builded that house. And by what they said, I 
 percei\'ed that he had been a great Avarrior, and 
 had fought Avith and slain ‘ him that had the power 
 of death,’ but not Avithout great danger to himself, 
 Avhich made me love him the more . 4 He. ii. u, is. 
 
 For, as they said, and as I believe (said Chris¬ 
 tian), lie did it with the loss of much blood; but 
 that Avhich put glory of grace into all he did, Avas, 
 that he did it out of pure love to his country. And 
 besides, there AA'ere some of them of the household 
 that said they had been and spoke with him since 
 he did die on the cross; and they have attested 
 that they had it from his OAvn lips, that he is such 
 a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be 
 found from the east to the Avest. 
 
 They, moreover, gave an instance of Avhat they 
 affirmed, and that Avas, he had stripped himself of 
 his glory, that he might do this for the poor; and 
 that they heard him say and affirm, ‘ that he 
 Avould not dAvell in the mountain of Zion alone.’ 
 They said, moreover, that he had made Christ makes 
 many pilgrims princes, though by na- princes of beg- 
 ture they Avere beggars born, and their &dls ’ 
 original had been the dunghill, l Sa. ii. 8. Ps. cxm. 7. 
 
 Thus they discoursed together till late at night; 
 and after they had committed themselves to their 
 Lord for protection, they betook themselves to rest: 
 the Pilgrim they laid in a large upper Christian’s bed¬ 
 chamber, Avhose windoAv opened toward chamber, 
 the sun-rising ; the name of the chamber Avas 
 Peace ; 5 6 where he slept till break of day, and then 
 he awoke and sang (j — 
 
 partake of the Lord’s Supper, a feast of fat things, with wine 
 
 well refined.—(J. B.) 
 
 4 Ah! theirs was converse such as it behoves 
 Mau to maintain, and such as God approves— 
 
 Christ aud his character their only scope, 
 
 Their subject, and their object, and their hope. 
 
 O days of heaven, and nights of equal praise 1 
 Serene and peaceful as those heavenly days 
 When souls drawn upwards in communion sweet, 
 Eujoy the stillness of some close retreat, 
 
 Discourse, as if releas’d aud safe at home, 
 
 Of dangers past, and wonders yet to come.—(Cowper.) 
 
 5 When Christiana and her party arrived at this house 
 Beautiful, she requested that they might repose in the same 
 chamber, called Peace, which was granted. Ihe author, iu 
 his marginal note, explains the nature of this resting-place by 
 the Avords, ‘ Christ’s bosom is for all pilgrims.’—(E d.) 
 
 6 How suddeidy that straight and glittering shaft 
 Shot ’thwart the earth 1 In crown of living fire 
 Up comes the day 1 As if they, conscious, quaff’d 
 The sunny flood, hill, forest, city, spire, 
 
 Laugh in the wakening light. Go, vain Desire ! 
 
 The dusky lights have gone; go thou thy way 1 
 
 
no 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Where am I now? Is this the love and care 
 Of Jesus for the men that pilgrims are ? 
 
 Thus to provide! that I should be forgiven! 
 And dwell already the next door to heaven ! 
 
 So, in the morning, they all got up; and after 
 some more discourse, they told him that he should 
 not depart till they had shown him the rarities of 
 Christian had that place. And first, they had him 
 and he into the study, where they showed him 
 saw there. records of the greatest antiquity; in 
 which, as I remember my dream, they showed him 
 first the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that he 
 was the son of the Ancient of Days, and came by 
 that eternal generation. Here also was more fully 
 recorded the acts that he had done, and the names 
 of many hundreds that he had taken into his ser¬ 
 vice ; and how he had placed them in such habita¬ 
 tions, that could neither by length of days, nor 
 decays of nature, he dissolved. 
 
 Then they read to him some of the worthy acts 
 that some of his servants had done: as, how they 
 had ‘ subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, 
 obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, 
 quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of 
 the sword, out of weakness were made strong, 
 waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the 
 armies of the aliens.’ He. xi. 33 , 34 . 
 
 They then read again in another part of the 
 records of the house, where it was showed how 
 willing their Lord was to receive into his favour 
 any, even any, though they in time past had offered 
 great affronts to his person and proceedings. Here 
 also were several other histories of many other 
 famous things, of all which Christian had a view; 
 as of things both ancient and modern; together 
 with prophecies and predictions of things that have 
 their certain accomplishment, both to the dread and 
 amazement of enemies, and the comfort and solace 
 of pilgrims. 
 
 The next day they took him and had him into 
 the armoury, where they showed him all manner of 
 
 Christian had furni ture, which their Lord had pro- 
 into the car- vided for pilgrims, as sword, shield, 
 
 moury. , , 1 * 1 ° ’ ’ 
 
 helmet, breastpiate, all -prayer, and 
 shoes that would not wear out. 1 And there was 
 
 And pining Discontent, like them expire! 
 
 Be called my chamber Peace, when ends the day, 
 
 And let me, with the dawn, like Pilgrim, sing and pray. 
 Great is the Lord our God, 
 
 And let his praise be great: 
 
 He makes his churches his abode. 
 
 His most delightful seat.—(Dr. Watts.) 
 
 1 Should you see a man that did not go from door to door, 
 but he must be clad in a coat of mail, and have a helmet of 
 
 brass upon his head, and for his life-guard not so few as a 
 thousand men to w T ait on him, would you not say, Surely this 
 man has store of enemies at hand ? If Solomon used to have 
 about his bed no less than threescore of the valiantest of Israel, 
 holding swords, and being expert in w r ar, what guard and safe¬ 
 guard doth God’s people need, who are, night and day, roared 
 
 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. 2 * 2 
 
 They also showed him some of the engines with 
 which some of his servants had done wonderful 
 things. They showed him Moses’ Christian is 
 
 rod ; the hammer and nail with which made to see 
 Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trum- ailclLUt thillss ‘ 
 pets, and lamps too, with which Gibeon put to flight 
 the armies of Midian. Then they showed him the 
 ox’s goad wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred 
 men. They showed him, also, the jaw-bone with 
 which Samson did such mighty feats. They 
 showed him, moreover, the sling and stone with 
 which David slew Goliah of Gath ; and the sword, 
 also, with which their Lord will kill the Man of 
 Sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the prey. 
 They showed him, besides, many excellent things, 
 with which Christian was much delighted. This 
 done, they went to their rest again. 3 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that, on the morrow, 
 he got up to go forward; but they desired him to 
 stay till the next day also; and then, said they, 
 we will, if the day be clear, show Christian show- 
 you the Delectable Mountains, 4 which, Jabi^Moun- 60 ’ 
 they said, would yet further add to lains - 
 his comfort, because they were nearer the desired 
 haven than the place where at present he was; so 
 he consented and staid. When the morning was 
 up, they had him to the top of the house, and bid 
 him look south ; so he did ; and, behold, at a great 
 distance, he saw a most pleasant mountainous 
 country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of 
 all sorts, flowers also, with springs and fountains, 
 very delectable to behold, is. xxxiti. ie, 17 . Then he 
 
 on by the unmerciful fallen angels ? Why, they lie in wait for 
 poor Israel in every bole, and be is for ever in danger of being 
 either stabbed or destroyed.— (Bunyan’s Israel's Hope, vol. i. 
 p. 602.) 
 
 2 Christ himself is the Christian’s armoury. When he puts 
 on Christ, he is then completely armed from head to foot. 
 Are his loins girt about with truth ? Christ is the truth. Has 
 he on the breastplate of righteousness? Christ is our right¬ 
 eousness. Are his feet shod with the gospel of peace ? Christ 
 is our peace. Does he take the shield of faith, and helmet of 
 salvation ? Christ is that shield, and all our salvation. Does 
 he take the sword of the Spirit, v r hich is the Word of God ? 
 Christ is the Word of God. Thus he puts on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ; by his Spirit fights the fight of faith; and, in spite of 
 men, of devils, and of his own evil heart, lays hold of eternal 
 life. Thus Christ is all in all.—(J. B.) 
 
 3 The church in the wilderness, even her porch, is full of 
 pillars—apostles, prophets, and martyrs of Jesus. There are 
 hung up also the shields that the old warriors used, and on the 
 walls are painted the brave achievements they have done. 
 There, also, are such encouragements that one would think that 
 none who came thither w r ould ever attempt to go back. Yet 
 some forsake the place.—(Bunyan’s House of Lebanon.) 
 
 4 The Delectable Mountains, as seen at a distance, represent 
 those distinct views of the privileges and consolations, attainable 
 in this life, with which believers are sometimes favoured. This 
 is the pre-eminent advantage of Christian communion, and can 
 only be enjoyed at some special seasons, when the Sun of Right¬ 
 eousness shines upon the soul.—(Scott.) ' 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 asked the name of the country. They said it was 
 Immanuel’s Land ; and it is as common, said they, 
 as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And 
 when thou comest there, from thence, said they, 
 thou mayest see to the gate of the Celestial City, 
 as the shepherds that live there will make appear. 
 
 Now, he bethought himself of setting forward, 
 Christian sets and they were willing he should. But 
 
 forward. first, said they, let us go again into 
 the armoury. So they did; and when they came 
 Christian sent there, they harnessed him from head 
 a " ay anue<L 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 lie saw any pilgrims pass by. Then 
 the porter answered, Yes. 
 
 Cur. Pray, did you know him ? said he. 
 
 Por. I asked his name, and he told me it was 
 Faithful. 
 
 Ciir. 0, said Christian, I know him; he is my 
 townsman, my near neighbour ; he comes from the 
 place where I was born. How far do you think 
 he may be before ? 
 
 Por. He is got by this time below the hill. 
 
 Ciir. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the 
 How Christian Lord be with thee, and add to all thy 
 greet^at^pari- blessings much increase, for the kind- 
 mg - ness that thou hast showed 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 Chris¬ 
 tian, as it was difficult coming up, so, so far as I 
 can see, it is dangerous going down. Yes, said 
 Prudence, so it is, for it is a hard matter for a man 
 The Valiev of to go down into the Valley of Humili- 
 Huxniiiation. a ti 0 n, as thou art now, and to catch 
 
 no slip by the way-; therefore, said they, are we 
 come out to accompany thee down the hill. So 
 he began to go down, but very warily; yet he 
 caught a slip or two. 1 
 
 1 Thus it is, after a pilgrim has been favoured with any 
 special and peculiar blessings, there is danger of his being 
 puffed up by them, and exalted on account of them; so was 
 even holy Paul; therefore, the messenger of Satan was per¬ 
 mitted to buffet him. 2 Co. xii. 7.—(Mason.) We are not told 
 here what these slips were ; but when Christian narrates the 
 battle to Hopeful, he lets us into the secret:—‘ These three 
 villains,’ Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, ‘ 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, 1 was clothed 
 with armour of proof.’ In the Second Part, Great-heart attri¬ 
 buted the sore combat with Apollyon to have arisen from ‘ the 
 fruit of those slips that he got in going down the hill.’ Great 
 enjoyments need the most prayerful watchfulness in going 
 down from them, lest those three villains cause us to slip. 
 Christian’s heavenly enjoyment in the communion of saints was 
 followed by his humbling adventures in the valley—a needful 
 
 Then I saw in my dream that these good com¬ 
 panions, when Christian was gone 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 ™ 
 
 P . . . o . Christian no ar- 
 
 ne nad no armour lor Ins back; and, tnour for his 
 
 therefore, thought that to turn the bdck ‘ 
 back to him might give him the greater advantage, 
 with ease to pierce him with his darts." Therefore 
 he resolved to venture and stand his Christian’s re¬ 
 ground; for, thought he, had I no approach^ 
 more in mine eye than the saving of Apollyon. 
 my life, it would be the best way to stand. 
 
 So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now 
 the monster was hideous to behold; he was clothed 
 with scales, like a fish (and they are his pride), 
 he had wings like a dragon, feet like a bear, and 
 out of his belly came fire and smoke, and his 
 mouth was as the mouth of a lion. 3 When he 
 was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a 
 disdainful countenance, and thus began to question 
 with him. 
 
 Apol. Whence come you ? and whither are you 
 bound ? 
 
 Ciir. I am come from the City of Destruction, 
 which is the place of all evil, and am going to the 
 City of Zion. 
 
 Afol. By this I perceive thou art one of my 
 subjects, for all that country is mine, ^ . 
 
 and I am the prince and god of it. twixt Christian 
 How is it, then, that thou hast run dndA P ol b° n - 
 away from thy king ? Were it not that I hope 
 thou mayest do me more service, I would strike 
 thee now, at one blow, to the ground. 
 
 Chr. I was 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 
 
 proof of Divine love to his soul. ‘ Whom the Lord loveth he 
 chasteneth.’—(E d.) ‘ A broken heart, 0 God, thou wilt not 
 
 despise.’ Has he given it to thee, my reader ? Then he has 
 given thee a cabinet to hold his grace in. True, it is painful 
 now, it is sorrowful, it bleeds, it sighs, it sobs. Well, very 
 well; all this is because he has a mind that thou mayest 
 rejoice in heaven.—(Bunvan’s Acceptable Sacrifice.) 
 
 2 * No armour for his back;’ to desist is inevitable ruin. 
 He sees no safety except in facing his enemy. Fear itself 
 creates additional courage, and iuduccs him to stand his ground. 
 —(Drayton.) 
 
 3 The description of Apollyon is terrible. This dreadful 
 imagery is collected from various parts of Scripture, where the 
 attributes of the most terrible animals are given him; the 
 attributes of leviathan, the dragon, the lion, and the bear; to 
 denote his strength, his pride, his rage, his courage, aud his 
 cruelty.—(Andronicus.) 
 
112 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 is death,’ Ro. vi. 23; therefore, when I was come to 
 years, I did as other considerate persons do, look 
 out, if, perhaps, I might mend myself. 
 
 Apol. There is no prince that will thus lightly 
 Apoiiyon’s flat- lose Ins subjects, 1 neither will I as 
 tery ‘ yet lose thee; but since thou com- 
 
 plainest of thy service and wages, be content to 
 go 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 ? 
 
 ArOL. Thou hast done in this according to the 
 
 Apoiiyonunder- P rov frb, ‘ Changed a bad for a worse 
 values ciuist’s but it is ordinary for those that have 
 
 professed themselves his servants, 
 after a while to give him the slip, and return again 
 to me. Bo thou so*too, and all shall be well. 
 
 Ciir. I have given him my faith, and sworn my 
 allegiance to him; how, then, can I go back from 
 this, and not be hanged as a traitor ? 
 
 Apol. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I 
 
 Apoiiyon pre- am Wlllin g to P aSS all > ^ HOW tllOU 
 
 tends to be wilt yet turn again and go back, 
 merciiul. ” o o 
 
 Cpir. What I promised thee was in 
 my nonage ; 2 and, besides, I count the Prince 
 under whose banner now I stand is able to absolve 
 
 me 
 
 yea, and to pardon also what I did as to 
 my compliance with thee; and besides, 0 thou 
 destroying Apoiiyon! to speak truth, I like his 
 service, his wages, his servants, his government, 
 his company, and country, better than thine; and, 
 therefore, leave off to persuade me further; I am 
 his servant, and I will follow him. 
 
 Apol. Consider again, when thou art in cool 
 blood, what thou art like to meet with 
 in the way that thou goest. Thou 
 knowest that, for the most part, his 
 servants come to an ill end, be¬ 
 cause they are transgressors against 
 me and my ways. How many cf 
 them have been put to shameful deaths ! and, 
 besides, thou countest his service better than mine, 
 whereas he never came yet from the place where 
 he is to deliver any that served him out of their 
 hands; but as for me, how many times, as all the 
 
 Apoiiyon pleads 
 tlie grievous 
 ends of Chris¬ 
 tians, to dis¬ 
 suade. Chris¬ 
 tian from per¬ 
 sisting in Ins 
 way. 
 
 1 Ill our days, when emigration is so encouraged by the 
 state, it may be difficult for some youthful readers to under¬ 
 stand this argument of Apoiiyon’s. In Bunyan’s time, every 
 subject was deemed to be Crown property, and no one darcil 
 depart the realm without a license. Thus, when Cromwell and 
 his heroes had hired ships, and were ready to start for America, 
 Charles I. providentially detained them, to work out the great 
 Revolution.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Promises or vows, whether made by us or by others on 
 our behalf, before we possessed powers of reason or reflection, 
 cannot be binding. The confirmation or rejection of all vows 
 made by or for us in our nonage, should, on arriving at years, 
 of discretion, be our deliberate choice, for we must recollect 
 that no personal dedication can be acceptable to God unless it 
 is the result of solemn inquiry.— Ed. 
 
 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 the end; and as for the ill end 
 thou sayest they come to, that is most glorious in 
 their account; for, for present deliverance, they 
 do not much expect it, for they stay for their 
 glory, and then they shall have it, when their 
 Prince comes in his and the glory of the angels. 
 
 Apol. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy 
 service to him ; and how dost thou think to receive 
 wages of him ? 
 
 Ciir. Wherein, 0 Apoiiyon! have I been 
 unfaithful to him ? 
 
 Apol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when 
 thou wast almost choked in the Grulf Apoiiyon pleads 
 of Despond; thou didst attempt wrong S m * 
 
 ways to be rid of thy burden, whereas against him. 
 thou shouldest have stayed till thy Prince had 
 taken it off; thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy 
 choice thing; thou wast, also, almost persuaded 
 to go back, at the sight of the lions; and when 
 thou talkest of thy journey, and of what thou hast 
 heard and seen, thou art inwardly desirous of 
 vain-glory in all that thou sayest or doest. 3 
 
 Chr. All this is true, and much more which 
 thou has left out; but the Prince, whom I serve 
 and honour, is merciful, and ready to forgive; but, 
 besides, these infirmities possessed me in thy 
 country, for there I sucked them in; and I have 
 groaned under them, been sorry for them, and 
 have obtained pardon of my Prince. 4 
 
 3 Mark the subtlety of this gradation in temptation. The 
 profits of the world and pleasures of sin are held out as allure¬ 
 ments. The apostasy of others suggested. The difficulties, 
 dangers, and sufferings of the Lord’s people, are contrasted 
 with the prosperity of sinners. The recollections of our sins 
 and backslidings, uuder a profession of religion. The supposi¬ 
 tion that all our profession is founded in pride and vain-glory. 
 All backed by our own consciences; as if Apoiiyon strad¬ 
 dled quite across the way, and stopped us from going on.— 
 (Andronicus.) 
 
 4 This dialogue is given, in different words, in the Jerusalem 
 Sinner Saved, vol. i. pp. 73 80. Satan is loath to part with a 
 great sinner. What, my true servant, quoth he, my old 
 servant, wilt thou forsake me now? Having so often sold 
 thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now ? 
 Thou horrible wretch, dost not know that thou hast sinned 
 thyself beyond the reach of grace, and dost thou think to find 
 mercy now ? Art not thou a murderer, a thief, a harlot, a 
 witch, a sinner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for 
 mercy now ? Dost thou think that Christ will foul his fingers 
 with thee ? It is enough to make angels blush, saith Satan, 
 to see so vile a one knock at heaven’s gates for mercy, and 
 wilt thou be so abominably bold to do it ? Thus Satan dealt 
 with me, says the great sinner, when at first 1 came to Jesus 
 Christ. And what did you reply ? saith the tempted. Why, 
 I granted the whole charge to be true, says the other. And 
 what, did you despair, or how? No, saith he, I said, I am 
 Magdalene, I am Zaecheus, I am the thief, I am the harlot, I 
 am the publican, I am the prodigal, and one of Christ’s mur- 
 
! 
 
 AIPOILLY© 
 
 
 
 ElacMe l: Son, GlasgowEdmbirtfh tLondon 
 
TfIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 113 
 
 Afol. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous 
 Apoiivon in a ra S n > sa J in g> 1 am an enemy to this 
 cimstiln Up ° U ^ iance ’ ^ ^ iate his person, his laws, 
 and people; I am come out on pur¬ 
 pose to withstand thee. 
 
 Chr. Apollyon, beware what you do; for I am 
 in the king’s highway, the way of holiness,- there¬ 
 fore take heed to yourself. 
 
 AroL. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the 
 whole breadth of the way, and said, I am void of 
 fear in this matter: prepare thyself to die; for I 
 swear by my infernal den, that thou shalt go no 
 further; here will I spill thy soul. 
 
 And with that he threw a flaming dart at his 
 breast ; l but Christian had a shield in his hand, 
 with which he caught it, and so prevented the 
 danger of that. 
 
 Then did Christian draw; for he saw it was 
 time to bestir him: and Apollyon as fast made at 
 him, throwing darts as thick as hail; by the which, 
 notwithstanding all that Christian could do to 
 avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his 
 head, his hand, and foot. This made 
 Christian give a little back ; Apollyon, 
 therefore, followed his work amain, 
 Christian again took courage, and resisted as 
 
 Christian 
 wounded in his 
 understanding, 
 faith, and con¬ 
 versation. 
 
 and 
 
 manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted 
 for above half a day, even till Christian was almost 
 quite spent; for you must know, that Christian, 
 by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker 
 and weaker. 
 
 Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began 
 Apollyon cast- to gather up close to Christian, and 
 the ground the wrestling with him, gave him a dread- 
 cimstian. f u l f a ]}. an( j w ith that, Christian’s 
 sword flew out of his band. Then said Apollyon, 
 I am sure of thee now. 2 * And with that he had 
 almost pressed him to death; so that Christian 
 began to despair of life: but as God would have 
 it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, 
 thereby to make a full end of this good man, 
 
 derers—yea, worse than any of these ; and yet God was so far 
 off from rejecting of me, as I found afterwards, that there was 
 music and dancing in his house for me, and for joy that I was 
 come home unto him. When Satan charged Luther with a 
 long list of crimes, he replied, This is all true; hut write 
 another line at the bottom, ‘The blood of Jesus Christ his 
 Son cleanscth us from all sin/— (Ed). 
 
 1 The devil is that great and dogged leviathan, that ‘ spread- 
 eth sharp pointed things upon the mire/ Job xl. 30. For be 
 the spreading nature of our corruptions never so broad, he 
 will find sharp pointed things enough to stick in the mire of 
 them for our affliction ; they are called fiery darts , and he has 
 abundance of them with which he can and will sorely prick 
 and wound our spirits.—(Bunyan on Christ’s Love, vol. ii. 
 p. 65.) 
 
 2 W hen infidel thoughts prevail, so that doubts of the truth 
 of Scripture take hold of the mind, the sword of the Spirit 
 flies out of the hand. Unarmed before a ferocious enemy, it 
 was an awful moment; but God revives his faith in the 
 Divine Word, he recovers his sword, and gives his enemy a 
 deadly plunge—I shall rise.—(Drayton.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his 
 swoid, and caught it, saying, ‘llejoice not against 
 me, 0 mine enemy: when I fall, I ^ . 
 
 in . , . . , Christian’s 
 
 snail arise, in. vii. 8; and with that victory over 
 
 gave him a deadly thrust, which made ApoUyo,u 
 him give back, as one that had received his mortal 
 wound. Christian perceiving that, made at him 
 again, saying, ‘ Nay, in all these tilings we are 
 more than conquerors, through him that loved us.’ 
 Ro. viii. 37 . And with that Apollyon spread forth 
 his dragon’s wings, and sped him away, that Chris¬ 
 tian for a season 0 saw him no more. 4 Ja. iv. 7 . 
 
 In this combat no man can imagine, unless he 
 had seen and heard as I did, what a brief relation 
 yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon J f y ^"cta- 
 made all the time of the fi^lit—lie tor - 
 spake like a dragon; and, on the other side, what 
 sighs and groans burst from Christian’s heart. I 
 never saw him all the while give so much as one 
 pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded 
 Apollyon with his two-edged sword; then, indeed, 
 he did smile, and look upward; but it was the 
 dreadfulest sight that ever I saw. 5 
 
 So "when the battle was over, Christian said, 
 
 ‘ I will here give thanks to him that . ,. 
 delivered me out of the mouth of the God thanks tor 
 lion, to him that did help me against dcIi ' erance - 
 Apollyon.’ And so he did, saying— 
 
 8 ‘ For a season/ is only found in the first edition. These 
 
 words may have been omitted, in Bunyan’s subsequent edi¬ 
 tions, by a typographical error, or have been struck out by 
 
 him. My impression is, that they were left out by the printer 
 in error; because, in the Second Part, when the pilgrims pass 
 the spot and talk of the battle, we are told that ‘ when Apoll¬ 
 yon was beat, he made his retreat to the next valley/ And 
 there poor Christian was awfully beset with him again.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 You will find, from the perusal of Bunyan’s own spiritual 
 life, that he has here brought together, in the assault of Apoll¬ 
 yon upon Christian, many of the most grievous temptations 
 with which his own soul was beset, as also, in Christian’s an¬ 
 swers against them, the very method of defence which he him¬ 
 self was taught by Divine grace in the midst of the conflict. 
 It is here condensed into a narrow and vivid scene, but it 
 extended over years of Bunyan’s life; and the wisdom that is 
 in it, and the points of experience illustrated, were the fruit 
 of many months of painfuluess, danger, and desperate struggle 
 with the adversary, which he had to go tlmough.-—(Cheever.) 
 
 0 The literal history of this terrific conflict may be found in 
 Banyan’s experience recorded in Grace Abounding, Nos. 131 
 —173, when he recovered his sword, and put his enemy to 
 flight. He describes his agonies in the combat as if he was 
 being racked upon the wheel, and states that it lasted for 
 about a year. Floods of blasphemies were poured in upon 
 him, but he was saved from utter despair, because they were 
 loathsome to him. Dr. Cheever eloquently says, ‘ What made 
 the fight a thousand times worse for poor Christian was, that 
 many of these hellish darts were tipped, by Apollyon’s malig¬ 
 nant ingenuity, with sentences from Scripture;’ so that Chris¬ 
 tian thought the Bible was against him. One of these fiery 
 darts penetrated his soul with the awful words, * no place for 
 repentance;’ and another with, ‘ hath never forgiveness/ The 
 recovery of his sword was by a heavenly suggestion that he 
 did not ‘refuse him that speaketh/ new vigour was com¬ 
 municated. ‘ When I fall, 1 shall arise/ was a home-thrust 
 at Satan; who left him, richly to enjoy the consolations of the 
 gospel after this dreadful battle.— (Ed.) 
 
 15 
 
114 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Great Beelzebub, tbe captain of this fiend, 
 
 Design’d my ruin; therefore to this end 
 He sent him harness’d out; and he with rage, 
 
 That hellish was, did fiercely me engage. 
 
 But blessed Michael helped me, and I, 
 
 By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly. 
 
 Therefore to him let me give lasting praise, 
 
 And thank and bless his holy name always. 
 
 Then there came to him a hand, with some of 
 
 Chr. Why? what's the matter? said Christian. 
 Men. Matter! said they; we were going that 
 I way as you are going, and went as far as we durst; 
 and indeed we were almost past coming hack; for 
 had we emne a little further, we had not been here 
 to bring the news to thee. 
 
 Ciir. But what have you met with ? said Christian. 
 Men. Why, we were almost in the Valley of 
 
 the leaves of the tree of life, the which Christian the Shadow of Death; hut that, by good hap, we 
 took, and applied to the wounds that he had looked before us, and saw the danger before we 
 
 received in the battle, and was healed immediately. 1 
 lie also sat down in that place to eat bread, and 
 to drink of the bottle that was given him a little 
 
 Christian goes before5 80 being refreshed, he ad- 
 on lus journey dressed himself to his journey, with 
 
 came to it. Ps. xliv. 19 ; cvii. 10. 
 
 Ciir. But what have vou seen ? said Christian. 
 Men. Seen ! Why, the valley itself, which is 
 as dark as pitch; we also saw there the hobgob¬ 
 lins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit; we heard also 
 in that Valley a continual howling and yelling, as 
 said, I know not but some other enemy I of a people under unutterable misery, who there 
 may be at hand. But he met with no other affront I sat bound in affliction and irons ; and over that 
 
 ** _ _ I TT 1 11 _1 _ _ - a I mi /-] n /-v+ A Til A 1 AVI 
 
 with his sword , . , , . . . . i r l 
 
 drawn in his his sword drawn m his hand; tor he 
 hand 
 
 from Apollyon quite through this valley. 
 
 Valley hangs the discouraging clouds of confusion. 
 
 Now, at the end of this valley, was another, Death also doth always spread his wings over it. 
 
 The Valiev of Called tlie Valle J ° f tlie Shadow ° f In a WOrd ’ 1S eVei T wWt drea(lful > bein S Utterl J 
 the Shadow of Death, and Christian must needs go without order. Job m. 5; x. 26 . 
 
 1)Latli - through it, because the way to the Chr. Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, 
 
 Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now by what you have said, but that this is my way to 
 this valley is a very solitary place. The prophet* the desired haven. 0 Je. u. 6 . 
 
 Jeremiah thus describes it: ‘A wilderness, a land Men. Be it thy way; we will not choose it for 
 of deserts, and of pits, a land of drought, and of ours. So they parted, and Christian went on his 
 the shadow of death, a land that no man’ (but a way, but still with his sword arawn in his hand, 
 Christian) ‘passed through, and where no man for fear lest he should be assaulted. 
 
 dwelt.’ Je. ii. 6. 
 
 Now here Christian was worse put to it than in 
 his fight with Apollyon; as by the sequel you 
 shall see. 2 
 
 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 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that when Christian miserably perished. * * 3 4 Ps. lxix. if, is. Again, behold, 
 The children of was got to the borders of the Shadow on the left hand, there was a very dangerous quag, 
 the spies go hack. 0 f Death, there met him two men, into which, if even a good man falls, he can find 
 children of them that brought up an evil report of uo bottom for his foot to stand on. Into that quag 
 the good land, Nu. xiii., making haste to go back; to I king David once did iall, and had no doubt therein 
 
 been smothered, had not He that is able plucked 
 
 him out. 
 
 The pathway was here also exceeding narrow, 
 and therefore good Christian was the more put to 
 it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the 
 
 ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over 
 into the mire on the other; also when he sought 
 to escape the mire, without great carefulness he 
 
 would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he 
 went on, and 1 heard him here sigh bitterly; for 
 besides the dangers mentioned above, the path¬ 
 way was here so dark, that ofttimes, when he lift 
 
 3 ‘ Desired heaven,’ in some of Banyan’s editions.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 The ditch on the right hand is error in principle, into 
 which the blind, as to spiritual truth, fall. The ditch on the 
 left hand means outward sin and wickedness, which many fail 
 into. Both are alike dangerous to pilgrims: but the Lord 
 ‘ will keep the feet of his saints.’ 1 Sa. ii. 9. — (Mason.) 
 Dr. Dodd considers that by the deep ditch is intended ‘ pre¬ 
 sumptuous hopes,’ and the no less dangerous quag to be 
 * despairing fears.’— (Ed.) 
 
 whom Christian spake as follows:— 
 
 Chr. Whither are you going ? 
 
 Men. They said, Back! back! and we would 
 have you to do so too, if either life or peace is 
 prized by you. 
 
 1 By ‘ leaves ’ here (Rev. xxii. 2), we are to understand the 
 blessed and precious promises, consolations, and encourage¬ 
 ments, that, by virtue of Christ, we find everywhere growing 
 on the new covenant, which will be handed freely to the 
 wounded conscience that is tossed on the reckless waves of doubt 
 and unbelief. Christ’s leaves are better than Adam’s aprons, 
 lie sent his Word, and healed them.—(Bunyan’s Holy City.) 
 
 2 However terrible these conflicts are, they are what every 
 
 Christian pilgrim has to encounter that is determined to win 
 heaven. Sin and death, reprobates and demons, are against 
 him. The Almighty, all good angels and men, is for him. 
 Eternal life is the reward. Be not discouraged, young Chris¬ 
 tian ! ‘ If God he for us, who can he against us ?’ We shall 
 
 come off more than conquerors, through him that hath loved 
 us. Equal to our day so shall be our strength. The enemies 
 had a special check from our Lord, while Mr. Rearing passed 
 through. 
 
 * Though death and hell obstruct tlie way 
 The meanest saint shall win the day.’-— (Ed.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 115 
 
 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 
 mouth of hell to be, and it stood also hard by 
 the way-side. Now, thought Christian, what shall 
 I do ? And ever and anon the flame and smoke 
 would come out in such abundance, with sparks 
 and hideous noises (things that cared not for 
 Christian’s sword, as did Apollyon before), that 
 he was forced to put up his sword, and betake 
 himself to another weapon, called All-prayer. E P h. 
 vi. is. So he cried in my hearing, ‘ 0 Lord, I 
 beseech thee, deliver my soul! ’ Ps. cxvi. 4 . Thus he 
 went on a great while, yet still the flames would 
 be reaching towards him. 1 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 
 flends coming forward to meet him, he stopped 
 
 Christian put to an( * began to niuse what he had best to 
 
 a stand, but for do. Sometimes he had half a thought 
 
 a while. „ . 
 
 to go back; then again he thought 
 he might be half way through the valley; he 
 remembered also how he had already vanquished 
 many a danger, and that the danger of going 
 back might be much more than for to go forward ; 
 so he resolved to go on. Yet the fiends seemed to 
 come nearer and nearer; but when they were come 
 even almost at him, he cried out with a most vehe¬ 
 ment voice, ‘ I will walk in the strength of the 
 Lord Godso 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 be- 
 Christian made hind him, and Stept Up softly to him, 
 
 and > Whisperingly, suggested many 
 
 imes, when it grievous blasphemies to him-, which he 
 was Satan that ., . , , , . „ 
 
 suggested them verily thought had proceeded from his 
 
 into his mind. own m hid. This put Christian more 
 
 to it than anything that he met with before; even 
 
 to think that he should now blaspheme him that he 
 
 loved so much before; yet, if he could have helped 
 
 it, he would not have done it ; but he had not the 
 
 discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from 
 
 whence these blasphemies came. 2 
 
 1 The sight of an immortal soul in peril of its eternal in¬ 
 terests, beset with enemies, engaged in a desperate conflict, 
 with hell opening her mouth before, and fiends and tempta¬ 
 tions pressing alter, is a sublime and awful spectacle. Man 
 cannot aid him; all his help is in God only.— (Cheever.) 
 
 And as for the secrets of Satan, such as are suggestions 
 to question the being of God, the truth of his Word, and to be 
 annoyed with devilish blasphemies, none are more acquainted 
 w ith these than the biggest sinners at their conversion; wherc- 
 
 When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate 
 condition some considerable time, ho thought ho 
 heard the voice of a man, as going before him, 
 saying, ‘ Though I walk through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art 
 with me.’ Ps. xxiii. 4 . 3 4 
 
 Then he was glad, and that for these reasons: 
 
 First , Because he gathered from thence, that 
 some who feared God, were in this valley as well 
 as himself. 
 
 Secondly, For that he perceived God was with 
 them, though in that dark and dismal state; and 
 why not, thought he, with me? though, by reason 
 of the impediment that attends this place, I cannot 
 perceive it. Job ix. 11 . 
 
 Thirdly, For that he hoped, could he overtake 
 them, to have company by and by. So he went 
 on, and called to him that was before ; but he knew 
 not what to answer; for that he also thought him- 
 
 self to be alone. And by and by the Christian glad at 
 day broke ; then said Christian, He break of day. 
 
 hath turned ‘ the shadow of death into the morn¬ 
 ing. ’ Am. v. 8. 1 
 
 Now morning being come, he looked back, not 
 out of desire to return, but to see, by the light of 
 the day, what hazards he had gone through in the 
 dark. So he saw more perfectly the ditch that 
 was on the one hand, and the quag that was on 
 the other; also how narrow the way was which led 
 betwixt them both; also now he saw the hobgob¬ 
 lins, and satyrs, and dragons of the pit, but all 
 afar off (for after break of day, they came not 
 nigh); yet they were discovered to him, according 
 to that which is written, ‘ He discovereth deep 
 things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light 
 the shadow of death. ’ Job xii. 22. 
 
 Now was Christian much affected with his de¬ 
 liverance 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 
 
 fore thus also they are prepared to be helps in the church to 
 relieve and comfort others.— {Jerusalem. Sinner Saved, vol. i. 
 p. 80.) See also a very interesting debate upon this subject 
 in Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ, vol. i. p. 250. O, 
 no one knows the terrors of these days but myself.— {Grace 
 Abounding, Nos. 100—102.) Satan and his angels trouble 
 his head with their stinking breath. How many strange, 
 hideous, and amazing blasphemies have some, that are coming 
 to Christ, had injected upon their spirits against him. — 
 
 {Christ a Complete Saviour, vol. i. p. 209.) He brought me 
 up also out of a horrible pit; a pit of noise of devils, and of 
 my heart answering them with distrust and fear.— {Saints' 
 Knowledge of Christ's Level) 
 
 3 The experience of other saints is very encouraging; for 
 the soul finds that others have gone before him in dreadful, 
 dark, and dreary paths.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 To walk in darkness, and not be distressed for it, argues 
 stupidity of the soul. To have the light of God’s countenance 
 shine upon us, and not to rejoice and be thankful for it, is 
 impossible.— (Mason.) 
 
116 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 was another mercy to Christian ; for you must 
 note, that though the first part of the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet this second 
 
 The second part part which he was yet to go, was, if 
 of tills valley possible, far more dangerous: for irom 
 
 ous. ° the place where he now stood, even to 
 the end of the valley, the way was all along set so 
 full of snares, traps, gins, and nets here, and so 
 full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings down 
 there, that had it now been dark, as it was when 
 he came the first part of the way, had he had a 
 thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away, 
 but, as I said, just now the sun was rising, llien 
 said he, ‘ His candle shinetli upon my head, and 
 by his light I walk through darkness.’ Jobxxix. 3. 
 
 In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the 
 vallev. 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; by whose power and tyranny the men 
 whose bones, blood, ashes, Ac., lay tlieie, veie 
 cruelly put to death. * * 3 But by this place Christian 
 went without much danger, whereat I somewhat 
 wondered; but I have learnt since, that PAGAN 
 has been dead many a day; and as for the other, 
 though he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and 
 also of the many shrewd brushes that he met with 
 in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff in 
 his joints, that he can now do little more than sit 
 in his cave’s mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they 
 go by, and biting his nails because lie cannot come 
 at them. 4 
 
 1 I would not be too confident, but I apprehend that by 
 this second part of the valley we are taught that believers are 
 not most in danger when under the deepest distress; that the 
 snares and devices of the enemy are so many and various, 
 through the several stages of our pilgrimage, as to baffle all 
 description; and that all the emblems of these valleys could 
 not represent the thousandth part of them. W ere it not that 
 the Lord guides his people by the light of his Word and 
 Spirit, they never could possibly escape them. (Scott.) 
 
 2 The wicked spirits have made and laid for us snares, pits, 
 holes, and what not, if peradventure by something we may be 
 destroyed. Yea, and we should most certainly be so, were it 
 not for the rock that is higher than they.—(Bunyan’s Saints’ 
 Knoivledge of Christ’s Love, vol. ii. p. 8.) 
 
 3 Alas, my dear country ! would to God it could not be said 
 to thee, since the departure of paganism and popery, * The 
 blood of the poor innocents is found in thy skirts, not by a 
 secret search, but upon thy kings, princes, priests, and pro¬ 
 phets.’ Je. ii. 84, 26. Let us draw a veil over the infamy of 
 Protestant persecution, and bless Jehovah, who has 
 broken the arrow and the bow.—(Andronicus.) It may be 
 questioned whether popery may not yet so far recover its 
 vigour as to make one more alarming struggle against vital 
 Christianity, before that Man of Sin be finally destroyed. 
 Our author, however, has described no other persecution than 
 what Protestants, in his time, carried on against one another 
 with very great alacrity.—(Scott.) 
 
 4 The quaint and pithy point of this passage stamps it as 
 one of Bunyan’s most felicitous descriptions. We who live in 
 
 So I saw that Christian went on his way; yet, at 
 the sight of the Old Man that sat in the mouth of 
 the cave, he could not tell what to think, especially 
 because he spake to him, though he could not go 
 after him ; saying, ‘ You will never mend, till more 
 of you be burned.’ But he held his peace, and sec 
 a good face on it, and so went by and catcked no 
 hurt. 5 Then sang Christian, 
 
 0 world of wonders! (I can say no less) 
 
 That I should be preserv’d in that distress 
 That I have met with here! 0 blessed be 
 
 That hand that from it hath deliver’d me! 
 
 Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin. 
 
 Did compass me, while I this vale was in: 
 
 Yea, snares and pits, and traps, and nets, did lie 
 My path about, that worthless, silly I 
 Might have been catch’d, entangled, and cast down; 
 But since I live, let Jesus wear the crown. 
 
 Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to 
 a little ascent, which was cast up on purpose, that 
 pilgrims might see before them. Up there, there¬ 
 fore, Christian went; and looking forward, he saw 
 Faithful before him, upon his journey. Then said 
 Christian aloud, ‘Ho! ho! Soho! 3tay, and I will 
 be your companion.’ 6 At that, Faithful looked be- 
 
 a later age may, indeed, suspect that he has somewhat ante¬ 
 dated the death of Pagan, and the impotence of Pope; but his 
 picture of their cave and its memorials, his delineation of the 
 
 survivor of this fearful pair, rank among those master-touches 
 
 which have won such lasting honour for his genius.—(Bernard 
 
 Barton.) 
 
 5 Christian having passed the gloomy whirlwind of tempta¬ 
 tion to despair, now walks in the light of the Sun of Righte¬ 
 ousness, through the second part of the valley. There he 
 encounters the persecution of the state church. Act after act 
 of Parliament had been passed— full of atrocious penalties, 
 imprisonments, transportation, and hanging to deter poor 
 pilgrims from the way to Zion. ‘ The way was full of snares, 
 traps, gins, nets, pitfalls, and deep holes. Had the darkness 
 of mental anguish been added to these dangers, he must have 
 perished. The butcheries of Jefferies strewed the way with 
 blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of pilgrims. Pope 
 reared his ugly head, aud growled out, ‘ More of you must be 
 burned.’ The desolating tyranny of the church was curbed by 
 the King’s turning papist, which paved the way for the glorious 
 Revolution of 1688. It appears from the Grace Abounding, 
 that to the time of Bunyan’s imprisonment for preaching the 
 gospel, he was involved frequently in deeply-distressing spiri¬ 
 tual darkness; but, from his entering the prison, he walked in 
 the light of God’s countenance to his dying day.—(E d.) 
 
 6 We are now to be introduced to a new pilgrim, and 
 Christian is no more to go on his way alone. The sweet 
 Christian communion depicted in this book forms one of the 
 most delightful features in it, and Faithful and Hopeful are 
 both of them portraits that stand out in as firm relief as that 
 of Christian himself. Faithful is the Martyr Pilgrim, who 
 goes in a chariot of fire to heaven, and leaves Christian alone; 
 Hopeful springs, as it were, out of Faithful’s ashes, and sup¬ 
 plies his piace all along the remainder of the pilgrimage. The 
 communion between these loving Christians, their sympathy 
 and share in each other’s distresses, their mutual counsels and 
 encouragements, temptations and dangers, experience aud dis¬ 
 cipline, their united joys and sorrows, and their very passing 
 of the river of death together, form the sweetest of all examples 
 of the true fellowship of saints, united to the same Saviour, 
 made to drink into the same Spirit, baptized with the same 
 sufferings, partakers of the same consolations, crowned with 
 the same crown of life, entering together upon glory everlast- 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 liind him; to whom Christian cried again, 4 Stay, 
 stay, till I come up to you. ’ But Faithful answered, 
 ‘ N°> I am upon my life, and the avenger of blood 
 is behind me.’ 
 
 At this, Christian was somewhat moved, and 
 Christian over- putting to all his strength, he quickly 
 takes Faithful. got up with Faithful, and did also 
 
 overrun him ; so the last was first. Then did 
 Christian vain-gloriously smile, because he had 
 gotten the start of his brother; * 1 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. 
 
 I hen I saw in my dream, they went very lovingly 
 Christian’s fall on together, and had sweet discourse 
 and he*goiov- a ^ things that had happened to 
 ‘ugly together, them in their pilgrimage; and thus 
 Christian began. 
 
 Chr. My honoured and well-beloved brother, 
 Faithful, I am glad that I have overtaken you; 
 and that God has so tempered our spirits, that 
 we can walk as companions in this so pleasant a 
 path. 
 
 Faith. I had thought, dear friend, to have had 
 } our company quite from our town; but you did 
 get the start of me, wherefore I was forced to come 
 thus much of the way alone. 
 
 Chr. How long did you stay in the City of 
 Destruction, before you set out after me on your 
 pilgrimage ? 
 
 Faith. Till I could stay no longer; for there 
 Their talk about was great talk presently after you were 
 
 from whence S one out > ^ at our city would, in short 
 they came. time, with fire from heaven, be burned 
 down to the ground. 
 
 CnR. What! did your neighbours talk so ? 
 
 (Cheever.) The author has displayed great skill in in¬ 
 troducing a companion to his Pilgrim in this place. Thus far 
 the personal adventures of Christiau had been of the most 
 extraordinary kind, and sufficient of themselves to exercise the 
 reader s sympathies for him; but these feelings would have 
 languished from weariness, however intensely the sequel might 
 have been wrought, had attention been claimed for a solitary 
 wanderer to the end of the journey. Here then the history, 
 which had probably reached its climax in the preceding scenes, 
 revives, by taking a new form, and exciting a fresh interest, 
 rather doubled thau divided, though two have thenceforward 
 to share it instead of one. Besides, the individual experience 
 of one man, however varied, would not have been sufficient to 
 exemplify all the most useful lessons of the gospel, unless the 
 trials of many persons, of different age, sex, and disposition, 
 were interwoven. The instance at hand will illustrate this 
 point.—(Montgomery.) 
 
 1 Ah, what a smile was thatl How much sin was there in 
 
 it, instead of humble spiritual gratitude, and joy. Now see 
 
 how he that exalteth himself shall be abased, and how surely, 
 
 along with spiritual pride, comes carelessness, false security, 
 and a grievous fall.—(Cheever.) The very person’s hand we 
 need to help us, whom we thought we had exceeded.—(Mason.) 
 Mhen a consciousness of superiority to other Christians leads 
 to vain glory, a tall will be the consequence; but while it 
 excites compassion, it also cements Christian friendship.— 
 (Ivimey.) 
 
 117 
 
 Faith. \es, it was for a while in everybody’s 
 mouth. J 
 
 Ciir. 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 brim¬ 
 stone from above; and therefore I have made my 
 escape. 
 
 Ciir. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed 
 | you till he came at the Slough of Despond, where, 
 as some said, he fell in; but he would not be 
 known to have so done; but I am sure he was 
 soundly bedabbled with that kind of dirt. 
 
 Ciir. And what said the neighbours to him ? 
 
 Faith. He hath, since his going back, been 
 had greatly in derision, and that among How Pliable was 
 all sorts of people; some do mock and STke -°ot 
 despise him; and scarce will any set home - 
 him on work. He is now seven times worse than 
 if he had never gone out of the city. 2 * 
 
 Ciir. But why should they be so set against him, 
 since they also despise the way that he forsook ? 
 
 Faith. 0! 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 for¬ 
 saken the way. Je. xxix. is, id. 
 
 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. 
 
 Ciir. Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes 
 of that man; but now I fear he will perish in the 
 overthrow of the city; For ‘it is happened to him 
 according to the true proverb, The The dog and the 
 dog is turned to his own vomit again; sow - 
 and the sow that was washed, to her wallowing in 
 the mire.’ 2 Pe. ii. 22. 
 
 Faith. These are my fears of him too; but who 
 can hinder that which will be ? 
 
 Ciir. Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, 
 let us leave him, and talk of things that more im¬ 
 mediately concern ourselves. Tell me now, what 
 you have met with in the way as you came; for I 
 know you have met with some things, or else it 
 may be writ for a wonder. 
 
 Faith. I escaped the Slough that I perceived 
 
 2 Mr. Anything became a brisk man in the broil; but both 
 sides were against him, because he was true to none. He bad, 
 for bis malapertness, one of bis legs broken, and be that did it 
 wished it had been his neck.—( Holy War.) 
 
 I 
 
118 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 you fell into, and got up to the gate without that 
 
 Faithful assault- danger; only I met with one whose 
 ed by Wanton. name W as Wanton, who had like to 
 
 have done me a mischief. 
 
 Chr. It was well you escaped her net; Joseph 
 was hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as 
 you did; but it had like to have cost him his life. 
 
 Ge. xxxix. ii— 13 . But what did she do to you ? 
 
 Faitii. You cannot think, hut 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. 
 
 Ciir. Nay, she did not promise you the content 
 
 of a good conscience. 
 
 Faith. You know what l mean; all carnal and 
 fleshly content. 
 
 Ciir. Thank God you have escaped her; ‘ The 
 abhorred of the Lord shall fall into her ditch. 
 
 i 
 
 I’r. xxii. 14. 
 
 Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly 
 escape her or no. 
 
 Ciir. Why, I trow, 1 you did not consent to her 
 desires ? 
 
 Faith. No, not to defile myself; for I remem¬ 
 bered an old writing that I had seen, which said, 
 
 ‘ Her steps take hold on hell.’ Pr. v. 5. So I shut 
 mine eyes, because 1 would not ho bewitched with 
 her looks. Job xxxi. l Then she railed on me, and 
 I went my way. 2 
 
 Ciir. Did you meet with no other assault as you 
 came ? 
 
 Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill 
 called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who 
 , , asked me what I was, and whither 
 
 He is assaulted , . . . ,, , T 
 
 by Adam the bound. I told him that 1 am a 
 
 pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. 
 Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest 
 fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for 
 the wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked 
 him his name, and where he dwelt. He said his 
 name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the 
 town of Deceit. Epb. iv. 22 . I asked him then, what 
 was his work, and what the wages that he would 
 give. He told me, that his work was many de¬ 
 lights; and his wages, that I should he 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 asued if he had any 
 children. He said that he had hut three daughters; 
 
 1 ‘ I trow,’ I believe or imagine (Imp. Diet) —(Ed.) 
 
 2 If the experience of Christian is an exhibition of Banyan s 
 own feelings, the temptations of Madam Wanton are very pro¬ 
 perly laid in the way of Paithtul, and not of Christian. She 
 would have had no chance with the man who admired the wis¬ 
 dom of God in making him shy of women, who rarely carried 
 it pleasantly towards a woman, and who abhorred the common 
 salutation of women.—( Grace Abounding , No. 816.) Ed. 
 
 the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and 
 the Pride of Life, and that I should marry them 
 all 3 if I would. 1 Jn. ii. 16. Then I asked how long 
 time he would have me live with him ? And he 
 told me, As long as he lived himself. 
 
 Ciir. 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; hut 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. 4 So I hid him forbear to talk, for I 
 would not come near the door of his house. Then 
 he reviled me, and told me, that he would send 
 such a one after me, that should make my way 
 bitter to my soul. So I turned to go away from 
 him; but just as I turned myself to go thence, I 
 felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such 
 a deadly twitch hack, that I thought he had pulled 
 part of me after himself. This made me cry, 0 
 wretched man !’ Ro. vii. 24 . So I went on my way 
 up the hill. 
 
 Now when I had got about half way up, I looked 
 behind, and saw one coming after me, swift as 
 the wind; so he overtook me just about the place 
 where the settle stands. 
 
 Chr. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down 
 to rest me; but being overcome with sleep, I there 
 lost this roll out of my bosom 
 
 Faith. But, good brother, hear me out. So soon 
 as the man overtook me, he was but a word and 
 a blow, for down he knocked me, and laid me foi 
 dead. 5 6 But when I was a little come to myself 
 again, I asked him wherefore he served me so. 
 He said, because of my secret inclining to Adam 
 the First: and with that he struck me another 
 deadly blow on the breast, and heat me down 
 backward; so I lay at his foot as dead as before. 
 So, when I came to myself again, I cried him 
 mercy; but he said, I know not how to show 
 mercy; and with that knocked me down again.” 
 He had doubtless made an end of me, hut that one 
 came bv, and bid him forbear. 
 
 3 ‘All’ is omitted from every edition by Bunyan, except the 
 first; probably a typographical error. 
 
 4 An awful slavery! ‘None that go unto her return again, 
 neither take they hold of the paths of life.’ Pr. ii. 19 .—(Ed.) 
 
 5 That sinner who never had a threatening fiery visit from 
 Moses, is yet asleep in his sins, under the curse and wrath of 
 the law of God.—(C.C.V.G.) 
 
 6 As the law giveth no strength, nor life to keep it, so it 
 accepteth none of them that are under it. Sin and Bib, is for 
 ever its language. There is no middle way in the law. It 
 hath not ears to hear, nor heart to pity, its penitent ones. - 
 (Bunyan on Justification , vol. i. p. 316.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 119 
 
 CriR. Who was that that hid him forbear. 
 
 Faith. I did not know him at first, but as lie 
 went by, I perceived the holes in his hands, and 
 in his side; then I concluded that he was our 
 Lord. So I went up the hill. 
 
 Ciir. That man that overtook you was Moses. 
 The temper i of He spareth none, neither knoweth he 
 
 Moses. h 0 W t0 s p ow merC y t0 those t ] iat trans _ 
 
 gress his law. 
 
 Faith. 1 know it very well; it was not the first 
 time that he has met with me. It was he that 
 came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and 
 that told me he would burn my house over my 
 head, if I stayed there. 
 
 Ciir. But did you not see the house that stood 
 there on the top of the hill, on the side of which 
 Moses met you? 
 
 Faith. T es, 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. 
 
 Ciir. He told me indeed, that he saw you go 
 by, but I wish you had called at the house, for 
 they would have showed you so many rarities, 
 that you would scarce have forgot them to the 
 day of your death. But pray tell me, Did you 
 meet nobody in the Valley of Humility? 
 
 Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who 
 Faithful assault- would willingly have persuaded me to 
 tcnt. Jy ■ Uiscon ‘ S’° back again with him; his reason 
 was, for that the valley was altogether 
 without honour. He told me, moreover, that there 
 to go was the way to 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. 
 
 Chr. Well, and how did you answer him? 
 
 Faith. I told him that although all these that 
 Faithful’s answer be named might claim kindred of me, 
 tfsconkut. an d that rightly, for indeed they were 
 my relations according to the flesh, yet since I 
 became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, as I 
 also have rejected them; and therefore they were 
 to me now no more than if they had never been of 
 mv lineage. 
 
 I told him, moreover, that as to this valley he 
 had quite misrepresented the thing; ‘for before 
 honour is humility; and a haughty spirit before a 
 fall. iherefore, said I, I had rather go through 
 this valley to the honour that was so accounted 
 by the wisest, than choose that which he esteamed 
 most worthy our affections. 
 
 Ciir. Met you with nothing else in that valley? 
 
 1 The word ‘temper’ was altered, in the fourth and subse¬ 
 
 quent editions to ‘thunder.’—(E d.) 
 
 Faith. Yes, I met with Shame; but of all the 
 men that I met with in my pilgrimage, He is MsmlM 
 he, I think, bears the wrong name. witl1 Shame. 
 The others would be said nay, after a little argu¬ 
 mentation, and somewhat else; but this bold-faced 
 Shame would never have done. 1 2 
 
 Ciir. Why, what did he say to you? 
 
 Faith. What! why, he objected against religion 
 
 itself; he said it was a pitiful, low, sneakino- 
 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 wavs, 
 so as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty, 
 that the brave spirits of the times accustom them¬ 
 selves unto, would make him the ridicule of the 
 times. He objected also, that but few of the 
 mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my opinion, 
 l Co. l 26; iii. is. Fhi. iii. 7 , s; nor any of them neither, 
 Jn. vii. 48, before they were persuaded to be fools, 
 and to be of a voluntary fondness, to venture the 
 loss of all, for nobody knows what. He moreover 
 objected the base and low estate and condition of 
 those that were chiefly the pilgrims, of the times 
 in which they lived; also their ignorance, and 
 want of understanding in all natural science. 
 \ ea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about 
 a great many more things than here I relate; as, 
 that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning 
 under a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and 
 groaning home; that it was a shame to ask my 
 neighbour forgiveness for petty faults, or to make 
 restitution where I have taken from any. He said 
 also, that religion made a man grow strange to 
 the great, because of a few vices, which he called 
 by er names; and made him own and respect 
 the base, because of the same religious fraternity. 
 And is not this, said he, a shame ? 3 
 
 Ciir. 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.’ 
 
 Hie delineation of this character is a masterly grouping 
 together of the arguments used hy men of this world against 
 religion, in ridicule and contempt of it. Faithful’s account of 
 him, and of his arguments, is a piece of vigorous satire, full of 
 truth and life.—(Cheever.) 
 
 ° Nothing can be a stronger proof that we have lost the 
 image of God, than shame concerning the things of God. This 
 shame, joined to the fear of man, is a very powerful enemy to 
 God’s truths, Christ’s glory, and our soid’s comfort. Better 
 at once get out of our pain, by declaring boldly for Christ and 
 his cause, than stand shivering on the brink of profession, ever 
 dreading the loss of our good name and reputation: for Christ 
 says (awful words)Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of 
 my words, in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also 
 shall the Son of man he ashamed when he coineth in the glory 
 of his Father.’ Mar. viii. 38. It is one thing to he attacked 
 by shame, and another to be conquered by it.—(Mason.) 
 
 
120 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Lu. xvi. 15 . And I thought again, this Shame tells 
 me what men are; but it tells me nothing what 
 God, or the Word of God is. And I thought, more¬ 
 over, that at the day of doom, we shall not be 
 doomed to death or life, according to the hectoring 
 spirits of the world, but according to the wisdom 
 and law of the Highest. Therefore, thought I, 
 what God says is best, indeed is best, though all 
 the men in the world are against it. Seeing, then, 
 that God prefers his religion ; seeing God 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 sovereign Lord ? 
 How then shall I look him in the face at his com¬ 
 ing? Should I now be ashamed of his ways and 
 servants, how can I expect the blessing ? Mar. viii. 38. 
 But, indeed, this Shame was a bold villain ; I could 
 scarce shake him out of my company; yea, he would 
 be haunting of me, and continually whispering me 
 in the ear, w r itli some one or other of the infirmities 
 that attend religion ; but at last I told him it was 
 but in vain to attempt further in this business; for 
 those things that he disdained, in those did I see 
 most glory; and so at last I got past this impor¬ 
 tunate one. And when I had shaken him off, then 
 I began to sing— 
 
 The trials that those men do meet withal, 
 
 That are obedient to the heavenly call, 
 
 Are manifold, and suited to the flesh, 
 
 And come, and come, and come again afresh; 
 
 That now, or sometime else, we by them may 
 Be taken, overcome, and cast away. 
 
 0 let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims, then, 
 
 Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men. 
 
 Chr. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst witli 
 stand this villain so bravely; for of all, as thou 
 sayest, I think he has the wrong name; for he is 
 so bold as to follow us in the streets, and to attempt 
 to put us to shame before all men ; that is, to make 
 us ashamed of that which is good; but if he was 
 not himself audacious, he would never attempt to 
 do as he does. But let us still resist him ; for not¬ 
 withstanding all his bravadoes, he promoteth the 
 fool, and none else. ‘ The wise shall inherit glory,’ 
 said Solomon, ‘ but shame shall be the promotion 
 of fools. ’ Pr. iii. 35. 
 
 Faitii. I think we must cry to him for help 
 against Shame, who would have us to be valiant 
 for the truth upon the earth. 
 
 Ciir. 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 . 1 
 
 Ciir. It was well for you. I am sure it fared 
 far otherwise with me; I had for a long season, as 
 soon almost as I entered into that valley, a dread¬ 
 ful combat with that foul fiend Apollyon; yea, I 
 thought verily he would have killed me, especially 
 when he got me down and crushed me under him, 
 as if he would have crushed me to pieces; for as 
 he threw me, my sword flew out of my hand; nay, 
 he told me he was sure of me ; but I cried to God, 
 and he heard me, and delivered me out of all my 
 troubles. Then I entered into the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half 
 the way through it. 2 3 I thought I should have been 
 killed there, over and over; but at last day broke, 
 and the sun rose, and I went through that which 
 was behind with far more ease and quiet. 
 
 Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went 
 on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, 
 saw a man whose name is Talkative, 0 walking at a 
 distance besides them ; for in this place, there was 
 room enough for them all to walk. He Talkative de- 
 was a tall man, and something more scribed, 
 comely at a distance than at hand. To this man 
 Faithful addressed himself in this manner. 
 
 Faith. Friend, whither away? Are you going 
 to the heavenly country? 
 
 1 Christian in a great measure escaped the peculiar tempta¬ 
 tions that assaulted Faithful, yet he sympathized with him; nor 
 
 did the latter deem the gloomy experiences of his brother 
 visionary or imaginative, though he had been exempted from 
 them. One man, from a complication of causes, is exposed to 
 temptations of which another is ignorant; and in this case he 
 needs much sympathy, which he seldom meets with; while 
 they who are severe on him are liable to be baffled in another 
 way, which, for want of coincidence in habit, temperature, and 
 situation, he is equally prone to disregard. Thus Christians 
 are often led reciprocally to censure, suspect, or dislike each 
 other, on those very grouuds which would render them useful 
 and encouraging counsellors and companions!—(Scott.) 
 
 2 Buuyan, in his Pilgrim’s Progress, places the Valley of 
 the Shadow' of Death, not where we should expect it, at the 
 end of Christian’s pilgrimage, but about the middle of it. 
 Those vdio have studied the history of Bunyan and his times 
 w'ill hardly wonder at this. It was then safer to commit 
 felony than to become a Dissenter. Indeed, a felon was far 
 surer of a fair trial than any Dissenting minister, after the 
 restoration of Charles II. This Bunyan found. Simply and 
 solely for preaching, he was condemned by Keeling to impri¬ 
 sonment. That was to be followed by banishment if he did 
 not conform, and, in the event of his return from banishment 
 without license from the King, the judge added, ‘ You must 
 stretch by the neck for it; I tell you plainly.’ Christian en¬ 
 dured, in the first portion of this dismal valley, great darkness 
 and distress of miud about his soul’s safety for eternity; and, 
 in the latter part of the valley, the dread of an ignominious, 
 and cruel, and sudden execution in the midst of his days—a 
 fear more appalling than the prospect of a natural death. This 
 he was enabled to bear, because he then enjoyed the light, the 
 presence, and the approbation of his God.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 The character now introduced under a most expressive 
 name, is an admirable portrait, drawn by a masterly hand, from 
 some striking original, but exactly resembling numbers in every 
 age and place, where the truths of the gospel are generally 
 known. Such men are more conspicuous than humble believers, 
 but their profession will not endure a strict investigation.— 
 (Scott.) Reader, be careful not to judge harshly, or despise a 
 real believer , who is blessed with fluency of utterance on Divine 
 subjects.—(E d.) 
 
 . 
 
1 
 
 TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 121 
 
 Talk. I am going to the same place. 
 
 1’AiTii. That is well; then I hope we may have 
 your good company. 
 
 Talk. With a very good will, will I he your 
 companion. 
 
 Faithful and Faith. Come on, then, and let us go 
 
 terdiscouree' to S etlier > and let us spend our time in 
 discoursing of things that are profitable. 
 
 Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is 
 vei T acceptable, with you, or with any other; and 
 I am glad that I have met with those that incline 
 Talkative’s dis- to so g° 0( l a w ork; for, to speak the 
 
 cwrse. bad dis * trutll » tIiere are tut few that care thus 
 to spend their time (as they are in 
 their travels), but choose much rather to be speak¬ 
 ing of things to no profit; and this hath been a 
 trouble to me. 
 
 Faith. 1 hat is indeed a thing to be lamented; 
 for what things so worthy of the use of the tongue 
 and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of 
 the God of heaven ? 
 
 Talk. I like you wonderful well, for your sayings 
 are full of conviction; and I will add, what thing 
 is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk 
 of the things of God? What things so pleasant 
 (that is, if a man hath any delight in things that 
 are wonderful) ? For instance, if a man doth de- 
 light to talk of the history or the mystery of things; 
 01 if a man doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, 
 oi signs, where shall he find things recorded so 
 delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy 
 Scripture ? 
 
 Faitii. That is true; but to be profited by such 
 things in our talk should be that which we design. 
 
 Talk. That is it that I said; for to talk of such 
 Talkative’s fine things is most profitable; for by so 
 discourse. doing, a man may get knowledge of 
 
 many things; as of the vanity of earthly things, 
 and the benefit of things above. Thus, in general, 
 but more particularly, by this, a man may learn the 
 necessity of the new birth ; the insufficiency of our 
 works; the need of Christ’s righteousness, &c. 
 Besides, by this a man may learn, by talk, what it 
 is to repent, to believe, to pray, to suffer, or the 
 like; by this also a man may learn what are the 
 great promises and consolations of the gospel, to 
 his own comfort. Further, by this a man may 
 learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, 
 and also to instruct the ignorant. * 1 
 
 Faith. All this is true, and glad am I to hear 
 these things from you. 
 
 As an outward profession, without a holy life, is no evidence 
 of religion, neither are excellent gifts any proof that the per¬ 
 sons who possess them are partakers of grace: so it is an awful 
 fact, that some have edified the church by their gifts, who 
 have themselves been destitute of the spirit of life.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 1 concluded, a little grace, a little love, a little of the true fear 
 of God, is better than all gifts .—(Grace Abounding.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Talk. Alas! the want of this is the cause why 
 so few understand the need of faith, and the neces¬ 
 sity of a work of grace in their soul, in order to 
 eternal life ; but ignorantly live in the works of the 
 law, by which a man can by no means obtain the 
 kingdom of heaven. 
 
 Faith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of 
 these is the gift of God; no man attaineth to them 
 by human industry, or only by the talk of them. 
 
 Talk. All this I know very well. For a man 
 can receive nothing, except it be given 0 brave Talka _ 
 him from heaven ; all is of grace, not tive - 
 of works. I could give you a hundred scriptures 
 for the confirmation of this. 
 
 Faith. Well, then, said Faithful, what is that 
 one thing that we shall at this time found our dis¬ 
 course upon ? 
 
 Talk. What you will. I will talk of things 
 heavenly, or things earthly; things 0 brave Talta- 
 moral, or things evangelical; things tive - 
 sacred, or things profane; things past, or things 
 to come; things foreign, or things at home ; things 
 more essential, or things circumstantial; provided 
 that all be done to our profit. 
 
 Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and 
 stepping to Christian (for he walked Faithful beguiled 
 all this while by himself), he said to Talkatlve - 
 him (but softly), What a brave companion have we 
 got! Surely this man will make a very excellent 
 pilgrim. 
 
 Ciir. At this Christian modestly smiled, and 
 said, This man, with whom you are so 
 
 •, , .. . , ~ Christian makes 
 
 taken, will beguile, with that tongue a discovery of 
 
 of his, twenty of them that know him ing lkdt Faithihi 
 
 120t. who he was. 
 
 Faith. Do you know him, then ? 
 
 Ciir. Know him! Yes, better than he knows 
 himself. 
 
 Faith. Pray, what is he ? 
 
 Chr. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our 
 town; I wonder that you should be a stranger to 
 him, only I consider that our town is large. 
 
 Faith. Whose son is he ? And whereabout 
 does he dwell? 
 
 Chr. He is the son of one Say-well; he dwelt 
 in Prating Row; and he is known of all that are 
 acquainted with him, by the name of Talkative in 
 Prating Row; and notwithstanding his fine tongue, 
 he is but a sorry fellow. 2 
 
 Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. 
 
 Chr. That is, to them who have not thorough 
 acquaintance with him; for he is best abroad; 
 
 2 The Pharisee goes on boldly, fears nothing, but trusteth 
 in himself that his state is good; he hath his mouth full of 
 many flue things, whereby he strokes himself over the head, and 
 calls himself one of God’s white boys, that, like the Prodigal’s 
 brother, never transgressed .—(Pharisee and Publican , vol. ii. 
 p. 215.) 
 
 16 
 
 I 
 
 rm 
 
 & 
 
 oj 
 
 /i 
 
 
122 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 near home, he is ugly enough. Your saying that 
 he is a pretty man, brings to my mind what I 
 have observed in the work of the painter, whose 
 pictures show best at a distance, but, very near, 
 more unpleasing. 
 
 Faith. But I am ready to think you do but jest, 
 because you smiled. 
 
 Ciir. God forbid that I should jest (although I 
 smiled) in this matter, or that I should accuse any 
 falsely! I will give you a further discovery of him. 
 This man is for any company, and for any talk; as 
 he talketh now with you, so will he talk when lie 
 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, 01 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. * 1 
 
 Chr. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remem¬ 
 ber the proverb, ‘ They say, and do not. Mat. xxiii. 3. 
 But the ‘kingdom of God is not in word, but in 
 
 Talkative talks, power. ’ i Co. iv. 20. He talketh of prayer, 
 but does not. 0 f re pentance, of faith, and of the new 
 
 birth ; but he knows but only to talk of them. 1 
 have been in his family, and have observed him 
 both at home and abroad; and I know what I say 
 . . of him is the truth. His house is as 
 
 His house is . ., /» 
 
 empty of re- empty of religion, as the white ot an 
 
 egg is of savour. There is there, 
 neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin ; yea, 
 the brute in his kind serves God far better than he. 
 He is a stain to He is the very stain, reproach, and 
 religion. shame of religion, to all that know 
 him; it can hardly have a good word in all that 
 end of the town where he dwells, through him. 
 Ro. ii. 24, 25. Thus say the common people that know 
 The proverb that him, A saint abroad, and a devil at 
 goes Of him. home. His poor family finds it so, he 
 is such a churl, such a railer at, and so unreason¬ 
 able with his servants, that they neither know how 
 
 1 Talkative seems to have been introduced on purpose that 
 the author might have a fair opportunity of stating his senti¬ 
 ments concerning the practical nature of evangelical religion, to 
 which numbers in his day were too inattentive; so that this 
 admired allegory has fully established the important distinction 
 between a dead and a living faith, on which the whole contro¬ 
 versy depends. —(Scott.) ‘ Though I speak with the tongues 
 of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am as sounding 
 brass or a tinkling cymbal.’ 1 Co. xiii. 1. Just thus it is with 
 him who has gifts, but wants grace. Shall I be proud, because 
 
 I am sounding brass. Is it so much to be a fiddle? Hath not 
 
 the least creature that hath life, more of God in it than these ? 
 —(Grace Abounding , No. 297-800.) Some professors are 
 pretty busy and ripe, able to hold you in a very large discourse 
 of the glorious gospel; but, if you ask them concerning heart 
 work, and its sweet influences and virtues on their souls and 
 consciences, they may answer, I find by preaching that I am 
 turned from my sins in a good measure, and have learned [in 
 tongue] to plead for the gospel. This is not far enough to prove 
 them under the covenant of grace.— [Law and Grace , vol. i. 
 p. 515.) 
 
 to do for, or speak to him. Men that have any 
 dealing’s with him, say, it is better to deal with a 
 Turk than with him; for fairer dealing Men shun to 
 they shall have at their hands. This deal wilh hm1 ' 
 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 
 findetli in any of them a foolish timorousness (for 
 so he calls the first appearance of a tender con¬ 
 science), he calls them fools, and blockheads, 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. 2 
 
 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 re¬ 
 ports 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, 1 
 might perhaps have thought of him as, at the fiist, 
 you did; yea, had he received this report at their 
 hands only that are enemies to religion, I should 
 have thought it had been a slander a lot that 
 often falls from bad men’s mouths upon good men’s 
 names and professions; but all these things, yea, 
 and a great many more as bad, of my own know¬ 
 ledge, 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 bod} ; for as the 
 body without the soul is but a dead The carcass of 
 carcass, so saying, if it be alone, is but . . religion, 
 a dead carcass also. The soul of religion is the 
 practical part: ‘Pure religion and undefiled,before 
 God and the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless 
 and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself 
 unspotted from the world. ’ Ja. i. 27 ; see ver. 22-26. This 
 Talkative is not aware of; he thinks that hearing 
 and saying will make a good Christian, and thus 
 he deceiveth his own soul. Hearing is but as the 
 sowing of the seed ; talking is not sufficient to prove 
 
 2 Read this, and tremble, ye whose profession lies only on 
 your tongue, but who never knew the love and grace of Christ 
 in your souls. O how do you trifle with the grace of God, 
 with precious Christ, and with the holy Word of truth! 0 
 what an awful account have you to give hereafter to a holy, 
 heart-searching God! Ye true pilgrims of Jesus, read this, and 
 give glory to your Lord, for saving you trom resting in barrel) 
 notions, and taking up with talking of truths; and that he has 
 given you to know the truth in its power, to embrace it in your 
 heart, and to live and walk under its constraining, sanctifying 
 influences. Mho made you to differ? (Mason.) 
 
 ___ 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 123 
 
 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. Mat. xiii., xxv. 
 It will not he 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 re¬ 
 gard nothing but fruit. Not that anything can 
 be accepted that is not of faith, but I speak this 
 to show you how insignificant the profession of 
 Talkative will be at that day. 
 
 Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, 
 by which he describeth the beast that is clean. 
 
 "nnca/oHi"* Lev ' Deut ‘ xiv ‘ 1S Slic h a one that 
 badness of parteth the hoof and cheweth the cud ; 
 Talkative. not that parteth the hoof only, or that 
 cheweth the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud, 
 but yet is unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. 
 And this truly resembleth Talkative, he cheweth 
 the cud, he seeketh knowledge, he cheweth upon 
 the word; but lie divideth not the hoof, he parteth 
 not with the way of sinners; but, as the hare, he 
 retaineth the foot of a dog or bear, and therefore 
 he is unclean. 1 
 
 Chr. You have spoken, for aught I know, the 
 true gospel sense of those texts. And I will add 
 another thing: Paul calleth some men, yea, and 
 those great talkers too, ‘ sounding brass, and tink- 
 ling cymbals,’ that is, as he expounds them in 
 Talkative like another place, ‘ things without life 
 
 to things that • . . , ° . ’ 
 
 sound without giving SOlind. 1 Co. xiii. 1—3; xiv. 7. Things 
 
 We * without life, that is, without the true 
 
 faith and grace of the gospel; and consequently, 
 
 things that shall never be placed in the kingdom 
 
 of heaven among those that are the children of life; 
 
 though their sound, by their talk, be as if it were 
 
 the tongue or voice of an angel. 
 
 Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company 
 at first, but 1 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. AY hat would you have me to do ? 
 
 Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some j 
 serious discourse about the power of religion; and 
 ask him plainly (when he has approved of it, for 
 
 1 This spiritual application of tlie law of Moses is found in 
 the narrative of Bunyan’s experience in the Grace Abounding , 
 ^°* 71: ‘I was also made, about this time, to see something 
 concerning the beasts that Moses counted clean and unclean. 
 
 I thought those beasts were types of men: the clean, types of 
 them that were the people of God; but the unclean, types of 
 such as were the children of the wicked one. Now, 1 read, 
 that the clean beasts cheiced the cud; that is, thought I, they 
 show us we must feed upon the Word of God; they also parted 
 the hoof I thought that signified we must part, if we would ! 
 be saved, with the ways of uugodly men.’ I 
 
 that lie will) whether this thing be set up in his 
 heart, house, or conversation ? 2 * 
 
 1 Aim. Then Faithful stepped forward again, 
 and said to Talkative, Come, what cheer ? IIow 
 is it now ? 
 
 Talk. Thank you, well. I thought we should 
 have had a great deal of talk by this time. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; 
 and since you left it with me to state the question, 
 let it be this: IIow doth the saving grace of God 
 discover itself, when it is in the heart of man ? 
 
 Talk. I perceive then, that our talk must be 
 
 about the power of things. Well, it is a very good 
 
 question, and I shall be willing to „ „ . 
 
 , i , , ° . Talkative’s false 
 
 answer you. And take my answer m discovery of a 
 
 brief, thus: First, Where the grace of v ork ot srace ‘ 
 
 God is in the heart, it causetli there a great outcry 
 
 against sin. Secondly- 
 
 Faith. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once. 
 I think you should rather say, It shows itself by 
 inclining the soul to abhor its sin. 
 
 Talk. \Yliy, what difference is there between 
 crying out against, and abhorring of sin ? 
 
 F aith. 0 ! a great deal. A man may cry out 
 against sin of policy, but lie cannot To c)n 
 abhor it, but by virtue of a godly anti- against^sin, no 
 pathy against it. I have heard many s ' sn oi srace ‘ 
 cry out against sin in the pulpit, who yet can abide 
 it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation. 
 Joseph’s mistress cried out with a loud voice, as if 
 she had been very holy; but she would willingly, 
 notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness 
 with him. Ge. xxxix. 15 . Some cry out against sin, 
 even as the mother cries out against her child in 
 her lap, when she calleth it slut and naughty girl, 
 and then falls to hugging and kissing it. :j 
 
 Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive. 4 
 
 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. 
 
 2 True faith will ever show itself by its fruits; real conver¬ 
 sion, by the life and conversation. Be not deceived; God is 
 not to be mocked with the tongue, if the heart is not right to¬ 
 wards him in love and obedience.— (Mason.) 
 
 y This distinction between speaking against sin, and feeling 
 a hatred to it, is so vastly important, that it forms the only 
 infallible test to distinguish between those who are e quickened ’ 
 by the Spirit of God, and those who * have a name to live and 
 are dead.’ It is a very awful statement, but, it is to be feared, 
 strictly correct, that ministers may declaim against sin in the 
 pulpit, who yet indulge it in the parlour. There may be 
 much head knowledge , where there is no heart religion .— 
 (Iviraey.) 
 
 4 Christian faithfulness detects mere talkatives, and thev 
 complain, ‘ in so saying thou condemnest us also;’ they will bear 
 no longer, but seek refuge under more comfortable preachers, 
 or in more candid company, and represent those faithful moni¬ 
 tors as censorious, peevish, and melancholy men—lying at the 
 catch.—(Scott.) 
 
124 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Faith. This sign should have been first; hut 
 „ , , first or last, it is also false; for know- 
 
 ledge no sign ledge, great knowledge, may be ob¬ 
 tained in the mysteries of the gospel, 
 and yet no work of grace in the soul. 1 Co. xiii. 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 blessing in the knowing of them, but in the 
 doing of them. For there is a knowledge that is 
 not attended with doing: ‘ He that knoweth his 
 master’s will, and doeth it not.’ A man may know 
 like an angel, and yet be no Christian, therefore 
 your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to know is a 
 thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters ; but to do 
 is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart 
 Knowledge and can be good without knowledge; for 
 knowledge. without that the heart is naught. 
 
 There is, therefore, knowledge and knowledge. 
 Knowledge that resteth in the bare speculation of 
 things; and knowledge that is accompanied with 
 the grace of faith and love; which puts a man upon 
 doing; even the will of God from the heart: the 
 k i e first of these will serve the talker; but 
 attended with without the other the true Christian is 
 endeavours. not content< < Give me understanding, 
 
 and I shall keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it 
 with my whole heart.’ Ps. cxix. 34. 
 
 Talk. You lie at the catch again; this is not 
 for edification. 1 
 
 Faith. Well, if you please, propound another 
 sign how this work of grace discovereth itself where 
 it is. 
 
 Talk. Not I, for I see we shall not agree. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me 
 leave to do it ? 
 
 Talk. You may use your liberty. 
 
 Faith. A work of grace in the soul discovereth 
 One good sign itself, either to him that hath it, or to 
 
 of grace. standers by. 
 
 To him that hath it thus: It gives him convic¬ 
 tion of sin, especially of the defilement of his na¬ 
 ture and the sin of unbelief (for the sake of which 
 he is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy 
 at God’s hand, by faith in Jesus Christ). Jn. xvi. 8. 
 Ro. vii. 24. Jn. xvi. 9. Mar. xvi. 16. This sight and sense 
 
 1 In the Jerusalem Sinner Saved, Banyan explains his mean¬ 
 ing of ‘ lymg at the catch’ in these solemn words, referring to 
 those who abide in sin, and yet expect to be saved by grace: 
 ‘ Of this sort are they that build up Zion with blood, and Jeru¬ 
 salem with iniquity; that judge for reward, and teach for hire, 
 and divine for money, and lean upon the Lord. Mic. iii. 10,11. 
 This is doing things with a high hand against the Lord our 
 God, and a taking him, as it were, at the catch! This is, as 
 we say among men, to seek to put a trick upon God, as if he 
 had not sufficiently fortified his proposals of grace by his Holy 
 Word, against all such kind of fools as these.’—(Vol. i. p. 93.) 
 
 of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for 
 sin; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the 
 Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity 
 of closing with him for life, at the which he findeth 
 hungerings and thirstings after him; to which 
 hungerings, Ac., the promise is made. Ps. xxxviii. is. 
 Je. xxxi. 19. Ga. ii. 16. Ac. iv. 12. Mat. v. 6. Re. xxi. 6. 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 corrup¬ 
 tions now, and his abused reason, make his mind 
 to misjudge in this matter; therefore, in him that 
 hath this work, there is required a very sound 
 judgment before he can, with steadiness, conclude 
 that this is a work of grace. 
 
 To others, it is thus discovered: 
 
 1. By an experimental confession of his faith in 
 Christ. Ro. X. 10. Phi. i. 27. Mat. v. 19. 
 
 2. By a life answerable to that confession; to 
 wit, a life of holiness; heart-holiness, family-holi¬ 
 ness (if he hath a family), and by conversation- 
 holiness in the world ; which, in the general, teach- 
 eth him, inwardly, to abhor his sin, and himself for 
 that, in secret; to suppress it in his family, and 
 to promote holiness in the world; not by talk only, 
 as a hypocrite or talkative person may do, but 
 by a practical subjection, in faith and love, to the 
 power of the Word. Jn. xiv. 15. Ps. 1. 23. Job xlii. 5, 6. 
 Eze. xx. 43. And now, Sir, as to this brief descrip¬ 
 tion of the work of grace, and also the discovery 
 of it, if you have aught to object, object; if not, 
 then give me leave to propound to you a second 
 question. 
 
 Talk. Nay, my part is not now to object, but 
 to hear; let me, therefore, have your second 
 question. 
 
 Faith. It is this: Do you experience this first 
 part of this description of it ? and Another good 
 doth your life and conversation testify slgn of grace - 
 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 commendeth. ’ Be¬ 
 sides, to say, I am thus, and thus, when my con¬ 
 versation, and all my neighbours, tell me I lie, is 
 great xvickedness. 2 
 
 Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush; 
 
 2 Blessed faithful dealing 1 O that it was more practised 
 in the world, and in the church l How then would vain 
 talkers he detected in the one, and driven out of the other. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 125 
 
 hut, recovering himself, thus he replied: You come 
 Talkative not now to experience, to conscience, and 
 Faithful’s 111 God; and to appeal to him for justi- 
 
 questiou. fication of what is spoken. This kind 
 
 of discourse I did not expect; nor am I disposed 
 to give an answer to such questions, because I 
 count not myself bound thereto, unless you take 
 upon you to be a catechiser, and, though you 
 should so do, yet I may refuse to make you my 
 judge. But, I pray, will you tell me why you ask 
 me such questions ? 1 
 
 Faith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and 
 The reasons wiiy because I knew not that you had aught 
 him that ques- else but notion. Besides, to tell you 
 tton. all truth, I have heard of you, that 
 
 you are a man whose religion lies in talk, and that 
 your conversation gives this your mouth-profession 
 
 Faithful’s plain the lie ’ Tlie J Sa J> y ou are a S P°* 
 
 dealing to among Christians; and that religion 
 
 1 Hi K 3 til VP ' O 
 
 faretli the worse for your ungodly 
 conversation ; that some already have stumbled at 
 your wicked ways, and that more are in danger of 
 being destroyed thereby; your religion, and an 
 ale-house, and covetousness, and uncleanness, and 
 swearing, and lying, and vain company keeping, 
 &c., will stand together. The proverb is true of 
 you which is said of a whore, to wit, that she is a 
 shame to all women; so are you a shame to all 
 professors. 1 2 
 
 Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports, 
 and to judge so rashly as you do, I cannot but 
 Talkative flings conclude you are some peevish or 
 
 Faithful fr ° m melancllol y man > n ot fit to be dis¬ 
 coursed with ; and so adieu. 3 * * * * 8 
 
 Chr. Then came up Christian, and said to his 
 brother, I told you how it would happen; your 
 words and his lusts could not agree; he had rather 
 leave your company than reform his life. But he 
 
 1 Heart searching, soul examining, and close questioning of 
 the conduct of life, will not do with talkative professors. Ring 
 a peal on the doctrines of grace, and many will chime in with 
 you; hut speak closely how grace operates upon the heart, and 
 influences the life to follow Christ in self-denying obedience, 
 they cannot bear it; they are offended with you, and will turn 
 away from you, and call you legal.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 I observe that, as there are trees wholly noble, so there 
 
 are also their semblance; not right, but ignoble. There is the 
 
 grape, and the wild grape; the rose, and the canker rose; the 
 
 apple and the crab. Now, fruit from these wild trees, however 
 it may please children to play with, yet the prudent count it 
 of no value. There are also in the world a generation of pro¬ 
 fessors that bring forth nothing but wild olive berries; saints 
 only before men, devils and vipers at home; saints in word, 
 but sinners in heart and life. Well, saith God, this profession 
 is but a cloak: I will loose the reins of this man, and give him 
 
 up to his own vile affections. ‘ I will answer him by myself.’ 
 
 Eze. xiv. 7. Thou art too hard for the church: she knows not 
 how to deal with thee. Well, I will deal with that man my¬ 
 self.—(Runyan’s Barren Fig-tree .) 
 
 8 W here the heart is rotten, it w ill ward off conviction, turn 
 from a faithful reprover, condemn him, and justify itself. Faith¬ 
 ful dealing will not do for unfaithful souls. Mind not that, but 
 be faithful to the truth.—(Mason.) 
 
 is gone, as 1 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 A s ° otl ri(ldilIUC - 
 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 dis¬ 
 course with him ; it may happen that he will think 
 of it again; however, I have dealt plainly with 
 him, and so am clear of his blood, if he perisheth. 
 
 Cfir. You did well to talk so plainly to him 
 as you did; there is but little of this faithful deal¬ 
 ing with men now-a-days, and that makes religion 
 to stink so in the nostrils of many, as it doth ; for 
 they are these talkative fools whose religion is only 
 in word, and are debauched and vain in their con¬ 
 versation, that (being so much admitted into the 
 fellowship of the godly) do puzzle the world, blem¬ 
 ish 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 con¬ 
 formable to religion, or the company of saints 
 would be too hot for them. Then did Faithful say, 
 
 How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes! 
 
 How bravely doth he speak! How he presumes 
 To drive down all before him! But so soon 
 As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon 
 That’s past the full, into the wane he goes. 
 
 And so will all, hut he that heart-work knows. 
 
 Thus they went on talking of what they had 
 seen by the way, and so made that way easy which 
 would, otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to 
 them; for now they went through a wilderness. 
 
 Now, when they were got almost quite out of 
 this wilderness, Faithful chanced to cast his eye 
 back, and espied one coming after them, and he 
 knew him. Oh ! said Faithful to his brother, Who 
 comes yonder ? Then Christian looked, and said, 
 It is my good friend Evangelist. Aye, and my 
 good friend too, said Faithful, for it was he that 
 set me the way to the o;ate. Now was 
 
 J ° Evangelist 
 
 Evangelist come up unto them, and overtakes 
 
 thus saluted them: tliem agam ‘ 
 
 Evan. Peace be with you, dearly beloved; and 
 peace be to your helpers. 
 
 Chr. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist; 
 the sight of thy countenance brings to They are glad at 
 my remembrance thy ancient kindness tlie sight of him. 
 and unwearied labouring for my eternal good. 
 
 Faith. And a thousand times welcome, said 
 good Faithful. Thy company', 0 sweet Evangelist, 
 how desirable it is to us poor pilgrims ! 1 
 
 Evan. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared 
 
 4 How they rejoiced again to meet Evangelist, and listen to 
 his encouraging and animating exhortations; of which, as they 
 were now near the great town of Vanity Fair, they would stand 
 in special need. Indeed, it was to forewarn them of what they 
 
 | 
 
 flj 
 
 
120 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 with you, my friends, since the time of our last 
 parting ? What have you met with, and how 
 have you behaved yourselves ? 
 
 Then Christian and Faithful told him of all 
 things that had happened to them in the way; 
 and how, and with what difficulty, they had arrived 
 to that place. * 1 
 
 Evan. Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not 
 
 His exhortation that you have met with trials, but 
 
 to them. that y 0ll h ave h een victors ; and for 
 
 that you have, notwithstanding many weaknesses, 
 continued in the way to this very day. 
 
 I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that 
 for mine own sake and yours. I have sowed, and 
 you have reaped; and the day is coming, when 
 both he that sowed and they that reaped shall 
 rejoice together; that is, if you hold out; ‘for 
 in due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not. Jn. iv. 36. 
 Ga. vi. 9 . The crown is before you, and it is an 
 incorruptible one; ‘ so run, that you may obtain 
 it. l Co. ix. 24 - 27 . Some there be that set out for 
 this crown, and, after they have gone far for it, 
 another comes in, and takes it from them; hold 
 fast, therefore, that you have, let no man take 
 your crown. Re. iii. n. 2 You are not yet out of 
 the gun-shot of the devil; you have not resisted 
 unto blood, striving against sin; let the kingdom 
 
 were to meet with there, and to exhort them, amidst all per¬ 
 secutions, to quit themselves like men, that Evangelist now 
 came to them. His voice, so solemn and deep, yet so inspiring 
 and animating, sounded like the tones of a trumpet on the eve 
 of battle.—(Cheever.) 
 
 1 The pilgrims are now about to enter upon a new era—to 
 leave their privacy in the wilderness, and commence a more 
 public scene—perhaps alluding to Bunyan’s being publicly set 
 apart to the work of the ministry. It was in the discharge 
 of these public duties that he was visited with such severe per¬ 
 secution. This interview with Evangelist reminds one of the 
 setting apart of Dissenting ministers. It is usual, on these 
 occasions, for the Christians entering on such important duties, 
 to give a short account of what ‘ had happened in the way,’ and 
 their reasons for hoping that they were called by God to the 
 work. They receive the advice of their ministering elder, and 
 the pastor prays for their peace and prosperity. Evangelist’s 
 address would make a good outline of an ordination sermon. 
 Bunyan’s account of his being thus set apart in 1656 (with 
 seven other members of the same church) is narrated in Grace 
 Abounding, Nos. 266—270. The second address of Evangelist 
 peculiarly relates to the miseries endured by Nonconformist 
 ministers in the reign of Charles II.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Shall the world venture their soul’s ruin for a poor cor¬ 
 ruptible crown; and shall not we venture the loss of a few 
 trifles for an eternal crown P Shall they venture the loss of eter¬ 
 nal life for communion with base, drunken, covetous wretches; 
 and shall we not labour as hard, run as fast, nay, a hundred 
 times more diligently, for such glorious and eternal friends as 
 God to love, Christ to redeem, the Holy Spirit to comfort, and 
 saints and angels in heaven for company ? Shall it be said at 
 the last day, that the wicked made more haste to hell than 
 you to heaven ? 0 let it not be so, but run with all might 
 and main! They that will have heaven must run for it, 
 because the devil will follow them. There is never a poor soul 
 that is gone to it, but he is after that soul. And I assure 
 them the devil is nimble; he is light of foot, and can run 
 apace. He hath overtaken many, tripped up their heels, and 
 given them an everlasting fall .—(Heavenly l'ootman.) 
 
 be always before you, and believe steadfastly con¬ 
 cerning things that are invisible. Let nothing 
 that is on this side the other world get within you; 
 and, above all, look well to your own hearts, and 
 to the lusts thereof, ‘ for they are deceitful above 
 all things, and desperately wicked;’ set your faces 
 like a flint; you have all power in heaven and 
 
 They do thank 
 him for his ex¬ 
 hortation. 
 
 He predicteth 
 what troubles 
 they shall meet 
 with in Vanity 
 Pair, and en- 
 courageth 
 them to stead¬ 
 fastness. 
 
 earth on your side. 
 
 Chr. Then Christian thanked him for his ex¬ 
 hortation ; but told him, withal, that 
 they tvould have him speak further to 
 them for their help the rest of the way, 
 and the rather, for that they well knew that he 
 was a prophet, and could tell them of things that 
 might happen unto them, and also how they might 
 resist and overcome them. To which request 
 Faithful also consented. So Evangelist began 
 as followeth: 
 
 Evan. My sons, you have heard in the words of 
 the truth of the gospel that you must, 
 through many tribulations, enter into 
 the kingdom of heaven. And again, 
 that in every city bonds and afflictions 
 abide in you; and therefore you cannot 
 expect that you should go long on your 
 pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other. 
 You have found something of the truth of these 
 testimonies upon you already, and more will imme¬ 
 diately follow ; for now, as you see, you are almost 
 out of this wilderness, and therefore you will soon 
 come into a town that you will by and by see before 
 you; and in that town you will be hardly beset 
 with enemies, who will strain hard but they will 
 kill you; and be you sure that one or both of you 
 must seal the testimony which you hold, with 
 blood; but be you faithful unto death, and the 
 King will give you a crown of life. 
 
 He that shall die there, although his 
 death will be unnatural, and his pain 
 perhaps great, he will yet have the 
 better of his fellow; not only because he will be 
 arrived at the Celestial City soonest, but because 
 he will escape many miseries that the other will 
 meet with in the rest of his journey. But when 
 you are come to the town, and shall find fulfilled 
 what, I have here related, then remember your 
 friend and quit yourselves like men, and commit 
 the keeping of your souls to your God in well-doing, 
 n.s nnt.n n, faithful Creator. 1 ' 
 
 He whose lot it 
 will be there to 
 suiter, will have 
 the better of 
 liis brother. 
 
 3 Bunyan illustrates the care of Christ for his afflicted ones 
 with striking simplicity. ‘ I love to play the child with chil¬ 
 dren. I have met with a child that had a sore finger, so that 
 it was useless. Then have 1 said, Shall we cut off this finger, 
 and buy my child a better, a brave golden finger ? At this he 
 started, and felt indignation against me. Now, if a child has 
 such tenderness for a useless member, how much more tender 
 is the Son of God to his afflicted members ? ’— {Saint’s Privilege, 
 vol. i. p. 674.) The text here quoted forms the foundation of 
 Bunyan’s admirable Advice to Sufferers, in which he delight- 
 
TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 127 
 
 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 
 ^ anity; and at the town there is a fair kept, 
 called Vanity Fair: it is kept all the year long; 
 it beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the 
 town where it is kept is lighter than vanity; anc 
 also because all that is there sold, or that cometli 
 thither, is vanity. As is the saying of the wise, 
 
 ‘ All that cometli is vanity. ’ Ec. i. ; u. 11,17 ; xi. s. is.xi 17. 
 
 This fair is no new-erected business, but a tiling 
 of ancient standing ; I will show you the original 
 of it. 
 
 Almost live thousand years agone, there were 
 The antiquity of pilgrims walking to the Celestial City 
 ls lcUr * as these two honest persons are: and 
 Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their com¬ 
 panions, perceiving by the path that the pilgrims 
 made, that their way to the city lay through this 
 town of \ anity, they contrived here to set up a fair; 
 a fair wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity, 
 and that it should last all the year long: tliere- 
 
 Themerchandise fore at this fair are all such merchan- 
 oi this fair, ^ise as } 10uses> i an( j S) trades, 
 
 places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, 
 kingdoms, lusts, pleasures, and delights of all 
 sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, 
 masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, 
 gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not. 1 2 
 
 And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times 
 to be seen juggling, cheats, games, plays, fools, 
 apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every 
 kind. 
 
 Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, 
 thefts, murders, adulteries, false swearers, and that 
 of a blood-red colour.” 
 
 Lilly dwells upon the topics which Evangelist addresses to the 
 Pilgrims, when on the verge of bitter persecution.— (Ed.) 
 
 ] Vanity lair is the City of Destruction in its gala dress, 
 in its most seductive and sensual allurements. It is this world 
 in miniature, with its various temptations. Hitherto we have 
 observed the pilgrims by themselves, in loneliness, in obscurity, 
 in the hidden life and experience of the people of God. The 
 allegory thus far has been that of the soul, amidst its spiritual 
 enemies, toiling towards heaven; now there comes a scene 
 more open, tangible, external; the allurements of the world 
 are to be presented, with the manner in which the true pilgrim 
 conducts himself amidst them. It was necessary that Bunvan 
 should show his pilgrimage in its external as well as its secret 
 spiritual conflicts; it was necessary that he should draw the 
 contrast between the pursuits and deportment of the children 
 of this world and the children of light; that he should show 
 how a true pilgrim appears, and is likely to be regarded, who, 
 amidst the world’s vanities, lives above the world, is dead to 
 it, and walks through it as a stranger and a pilgrim towards 
 heaven.—(Cheever.) 
 
 2 A just description of this wicked world. How many, 
 though they profess to be pilgrims, have never yet set one 
 loot out of this fair; but live in it all the year round! They 
 , " alk according to the course of this world,’ Ep. ii. 2; for 
 
 the god of this world hath blinded their minds.’ 2 Co. iv. 4 
 But all those for whose sins Jesus hath died ‘ he delivers from 
 this present evil world.’ Ga. i. 4. You cannot be a pilgrim, if 
 
 And as in other fairs of less moment, there are 
 the several rows and streets, under their proper 
 names, where such and such wares are vended; so 
 here likewise you have the proper places, rows, 
 streets (viz. countries and kingdoms), where the 
 wares of this fair are soonest to be found. Here 
 is the Britain Row, the French Row, ^ street3 of 
 the Italian Row, the Spanish Row, the this fair - 
 German Row, where several sorts of vanities are to 
 be sold. But, as in other fairs, some one com¬ 
 modity is as the chief of all the fair, so the ware 
 of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted 
 in this fair; only our English nation, with some 
 others, have taken a dislike thereat. 3 
 
 How, as I said, the way to the Celestial City 
 lies just through this town where this lusty fair is 
 kept; and he that will go to the City, and yet not 
 go through this town, must needs * go out of the 
 world. ’ 1 Co. v. 10 . The Prince of princes Christ went 
 himself, when here, went throuo’h this though this fair, 
 town to his own country, and that upon a fair day 
 too; yea, and as I think, it was Beelzebub, the 
 chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of 
 his vanities; yea, would have made him lord of 
 the fair, Avould he but have done him reverence as 
 he went through the town. Mat. iv. 8. Lu. iv. 5 - 7 . Yea, 
 because he was such a person of honour, Beelzebub 
 
 you are not delivered from this world and its vanities; for if 
 you love the world, if it has your supreme affections, the love 
 of God is not in you, 1 Jn. ii. 15 ; you have not one grain of 
 precious faith in precious Jesus.— (Mason.) 
 
 3 Mr. James, who, in 1815, published the ‘Pilgrim’ in 
 verse, conjectures that Bunyan’s description of the Pair arose 
 from his having been at Sturbridge Fair, near Cambridge. It 
 was thus described in 178G :—‘The shops or booths are built 
 in rows like streets, having each its name; as Garlick Row, 
 Bookseller’s Row, Cook Row, &c. Here are all sorts of traders, 
 who sell by wholesale or retail; as goldsmith’s toymen, 
 maziers, turners, milliners, haberdashers, hatters, mercers, 
 drapers, pewterers, china warehouses, and, in a word, most 
 trades that can be found in London. Here are also taverns, 
 coffee-houses, and eating-houses, in great plenty. The chief 
 diversions are puppets, rope-dancing, and music booths. To 
 Lis Fair, people from Bedfordshire and the adjoining counties 
 still resort. Similar kinds of fairs are now kept at Frankfort 
 and Leipzig. These mercantile fairs were very injurious to 
 morals; but not to the extent of debauchery and villany, which 
 reign in our present annual fairs, near the metropolis and large 
 cities.’ See an account of this fair in Hone’s Year Book , 
 p. 1538.—(Ed.) Our author evidently designed to exhibit in 
 his allegory the grand outlines of the difficulties, temptations, 
 and sufferings, to which believers are exposed in this evil 
 world; which, in a work of this nature, must be related as if 
 they came upon them one after another in regular succession; 
 though in actual experience several may meet together, many 
 may molest the same person again and again, and some harass 
 him in every stage of his journey. We should, therefore, 
 singly consider the instruction conveyed by every allegorical 
 incident, without measuring our experience, or calculating our 
 progress, by comparing them with circumstances which might 
 be reversed or altered with almost endless variety. In gene¬ 
 ral, Vanity Fair represents the wretched state of things in 
 those populous places especially, where true religion is neglected 
 and persecuted; and, indeed, ‘in the whole world lying in 
 wickedness,’ as distinguished from the church of redeemed 
 sinners.’—(Scott.) 
 
 
 ■•3 
 
 «V-% 
 
 * % 
 
 4; pi 
 
 
128 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 had him from street to street, and showed him all 
 the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that 
 he might, if possible, allure the Blessed One to 
 
 Christ bought c ^ ea P en an( ^ buy some vanities; 
 
 nothing in this but lie had no mind to the merchandise, 
 
 fair ’ and therefore left the town, without 
 
 laying out so much as one farthing upon these 
 vanities. This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, 
 of long standing, and a very great fair. Now 
 The Pilgrims these Pilgrims, as I said, must needs 
 enter the fair. g 0 through this fair. 1 Well, so they 
 
 did; but, behold, even as they entered into the 
 
 fair, all the people in the fair were moved, and the 
 
 ... town itself as it were in a hubbub 
 The fair in a , . n ■. 
 
 hubbub about about them ; and that tor several rea- 
 them. r 
 
 sons; tor— 
 
 First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind 
 
 The first cause of raiment as was diverse from the 
 of the hubbub. ra i men t of any that traded in that 
 
 fair. The people, therefore, of the fair, made a 
 great gazing upon them; some said they were 
 fools, some they were bedlams, and some they are 
 outlandish men. 2 3 1 Co. ii. 7, 8. 
 
 Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, 
 
 Second cause of so they did likewise at theii speech; 
 the hubbub. f or f ew cou ld 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 
 Third cause of the merchandisers was, that these pil- 
 the hubbub. g r ims S et very light by all their wares; 
 
 they cared not so much as to look upon them; and 
 if they called upon them to buy, they would put 
 their fingers in their ears, and cry, ‘ Turn away 
 mine eyes from beholding vanity,’ 0 and look up¬ 
 wards, signifying that their trade and traffic was 
 in heaven. Ps. cxix. 37. Phi. m. 19 , 20 . 
 
 One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage 
 Fourth cause of of the men, to say unto them, What 
 will ye buy ? But they, looking gravely 
 
 They are mocked. 
 
 the hubbub. 
 
 1 Christ will not allow his followers to bury their talent in 
 the earth, or to put their light under a bushel; they are not 
 to go out of the world, or to retire into cloisters, monasteries, 
 or deserts; hut they must all go through this fair. Thus our 
 Lord endured all the temptations and sufferings of this evil 
 world, without being impeded or entangled by them, or step¬ 
 ping in the least aside to avoid them ; and he was exposed to 
 greater enmity and contempt than any of his followers.—(Scott.) 
 
 2 The world will seek to keep you out of heaven with mocks, 
 flouts, taunts, threatenings, jails, gibbets, halters, burnings, and 
 deaths. There ever was enmity between the seed of the serpent 
 and the seed of the woman, and no endeavours can reconcile 
 them. The w r orld says. They will never come over to us ; and 
 we again say, By God’s grace we will not go over to them. 
 
 3 Holy Hunt of Hitchin, as he was called, a friend of Bun- 
 yan’s, passing the market-place where mountebanks were 
 performing, one cried after him, ‘Look there, Mr. Hunt.’ 
 Turning his head another w T ay, he replied, ‘ Turn away mine 
 
 eyes from beholding vanity.’— (Ivimey.) 
 
 upon him, answered, ‘ We buy the truth.’ 4 Pr. xxiu. 23 . 
 At that there was an occasion taken to despise 
 the men the more: some mocking, 
 some taunting, some speaking re¬ 
 proachfully, and some calling upon others to smite 
 them. At last tilings came to a hub- The fair in a 
 bub, and great stir in the fair, inso- hubbub, 
 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 fair was almost over¬ 
 turned. So the men were brought to They are exa- 
 examination ; and they that sat upon mmed. 
 them, asked them whence they came, whither they 
 went, and what they did there in such an unusual 
 garb ? The men told them, that they They tell who 
 were pilgrims and strangers in the whence^’ they 
 world, and that they were going to came * 
 their own country, which was the heavenly Jeru¬ 
 salem, lie. ix. 13 -I 6 ; and that they had given no 
 occasion to the men of the town, nor yet to the 
 merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let them 
 in their journey, except it was, for that, when one 
 asked them what they would buy, they said they 
 would buy the truth. 4 But they that were ap¬ 
 pointed to examine them did not believe them to 
 be any other than bedlams and mad, They are not 
 or else such as came to put all things believed, 
 into a confusion in the fair. Therefore they took 
 them and beat them, and besmeared them with 
 dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they 
 might be made a sjiectacle to all the They are put in 
 men of the fair. There, therefore, the cage, 
 they lay for some time, and were made the objects 
 of any man’s sport, or malice, or revenge, the 
 great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell 
 them. But the men being patient, and Their behaviour 
 not rendering railing for railing, but “ tlie cage * 
 contrariwise, blessing, and giving good words for 
 bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in 
 the fair that were more observing, and less pre¬ 
 judiced than the rest, began to check and blame 
 the baser sort for their continual abuses done by 
 them to the men; they, therefore, in angry man- 
 
 4 An odd reply. "What do they mean? That they are 
 neither afraid nor ashamed to own what was the one subject 
 of their souls’ pursuit—the truth. Understand hereby, that 
 the whole world, which lieth in wickedness, is deceived by a 
 lie, and is under the delusion of the father of lies. In oppo¬ 
 sition to this, all believers in Christ are said to be of the truth. 
 1 Jn. iii. 19. They know and believe that capital truth with 
 which God spake from heaven, ‘ This is my beloved Son, in 
 whom I am well pleased.’ Mat. iii. 17. This truth—that 
 Jesus is the Son of God, and our only Saviour—lies at the 
 foundation of all their hope; and to get more and more 
 acquainted with him, is the grand object of their pursuits. 
 Eor this the world hates them; and Satan, who is an enemy 
 to this truth, stirs up the world against them. ‘ Eor,’ says 
 our Lord, * they are not of the world, even as I am not of 
 the world.’ Jn. xvii. 16.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 129 
 
 ner, let fly at them again, counting them as had 
 as the men in the cage, and telling 
 fair do fall out them that they seemed confederates, 
 selves’ about and should he made partakers of their 
 these two men. misfortunes. 1 The other replied, that 
 
 for aught they could see, the men were quiet, 
 and sober, and intended nobody any harm; and 
 that there were many that traded in their fair, that 
 were more worthy to he put into the cage, yea, and 
 pillory too, than were the men that they had abused. 
 Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, 
 the men behaving themselves all the while very 
 wisely and soberly before them, they fell to some 
 blows among themselves, and did harm one to 
 They are made another. Then were these two poor 
 tins aU disiuib- mcn brought before their examiners 
 aiice - again, and there charged as being 
 
 guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. 
 So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon 
 
 They are led up and led them in chains up and 
 
 and down the down the fair, for an example and a 
 
 fair in chains, r 
 
 for a terror to terror to others, lest any should speak 
 
 in their behalf, or join themselves unto 
 them. 2 But Christian and Faithful behaved them¬ 
 selves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy 
 and shame that was cast upon them, with so much 
 
 Someofthemen mee kness and patience, that it won to 
 
 of the fair won their side, though but few in compari- 
 tothem. „ . r . 
 
 son oi the rest, several of the men m 
 the fair. This put the other party yet into greater 
 
 Their adversar- ra 8' e > insomuch that they concluded 
 
 ies resolve to the death of these two men. Where- 
 kill them. pit 
 
 fore they threatened, that the cage 
 nor irons should serve their turn, but that they 
 should die, for the abuse they had done, and for 
 deluding the men of the fair. 
 
 Then were they remanded to the cage again, 
 until further order should be taken with them. So 
 they put them in, and made their feet fast in the 
 stocks. 
 
 Here, therefore, they called again to mind what 
 they had heard from their faithful friend Evan¬ 
 gelist, and were the more confirmed in their way 
 
 1 In 1670, the town porters of Bedford being commanded 
 to assist in a brutal attack upon the Nonconformists, ran away, 
 saying, ‘ They would be banged, drawn, and quartered, before 
 they would assist in that workfor which cause the justices 
 committed two of them (which they could take) to the jail. 
 The shops w T ere shut up, so that it seemed like a place visited 
 with the pest, where usually is wnitten upon the door, ‘ Lord, 
 have mercy upon us ! ’—(Narrative of Proceedings against 
 Nonconformists, p. 5. 4to, 1670.) 
 
 This is a true representation of what took place in England 
 in Bunyan’s time. It was a disgrace to our nation, that Eng¬ 
 lishmen, urged on by a fanatic church, treated tw o young and 
 interesting women with a barbarity that would make savages 
 (so called) blush. It w r as at Carlisle that two female pilgrims, 
 Dorothy W augh and Ann Robinson, were dragged through the 
 streets, with each an iron instrument of torture, called a bridle, 
 upon their heads; and were treated with gross indecency.— 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 and sufferings, by what lie told them would happen 
 to them. 3 They also now comforted each other, 
 that whose lot it was to suffer, even he should have 
 the best of it; therefore each man secretly wished 
 that he might have that preferment: but commit¬ 
 ting themselves to the all-wise disposal of Him that 
 ruletk all things, with much content they abode in 
 the condition in which they were, until they should 
 be otherwise disposed of. 4 
 
 Then a convenient time being appointed, they 
 brought them forth to their trial, in 
 
 ° , ’ They are again 
 
 order to their condemnation. When put into the 
 
 the time was come, they were brought brought d to 
 before their enemies and arraigned. tna1 ' 
 
 The Judge’s name was Lord Hate-good. Their in¬ 
 dictment was one and the same in substance, 
 though somewhat varying in form, the contents 
 whereof were this:— 
 
 ‘ That they were enemies to, and disturbers of 
 their trade; that they had made com- Their indict- 
 motions and divisions in the town, and meut - 
 had won a party to their own most dangerous 
 opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince.’ 5 6 
 
 Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only 
 set himself against that which had set p aitllfuI > 3 an 
 itself against him that is higher than swer for hun- 
 the highest. And, said he, as for stiL 
 disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of 
 peace; the parties that were won to us, were won 
 by beholding our truth and innocence, and they 
 are only turned from the worse to the better. And 
 as to the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, 
 the enemy of our Lord, I defy him and all his 
 angels. 
 
 Then proclamation was made, that tliey that had 
 aught to say for their lord the king against the 
 prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear and 
 give in their evidence. So there came in three 
 
 3 The great object of the gospel is to fit man for bis active 
 duties in this world, and prepare him for heavenly enjoy¬ 
 ments in the world to come. Not like those lazy creeping things 
 that shut themselves up in nunneries or monasteries to avoid 
 the temptations and troubles, the resistance or bearing of which 
 glorifies God. Christians are to be as lights—not hid under a 
 bushel, but seen of all men. The prayer of their Lord was 
 and is, not that they should be taken out of the world, but 
 kept from its evil contaminations.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 In Bunyan’s account of his imprisonment, he closes it 
 
 with these words :—‘ Thus have I, in short, declared the man¬ 
 ner and occasion of my being in prison; where I lie waiting 
 the good will of God to do with me as he pleaseth; knowing 
 that not one hair of my head can fall to the ground without 
 the will of my Father which is in heaven. Let the rage and 
 malice of men be ever so great, they can do no more, nor go 
 any further, than God permits them. When they have done 
 their v r orst, “ we know that all things w r ork together for good 
 to them that love God.” * Ro. viii. 28. 
 
 6 The description of the process against the pilgrims, is 
 framed in such a manner as emphatically to expose the secret 
 reasons which influence men thus to persecute their innocent 
 neighbours. The very names employed declare the several 
 corrupt principles of the heart from whence this atrocious 
 conduct results.—(Scott.) 
 
 17 
 
130 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Envy begins. 
 
 witnesses, to wit, Envy, Superstition, and Pick- 
 thank. They were then asked if they knew the 
 prisoner at the bar; and what they had to say for 
 their lord the kins' against him. 
 
 Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect: 
 
 My Lord, I have known this man a 
 long time, and will attest upon my 
 
 oath before this honourable bench, that he is- 
 
 Judge. Hold. Give him his oath. (So they 
 sware him.) Then he said— 
 
 Envy. My Lord, this man, notwithstanding his 
 plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our 
 country. Pie neither regardeth prince nor people, 
 law nor custom; but doth all that he can to possess 
 
 all men with certain of his disloyal notions, 1 which 
 
 %/ 
 
 he in the general calls principles of faith and holi¬ 
 ness. 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 be tedious to the court. Yet, if need 
 be, when the other gentlemen have given in their 
 evidence, rather than anything shall be wanting 
 that will despatch him, I will enlarge my testimony 
 against him. So he was bid 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 
 Superstition with this man, nor do I desire to have 
 follows. further knowledge of him; however, 
 this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from 
 some discourse that, the other day, I had with 
 him in this town; for then talking with him, I 
 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, my Lord, your Lord- 
 ship very well knows, what necessarily thence will 
 follow, to wit, that we do still worship in vain, are 
 yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned; and 
 this is that which I have to say. 2 
 
 1 This is one of Satan’s lies, much used by his emissaries, to 
 the present day. A Christian fears God, and honours the 
 king; he renders unto civil government that which belongs to 
 civil and temporal things, but he dares not render unto Csesar 
 the things that belong to God; and for thus righteously doing 
 he is called disloyal.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Superstition, or false devotion, is a most bitter enemy to 
 Christ’s truth and his followers. This fellow’s evidence is 
 very true; for as the lawyer said of Christ’s doctrine, ‘ Master, 
 thus saying, thou reproachest us also.’ Lu. xi. 45. So false 
 worshippers, who rest in forms, and rites, and shadows, are 
 
 stung to the quick at those who worship God in the Spirit, 
 
 Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what 
 he knew, in behalf of their lord the king, against 
 the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 Pick. My Lord, and you gentlemen all, This 
 fellow I have known of a long time, picktkank’s tes- 
 and have heard him speak things that timony. 
 ought not to be spoke; for he hath railed on 
 our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath sins are all lords 
 spoken contemptibly of his honour- and great ones, 
 
 able friends, whose names are the Lord Old Man, 
 the Lord Carnal Delight, the Lord Luxurious, the 
 Lord Desire of Vain Glory, my old Lord Lechery, 
 Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of our nobility; 
 and he hath said, moreover, That if all men were 
 of his mind, if possible, there is not one of these 
 noblemen should have any longer a being in this 
 town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on 
 you, my Lord, who are now appointed to be his 
 judge, calling you an ungodly villain, with many 
 other such like vilifying terms, with which he hath 
 bespattered most of the gentry of our town. 3 
 
 When this Pickthank had told his tale, the Judge 
 directed his speech to the prisoner at the bar, say¬ 
 ing, Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou 
 heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed 
 against thee ? 
 
 Faith. May I speak a few words in my own 
 defence ? 
 
 Judge. Sirrah ! Sirrah ! thou deservest to live 
 no longer, but to be slain immediately upon the 
 place; yet, that all men may see our gentleness 
 towards thee, let us hear what thou, vile runagate, 
 hast to say. 
 
 Faith. 1. I say, then, in answer to what Mr. 
 
 Envy hath spoken, I never said aught Faithful . g de . 
 
 but this, That what rule, or laws, or fence of hiin- 
 i ’ a ’ , self. 
 
 custom, or people, were fiat against 
 
 the Word of God, are diametrically opposite to 
 
 Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince 
 
 rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh; 
 such a conduct pours the utmost contempt upon all the will- 
 worship, and doctrines, and superstition of carnal men.— 
 (Mason.) With such, traditions, human inventions, forms, 
 and externals, appear venerable and sacred; and they are mis¬ 
 taken with pertinaceous ignorance for the substance of religion. 
 What is pompous and burdensome appears to such men meri¬ 
 torious ; and the excitement of mere natural passions, as at a 
 tragedy, is falsely deemed a needful help to true devotion. 
 Their zeal hardens their hearts, and causes bitter rage, en¬ 
 mity, and calumny, against the pious Christians.—(Scott.) 
 
 3 As soon as the poor sinner says, ‘ 0 Lord our God, other 
 lords beside thee have had dominion over us: but by thee 
 only will we make mention of thy name,’ Is. xxvi. 13, your 
 officious Pickthanks are always ready to bear testimony against 
 him; and a blessed testimony this is; it is well worth living to 
 gain, and dying in the cause of. If we are real disciples of 
 Christ, we shall, as he did, testify of the world that the works 
 thereof are evil, and the world will hate us for his sake. Jn. 
 vii. 7-—(Mason.) Pickthank has no real principle, but puts 
 on zeal for any party that will promote his interests; he 
 inwardly despises both the superstitious and the spiritual wor¬ 
 shipper.—(Scott.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 131 
 
 me of my error, and I am ready here before you 
 to make my recantation. 
 
 2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, 
 and his charge against me, I said only this, That 
 in the worship of God there is required a Divine 
 faith; but there can be no Divine faith without a 
 Divine revelation of the will of God. Therefore, 
 whatever is thrust into the worship of God that is 
 not agreeable to Divine revelation, cannot be done 
 but by a human faith, which faith will not be 
 profitable to eternal life. 
 
 3. As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, I say 
 (avoiding terms, as that I am said to rail, and the 
 like), that the prince of this town, with all the 
 i abblement, 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 ! 1 
 
 Then the Judge called to the jury (who all this 
 
 The Judge’s w ^ e s *°°d by, to hear and observe) ; 2 
 speech to the Gentlemen of the jury, you see this 
 
 man about whom so great an uproar 
 hath been made in this town. You have also 
 heard what these worthy gentlemen have witnessed 
 against him. Also you have heard his reply and 
 confession. It lieth now in your breasts to hang 
 him, or save his life; but yet I think meet to 
 instruct you 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. e*. i. There was also an Act made 
 in the days of Nebuchadnezzar the Great, another 
 of his servants, that whosoever would not fall 
 down and worship his golden image, should be 
 thrown into a fiery furnace. Da. hi. There was also 
 an Act made in the days of Darius, that whoso, 
 for some time, called upon any God but him, 
 should be cast into the lions’ den. Da. vi. Now the 
 substance of these laws this rebel has broken, not 
 only in thought (which is not to be borne) but also 
 in word and deed; which must therefore needs be 
 intolerable. 
 
 Tim is the Christian’s plea and glory. While he kno’ 
 the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel/ Pr. xii. 10 ^ 
 he a!so knows that the ‘merciful kindness of the Lord is gre; 
 
 and the truth of the Lord endureth for ever/ Ps. cxvii 2 ■ 
 (Mason.) ' ' 
 
 . . -^. more just and keen satirical description of such let 
 iniquities can scarcely be imagined, than that contained in ti 
 passage. Ihe statutes and precedents adduced, with a humoi 
 ous reference to the style in which charges are commouly giv 
 to juries, show what patterns persecutors choose to copy a’ 
 " hos ° km Si 01 ? \ he y labour to uphold. Nor can anv impart 
 man deny, that the inference is fair, which our author mea 
 the reader to deduce, namely, that nominal Protestants, ena< 
 mg laws requiring conformity to their own creeds and forn 
 and inflicting punishments on such as peaceably dissent fro 
 
 cutOTs are (S tt f mVOlVCd ^ thC gUilt ° f these ’ h eathen pen 
 
 For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a 
 supposition, to prevent mischief, no crime bein<r 
 yet apparent; but here is a crime apparent. For 
 the second and third, you see lie 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, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Tlie jury and 
 Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. their names. 
 Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, 
 Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Implacable; 
 who every one gave in his private verdict against 
 him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously 
 concluded to bring him in guilty before the Judge. 
 And first, among themselves, Mr. Blind-man, Die 
 foreman, said, I see clearly that this Everyone’s p ri - 
 man is a heretic. 3 Then said Mr. No- vate verdict. 
 
 good, Away with such a fellow from the earth. Ay, 
 said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very looks of him. 
 Then said Mr. Love-lust, I could never endure him. 
 Is or I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would always be 
 condemning my way. Hang him, bang him, said 
 Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. 
 My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He 
 is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good 
 for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch him 
 out of the way, said Mr. Hate-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 to bringhimin 
 in guilty of death. 4 And so they did ; sullt y° fdeatb - 
 therefore he was presently condemned, to be had 
 from the place where lie was, to the place from 
 whence he came, and there to be put to the most 
 cruel death that could be invented. 5 
 
 They, therefore, brought him out, to do with him 
 according to their law; and, first, they The cruel death 
 scourged him, then they buffeted him, of Faithful, 
 hen they lanced his flesh with knives ; after that, 
 
 3 1 hese words, and this trial, were quoted (January 25, 
 1848) by the Attorney-General, at Westminster Hall, in 
 answer to the manner in which Dr. Hampden was then charged 
 with heresy by the Puseyites.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 If the Lord were to leave us in the hands of men, we 
 should still find that their tender mercies are cruel. Such a 
 jury as tried Faithful might be found in every county of Britain. 
 
 -(Burder.) To this may be added, that the witnesses are 
 still living .— (Ed.) 
 
 . 5 Nothing can be more masterly than the satire contained 
 m this trial. The judge, the witnesses, and the jury, are 
 portraits sketched to the life, and finished, every one of them, 
 in quick, concise, and graphic touches; the ready testimony 
 of Envy is especially characteristic. Rather than anything 
 should be wanting that might be necessary to despatch the 
 prisoner, he woidd enlarge his testimony against him to any 
 requisite degree. The language and deportment of the jud<je 
 are a copy to the life of some of the infamous judges under 
 King Charles, especially Jefferies. You may find, in the trial of 
 the noble patriot Algernon Sidney, the abusive language of the 
 judge against Faithful almost word for word. The charge Ic 
 the jury, with the Acts and laws on which the condemnation 
 of the prisoner was founded, are full of ingenuity and meaning 
 —(Cheever.) 
 
132 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 they stoned him with stones, then pricked him 
 with their swords; and, last of all, they burned 
 him to ashes at the stake. Tlius came Faithful to 
 his end. 1 
 
 Now I saw that there stood behind the multi- 
 A chariot and tude, a chariot and a couple of horses, 
 take CS " away waiting for Faithful, who (so soon as 
 Faithful. liis adversaries had despatched him) 
 was taken up into it, and straightway was carried 
 up through the clouds, with sound of trumpet, the 
 nearest way to the Celestial Gate. 2 
 
 But as for Christian, he had some respite, and 
 
 Christian is still was remanded back to prison. So he 
 alive. there remained for a space ; but he that 
 overrules all things, having the power of their rage 
 in his own hand, so wrought it about, that Christian 
 for that time escaped them, and went his way 
 and as lie went, he sang, saying—• 
 
 Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest 
 ^ ^ ^ Unto thy Lord; with whom thou shalt be blest, 
 
 Cliristianmade When faithless ones, with all their vain delights, 
 of Faithful Are crying out under their hellish plights, 
 after his death gj n g } 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 
 
 Christian has 
 another com¬ 
 panion. 
 
 not forth alone, for there w^as one 
 whose name was Hopeful (being made 
 so by the beholding of Christian and 
 
 Faithful in their words and behaviour, in their 
 
 sufferings at the Fair), who joined himself unto 
 him, and, entering into a brotherly covenant, told 
 him that he would be his companion. Thus, one 
 died to bear testimony to the truth, and another 
 rises out of his ashes, to be a companion with 
 Christian in his pilgrimage. 4 This Hopeful also 
 
 1 Bunyan gives a good portrait of Faithful in his House of 
 Lebanon , referring to the character of Pomporius Algerius, 
 mentioned in Fox’s Book of Martyrs. ‘ Was not this man, 
 think you, a giant ? did he not behave himself valiantly ? was 
 not his mind elevated a thousand degrees beyond sense, carnal 
 reason, fleshly love, and the desires of embracing temporal 
 things ? This man had got that by the end that pleased him; 
 neither could all the flatteries, promises, threats, reproaches, 
 make him once listen to, or inquire after, what the world, or 
 the glory of it could afford. His mind was captivated with 
 delights invisible. He coveted to show his love to his Lord, 
 by laying down his life for His sake. He longed to be where 
 there shall he no more pain, nor sorrow, nor sighing, nor tears, 
 nor troubles. He was a man of a thousand !’ Speaking of the 
 pillars in that house at Lebanon, he says, ‘ These men had the 
 faces of lions, they have triumphed in the flames.’ 
 
 2 This is a most exquisitely beautiful sketch; it is drawn to 
 the life from many an era of pilgrimage in this world; there 
 are in it the materials of glory, that constituted spirits of such 
 noble greatness as are catalogued in the eleventh of Flehrews 
 —traits of cruel mockings and scourgings, bonds and impri¬ 
 sonments.—(Cheever.) 
 
 3 Political interests engage ungodly princes to promote 
 toleration, and chain up the demon of persecution. The cruel¬ 
 ties they exercise disgust the people, and they are disheartened 
 by the ill success of their efforts to extirpate the hated sect.— 
 (Scott.) 
 
 4 I have often recorded it with thankfulness, that though in 
 the dreary day of my pilgrimage, the Lord hath taken away a 
 
 told Christian, that there were many more of the 
 men in the Fair, that would take their There are more 
 time and follow after. t } ie la i r W1 q 
 
 So I saw that quickly after they were follow - 
 got out of the Fair, they overtook one that was 
 going before them, whose name was They overtake 
 By-ends; so they said to him, What %-ends. 
 countryman, Sir ? and how far go you this way ? 
 He told them, that he came from the town of 
 Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial 
 City, but told them not his name. 
 
 From Fair-speech ! said Christian. Is there 
 any good that lives there ? Pr. xxvi. 25. 
 
 By-ends. Yes, said By-ends, I hope. 
 
 Chr. Pray, Sir, What may I call you ? said 
 Christian. 
 
 By-ends. I am a stranger to you, and you to 
 me: if you be going this way, I shall By . endsloathto 
 be glad of your company ; if not, I tell his name, 
 must be content. 
 
 Chr. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, 
 
 I have heard of; and, as I remember, they say it 
 is a wealthy place. 
 
 By-ends. Yes, I will assure you that it is; and 
 I have very many rich kindred there. 
 
 Chr. Pray, who are your kindred there ? if a 
 man may be so bold. 
 
 By-ends. Almost the whole town; and in par¬ 
 ticular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, 
 my Lord Fair-speech (from whose ancestors that 
 town first took its name), also Mr. Smooth-man, 
 Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Any-thing; and the 
 parson of our parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my 
 mother’s own brother, by father’s side; and to 
 tell you the truth, I am become a gentleman of 
 good quality, yet my great-grandfather was but a 
 waterman, looking one way and rowing another, 
 and I got most of my estate by the same occu¬ 
 pation. 
 
 Chr. Are you a married man ? 
 
 By-ends. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous 
 woman, the daughter of a virtuous The wife and kin- 
 woman;. she was my Lady Feigning’s dred of By-ends. 
 
 daughter, therefore she came of a very honourable 
 family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breeding, 
 that she knows how to carry it to all, even to 
 prince and peasant. It is true we somewhat differ 
 in religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but 
 in two small points; first, we never where By-ends 
 strive against wind and tide; secondly, others h/reh^ 
 we are always most zealous when reli- gion- 
 gion goes in his silver slippers; we love much to 
 walk with him in the street, if the sun shines, and 
 the people applaud him. 5 
 
 dear and faithful Christian friend, yet he has always raised up 
 another. A very great blessing this, for which Christians can 
 never be thankful enough.—(Mason.) 
 
 ; 5 Is not this too much the case with professors of this day ? 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 133 
 
 Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow 
 Hopeful, saying, It runs in my mind that this is 
 one By-ends of Fair-speech; and if it be he, we 
 have as very a knave in our company, as dwelleth 
 in all these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask him; 
 methinks he should not be ashamed of his name. 
 So Christian came up with him again, and said, 
 Sir, you talk as if you knew something more than 
 all the world doth ; x and if I take not my mark 
 amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you: Is not 
 your name Mr. By-ends, of Fair-speech ? 
 
 By-ends. This is not my name, but indeed it is 
 a nickname that is given me by some that cannot 
 abide me; and I must be content to bear it as a 
 reproach, as other good men have borne theirs 
 before me. 
 
 Chr. But did you never give an occasion to men 
 to call you by this name ? 
 
 By-ends. Never, never ! The worst that ever 
 How By-ends I did to give them an occasion to give 
 got ins name. me name was, that I had always 
 
 the luck to jump in my judgment with the present 
 way of the times, whatever it was, and my chance 
 was to get thereby; but if things are thus cast 
 upon me, let me count them a blessing; but let 
 not the malicious load me therefore with reproach. 
 
 Chr. I thought, indeed, that you were the man 
 that I heard of; and to tell you what I think, I 
 fear this name belongs to you more properly than 
 you are willing we should think it doth. 
 
 By-ends. Well, if you will thus imagine, I 
 
 He desires to cannot help » )' 011 shall fin{1 me a 
 
 keep company fair company-keeper, if you will still 
 with Christian. . 1 J 1 . J 
 
 admit me your associate. 
 
 Ciir. If you will go with us, you must go against 
 wind and tide; * 2 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 a s 
 when he walketh the streets with applaus e. 
 
 The Spirit of truth says, ‘All that will live godly in Christ Jesus 
 shall suffer persecution.’ 2 Ti. iii. 12. But how many act as if 
 they had found the art of making the Spirit of truth a liar! 
 for they can so trim and shape their conduct, as they vainly 
 think to follow Christ, and yet to keep in with the world, 
 which is at enmity against him—a most fatal and soul- 
 deceiving error.—(Mason.) 
 
 1 "What is this something that Bv-ends knew more than all 
 the world ? How to unite heaven and hell—how to serve God 
 and Mammon—how to he a Christian and a hypocrite at the 
 same time. O the depth of the depravity of the human heart; 
 alas! how many similar characters now exist, with two tongues 
 in one mouth, looking one way and rowing another.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Fear not, therefore, in her for to abide. 
 
 She keeps her ground, come weather, wind, or tide. 
 
 —(Bunyan’s House of God, vol. ii. p. 579.) 
 
 If we will follow Christ, he tells us that we must take up 
 our cross. The wind sets always on my face; and the foaming 
 rage of the sea of this world, and the proud and lofty waves 
 thereof do continually beat upon the sides of the bark, or ship, 
 (hat myself, my cause, and my followers are in.—(Bunyan’s 
 Greatness of the Soul , vol. i. p. 107.) 
 
 By-ends. You must not impose, nor lord it over 
 my faith; leave me to my liberty, and let me go 
 with you. 
 
 Chr. Not a step further, unless you will do in 
 what I propound, as we. 
 
 Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old 
 principles, since they are harmless and profitable. 
 
 I 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. 3 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and 
 Hopeful forsook him, and kept their By-ends and 
 distance before him; but one of them Christian part. 
 
 looking back, saw three men following Mr. By-ends, 
 and behold, as they came up with him, lie made 
 them a very low congS ; and they also gave him a 
 compliment. The men’s names were He has new 
 Mr. Hold-the-world, Mr. Money-love, companions, 
 and Mr. Save-all; 4 men that Mr. By-ends had 
 formerly been acquainted with; for in their min¬ 
 ority they were schoolfellows, and were taught by 
 one Mr. Gripeman, a schoolmaster in Love-gain, 
 which is a market town in the county of Coveting, 
 in the north. This schoolmaster taught them the 
 art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flat¬ 
 tery, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion; 
 and these four gentlemen had attained much of 
 the art of their master, so that they could each 
 of them have kept such a school themselves. 
 
 Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted 
 each other, Mr. Money-love said to Mr. By-ends, 
 Who are they upon the road before us ? (for Chris¬ 
 tian and Hopeful were yet within view.) 
 
 By-ends. They are a couple of far countrymen, 
 that, after their mode, are going on By-ends’character 
 pilgrimage. 01 lhe pn s nms - 
 
 Money-love. Alas ! Why did they not stay, 
 that we might have had their good company ? for 
 they, and we, and you, Sir, I hope, are all going 
 on a pilgrimage. 
 
 By-ends. We are so, indeed; but the men 
 before us are so rigid, and love so much their own 
 notions, 5 6 and do also so lightly esteem the opinions 
 
 J Mind how warily these pilgrims acted to this deceitful 
 professor. They did not too rashly take up an ill opinion 
 against him; but when they had full proof of what he was, 
 they did not hesitate one moment, but dealt faithfully with 
 him, and conscientiously withdrew from him.—(Mason.) In 
 a letter written in 1661, from Exeter jail, by Mr. Abraham 
 
 Chear, a Baptist minister of Plymouth, who suffered greatly 
 for nonconformity, and at leugth died in a state ot banishment, 
 there is this remark, ‘ "We have many brought in here daily, 
 
 who go out again almost as soon, for a week in a prison tries 
 a professor more than a month in a church.’—(Ivimey.) 
 
 4 It might have been supposed that the persons here intro¬ 
 duced were settled inhabitants of the town of Vanity, or the 
 City of Destruction; but, indeed, they professed themselves 
 l pilgrims, and desired, during the ‘ sunshine,’ to associate with 
 pilgrims, provided they would allow them to hold the world , 
 love money, and save all, whatever became of fiiith and holiness, 
 
 of honesty, piety, truth, and charity.—(Scott.) 
 
 6 Pretended friends come with such expostulations as these: 
 
 1 
 
m 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 of others, that let a man he never so godly, yet if 
 he jumps not with them in all things, they thrust 
 him quite out of their company. 
 
 Save-all. That is had, hut we read of some 
 that are righteous overmuch; * 1 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 ? 2 
 
 By-ends. Why, they, after their headstrong 
 manner, conclude 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 holding 
 their notions, though all other men are against 
 them; hut I am for religion in what, and so far 
 as the times, and my safety, will hear it. They are 
 for religion when in rags and contempt; hut I am 
 for him when he walks in his golden slippers, in 
 the sunshine, and with applause. 3 * 
 
 Mr. Hold-tiie-world. Aye, and hold you 
 there still, good Mr. By-ends; for, for my part, I 
 can count him hut a fool, that, having the liberty 
 to keep what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose 
 it. Let us be wise as serpents; it is best to make 
 hay when the sun shines; you see how the bee 
 lieth still all winter, and bestirs her only when 
 she can have profit with pleasure. God sends 
 sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine; if they 
 be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be 
 content to take fair weather alons; with us. For 
 my part, I like that religion best, that will stand 
 with the security of God’s good blessings unto us; 1 
 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 
 
 Why, dear Sir, will you give such offeuce ? How much would 
 it be for your comfort and interest in the world if you would 
 but be a little more complying, and give way in some particular 
 points and phrases. O what a syren’s song ! May the Lord 
 enable every faithful servant to reply, ‘ Get thee behind me, 
 Satan.’—(J. B.) 
 
 1 These words of Solomon are thus wickedly misapplied by 
 many to the present day. Ec. vii. 16, 17 probably refers to 
 the administration of justice which should be tempered with 
 mercy, but not with laxity; or it may refer to the foolish 
 opinions expressed upon the characters of pharisee and publican, 
 exalting the one or decrying the other overmuch. It cannot 
 be meant to censure the utmost efforts after true righteousness, 
 nor to sanction the slightest degree of wickedness.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Woe unto them who w r ander from the way. 
 
 Art bound for hell, against all wind and weather ? 
 
 Or art thou one agoing backward thither ? 
 
 Or dost thou wink, because thou would’st not see ? 
 
 Or dost thou sideling go, and would’st not be 
 Suspected? Yet these prophets can thee tell, 
 
 W T hich way thou art agoing down to hell. 
 
 —(Acts viii. 20-22. Bunyan’s House of God , vol. ii. p. 582.) 
 
 3 Notwithstanding By-ends could be reserved with faithful 
 pilgrims, yet he can speak out boldly to those of his own spirit 
 and character. 0 the treacherous Receivings of the desperate 
 
 wickedness of the human heart! Who can know it ? No one 
 
 but the heart-searchiDg God.—(Mason.) 
 
 for bis sake ? Abraliam and Solomon grew rich in 
 religion. And Job says, that a good man shall lay 
 up gold as dust. But he must not be such as the 
 men before us, if they be as you have described 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Save-all. I think that we are all agreed 
 in this matter, and therefore there needs no more 
 words about it. 1 
 
 Mr. Money-love. No, there needs no more 
 words about this matter indeed; for he that believes 
 neither Scripture nor reason (and you see we have 
 both on our side), neither knows his ow r n liberty, 
 nor seeks his own safety. 5 
 
 Mr. By-ends. My brethren, w r e are, as you see, 
 going all on pilgrimage; and for our better diver¬ 
 sion from things that are bad, give me leave to 
 propound unto you this question: 
 
 Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, Ac., 
 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 ? 
 
 Mr. Money-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 concerns a minister 
 himself: Suppose a minister, a worthy man, pos¬ 
 sessed but of a very small benefice, and has in his 
 eye a greater, more fat, and plump by far; he has 
 also now an opportunity of getting of it, yet so as 
 by being more studious, by preaching more fre¬ 
 quently, 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), aye, and 
 more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest 
 man. For why— 
 
 1. Ilis desire of a greater benefice is lawful 
 (this cannot be contradicted), since it is set before 
 him by Providence; so then, he may get it, if he 
 can, making no question for conscience sake. 
 
 4 Some men’s hearts are narrow upwards, and wide down¬ 
 wards : narrow as for God, but wide for the world. They 
 (/ape for the one, but shut themselves up against the other. 
 The heart of a wicked man is widest downward; but it is not 
 so with the righteous man. His desires, like the temple 
 Ezekiel saw in the vision, are still widest upwards, aud spread 
 towards heaven. A full purse, with a lean sold, is a great 
 curse. Many, while lean in their estates, had fat souls; but 
 the fattening of their estates has made their souls as lean as a 
 rake as to good.—(Bunyan’s Righteous Mans Desires , vol. i. 
 p. 745.) 
 
 5 This dialogue is not in the least more absurd and selfish 
 than the discourse of many who now attend on the preaching 
 of the gospel. If worldly lucre be the honey, they imitate the 
 bee, and only attend to religion when they can gain by it; they 
 determine to keep what they have at any rate, and to get 
 
 | more, if it can be done without open scandal.—fScott.) 
 
 i 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 135 
 
 2. Besides, Ins desire after that benefice makes 
 him more studious, a more zealous preacher, &c., 
 and so makes him a better man ; yea, makes him 
 better improve his parts, which is according to the 
 mind of God. 
 
 3. Now, as for his complying with the temper 
 of his people, by dissenting, to serve them, some 
 of his principles, this argueth—(1.) That he is of 
 a self-denying temper. (2.) Of a sweet and win¬ 
 ning deportment. And so (3.) More fit for the 
 ministerial function. 
 
 4. I conclude then, that a minister that changes 
 a small for a great, should not, for so doing, be 
 judged as covetous; but rather, since he 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. 1 
 
 And now to the second part of the question, 
 which concerns the tradesman you mentioned. 
 Suppose such an one to have but a poor employ 
 in the world, but by becoming religious, he may 
 mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, or more, 
 and far better customers to his shop; for my part, 
 I see no reason but that this may be lawfully done. 
 For why— 
 
 1. To become religious is a virtue, by what 
 means soever a man becomes so. 
 
 2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more 
 custom to my shop. 
 
 3. Besides, the man that gets these by becoming 
 religious, gets that which is good, of them that are 
 good, by becoming good himself; so then here is 
 a good wife, and good customers, and good gain, 
 and all these by becoming religious, which is good; 
 therefore, to become religious to get all these, is a 
 good and profitable design. 2 
 
 This answer, thus made by this Mr. Money-love 
 to Mr. By-ends s question, was highly applauded 
 by them all; wherefore they concluded, upon the 
 whole, that it was most wholesome and advan¬ 
 tageous. And because, as they thought, no man 
 was able to contradict it, and because Christian 
 
 There is a fund of satirical humour in the supposed case 
 hei e v cry gravely stated; and if the author, in his accurate 
 observations on mankind, selected his example from among the 
 mercenaries that are the scandal of the Established Church, her 
 most faithful friends will not greatly resent this conduct of a 
 dissenter. (Scott.) Dr. Paley would have done well to have 
 read this chapter in Bunyan before composing some of the 
 chapters in his Moral Philosophy, and his Sermon on the 
 Utility of Distinctions in the Ministry. — (Cheever.) 
 
 Here is worldly wisdom, infernal logic, and the sophistry 
 of Satan. We hear this language daily, from money-loving 
 professors, who arc destitute of the power of faith. But in ! 
 opposition to all this, the lloly Ghost testifies, ‘ The love of 
 money is the root ot all evil,’ 1 Ti. vi. 10, and a covetous ! 
 man is an idolater. Col. iii. 5. Hear this, and tremble, ye 
 avaricious professors. Remember, ye followers of the Lamb, | 
 ye are called to ‘ let your conversation be without covetousness,’ j 
 He. xiu. 5; your Lord testifies, ‘Ye cannot serve God and ' 
 Mammon.’ Lu. xvi. 13.—(Mason.) 
 
 and Hopeful were yet within call, they jointly 
 agreed to assault them with the question as soon 
 as they overtook them; and the rather because 
 they had opposed Mr. By-ends before. So they 
 called after them, and they stopped, and stood still 
 till they came up to them; but they concluded, as 
 they went, that not Mr. By-ends, but old Mr. Ilold- 
 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 re¬ 
 ligion may answer ten thousand such questions. 
 For if it be unlawful to follow Christ for loaves (as 
 it is in the sixth of John), how much more abomin¬ 
 able is it to make of him and religion a stalking- 
 hoise, to get and enjoy the world! 0 Nor do we 
 find any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, 
 and witches, that are of this opinion. 4 
 
 1. Heathens; for when Hamor and Shechem 
 had a mind to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, 
 and saw that there was no ways for them to come 
 at them, but by becoming circumcised; they say 
 to their companions, if every male of us be circum¬ 
 cised, as they are circumcised, shall not their cattle, 
 and their substance, and every beast of theirs, be 
 ours ? Their daughter and their cattle were that 
 which they sought to obtain, and their religion 
 the stalking-horse they made use of to come at 
 them. Beau the whole story, Gen. xxxiv. 20 — 23 . 
 
 2. The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this 
 religion ; long prayers were their pretence ; but to 
 get widows’ houses was their intent; and greater 
 damnation was from God their judgment. Lu. xx. 4 G, 47 . 
 
 3. Judas the devil was also of this religion; he 
 was religious for the bag, that he might be pos¬ 
 sessed 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 
 Peter s mouth was according, Ac. viii. 19 - 22 . 
 
 3 How doth this commend itself to those who make mer¬ 
 chandise of souls. What swarms of such locusts are there iu 
 this day !—(J. B.) 
 
 1 If thou art one who tradeth in both ways: 
 
 God’s now, the devil’s then; or if delays 
 Thou mak’st of coming to thy God for life; 
 
 Or if thy light and lusts are at a strife 
 About who should be master of thy soul. 
 
 And lovest one, the other dost control; 
 
 These prophets tell thee can which way thou bendest, 
 
 On which thou frown’st, to which a hand thou lendest. 
 
 —ffit. i. 16. See vol. ii. p. 582.) 
 
 3 
 
 • 1 * 
 
 ■J 
 
 MW 
 
136 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 t 
 
 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 affirm¬ 
 atively, as I perceive you have done; and to accept 
 of, as authentic, such answer, is both heathenish, | 
 hypocritical, and devilish; and your reward will be 
 according to your works. 1 Then they stood staring 
 one upon another, hut had not wherewith to answer 
 Christian. Hopeful also approved of the soundness 
 of Christian’s answer; so there was a great silence 
 among them. Mr. By-ends and his company also 
 staggered and kept behind, that Christian and 
 Hopeful might outgo them. Then said Christian 
 to his fellow, If these men cannot stand before the 
 sentence of men, what will they do with the sen¬ 
 tence of God ? And if they are mute when dealt 
 with by vessels of clay, what will they do when 
 they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring 
 fire ? 2 
 
 Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, 
 and went till they came at a delicate plain, called 
 The ease that Ease, where they went with much con- 
 [s l f)ut' little m tent; but that plain was but narrow, 
 this life. go they were quickly got over it. Now 
 at the further side of that plain, was a little Hill 
 Lucre Hill, a called Lucre, and in that hill a silver 
 dangerous hill. m } nej w hich some of them that had 
 
 formerly gone that way, because of the rarity of 
 it, had turned aside to see ; but going too near the 
 brink of the pit, the ground being deceitful under 
 them, broke, and they were slain; some also had 
 been maimed there, and could not, to their dying- 
 day, be their own men again. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that a little off the 
 
 1 Banyan, in his Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity , 
 thus addresses such characters: * This is the man that hath the 
 breath of a dragon; he poisons the air round about him. This 
 is the man that slays his children, his kinsmen, his friend, and 
 himself—he that offends God’s little ones. O the millstone 
 that God will shortly hang about your neck, when the time is 
 come that you must be drowned in the sea and deluge of God’s 
 wrath!’— (See vol. ii. p. 530.) The answer of Christian, though 
 somewhat rough, is so conclusive as to fortify every honest 
 mind against all the arguments which the whole tribe of time¬ 
 serving professors ever did, or ever can adduce, in support of 
 their ingenious schemes and insidious efforts to reconcile 
 religion with covetousness and the love of the world, or to 
 render it subservient to their secular interests.— (Scott.) 
 
 2 Here see the blessedness of being mighty in the Scripture, 
 and the need of that exhortation, ‘ Let the Word of Christ 
 dwell in you richly.’ Col. iii. 16. Por the Word of God is 
 quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword; it 
 pierces through all the subtle devices of Satan, and the cunning 
 craftiness of carnal professors; and divideth asunder the carnal 
 reasonings of the flesh, and the spiritual wisdom which corneth 
 from above. 
 
 Teach me, my God and King, 
 
 In all things thee to see. 
 
 And what I do in any thing 
 
 To do it as for thee. —(Mason.) 
 
 road, over against the silver mine, stood Demas 
 
 (gentleman-like) to call to passengers* Demas at the 
 
 to come and see; who said to Christian 
 
 and his fellow, Ho! turn aside hither, 
 
 and I will show you a thing. 3 him. 
 
 Ciir. What thing so deserving as to turn us out 
 of the way to see it ? 
 
 Demas. Here is a silver mine, and some digging 
 in it for treasure. If you will come, with a little 
 pains you may richly provide for yourselves. 
 
 Hope. Then said Hopeful, Let us Hopeful tempt- 
 4 ed to go, but 
 
 gO See. Christian holds 
 
 Chr. Not I, said Christian, I have him back, 
 heard of this place before now ; and how many have 
 there been slain; and besides that, treasure is a 
 snare to those that seek it; for it hindereth them 
 in their pilgrimage. Then Christian called to 
 Demas, saying, Is not the place dangerous ? Hath 
 it not hindered many in their pilgrimage ? Hos. xiv. 8. 
 
 Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those 
 that are careless (but withal, he blushed as he 
 spake). 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not 
 stir a step, but still keep on our way. 
 
 Hope. I will warrant you, when By-ends comes 
 up, if he hath the same invitation as we, he will 
 turn in thither to see. 
 
 Chr. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead 
 him that way, and a hundred to one but he dies 
 there. 
 
 Demas. Then Demas called again, saying, But 
 will you not come over and see ? 
 
 Chr. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, 
 Demas, thou art an enemy to the right Christian 
 ways of the Lord of this way, and r °™dethup 
 hast been already condemned for thine 
 own turning aside, by one of his Majesty’s judges, 
 2 Tim. iv. io; and why seekest thou to bring us into 
 the like condemnation ? Besides, if we at all turn 
 aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof, 
 and will there put us to shame, where we would 
 stand with boldness before him. 
 
 Demas cried again, That he also was one of 
 
 3 The Hill Lucre stands somewhat out of the way , but 
 temptingly near. They that will profit by the mine must turn 
 aside for it. Pr. xxviii. 20, 22. Sir J. Mandeville, in Iris 
 Travels, says, that in the Vale Perilous is plenty of gold and 
 silver, and many Christian men go in for the treasure, but few 
 come out again, for this are strangled of the devil. But good 
 Christian men, that are stable in the faith, enter without peril. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 4 Eve expected some sweet and pleasant sight, that would 
 tickle and delight her deluded fancy; but, behold sin, and the 
 wrath of God, appeal- to the shaking of her heart; and thus, 
 even to this day, doth the devil delude the world. His temp¬ 
 tations are gilded with sweet and tine pretences, that men shall 
 he wiser, richer, more in favour, live merrier, fare better, or 
 something; and by such like tilings the fools are easily allured. 
 But when their eyes are opened, instead of seeing what the 
 devil falsely told them, they see themselves involved in wrath. 
 —(Bunyan on Genesis , vol. ii. p. 431.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 137 
 
 their fraternity; and that if they would tarry a 
 little, he also himself would walk with them. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian, What is thy name ? 
 Is it not the same by the which I have called thee ? 
 
 Demas. Yes, my name is Demas; I am the son 
 of Abraham 
 
 Ciir. I know you; Gehazi was your great-grand¬ 
 father, and Judas your father; and you have trod 
 111 their steps. 2 Ki. v. 20. Mat. xxvi. 14, 15; xxvii. 1 — 5. It 
 is but a devilish prank that thou usest; thy father 
 was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no 
 better reward. Assure thyself, that when we come 
 to the King, we will do him word of this thy be¬ 
 haviour. Thus they went their way. 
 
 By this time By-ends and his companions were 
 come again within sight, and they, at the first beck, 
 By-ends goes went over to Demas. Now, whether 
 over to Demas. they fell into the pit by looking over 
 the brink thereof, or whether they went down to 
 dig, or whether they were smothered in the bottom 
 by the damps that commonly arise, of these things 
 I am not certain; but this I observed, that they 
 never were seen again in the way. * 1 Then sang 
 Christian— 
 
 By-ends and silver Demas both agree; 
 
 One calls, the other runs, that he may be 
 A sharer in his lucre; so these do 
 Take up in this world, and no further go. 
 
 Now I saw that, just on the other side of this 
 plain, the Pilgrims came to a place where stood an 
 They see a monument, hard by the highway 
 ment° e monu ' S1( ^ e > the sight of which they were 
 both concerned, because of the strange¬ 
 ness of the form thereof; for it seemed to them as 
 if it had been a woman transformed into the shape 
 of a pillar; here therefore they stood looking, and 
 looking upon it, but could not for a time tell what 
 they should make thereof. At last Hopeful espied 
 written above the head thereof, a writing in an 
 unusual hand; but he being no scholar, called to 
 Christian (for he was learned) to see if he could 
 pick out the meaning; so he came, and after a 
 little laying of letters together, he found the same 
 to be this, ‘ Remember Lot’s wife.’ So he read it 
 to his fellow; after which they both concluded that 
 that was the pillar of salt into which Lot’s wife 
 
 1 Plere you see the end of double-minded men, who vainly 
 attempt to temper the love of money with the love of Christ. 
 
 I hey go on with their art for a season, but the end makes it 
 
 manifest what they were. Take David’s advice, ‘Fret not thyself 
 because of evil-doers.’ Ps. xxxvii. 1. ‘Be not thou afraid when 
 one is made rich, when the glory of his house is increased.’ 
 Ps. xlix. 16. But go thou into the sanctuary of thy God, read 
 his Word, and understand the end of these men—(Mason.) 
 Often, as the motley reflexes of my experience move in long 
 processions of manifold groups before me, the distinguished 
 and world-honoured company of Christian mammonists appear 
 to the eye of my imagination as a drove of camels heavily 
 laden, yet all at full speed; and each in the confident expectation 
 <>1 passing through the eye of the needle, without stop or halt, 
 both beasts and baggage.—(Coleridge.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 was turned, for her looking back with a covetous 
 heart, when she was going from Sodom for safety, 2 
 Ge. xix. 26; which sudden and amazing sight gave 
 them occasion of this discourse. 
 
 Ciir. Ah, my brother! this is a seasonable sight; 
 it came opportunely to us after the invitation which 
 Demas gave us to come over to view the Hill Lucre; 
 and had we gone over, as he desired us, and as thou 
 wast inclining to do, my brother, we had, for aught 
 I know, been made ourselves like this woman, a spec¬ 
 tacle for those that shall come after to behold. 
 
 Hope. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am 
 made to wonder that I am not now as Lot’s wife; 
 for wherein was the difference betwixt her sin 
 and mine ? She only looked back; and I had a 
 desire to go see. Let grace be adored, and let me 
 be ashamed, that ever such a thing should be in 
 mine heart. 
 
 Ciir. 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 
 w r e see she is turned into a pillar of salt. 
 
 Hope. True, and she may be to us both caution 
 and example ; caution, that we should shun her sin; 
 or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as 
 shall not be prevented by this caution ; so Korah, 
 Dathan, and Abiram, with the two hundred and 
 fifty men that perished in their sin, did also become 
 a sign or example to others to beware. Num. xxvi. 9 , 10 . 
 But above all, I muse at one thing, to writ, how 
 Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently 
 yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman, 
 but for looking behind her, after (for we read not 
 that she stepped one foot out of the way) was turned 
 into a pillar of salt; especially since the judgment 
 which overtook her did make her an example, 
 within sight of where they are; for they cannot 
 choose but see her, did they but lift up their eyes. 
 
 Chr, It is a thing to be wondered at, and it 
 argueth that their hearts are grown desperate in 
 the case; and I cannot tell who to compare them 
 to so fitly, as to them that pick pockets in the 
 presence of the judge, or that will cut purses under 
 the gallows. 3 It is said of the men of Sodom, that 
 they were sinners exceedingly, because they were 
 
 2 I have sometimes wondered at Lot. His wife looked 
 behind her, and died immediately; hut he would not so much 
 as look behind him to see her. We do not read that he did so 
 much as once look where she was, or what was become of her. 
 His heart was set upon his journey; and well it might. There 
 was the mountains before him, and the fire and brimstoue 
 behind him. His life lay at stake; and had he looked behind 
 him he had lost it. Do thou so run, and ‘ remember Lot’s 
 wife.’—(Bunyan’s Heavenly Footman.) 
 
 3 Tn former times, the purse was earned hanging to a girdle 
 round the waist, and great dexterity was requisite to cut and 
 carry it away without the knowledge of the owner. Public 
 executions for theft had so little effect in repressing crime, 
 that thefts were committed in sight of, or even under the 
 gallows.—(E d.) 
 
 18 
 
133 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 sinners before the Lord, that is, in his eyesight, 
 and notwithstanding the kindnesses that he had 
 showed them, Gen. xiii. 13; for the land of Sodom was 
 now like the garden of Eden heretofore. Gen. xiii. 10 . 
 This, therefore, provoked him the more to jealousy, 
 and made their plague as hot as the tire 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 con¬ 
 tinually before them, to caution them to the con¬ 
 trary, must he partakers of severest judgments. 
 
 Hope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth; hut 
 what a mercy is it, that neither thou, hut espe¬ 
 cially I, am not made myself this example! This 
 ministereth occasion to us to thank God, to fear 
 before him, and always to remember Lot’s wife. 1 
 
 I saw, then, that they went on their way to a 
 pleasant river; which David the king 
 called ‘the river of God,’ but John ‘the 
 river of the water of life. ’ 2 Ps. ixv. 9. Re. xxii. Eze. xivii. 
 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: 3 besides, on the banks of this 
 Trees by the river, on either side, were green trees, 
 and 1 '"leaves' U of that bore all manner of fruit; and the 
 the trees. leaves of the trees were good for medi¬ 
 cine ; with the fruit of these trees they were also 
 much delighted ; and the leaves they eat to prevent 
 surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to 
 those that heat their blood by travels. On either 
 side of the river was also a meadow, curiously 
 
 4 . meadow in beautified with lilies, and it was green 
 
 which they lie all the year long. In this meadow 
 down to sleep. ,, , ■, , , , P , 
 
 they lay down, and slept; tor here 
 
 h river. 
 
 1 Alas! poor pilgrims, like Peter, you soon forgot the judg¬ 
 ment, although your sight of Lot’s wife had so affected your 
 spirits. How soon you went into By-path Meadow! ‘ where¬ 
 fore, let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.’ 
 1 Co. x. 12 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 By this river, which is called c a pure river of water of life, 
 clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the 
 Lamb,’ Re. xxii. 1, we may understand clear and comfortable 
 views of God’s everlasting love and electing grace. They 
 could see in it God’s glory shining in the face of Jesus Christ, 
 and view their own faces in it, to their inexpressible joy. This 
 is the river ‘ the streams whereof make glad the city of God.’ 
 Ps. xlvi. 4. The streams which flow from this river of elect¬ 
 ing love, are vocation to Christ, justification by Christ, sancti¬ 
 fication in Christ, perseverance through Christ, glorification 
 with Christ, and all joy and peace in believing on Christ. All 
 this these pilgrims now enjoyed, and all this every fellow- 
 citizen of the saints is called to enjoy in his pilgrimage to Zion. 
 God hath chosen us in Christ, and blessed us with all spiritual 
 blessings in him. 0 how happy, peaceful, and joyful are 
 pilgrims, when the Spirit takes of the things of Christ, shows 
 them to us, and blesses us with a sense of interest in all the 
 love of God, and finished salvation of Jesus!—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Blessed state indeed, hut of short duration! Too often 
 these desirable consolations of the Spirit render the Christian 
 careless and unwatchful.—(Burder.) 
 
 they might lie down safely. When they awoke, they 
 gathered again of the fruit of the trees, and drank 
 again of the water of the river, and then lay down 
 again to sleep. Ps. xxiii. 2. is. xiv. 30. Thus they did 
 several days and nights. 4 Then they sang— 
 
 Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide. 
 
 To comfort pilgrims by the highway side; 
 
 The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell, 
 Yield dainties for them: and he that can tell 
 What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, 
 Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field. 
 
 So when they were disposed to go on (for they 
 were not, as yet, at their journey’s end), they ate 
 and drank, and departed. 5 
 
 Now, I beheld in my dream, that they had not 
 journeyed far, but the river and the way for a time 
 parted; at which they were not a little sorry; yet 
 they durst not go out of the way. Now the way 
 from the river was rough, and their feet tender, by 
 reason of their travels; ‘ so the souls of the pil¬ 
 grims were much discouraged because of the way. ’ 
 No. xxi. 4. Wherefore, still as they went on, they 
 wished for better way. 6 Now, a little before them, 
 there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, 
 and a stile to go over into it; and that meadow is 
 called By-path Meadow. Then said 
 Christian to his fellow, If this meadow 
 lieth along by our way-side, let us go over into it. 7 
 Then he went to the stile to see, and 0ne temptation 
 behold, a path lay along by the way, does make way 
 on the other side of the fence. It is f ° r anothe1, 
 according to my wish, said Christian. Here is 
 the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let us 
 go over. 
 
 By-path Meadow. 
 
 4 A scene to soothe and calm a mind fretted and harassed 
 with the cares and turmoils of this every-day world; a sunny 
 vista into the future, welcome in a weary hour to the worn 
 spirit, which longs, as for the wings of the dove, that it may 
 flee away, and be at rest; a glimpse of Sabbath quietness on 
 earth, given as a pledge and foretaste of the more glorious and 
 eternal Sabbath of heaven.—(Bernard Barton.) 
 
 6 Now had I an evidence, as I thought, of my salvation 
 from heaven, with many golden seals thereon, all hanging in 
 my sight. Now could I remember the manifestations of grace 
 with comfort; and longed that the last day were come, that I 
 might for ever be inflamed with the sight, and joy, and com¬ 
 munion with him, whose soul was made an offering for my sins. 
 Before this I lay trembling at the mouth of hell; now I had 
 got so far therefrom that I could scarce discern it. O, thought 
 I, that I were fourscore years old, that I might die quickly, 
 and my soul be gone to rest.—( Grace Abounding , No. 128.) 
 
 6 They shoidd have said, It is true this way is not so plea¬ 
 sant as the meadow, but it is the Lord’s way, and the best, 
 doubtless, for us to travel in. A man speedily enters into 
 temptation when he becomes discontented with God’s allot¬ 
 ments; then Satan presents allurements, and from wishing for 
 a better way, the sold goes into a worse. The discontented 
 wish is father to a sinful will; I wish for a better is followed 
 by, I will have a better , and so the soul goes astray.—(Cheever.) 
 
 7 The transition into the by-path is easy, for it lies close to 
 the right way; only you must get over a stile, that is, you 
 must quit Christ’s imputed righteousness, and trust in your 
 own inherent righteousness; and then you are in By-path 
 Meadow directly.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 139 
 
 IIorE. But how if this path should lead us out 
 of the way ? 1 
 
 Chr. That is not like, said the other. Look, 
 strong Chris- doth it not go along by the way-side ? 
 S3 ones'out So Hopeful, being persuaded by his 
 of the way. fellow, went after him over the stile. 
 When they were gone over, and were got into the 
 path, they found it very easy for their feet; and 
 withal, they, looking before them, espied a man 
 walking as they did (and his name was Vain-con- 
 fidence); so they called after him, and asked him 
 See what it is whither that way led. He said, To 
 too suddenly to Q e l e sti a l Gate. 2 Look, said Chris- 
 
 strangers. tian, no ^ J ^ell y 0U so | gy this 
 
 you may see we are right. So they followed, and 
 he went before them. But, behold, the night came 
 on, and it grew very dark; so that they that were 
 behind, lost the sight of him that went before. 
 
 He, therefore, that went before 3 (Vain-confidence 
 by name), not seeing the way before him, fell into 
 
 A pit to catch a dee P P H » Is - ix - 16 > which was on P ur ' 
 the vain-giori- pose there made, by the Prince of those 
 
 grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools 
 
 withal, and was dashed in pieces with his fall. 4 
 
 Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So 
 
 they called to know the matter, but there was 
 
 none to answer; only they heard a groaning. Then 
 
 Reasoning he- said Hopeful, Where are we now ? 
 
 tianandHope"- Then was his fellow silent, as mistrust- 
 
 ful - ing that he had led him out of the 
 
 way; and now it began to rain, and thunder, and 
 
 lighten 5 in a very dreadful manner; and the water 
 
 rose amain. 6 
 
 1 The best caution I can give to others, or take myself, is, 
 uot to he guided in matters of faith by men, but to make the 
 Scriptures our only rule—to look to God for the teaching of 
 his blessed Spirit, that he may keep our feet from the ways of 
 death.—(J. B.) 
 
 3 ‘There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end 
 thereof are the ways of death.’ Pr. xiv. 12. Vain confidence 
 is this very way. 0 how easy do professors get into it! yea, 
 real pilgrims are prone also to take up with it, owing to that 
 legality, pride, and self-righteousness, which work in their fallen 
 nature. See the end of it, and tremble; for it leads to darkness, 
 and ends in death. Lord, humble our proud hearts, and empty 
 us of self-righteousness, pride, and vain confidence.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 So, sometimes, real pilgrims take counsel and example of 
 strangers, of worldly men, and of presumptuous careless per¬ 
 sons. Vain confidence is a sad guide anywhere, but especially 
 when one has wandered out of the way.—(Cheever.) 
 
 4 If thou be prying into God’s secret decrees, or entertain 
 questions about nice curiosities, thou mayest stumble and fall 
 to thine eternal ruin. Take heed of that lofty spirit, that, 
 devil-like, cannot be content with its own station .—{Heavenly 
 Footman.) 
 
 6 The thunder and lightning plainly show that this by-path 
 leads to Sinai, not to Zion. One step over the stile, by giving 
 way to a self-righteous spirit, and you enter the territories of 
 despair.—(J. B.) 
 
 3 How varied is the experience of a Christian ! he had just 
 before overcome Demas, and conquered By-ends and his com¬ 
 panions ; is warned by Lot’s wife, and now elated with the 
 strength of his principles ; boldness takes the place of caution; 
 he ventures upon an easier path, and is involved in misery. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, 0 that 
 I had kept on my way! 
 
 Chr. Who could have thought that this path 
 should have led us out of the way ? 
 
 Hope. I was afraid on it at the very first, and 
 therefore gave you that gentle caution. I would 
 have spoke plainer, but that you are older than I. 7 
 
 Chr. Good brother, be not offended ; I am sorry 
 I have brought thee out of the way, and _. 4 . , 
 
 . 0 . ... Christian’s re- 
 
 that 1 have put thee into such immi- pentance for 
 
 nent danger; pray, my brother,forgive brother out of 
 
 me; I did not do it of an evil intent. 8 thewa y- 
 
 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 us try 
 to go back again. 
 
 Hope. But, good brother, let me go before. 
 
 Chr. No, if you please, let me go first, that if 
 there be any danger, I may be first therein, because 
 by my means we are both gone out of the way. 
 
 Hope. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first; 
 for your mind being troubled may lead you out of 
 the way again. Then, for their encouragement, 
 they heard the voice of one saying, ‘ Set thine 
 heart toward the highway, even the way which 
 thou wentest; turn again.’ Je. xxxi. 21 . But by this 
 time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of 
 which the way of going back was very dangerous. 
 (Then I thought that it is easier going out of the 
 way when we are in, than going in when we are 
 out.) Yet they adventured to go back, They are in 
 but it was so dark, and the flood was downing al 
 so high, that in their going back they the y s° ^ ack - 
 had like to have been drowned nine or ten times. 3 9 
 
 Neither could they, with all the skill they had, 
 get again to the stile that night. Wherefore, at 
 last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down 
 there until the day-break; but, being weary, they 
 fell asleep. Now there was, not far , 
 
 1 ’ They sleep in 
 
 from the place where they lay, a castle, the grounds of 
 
 called Doubting Castle, the owner Giaut 
 
 whereof was Giant Despair ; 10 and it was in his 
 
 7 When Bunyan pleaded, so energetically, for the communion 
 of saints, irrespective of water-baptism, one of his arguments 
 was, * The strongest may sometimes be out of the way.’ ‘ Re¬ 
 ceive ye one another as Christ also received us.’—(Vol.ii.p. 610.) 
 
 8 Here see, that as Christians are made helpful, so also, 
 through prevailing corruptions, they are liable to prove hurtful 
 to each other. But observe how grace works : it humbles, it 
 makes the soul confess and be sorry for its misfortunes. Here 
 is no reviling one another; but a tender sympathy and feeliug 
 concern for each other. O the mighty power of that grace 
 and truth which came by Jesus Christ! How does it cement 
 souls in the fellowship of love!—(Mason.) 
 
 9 How easy it is to trace the path that led the pilgrims 
 astray 1 To avoid the roughness of the way, they entered the 
 by-path, that by measures of carnal policy they might avoid 
 afflictions. Guided by Vain-confidence, they were led from the 
 road, and when this Vain-confidence was destroyed, they were 
 involved in distress and danger.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 10 The personification of Despair is one of the most instruc- 
 
140 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 grounds they now were sleeping: wherefore he, 
 getting up in the morning early, and walking up 
 „ _ . and down in his fields, caught Chris- 
 
 He finds them _ 1 
 
 in his ground, tian and Hopeful asleep m his grounds. 
 
 them to Doubt- Then, with a grim and suily voice, 
 ing Castle. p e 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. * 1 They also had hut 
 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 
 ness of their dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to 
 imprisonment. spirits of these two men. Ps. lxxxviii. 18. 
 
 Here then they lay from Wednesday morning till 
 Saturday night, without one hit of bread, or drop 
 of drink, or light, or any to ask how they did; they 
 were therefore here in evil case, and were far from 
 friends and acquaintance. Now in this place Chris¬ 
 tian had double sorrow, 2 because it was through 
 his unadvised counsel that they were brought into 
 this distress. 3 
 
 tive and beautiful portions of Bunyan’s allegory. It appeals 
 either to every mau’s experience, or to every man’s sense of 
 what may come upon him, on account of sin. It is at once, in 
 some respects, the very gloomiest and very brightest part of the 
 ‘ Pilgrim’s Progressfor it shows at once to what a depth of 
 misery sin may plunge the Christian, and also to what a depth 
 the mercy of God in Christ may reach. The colouring of the 
 picture is extremely vivid, the remembrance of it can never 
 pass from the mind; and, as in a gallery of beautiful paintings, 
 there may often be one that so strongly reminds you of your 
 own experience, or that in itself is so remarkably beautiful as 
 to keep you dwelling upon it with unabated interest; so it is 
 with this delineation of Giant Despair, among the many admir¬ 
 able sketches of Bunyan’s piety and genius. It is so full of 
 deep life and meaning that you cannot exhaust it, and it is of 
 such exquisite propriety and beauty that you are never tired 
 with examining it.—(Cheever.) 
 
 1 Sooner or later Doubting Castle will be the prison, and 
 Giant Despair the keeper of all those who turn aside from 
 Christ and his righteousness, to trust in any wise in themselves, 
 and to their righteousness. ‘Our God is a jealous God,’ ever 
 jealous of his own glory, and of the honour of his beloved Son. 
 —(Mason.) So under the old cut, illustrating the Pilgrims in 
 Doubting Castle, are these lines:— 
 
 * The pilgrims now, to gratify the flesh, 
 
 Will seek its ease; but 0! how they afresh 
 Do thereby plunge themselves new griefs into! 
 Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo.’ 
 
 2 Blessed sorrow! how many are there who never tasted 
 the bread of heaven, nor the water of life from the wells of 
 salvation; who are strangers to the communion of saints, but 
 do not feel themselves to be ‘ in evil case,’ nor have wept under 
 a sense of their wretched state.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 What 1 such highly-favoured Christians in Doubting 
 Castle ? After having travelled so far in the way of salvation, 
 seen so many glorious things in the way, experienced so much 
 of the grace and love of their Lord, and having so often proved 
 his faithfulness ? Is not this strange ? No ; it is common— 
 the strongest Christians are liable to err and get out of the way, 
 and then to be beset with very great and distressing doubts.— 
 (Mason.) Despair, like a tremendous giaut, will at last seize on 
 
 Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name 
 was Diffidence. 4 So, when he was gone to bed, he 
 told his wife what he had done ; to wit, that he 
 had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them 
 into his dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. 
 Then he asked her also what he had best to do fur¬ 
 ther to them. So she asked him what they were, 
 whence they came, and whither they were hound; 
 and he told her. Then she counselled him, that 
 when he arose in the morning he should heat them 
 without any mercy. So, when he arose, he getteth 
 him a grievous crah-tree cudgel, and goes down 
 into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to 
 rating of them as if they were dogs, although they 
 never gave him a word of distaste. Then he falls 
 
 upon them, and beats them fearfully, On Thursday, 
 
 . , . ,, , ,i , 1 ] Giant Despair 
 
 in such sort, that they were not able beats his pn- 
 to help themselves, or to turn them soners - 
 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 hitter lamenta¬ 
 tions. The next night, she, talking with her hus¬ 
 band 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 he very sore with the 
 stripes that he had given them the day before, he 
 told them, that since they were never like to come 
 
 out of that place, their only way would 0 nFriday,Giant 
 be forthwith to make an end of them- Despair coun¬ 
 selves, either with knife, halter, or kin ^^Lem- 
 poison, for why, said he, should you selves- 
 choose life, seeing it is attended with so much 
 bitterness ? 5 But they desired him to let them 
 
 tbe souls of all unbelievers; and when Christians conclude, from 
 some misconduct, that they belong to that company, they are 
 exposed to be taken captive by him. They do not, indeed, fall 
 and perish with Vain-confidence; but for a season they find it 
 impossible to rise superior to prevailing gloomy doubts bor¬ 
 dering on despair, or to obtain the least comfortable hope of 
 deliverance, or encouragement to use the proper means of 
 seeking it.—(Scott.) 
 
 4 The wife of Despair is Diffidence, or a distrust of God’s 
 faithfulness, and a want of confidence in his mercy. When a 
 Christian follows such counsels, gloom and horror of mind will 
 be produced, and life become a burden.— (Ivimey.) 
 
 3 Bunyan, in one of his delightful treatises of comfort 
 against despair, introduces the following striking colloquy:— 
 ‘ Says Satan, Dost thou not know that thou art one of the 
 vilest in all the pack of professors ? Yes, says the soul, I do. 
 Says Satan, Dost thou not know that thou hast horribly sinned ? 
 Yes, says the soul, I do. Well, saith Satan, now will I come 
 upon thee with my appeals. Art thou not a graceless wretch ? 
 Yes. Hast thou an heart to be sorry for this wickedness ? 
 No, not as I should. And albeit, saith Satan, thou prayest 
 sometimes, yet is not thy heart possessed with a belief that 
 God will not regard thee ? Yes, says the sinner. Why, then, 
 despair, and go hang thyself, saith the devil. And now we 
 are at the end of the thing designed and driven at by Satan. 
 But what shall I now do, saith the sinner ? I answer, take up 
 the words of the text against him, ‘ That ye may be able to 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 141 
 
 go. With that lie looked ugly upon them, and, 
 nishing to them, had doubtless made an end of 
 them himself, but that he fell into one of his fits 
 
 TheGiant some- (for he sometimes, in sunshiny weather, 
 
 times has lits. f e ]J j n ^ 0 anc J l os t f or a t j me ^he 
 
 use of his hand ; wherefore he withdrew, and left 
 them as before, to consider what to do. Then did 
 the prisoners consult between themselves, whether 
 it was best to take his counsel or no; and thus 
 they began to discourse: 
 
 Ciir. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do ? 
 
 Christian The life that we now live is miserable. 
 
 crushed. p or m y p artj j fc now not whether is 
 
 best, to live thus, or to die out of hand. * My soul 
 chooseth strangling rather than life, ’ and the grave 
 is more easy for me than this dungeon. Jobvii. 15. 
 Shall we be ruled by the Giant ? * 2 
 
 Hope. Indeed, our present condition is dreadful, 
 Hopeful com- and death would be far more welcome 
 to me than thus for ever to abide; 
 but yet, let us consider, the Lord of the country 
 to which we are going hath said, Thou shalt do 
 no murder: no, not to another man’s person ; much 
 more, then, are we forbidden to take his counsel 
 to kill ourselves. Besides, he that kills another, 
 can but commit murder upon his body; but for one 
 to kill himself, is to kill body and soul at once. 
 And, moreover, my brother, thou talkest of ease 
 in the grave; but hast thou forgotten the hell, 
 whither for certain the murderers go ? For ‘ no 
 murderer hath eternal life,’ &c . 3 And let us 
 
 comprehend the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; 
 and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.’— 
 (Saints' Knowledge of Christ's Love, vol. ii. p. 37.) 
 
 1 Giant Despair, it seems, has fits in sunshiny weather; that 
 is, a gleam of hope, from Christ the Sun of righteousness, 
 sometimes darted into their minds.—(Burder.) 
 
 2 Satan and his angels will not be wanting to help forward 
 the calamity of the man, who, in coming to Christ, is beat out 
 of breath, out of heart, out of courage, by wind that blows him 
 backward. They will not be wanting to throw up his heels in 
 their dirty places, nor to trouble his head with the fumes of 
 their foul breath. And now it is hard coming to God; Satan 
 has the art of making the most of every sin; he can make every 
 hair on the head as big as a cedar. But, soul, Christ can save 
 unto the uttermost! come, man, come. He can do exceeding 
 abundantly above all we can ask or think.’—(Bunyan’s Complete 
 Saviour, vol. i. p. 209.) Poor Christian! what 1 tempted to 
 destroy thyself? Lord, what is man! But see, despairing 
 souls, mark the truth of that word, ‘ There hath no temptation 
 taken you but such as is common to man; but God is faithful, 
 who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; 
 but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that 
 ye may be able to bear it.’ 1 Co. x. 13.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Bunyan had an acute sense of the exceeding sinfulfiess of 
 sin, aud no saint had suffered more severely from despair. 
 One of his great objects, in most of his works, is to arm poor 
 pilgrims against desponding fears. Thus, in his first treatise 
 on Gospel Truths —* He (the devil) will be sure to present to 
 thy conscience the most sad sentences of the Scripture; yea, 
 and set them home with such cunning arguments, that if it 
 be possible he will make thee despair, and make away thyself 
 as did Judas.’—(Vol. ii. p. 132.) Sin, when seen in its colours, 
 and when appearing in its monstrous shape and hue, frighteth 
 all mortals out of their wits, away from God, and, if he stops 
 
 consider, again, that all the law is not in the hand 
 of Giant Despair. Others, so far as I can under¬ 
 stand, have been taken by him, as well as we ; and 
 yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knows, hut 
 that God that made the world may cause that 
 Giant Despair may die ? or that, at some time or 
 other, he may forget to lock us in? or that he may, 
 in a short time, have another of his fits before us, 
 and may lose the use of his limbs ? and if ever 
 that should come to pass again, for my part, I am 
 resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to 
 try my utmost to get from under his hand. I was 
 a fool that I did not try to do it before; but, how¬ 
 ever, my brother, let us be patient, and endure a 
 while. The time may come that may give us 
 a happy release; but let us not be our own mur¬ 
 derers. 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. 4 
 
 Well, towards evening, the Giant goes down into 
 the dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken 
 his counsel; but when he came there, he found 
 them alive ; and truly, alive was all; for now, what 
 for want of bread and water, and by reason of the 
 wounds they received when he beat them, they 
 could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found 
 them alive; at which he fell into a grievous rage, 
 and told them, that seeing they had disobeyed his 
 counsel, it should be worse with them than if they 
 had never been born. 
 
 At this they trembled greatly, 5 and I think that 
 Christian fell into a swoon; 6 but, coming a little to 
 himself again, they renewed their discourse about 
 the Giant’s counsel, and whether yet they had best 
 to take it or no. Now Christian again seemed to 
 be for doing it, 7 but Hopeful made his Christian 8tiU 
 second reply as folioweth: — dejected. 
 
 them, not, also out of the world. This is manifest by Cain, 
 
 Judas, Saul, and others. They fly from before God, one to 
 
 one fruit of despair, and one to another.— (Pharisee and Pub¬ 
 lican, vol. ii. p. 260.) 
 
 4 An admirable chain of reasoning, pointing out the evils 
 of despair, is to be found in the Jerusalem Sinner Saved, vol. i. 
 pp. 91, 92, under the head Fifthly . ‘ It will make a man his 
 
 own tormentor, and flounce and fling like a wild bull in a 
 net. Is. Ii. 20. Despair! it drives a man to the study of his 
 own ruin, and brings him at last to be his own executioner.’ 
 2 Sa. xvii. 23. Mat. xxvii. 3-5 .—(Ed.) 
 
 6 Alas, how chang’d ! Expressive of his mind. 
 
 His eyes are sunk, arms folded, head reclin’d; 
 
 Those awful syllables, hell, death, and sin. 
 
 Though whisper’d, plainly tell what works within. 
 
 —(Cowper’s Hope.) 
 
 ‘ A wounded spirit who can bear ? ’ 
 
 6 To bring the state of Christian’s mind before us, read 
 the lamentations of the Psalmist, when he was a prisoner in 
 Doubting Castle, under Giant Despair, in Ps. lxxxviii.; and 
 Bunyau’s experience, as narrated in No. 163 of Grace Abound¬ 
 ing. Despair swallowed him up, and that passage fell like a hot 
 thunderbolt upon his conscience, ‘ He was rejected, for he found 
 no place for repentance.’—(Ivimey.) 
 
 7 Dr. Donne, the celebrated Dean of St. Paul’s, had recently 
 
142 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Hopeful com¬ 
 forts him again, 
 by calling for¬ 
 mer things to 
 remembrance. 
 
 Hope. My brother, said he, rememberest thou 
 not how valiant thou hast been hereto¬ 
 fore ? Apollyon could not crush thee, 
 nor could all that thou didst hear, 
 or see, or feel, in the Valley of the 
 Shadow of Death. What hardship, terror, and 
 amazement hast thou already gone through ! And 
 art thou now nothing but 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 off 
 the bread and water from my mouth ; and with thee 
 I mourn without the li ofht. But let us exercise a 
 
 O 
 
 little more patience ; remember how thou playedst 
 the man at Vanity Bair, 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. 1 * 
 
 Now, night being come again, and the Giant and 
 his wife being in bed, she asked him concerning 
 the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel. 
 To which he replied, They are sturdy rogues, they 
 choose rather to bear all 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 
 despatched, and make them believe, ere a week 
 comes to an end, thou also wilt tear them in 
 pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before 
 tliern.^ 
 
 published a thesis, to prove that suicide, under some circum¬ 
 stances, was justifiable. Hopeful answers all his arguments, 
 and proves it to be the foulest of murders. Bunyan, in his 
 treatise on Justification , vol. i. p. 314, thus notices the jailer’s 
 intent to commit suicide, when the doors of the prison in which 
 Paul was confined were thrown open:—‘ Even now, while the 
 earthquake shook the prison, he had murder in his heart— 
 murder, I say, and that of a high nature, even to have killed 
 his own body and soul at once.’— (Ed.) 
 
 1 Here is the blessing of a hopeful companion; here is 
 excellent counsel. Let vain professors say what they may 
 against looking back to past experiences, it is most certainly 
 good and right so to do; not to encourage present sloth and 
 presumption, but to excite fresh confideuce of hope in the 
 Lord. We have David’s example, and Paul’s w'ord to encourage 
 us to this, ‘ The Lord that delivered me out of the paw of the 
 lion, and out of the paw of the bear, he will deliver me out of 
 the hand of this Philistine,’ 1 Sa. xvii. 37; and says Paul, 
 * We had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should 
 not trust in ourselves, but in God which raiseth the dead.’ 
 2 Co. i. 9.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 It is a curious picture which Bunyan has drawn of the 
 intercourse between the giant and his wife Diffidence. They 
 form a very loving couple in their way; and the giant takes 
 no new step in the treatment of the pilgrims without consult¬ 
 ing Mrs. Diffidence over night, so that the curtain lectures to 
 which we listen are very curious. But Mrs. Diffidence ought 
 rather to have been called Dame Desperation, or Desperate 
 Resolution; for she seems, if anything, the more stubborn 
 genius of the two.—(Cheever.) By these conversations be¬ 
 tween Diffidence and Despair, after they had retired to bed, 
 Bunyan perhaps designed to intimate that, as melancholy per¬ 
 sons seldom get rest at night, the gloominess of the season 
 contributes to the distress of their minds. So Asaph com- 
 
 So when the morning was come, tlie Giant goes 
 to them again, and takes them into the castle- 
 yard, and shows them, as his wife had bidden him. 
 These, said he, were pilgrims as you 
 
 ’ 1 ° . . On Saturday, 
 
 are, once, and they trespassed in my the Giant 
 
 grounds, as you have done ; and when thatSfr he 
 
 I thought fit, I tore them in pieces, would pull 
 
 ° . x -n i thenun 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 lamentable 
 case, as before. 3 Now, when night was come, and 
 when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband, the Giant, 
 were got to bed, they began to renew their dis¬ 
 course of their prisoners ; and withal the old Giant 
 wondered, that he could neither by his blows nor 
 his counsel bring them to an end. And with that 
 his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in 
 hope that some will come to relieve them, or that 
 they have picklocks about them, by the means of 
 which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, 
 my dear ? said the Giant; I will, therefore, search 
 them in the morning. 
 
 Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they began 
 to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break 
 of day. 4 
 
 Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, 
 as one half-amazed, brake out in this passionate 
 speech: What a fool, quoth he, am 
 
 T ,i , i. ,. . . •. A key in Chris- 
 
 1 , thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, tian’s bosom. 
 
 when I may as well walk at liberty ! ^“5 
 
 I have a key in my bosom, called Pro- 
 
 mise, that will, I am persuaded, open 
 
 any lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, 
 
 That is good news, good brother; pluck it out of 
 
 thy bosom, and try. 5 6 
 
 plains: * My sore ran in the night, and ceased not: my soul 
 
 refused to be comforted.’ Ps. lxxvii. 2.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 How would the awful lesson of the man in the iron cage, 
 at the Interpreter’s house, now recur to poor Christian’s mmd: 
 ‘ I cannot get out, 0 now I cannot I I left off to watch, and 
 am shut up in this iron cage, nor can all the men in the world 
 let me out.’ Christian’s answer to the despairing pilgrim now 
 soon broke upon his memory: ‘ The Son of the Blessed is very 
 pitiful.’— (Ed.) 
 
 4 What! Pray in the custody of Giant Despair, in the 
 midst of Doubting Castle, and when their own folly brought 
 them there too ? Yes; mind this, ye pilgrims, ye are exhorted, 
 
 ‘ I will that men pray everywhere, without doubting.’ 1 Ti. 
 ii. 8. We can be in no place but God can hear, nor in any 
 circumstance but God is able to deliver us from. And be 
 assured, that when the spirit of prayer comes, deliverance is 
 nigh at hand.—(Mason.) Perhaps the author selected Satur¬ 
 day at midnight for the precise time when the prisoners began 
 to pray, in order to intimate that the preparation for the Lord’s 
 day, which serious persons are reminded to make for its sacred 
 services, are often the happy means of recovering those that 
 have fallen into sin and despondency.—(Scott.) 
 
 6 All at once, by a new revelation, which none but the Sa¬ 
 viour could make, Christian finds the promises. Christ had 
 been watching over his erring disciples—he kept back the 
 hand of Despair from destroying them—he binds up the 
 broken heart, and healeth all their wounds.—(Cheever.) As 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 143 
 
 Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and 
 began to try at the dungeon door, whose bolt (as 
 he turned the key) gave back, and the door flew 
 open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both 
 came out. Then he went to the outward door that 
 leads into the castle-yard, and, with his key, opened 
 that door also. After, he went to the iron gate, 
 for that must be opened too; but that lock went 
 damnable hard , * 1 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 . 2 Then they went on, 
 and came to the King’s highway, and so were safe, 
 because they were out of his jurisdiction . 3 
 
 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 hands of Giant Despair . 4 
 
 a key enters all the intricate wards of a lock, and throws back 
 its bolts, so the precious promises of God in his Word, if 
 turned by the strong hand of faith, will open all the doors 
 which uubelief and despair have shut upon us.—(Burder.) 
 
 1 Buuyan was a plain-spoken man, and feared not to offend 
 delicate ears when truth required honest dealing. In. his trea¬ 
 tise on the Law and Grace , he says: * And therefore, my 
 brethren, seeing God, our Father, hath sent us, damnable trai¬ 
 tors, a pardon from heaven, even all the promises of the gospel, 
 and hath also sealed to the certainty of it with the heart-blood 
 of his dear Son, let us not be daunted.—(Yol. i. p. 562.) 
 
 2 Precious promise! The promises of God in Christ are 
 the life of faith, and the quickeners of prayer. 0 how oft do 
 we neglect God’s great and precious promises in Christ Jesus, 
 while doubts and despair keep us prisoners! So it was with 
 these pilgrims; they were kept under hard bondage of soul for 
 four days. Hence see what it is to grieve the Spirit of God; 
 for he only is the Comforter: and if he withdraws his influ¬ 
 ences, who or what can comfort us? Though precious pro¬ 
 mises are revealed in the Word, yet we can get no comfort 
 from them but by the grace of the Spirit.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 It was Sabbath morning. The sun was breaking over 
 the hills, and fell upon their pale, haggard countenances. It 
 was to them a new creation; they breathed the fresh, reviving 
 air, and brushed, with hasty steps, the dew from the untrodden 
 grass, and fled the nearest way to the stile, over which they 
 had wandered. They had learned a lesson by suffering, which 
 nothing else could have taught them, and which would remain 
 with them to the day of their death.—(Cheever.) The expe¬ 
 rience of these ‘three or four’ dreadful days is specially re¬ 
 corded in Grace Abounding, Nos. 261-263. The key which 
 opened the doors in Doubting Castle was these words, applied 
 with power to his soul, ‘I must go to Jesus,’ in connection 
 with He. xii. 22-24. Of the first night of his deliverance he 
 says, ‘ I could scarcely lie in my bed for joy and peace, and 
 triumph through Christ.*—(E d.) 
 
 4 Ihey tell to devising what soldiers, and how many, Diabolus 
 should go against Mansoul with, to take it; and after some 
 debate, it was concluded that none were more fit for that expe¬ 
 dition than an army of terrible doubters. They therefore 
 concluded to send against Mansoul an army of sturdy doubters. 
 Diabolus was to beat up his drum for twenty or thirty thou¬ 
 sand men in the Land of Doubting, which land lieth upon the 
 confines of a place called Hell-gate Hill. Captain Rage was 
 over the election doubters; his were the red colours; his stand- 
 
 aid-bearer was Mr. Destructive; and the great red dragon 
 
 he had for his scutcheon. Captain Fury was over the vocation 
 
 So they consented to erect there a pillar, and to 
 engrave upon the side thereof this 
 sentence—‘ Over this stile is the way '^Christian 
 to Doubting Castle, which is kept by and hls fellow - 
 Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the 
 Celestial Country, and seeks to destroy his holy 
 pilgrims.’ Many, therefore, that followed after, 
 read what was written, and escaped the danger. 
 This done, they sang as follows:— 
 
 Out of the way we went, and then we found 
 What ’twas to tread upon forbidden ground; 
 
 And let them that come after have a care. 
 
 Lest heedlessness makes them, as we, to fare. 
 
 Lest they for trespassing his prisoners are. 
 
 Whose castle’s Doubting, and whose name’s Despair. 
 
 They went then till they came to the Delect¬ 
 able Mountains, which mountains be- The Delectable 
 long to the Lord of that hill of which Mountains. 
 
 we have spoken before; so they went up to the 
 mountains, to behold the gardens and orchards, 
 the vineyards and fountains of water; where also 
 
 they drank and washed themselves, They are refreshed 
 and did freely eat of the vineyards. 5 in the mountains. 
 
 Now there were on the tops of these mountains, 
 shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by 
 the highway side. The Pilgrims therefore went 
 to them, and leaning upon their staves (as is com¬ 
 mon with weary pilgrims, when they stand to talk 
 
 with any by the way), they asked. Talk with the 
 Whose Delectable Mountains are Shepherds. 
 
 these ? And whose be the sheep that feed upon 
 them ? 
 
 Shep. These mountains are Immanuel’s Land, 
 and they are within sight of his city; and the 
 sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for 
 them. Jn. x. li. 
 
 Chr. Is this the way to the Celestial City ? 
 
 Shep. You are just in your way. 
 
 Chr. How far is it thither ? 
 
 Shep. Too far for any but those that shall get 
 thither indeed. 
 
 Chr. Is the way safe or dangerous ? 
 
 Shep. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe; 
 
 ‘ hut the transgressors shall fall therein.’ 6 Ho.xiv.9. 
 
 doubters; his standard-bearer was darkness; his colours were 
 pale; and his scutcheon the fiery flying serpent. Captain Dam¬ 
 nation was over the grace doubters; his were the red colours; 
 Mr. No-life bore them; his scutcheon was the Black Den, &c. 
 —{Holy War.) 
 
 6 When offending Christians are brought to deep repent¬ 
 ance, renewed exercises of lively faith, aud willing obedience 
 in those self-denying duties which they had declined, the Lord 
 ‘ restores to them the joy of his salvation,’ and their former 
 comforts become more abundant and permanent. The Delect¬ 
 able Mountains seem intended to represent those calm seasons 
 of peace and comfort.—(Scott.) 
 
 0 O how many professors grow weary of the way, fall short, 
 and fail of coming to the end! Though the way be too far, 
 too strait, and too narrow for many who set out, and never 
 hold out to the end; yet all who are begotten by the Word of 
 grace, and born of the Spirit of truth, shall persevere to the 
 
144 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Chr. Is there, in this place, any relief for pil¬ 
 grims that are weary and faint in the way ? 
 
 Shep. The Lord of these mountains hath given 
 
 us a charge not to he ‘ forgetful to entertain 
 strangers,’ He. xffi. 2; therefore the good of the place 
 is before you. 
 
 I saw also in my dream, that when the Shep¬ 
 herds perceived that they were wayfaring men, 
 they also put questions to them, to which they 
 made answer as in other places ; as, Whence came 
 you ? And, How got you into the way ? And, 
 By what means have you so persevered therein ? 
 For but few of them that begin to come hither, do 
 show their face on these mountains. But when 
 the Shepherds heard their answers, being pleased 
 therewith, they looked very lovingly upon them, 
 
 The Shepherds and said, Welcome to the Delectable 
 welcome them. Mountains. * 1 
 
 The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Know- 
 
 The names of ledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sin- 
 the Shepherds. cere> took them by the hand, and had 
 
 them to their tents, and made them partake of that 
 which was ready at present. 2 3 They said, more¬ 
 over, We would that ye should stay here a while, 
 to be acquainted with us; and yet more to solace 
 yourselves with the good of these Delectable 
 Mountains. They then told them that they were 
 content to stay; so they went to their rest that 
 night, because it was very late. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning 
 the Shepherds called up Christian and Hopeful to 
 walk with them upon the mountains: so they went 
 forth with them, and walked a while, having a 
 pleasant prospect on every side. Then said the 
 They are sure3 Shepherds one to another, Shall we 
 
 wonders. show these Pilgrims some wonders ? 
 
 So when they had concluded to do it, they had 
 The Mountain them first to the top of a hill called 
 of Error. Error, which was very steep on the 
 furthest side, and bid them look down to the bot- 
 
 end, being kept by the mighty power of God, through faith, 
 unto eternal salvation. 1 Pe. i. 5. —(Mason.) 
 
 1 There is in this laconic description of the homely dreamer 
 a richness of beauty which no efforts of the artist can ade¬ 
 quately portray; and in the concise dialogue of the speakers, a 
 simple sublimity of eloquence which any commentary could 
 only weaken. While our feelings are excited by this descrip¬ 
 tion, we cannot but remember that ‘ eye hath not seen, nor 
 ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the 
 things which God hath prepared for them that love him.— 
 (Bernard Barton.) 
 
 2 Precious names! What is a pilgrim without knowledge ? 
 What is head-knowledge without heart-experience ? And 
 watchfulness and sincerity ought to attend us every step. 
 When these graces are in us and abound, they make delectable 
 mountains indeed.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 This was Bunyan’s note; but, after his decease, it was 
 
 altered in 1707 to ‘ shown wonders,’ and so has continued to 
 the present time. The author’s meaning was, that these 
 wonders were real, undoubted, sure. Prom the introduction 
 
 of this note to the time of Bunyan’s death, he continued the 
 
 word ‘ sure.’ —(Ed.) 
 
 Mount Caution. 
 
 tom. So Christian and Hopeful looked down, and 
 saw at the bottom several men dashed all to pieces 
 by a fall that they had from the top. Then said 
 Christian, What meaneth this ? The Shepherds 
 answered, Have you not heard of them that were 
 made to err, by hearkening to Hymeneus and 
 Philetus, as concerning the faith of the resurrec¬ 
 tion of the body ? 2 Ti. ii. 17 ,18. They answered, 
 Yes. Then said the Shepherds, Those that you 
 see lie dashed in pieces at the bottom of this 
 mountain are they; and they have continued to 
 this day unburied, as you see, for an example to 
 others to take heed how they clamber too high, or 
 how they come too near the brink of this moun¬ 
 tain. 4 
 
 Then I saw that they had them to the top of 
 another mountain, and the name of 
 that is Caution, and bid them look 
 afar off; 5 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. 6 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, 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 
 Castle: where, after they had been a while kept 
 in the dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, 
 and led them among those tombs, where he has 
 left them to wander to this very day, that the 
 saying of the wise man might be fulfilled, ‘ He 
 that wandereth out of the way of understanding, 
 shall remain in the congregation of the dead.’ 
 
 4 Pine-spun speculations and curious reasonings lead men 
 from simple truth and implicit faith into many dangerous and 
 destructive errors.—(Mason.) 
 
 5 It is well for us to be much on this mount. We have 
 constant need of caution. Take heed and beware, says our 
 Lord. Paul takes the Corinthians up to this Mount Caution, 
 and shows them what awful things have happened to professors 
 of old; and he leaves this solemn word for us, ‘ Wherefore, let 
 him that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall.’ 1 Co. 
 x. 12.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 O the unthought-of imaginations, frights, fears, and ter¬ 
 rors, that are effected by a thorough application of guilt, yielu- 
 ing to desperation! This is the man that hath his dwelling 
 among the tombs with the dead, that is always crying out, and 
 cutting himself with stones. Mar. v. 3. But all in vain; de¬ 
 speration will not comfort him, the old covenant will not save 
 him .—(Grace Abounding , No. 185.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 145 
 
 Fr. xxi. 16. 1 Then Christian and Hopeful looked 
 upon one another, with tears gushing out, hut yet 
 said nothing to the Shepherds . 2 
 
 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 a hill, and they opened 
 the door, and bid them look in. They looked in, 
 therefore, and saw that within it was very dark 
 and smoky; they also thought that they heard 
 there a rumbling noise as of fire, and a cry of some 
 tormented, and that they smelt the scent of brim¬ 
 stone. Then said Christian, What means this ? 
 a by-way to The Shepherds told them, This is a by- 
 
 Hcu. wa y j ie ]]^ a wa y Lyp 0Cr ites go in 
 at; namely, such as sell their birthright, with 
 Esau; such as sell their master, with Judas; such 
 as blaspheme the gospel, with Alexander; and 
 that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira 
 his wife . 3 Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, 
 I perceive that these had on them, even every one, 
 a show of pilgrimage, as we have now ; had they 
 not ? 
 
 Siiep. Yes, and held it a long time too. 
 
 Hope. How far might they go on in pilgrimage 
 in their day, since they notwithstanding were thus 
 miserably cast away ? 
 
 Shep. Some further, and some not so far, as 
 these mountains. 4 
 
 Then said the Pilgrims one to another, We 
 had need to cry to the Strong for strength. 
 
 Siiep. Aye, and you will have need to use it, 
 when you have it, too. 
 
 1 Some retain the name of Christ, and the notion of him as 
 a Saviour; but cast him off in the very things wherein the 
 essential parts of his sacrifice, merits, and priesthood consist. 
 In this lies the mystery of their iniquity. They dare not alto¬ 
 gether deny that Christ doth save his people, as a Priest; but 
 then their art is to confound his offices, until they jostle out 
 of doors the merit of his blood and the perfection of his justi¬ 
 fying righteousness. Such draw away the people from the 
 cross (put out their eyes), and lead them among the infidels. 
 —(Bunyan’s Israel’s Hope, vol. i. p. 615.) 
 
 2 Probably to guard pilgrims against the Popish doctrine of 
 auricular confession.—(E d.) 
 
 3 Those seem to shun the common broad road; hut hav¬ 
 ing only the mark of religion, while their hearts are not right 
 with God, are as effectually ruined as the most profligate and 
 open offenders.—(Burder.) 
 
 4 Thus we read of some who were once enlightened, and 
 had tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of 
 
 the world to come. He. vi. 6. It is hard to say how far or how 
 long a person may carry on a profession, and yet fall away, 
 and come short of the kingdom at last. This should excite 
 to diligence, humility, and circumspection, ever looking to 
 Jesus to keep us from falling.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 It reflects the highest credit on the diffidence of Bunyan’s 
 genius—a genius as rich in its inventions, and as aspiring in 
 its imaginative flights, as ever poet could possess or lay claim 
 to—that, after such an exordium, he should have made no 
 effort minutely to describe what was in its own splendour of 
 
 elory indescribable. How beautifully, without exciting any 
 disappointment in a reader of taste, feeling, and judgment, does 
 he, by a few artless words, render most impressive and sublime, I 
 what more elaborate description could only have made con- ! 
 fused and unsatisfactory. Nothing can be more admirable | 
 
 VOL III. 
 
 By this time the Pilgrims had a desire to go 
 forward, and the Shepherds a desire they should; 
 so they walked together towards the end of the 
 mountains. Then said the Shepherds one to an¬ 
 other, Let us here show to the Pilgrims the gates 
 of the Celestial City, if they have T he Shepherds* 
 skill to look through our perspective P ers P e ctive glass. 
 glass . 5 The Pilgrims then lovingly accepted the 
 motion; so they had them to the top of a 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 showed 
 them, made their hands shake; by The fruits of 
 means of which impediment, they servile fear - 
 could not look steadily through the glass; yet 
 they thought they saw something like the gate, 
 and also some of the glory of the place. 6 TlieD 
 they went away, and sang this song— 
 
 The Hill Clear. 
 
 Thus, by the Shepherds, secrets are reveal’d. 
 
 Which from all other men are kept conceal’d. 
 
 Come to the Shepherds, then, if you would see 
 Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be. 7 
 
 When they were about to depart, one of the 
 Shepherds gave them a note of the way. An¬ 
 other of them bid them beware of the A twofold 
 Flatterer. The third bid them take heed caution, 
 that they sleep not upon the Enchanted Ground. 
 And the fourth bid them God speed. So I awoke 
 from my dream . 8 
 
 than this brief and indistinct report of the perspective glass, 
 it cannot offend the most fastidious taste, yet leaves scope for 
 the exercise of the most ardent and aspiring imagination.— 
 (Bernard Barton.) 
 
 6 Such mountains round about this house do stand 
 As one from thence may see the Holy Laud. 
 
 —(Bunyan’s House of God, vol. ii. p. 579.) 
 
 7 After going through the conflict with Apollyon, the Val¬ 
 ley of the Shadow of Death, the scenes in Vanity Fair, and the 
 dread experience of the pilgrims in Giant Despair’s Castle, it 
 is well to note what a gallery of solemn realities is here, 
 what a system of Divine truth, commending itself to all men’s 
 consciences. It is not so much the richness of imagination, 
 nor the tenderness of feeling here exhibited, nor the sweetness 
 and beauty of the imagery, with which this book is filled, as it 
 is the presence of these realities that constitutes the secret 
 of its unbounded power over the soul. Walk up and down in 
 this rich and solemn gallery. How simple are its ornaments! 
 How grave, yet beautiful, its architecture! Amidst all this 
 deep, serene beauty to the imagination, by how much deeper a 
 tone do these pictures speak to the inner spiritual being of 
 the soul! When you have admired the visible beauty of 
 the paintings, turn again to seek their meaning in that light 
 from eternity by which the artist painted them, and by which 
 he would have all men examine their lessons, and receive and 
 feel the full power of their colouring. In this light, the walls 
 of this gallery seem moving with celestial figures speaking to 
 the soul. They are acting the drama of a life which, by most 
 men, is only dreamed of; but the drama is the reality, and it 
 is the spectators only who are walking in a vain show.— 
 (Cheever.) 
 
 a This is the first break in the dream, and, doubtless, had 
 an important meaning. Perhaps the pilgrimage may be divided 
 into four parts: 1. The convert flying from the wrath to 
 come; instructed at the Interpreter’s house; relieved of his 
 
 19 
 
 *9 
 
 tltf 
 
 
146 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw tlie 
 same two Pilgrims going down the mountains along 
 the highway towards the city. Now, a little below 
 The Country of these mountains, on the left hand, 
 wWch^came^ the country of Conceit ; 1 from 
 
 Ignorance. which country there comes into the 
 way in which the Pilgrims walked, a little crooked 
 lane. Here, therefore, they met with a very brisk 
 lad, that came out of that country; and his name 
 was Ignorance. So Christian asked him from 
 what parts he came, and whither he was going\ 
 
 ™ . ,. . Ignor. Sir, I was born in the coun- 
 
 Ignorance have try that lieth off there, a little on 
 the left hand, and I am going to the 
 Celestial City. 
 
 Chr. But how do you think to get in at the 
 gate ? for you may find some difficulty there. 
 
 Ignor. As other good people do, said he. 
 
 Chr. But what have you to show at that gate, 
 that may cause that the gate should be opened to 
 you ? 
 
 Ignor. I know my Lord’s will, and I have been 
 , „ a good liver; I pay every man his own ; 
 
 The ground of 6 1 J J 
 
 Ignorance’s 
 
 hope. 
 
 I pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, 
 and have left my country 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 crooked lane, and there¬ 
 fore, I fear, however thou mayest think of thyself, 
 when the reckoning day shall come, thou wilt have 
 laid to thy charge that thou art a thief and a robber, 
 instead of getting admittance into the city. 
 
 Ignor. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, 
 I know you not; be content to follow the religion 
 
 burden at the cross; ascends the Hill Difficulty; overcomes 
 his timidity; and, 2. Enters a church at the House Beautiful; 
 and, as a private member, continues his journey, until, 3. He 
 meets Evangelist, near Vanity Pair, and is found fit to become 
 an itinerant preacher; in which calling he suffers persecution, 
 and obtains that fitness which enables him, 4. On the De¬ 
 lectable Mountains, to enter upou the responsible duties of a 
 ministering elder or pastor of a church, and is ordained by 
 Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere. Is this com¬ 
 mencement of his public labours the important point when the 
 author ‘awoke from his dream? ’— (Ed.) 
 
 1 This country w r e are all born in; all are ignoramuses by 
 nature. Some live long in the country of Conceit, and many 
 end their days in it. Are you come out of it ? So was Ignor¬ 
 ance ; but he breathed his native air. So long as a sinner 
 thinks he can do anything towards making himself righteous 
 before God, his name is Ignorance; he is full of self-conceit, 
 and destitute of the faith of Christ.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 Now, is it not very common to hear professors talk at 
 this rate ? Yes, and many who make a very high profession 
 too ; their hopes are plaiidy grounded upon what they-are in 
 themselves, and how they differ from their former selves and 
 other sinners, instead of what Christ is to us and what we are 
 in Christ. But the profession of such is begun with an ignor¬ 
 ant, whole, self-righteous heart; it is continued in pride, self- 
 seeking, and self-exalting, and ends in awful disappointment. 
 For such are called by our Lord thieves and robbers; they 
 rob him of the glory of his grace and the gift of his imputed 
 righteousness.—(Mason.) 
 
 of your country, and I will follow tlie religion of 
 
 mine. I hope all will be well. And He saift to 
 
 as for the gate that you talk of, all the eray om that 
 
 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 the wav. 
 
 «/ 
 
 When Christian saw that the man was ‘ wise in 
 his own conceit, ’ he said to Hopeful, whisperingly, 
 
 ‘ There is more hope of a fool than of him. ’ Pr. xxvi. 12. 
 And said, moreover, ‘ When he that is a fool walketh 
 by the way, his wisdom faileth him , and he saith 
 to every one that he is a fool. ’ Ec. x. 3. What, shall 
 we talk further with him, or out-go h 0 w to carry it 
 him at present, and so leave him to toaf ° o1 - 
 think of what he hath heard already, and then stop 
 again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we 
 can do any good to him ? Then said Hopeful— 
 
 Let Ignorance a little while now muse 
 On what is said, and let him not refuse 
 Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain 
 Still ignorant of what’s the chiefest gain. 
 
 God saith, those that no understanding have, 
 
 Although he made them, them he wifi not save. 
 
 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. 3 
 
 So they both went on, and Ignorance he came 
 after. Now when they had passed him a little 
 way, they entered into a very dark lane, where 
 they met a man whom seven devils had bound with 
 seven strong cords, and were carrying of him back 
 to the door that they saw on the side of the hill. 4 
 Mat. xii.45. Pr. v. 22. Now good Christian began to 
 tremble, and so did Hopeful his companion; yet 
 as the devils led away the man, Christian looked 
 to see if he knew him ; and he thought ^ degtruction 
 it might be one Turn-away, that dwelt of one Turu- 
 in the town of Apostasy. But he did aTiay ’ 
 not perfectly see his face, for he did hang his head 
 like a thief that is found. 5 6 But being once past, 
 
 3 It is best not to converse much at once with persons of 
 this character, but, after a few warnings, to leave them to their 
 reflections; for their self-conceit is often cherished by alter¬ 
 cations, in which they deem themselves very expert, however 
 disgusting their discourse may prove to others.—(Scott.) 
 
 4 An awful scene was beheld by the pilgrims. A professor, 
 j named Turn-away, bound with seven cords, was led by devils 
 
 to the by-way to hell. Let every one inquire. Who is this 
 wanton professor?—He who discovers a trifling, worldly, 
 wanton spirit, dreads not the appearance of evil, complies with 
 the fashions of the carnal world, and associates with the 
 euemies of our Lord ; and, in time, becomes a damnable apos¬ 
 tate. Lord, keep us from such a beginning and such an end I 
 —(Burder.) 
 
 6 The ‘ very dark lane’ in which ‘ Turn-away’ was met by 
 the pilgrims, represents the total darkness of the minds of 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 147 
 
 Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his back 
 a paper with this inscription, ‘ Wanton professor, 
 and damnable apostate. ’ 1 Then said Christian to 
 his fellow, Now I call to remembrance, that which 
 was told me of a thing that happened to a good 
 Christiantelleth man hereabout. The name of the man 
 a story ' 1 of was Little-faith, but a good man, and 
 Little*faith. fr e dwelt i n the town of Sincere. The 
 thing was this: At the entering in at this passage, 
 Broad-way gate. fLcre comes down fi om Broad-way 
 
 Dead Mm’s lane Gate » a laUe Called Dead Man ’ S Lane; 2 
 
 so called because of the murders that 
 are commonly done there; and this Little-faith 
 going on pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced to sit 
 down there, and slept. Now there happened, at 
 that time, to come down the lane from Broad-way 
 Gate, three sturdy rogues, and their names were 
 Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt (three brothers), 
 and they espying Little-faith, where he was, came 
 galloping up with speed. Now the good man was 
 just awake from his sleep, and was getting up to 
 go on his journey. So they came up all to him, 
 and with threatening language bid him stand. At 
 tills. Little-faith looked as white as a clout, and 
 had neither power to fight nor fly. 
 Then said Faint-heart, Deliver thy 
 purse. But he making no haste to do 
 it (for he was loath to lose his money), 
 Mistrust ran up to him, and thrusting his hand 
 into his pocket, pulled out thence a bag of silver. 
 They got away Then lie cried out, Thieves! Thieves! 
 knocked him With that, Guilt, with a great club 
 down. that was in his hand, struck Little- 
 
 faith on the head, and with that blow felled him 
 flat to the ground; where he lay bleeding as one 
 
 Little-faith 
 robbed by 
 Faint-heart, 
 Mistrust, and 
 Guilt. 
 
 that would bleed to death. 3 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. 4 
 This was the story. 
 
 Hope. But did they take from him all that ever 
 he had ? 
 
 Ciir. No ; the place where his jewels were they 
 never ransacked, so those he kept still. _, 
 
 ■n . T , , n . 1 Little-faith lost 
 
 But, as 1 was told, the good man was not lua best 
 
 much afflicted for his loss, for the thing3 * 
 
 thieves got most of his spending-money. That 
 
 which they got not (as I said) were jewels, 5 also 
 
 he had a little odd money left, but scarce enough 
 
 to bring him to his journey’s end, l p e . iv. 18; nay, if 
 
 I was not misinformed, he was forced Little-faith 
 
 to beg as he went, to keep himself ShTsjoumey^ 
 
 alive ; for his jewels he might not sell. end - 
 
 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. 6 
 
 Hope. But is it not a wonder they got not from 
 him his certificate, by which he was to receive his 
 admittance at the Celestial Gate ? 
 
 Chr. It is a wonder; but they got not that, 
 though they missed it not through any He kept not his 
 good cunning of his; for he, being {(if 0 K 
 dismayed with their coming upon him, nin s- 2TU.14 
 had neither power nor skill to hide anything; so it 
 was more by good Providence than by his endeav¬ 
 our, that they missed of that good thing. 7 
 
 such wicked professors; for «if the light that is in them be 
 darkness, how great is that darkness! ’ When their charac¬ 
 ters are made manifest, they are ashamed to look their former 
 pious friends in the face. ‘ The wicked shall be holden with 
 the cords of his sins.’ Pr. v. 22.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 . ^ beware of a light trifling spirit and a wanton behaviour. 
 It is often the forerunner of apostasy from God. It makes 
 one tremble to hear those who profess to follow Christ in the 
 regeneration, crying, What harm is there in this game and the 
 other diversion P The warmth of love is gone, and they are 
 become cold, dead, and carnal. 0 how many instances of 
 these abound!— (Mason.) 
 
 2 tiiues of persecution, loose professors are driven down 
 
 cad Mans Lane to Broad-way Gate; thus Satan murders 
 
 the souls of men, by threatening to kill their bodies. Believers 
 that are weak in faith are betrayed into sinful compliances; 
 they sleep when they ought to watch, they conceal or deny 
 their profession, and thus contract guilt; Faint-heart assaidts 
 them, Mistrust plunders them, and Guilt beats them down.— 
 (bcott.) 
 
 3 1 he fly in the spider’s net is the emblem of the soul iu 
 
 such a condition. If the soul struggleth, Satan luboureth to 
 
 hold it down. It it make a noise, he bites it with blasphem¬ 
 
 ous mouth ; insomuch that it must needs die at last in the net, 
 if the Lord Jesus help not. Believing is sure sweating work! 
 Only strong faith can make Satan flee. O the toil of a gra¬ 
 cious heart in this combat, if faith be weak! The man can 
 get no higher than his knees, till an arm from heaven help bim 
 
 up.—(Bunyan’s Holy City.) 1 
 
 4 When Bunyan was imprisoned, his sentence was—To be 
 transported, if he did not conform in three months; and then, 
 if found as a Nonconformist, in this country, he should be 
 hung. Determined at all hazards not to be a traitor to his 
 God, he anticipated being hung; and was anxious, in such a 
 cause, to meet death with firmness. When his fears prevailed, 
 he dreaded lest he should make but a scrabbling shift to 
 clamber up the ladder.—(See Grace Abounding , No. 334.) 
 
 5 W here there is a faint heart in God’s cause, and mis trust 
 of God’s truths, there will be guilt in the conscience, and but 
 little faith. These rogues will prevail over, and rob such souls 
 of the comforts of God’s love and of Christ’s salvation. Bv 
 his jewels, we may understand those radical graces of the Spirit 
 
 faith, hope, and love. By his spending-money, the sealing 
 and earnest of the Spirit in his heart. 2 Co. i. 22. Of this 
 Divine assurance, and the sense of the peace and joy in the 
 Holy Ghost, he was robbed; so that, though he still went on 
 iu the ways of the Lord, yet he dragged on but heavily and 
 uncomfortably.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 Bunyan throws great light upon this subject in his Christ 
 a Complete Saviour, vol. i. p. 215:—‘ We are saved by Christ; 
 brought to glory by Christ; and all our works are no other¬ 
 wise made acceptable to God, but by the person and excellen¬ 
 cies of Christ. Therefore, whatever the jewels are, and the 
 bracelets and the pearls that thou shalt be adorned with, as a 
 reward of service done to God in this world, for them thou 
 must thank Christ, and, before all, confess that he was the 
 meritorious cause thereof.’ 
 
 7 What was this good thing? His precious faith, whose 
 
143 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Hope. But it must needs be a comfort to liim, 
 that tliey got not this jewel from him. 1 
 
 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 the taking away his money ; 
 indeed, he forgot it a great part of the rest of his 
 journey; and besides, when at any time it came 
 into his mind, and he began to be comforted there¬ 
 with, then would fresh thoughts of his loss come 
 again upon him, and those thoughts would swallow 
 up all. 1 Pe. i. 9. 
 
 He is pitied by Hope. Alas ! poor man. This could 
 
 both - not but be a great grief to him. 
 
 Chr. Grief! aye, a grief indeed. Would it not 
 have been so to any of us, had we been used as 
 he, to be robbed, and wounded too, and that in a 
 strange place, as he was ? It is a wonder he did 
 not die with grief, poor heart! I was told that he 
 scattered almost all the rest of the way with nothing 
 but doleful and bitter complaints; telling also to 
 all that overtook him, or that he overtook in the 
 way as he went, where he was robbed, and how; 
 who they were that did it, and what he lost; how 
 he was wounded, and that he hardly escaped with 
 his life. 2 
 
 Hope. But it is a wonder that his necessity did 
 not put him upon selling or pawning some of his 
 jewels, 3 * * * * * * * 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 
 Christian snub- pawn them, or to whom should he 
 Ibr 11 unadvised sell them ? In all that country where 
 speaking. he was robbed, his jewels were not 
 accounted of; nor did he want that relief which 
 could from thence be administered to him. Besides, 
 had his jewels been missing at the gate of the 
 Celestial City, he had (and that he knew well 
 enough) been excluded from an inheritance there; 
 and that would have been worse to him than the 
 appearance and villany of ten thousand thieves. 
 
 Hope. Why art thou so tart, my brother? Esau 
 sold his birthright, and that for a mess of pot¬ 
 
 tage, and that birthright was his greatest jewel; 
 and if he, why might not Little-faith do so too ? 
 
 He. xii. 16. 
 
 Chr. Esau did sell his birthright indeed, and so 
 do many besides, and by so doing ex- A ^ 3C0TlTae 
 elude themselves from the chief bless- about Esau a nd 
 ing, as also that caitiff did; but you 
 must put a difference betwixt Esau and Little-faith, 
 and also betwixt their estates. Esau’s birthright 
 was typical, but Little-faith’s jewels were not so; 
 Esau’s belly Was his god, but Little- Esau was ruled 
 faith’s belly was not so; Esau’s want b y luslust3 - 
 lay in his fleshly appetite, Little-faith’s did not so. 
 Besides, Esau could see no further than to the ful¬ 
 filling of his lusts; ‘ Behold I am at the point to 
 die (said he), and what profit shall this birthright 
 do me ? ’ Ge. xxv. 32. But Little-faith, though it was 
 his lot to have but a little faith, was by his little 
 faith kept from such extravagances, and made to 
 see and prize his jewels more than to sell them, as 
 Esau did his birthright. You read not anywhere 
 that Esau had faith, no, not SO much Esau never had 
 as a little; therefore no marvel if, tiUth ’ 
 where the flesh only bears sway (as it will in that 
 man where no faith is to resist), if he sells his 
 birthright, and his soul and all, and that to the 
 devil of hell; for it is with such, as it is with the 
 ass, who in her occasions cannot be turned away. 
 Je. ii. 24. When their minds are set upon their lusts, 
 they will have them whatever they cost. But 
 Little-faith was of another temper, his mind was 
 on things divine; his livelihood was Little-faith 
 
 ... , ••j.i j could not live 
 
 upon things that were spiritual, and upon Esau ’3 
 from above; therefore, to what end P° tta s e - 
 should he that is of such a temper sell his jewels 
 (had there been any that would have bought them) 
 to fill his mind with empty things? Will a man 
 give a penny to fill his belly with hay ; or can you 
 persuade the turtle-dove to live upon A comparison 
 carrion like the crow ? Though faith¬ 
 less ones can, for carnal lusts, pawn, 
 or mortgage, or sell what they have, and themselves 
 outright to boot; yet they that have faith, saving 
 faith, though but a little of it, cannot do so. Here, 
 therefore, my brother, is thy mistake. 
 
 between the 
 turtle-dove 
 and the crow. 
 
 author, finisher, and object is precious Jesus. And where he 
 gives this precious gift of faith, though it be but little, even as 
 a grain of mustard-seed, not all the powers of earth and hell 
 can rob the heart of it. Christ prayed for his disciple that his 
 faith should not fail, or be totally lost; therefore, though Peter 
 lost his comforts for a season, yet not his faith totally, not his 
 soul eternally; for, says Jesus, of all his dear flock, yea, of 
 those of little faith too. None shall pluck them out of my hand. 
 There is one blessed security, not in ourselves, but in our Lord. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 1 Hope, love, humility, meekness, patience, longsuffering, 
 compassion, and mercy, are gracious dispositions wrought in 
 the heart by the Holy Ghost. These are the believer’s jewels; 
 and it is his duty to keep them clean, that their beauty and 
 lustre may be apparent.—(Andronicus.) 
 
 2 Little-faith cannot come all the way without crying. So 
 
 long as its holy boldness lasts, so long it can come with peace, 
 but it will go the rest of the way with ciying.—(Bunyan’s 
 
 Come and Welcome, vol. i. p. 288.) 
 
 3 Bunyan shows the difference between ‘his spending-money,’ 
 or that treasure which the Christian carries in his earthen ves¬ 
 sel, and his jewels, in Grace Abounding, No. 232 :—‘ It was 
 glorious to me to see his [Christ’s] exaltation. Now I could look 
 from myself to him, and should reckon that all those graces of 
 
 God that now were green in me, were yet hut like those cracked 
 
 groats and fourpence-halfpennies, 1 that rich men carry in their 
 
 purses, when their gold is in their tranks at home. Oh! I 
 
 saw that my gold was in my trunk at home, in Christ my Lord 
 
 and Saviour. Now, Christ was all; all my wisdom, all my 
 
 righteousness, all my sanctification, and all my redemption.’ 
 
 i Irish sixpences, which, in the dearth of silver coin in England, were 
 
 made current at fohrpence-halfpenny.—(E d.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 149 
 
 lIorE. I acknowledge it; but yet your severe 
 reflection had almost made me angry. 1 
 
 Ciir. Why, I did but compare thee to some of 
 the birds that are of the brisker sort, who will 
 run to and fro in untrodden paths, with the shell 
 upon their heads; but pass by that, and consider 
 the matter under debate, and all shall be well 
 betwixt thee and me. 
 
 Hope. But, Christian, these three fellows, I am 
 persuaded in my heart, are but a company of 
 cowards; 2 would they have run else, think you, as 
 they did, at the noise of one that was coming on 
 Hopeful swag- the road ? Why did not Little-faith 
 gers - pluck up a greater heart ? He might, 
 methinks, have stood one brush with them, and 
 have yielded when there had been no remedy. 
 
 Chr. That they are cowards, many have said. 
 No great heart but few have found it so in the time 
 
 there° d, is Wh but °f trial. As for a great heart, Little- 
 little faith. faith had none; and I perceive by thee, 
 
 my brother, hadst thou been the man concerned, 
 thou art but for a brush, and then to yield. And, 
 
 We have more Vei %’ SinCe this is the hei g ht of % 
 courage when stomach, now they are at a distance 
 
 out, than when r _ 
 
 in [the con- from us, should they appear to thee 
 as they did to him, they might put 
 thee to second thoughts. 
 
 But, consider again, they are but journeymen 
 thieves, they serve under the king of the bottom¬ 
 less pit, who, if need be, will come in to their aid 
 himself, and his voice is as the roaring of a lion. 
 
 Christian tells Ps. vii. 2 . i Pe. v. 8. I myself have been 
 rience in^this engaged as this Little-faith was, and 
 I found it a terrible thing. These 
 three villains set upon me, and I beginning, like a 
 Christian, to resist, they gave but a call, and in 
 came their master. I would, as the saying is, 
 have given my life for a penny; but that, as God 
 would have it, I was clothed with armour of proof. 
 Aye, and yet, though I was so harnessed, I found 
 it hard work to quit myself like a man. No man 
 can tell what in that combat attends us, but he 
 that hath been in the battle himself. 3 
 
 Hope. \Y ell, but they ran, you see, when they did 
 but suppose that one Great-grace was in the way. 4 
 
 Chr. True, they have often fled, both they and 
 their master, when Great-grace hath but appeared; 
 and no marvel; for he is the King’s The King > 9 
 Champion. But, I trow, 5 you will Champion, 
 put some difference betwixt Little-faith and the 
 King’s Champion. All the King’s subjects are 
 not his champions, nor can they, when tried, do 
 such feats of war as he. Is it meet to think that 
 a little child should handle 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 wall. 
 
 Hope. I would it had been Great-grace for their 
 sakes. 
 
 Chr. If it had been, he might have had his 
 hands full; for I must tell you, that though Great- 
 grace is excellent good at his weapons, and has, 
 and can, so long as he keeps them at sword’s point, 
 do well enough with them ; yet, if they get within 
 him, even Faint-heart, Mistrust, or the other, it shall 
 go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when 
 a man is down, you know, what can he do ? 
 
 Whoso looks well upon Great-grace’s face, shall 
 see those scars and cuts there, that shall easily 
 give demonstration of what I say. Yea, once 
 I heard that he should say (and that when he 
 was in the combat), ‘ We despaired even of life.’ 6 
 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 assault¬ 
 ed; and yet, notwithstanding, they had their coats 
 soundly brushed by them. Peter, upon a time, 
 would go try what he could do; but though some 
 do say of him that he is the prince of the apostles, 
 they handled him so, that they made him at last 
 afraid of a sorry girl. 
 
 Besides, their king is at their whistle. He is 
 never out of hearing; and if at any time they be 
 put to the worst, he, if possible, comes in to help 
 
 1 Hopeful was not the first pilgrim who has been ‘ almost 
 made angry ’ while holding a friendly debate upon that highly- 
 important subject, the doctrine of the saints’ final perseverance. 
 Pilgrims ought to debate upon those subjects without being 
 angry.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Hopeful here expresses himself as if he had read Bunyan 
 on Christ's Love :—‘ But to fear man is to forget God. He 
 taketh part with them that fear him ; so that we may boldly 
 say, “ 'ihe Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall 
 do unto me.” He. xiii. 6. Would it not be amazing to see a 
 man encompassed with chariots, and horses, and weapons of 
 defence, yet afraid of being sparrow-blasted, or overrun by a 
 grasshopper?’—(Vol. ii. p. 13.) 
 
 3 M ho can stand in the evil day of temptation, when beset 
 with Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, backed by the power of 
 their master, Satan? No one, unless armed with the w r hole 
 armour of God; and even then, the power of such infernal 
 foes makes it a hard fight to the Christian. But this is our 1 
 
 glory, the Lord shall fight for us, and we shall hold our peace. 
 
 We shall be silent as to ascribing any glory to ourselves, know¬ 
 ing our very enemies are part of ourselves, and that we are 
 
 more than conquerors over all these (only) through Him who 
 loved us. Ro. viii. 37.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 ‘ One Great-grace; ’ a believer, or minister, who having 
 
 honourably stood his ground, endeavours to restore the fallen. 
 The remembrance of such, helps to drive away despondency, and 
 inspires the trembling penitent with hope of mercy.—(Scott.) 
 
 6 ‘ I trow;’ I imagine or believe : nearly obsolete.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 Now here you see what is meant by Great-grace, who is 
 so often mentioned in this book, and by whom so many valiant 
 tilings were done. We read, * With great power the apostles 
 gave witness of the resurrection of Jesus.’ Why w r as it ? Be¬ 
 cause ‘great grace w r as upon them all.’ Ac. iv. 33. So you see 
 all is of grace, from first to last, in salvation. If w r e do great 
 things for Christ, yet, not unto us, but unto the great grace of 
 our Lord, be all the glory.—(Mason.) 
 
150 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 them; and of him it is said, ‘ The sword of him 
 
 Leviathan’s that lajeth at him cannot hold; the 
 sturdiness. S p earj th e nor the habergeon: he 
 
 esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. 
 The arrow cannot make him flee; sling stones are 
 turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted 
 as stubble: he laugheth at the shaking of a spear.’ 
 Job xii. 26—29. What can a man do in this case ? It 
 is true, if a man could, at every turn, have Job’s 
 horse, and had skill and courage to ride him, he 
 might do notable things; ‘ for his neck is clothed 
 
 The excellent Wlt ^ thunder, he will not be afraid of 
 
 mettle that is the grasshopper; the glory of his 
 in Job’s horse. .. . , i A . , 
 
 nostrils is terrible ; he paweth in the 
 valley, and rejoiceth in his strength, he goeth on 
 to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and 
 is not affrighted, neither turneth he back from the 
 sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glit¬ 
 tering spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the 
 ground with fierceness and rage, neither believeth 
 he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith 
 among the trumpets, Ha, ha! and he smelleth the 
 battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and 
 the shouting. ’ Job xxxix. 19—25. 
 
 But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us 
 never desire to meet with an enemy, nor vaunt as 
 if we could do better, when we hear of others 
 that they have been foiled, nor be tickled at the 
 thoughts of our own manhood ; for such commonly 
 come by the worst when tried. 1 Witness Peter, 
 of whom I made mention before. He would swag¬ 
 ger, aye, he would; he would, as his vain mind 
 prompted him to say, do better, and stand more 
 for liis Master than all men; but who so foiled, 
 and run down by these villains, as he ? 2 
 
 When, therefore, we hear that such robberies 
 are done on the King’s highway, two things become 
 us to do: 1. To go out harnessed, and to be sure 
 to take a shield with us; for it was for want of 
 that, that he that laid so lustily at Leviathan could 
 not make him yield; for, indeed, if that be want¬ 
 
 ing, he fears us not at all. Therefore, he that had 
 skill hath said, ‘ Above all, taking the shield of 
 faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the 
 fiery darts of the wicked.’ Ep. vi. 16. 
 
 2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King 
 a convoy, 3 yea, that he will go with it i 8 g00 d to 
 us himself. This made David rejoice have a convoy, 
 when in the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; and 
 Moses was rather for dying where he stood, than 
 to go one step without his God. Ex. xxxiii. 15. 0 my 
 
 brother, if he will but go along with us, what need 
 we be afraid of ten thousands that shall set them¬ 
 selves against us ? Ps. m. 5-8; xxvii. i-3. But, with¬ 
 out him, the proud helpers ‘ fall under the slain. ’ 
 
 Is. X. i. 
 
 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. 4 However, since the 
 lion and the bear have not as yet devoured me, I 
 hope God will also deliver us from the next uncir¬ 
 cumcised Philistine. Then sang Christian— 
 
 Poor Little-faith ! Hast been among the thieves ? 
 Wast robb’d? Remember this, whoso believes, 
 
 And gets more faith, shall then a victor he 
 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, A way> an a a 
 and seemed withal to lie as straight w:i y- 
 as the way which they should go; and here they 
 knew not which of the two to take, for both seemed 
 straight before them; therefore, here they stood 
 still to consider. And as they were The flatterer 
 thinking about the way, behold a man, flnds them - 
 black of flesh, but covered with a very light robe, 
 came to them, and asked them why they stood 
 there. 5 They answered, they were going to the 
 
 1 If we saw our own weakness, we should never court 
 dangers, nor run in the way of temptation; yet, if our tempta¬ 
 tions be ever so sharp and strong, and our dangers ever so 
 
 great, if the Lord is our strength, we need not fear.—(J. B.) 
 
 3 From this sweet and edifying conversation, learn not to 
 tnink more highly of yourself than you ought to think; hut to 
 think soberly, according to the measure of faith which God 
 hath dealt to you. Ro. xii. 3. Now, it is of the very essence 
 of faith to lead us out of all self-confidence and vain vaunting. 
 For we know not how soon Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt 
 may spring up in us, and rob us of our comforts, and spoil our 
 joys.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Instead of saying, * Though all men deny thee, yet will 
 not I,’ it behoves us to use all means of grace diligently, and 
 to be instant in prayer, that the Lord himself may protect us 
 by his power, and animate us by his presence, and then only 
 shall we be enabled to overcome both the fear of man and the 
 temptations of the devil.—(Scott.) 
 
 4 But how contrary to this is the walk and conduct of some 
 who profess to be pilgrims, and yet can wilfully and deliberately 
 
 go upon the devil’s ground, and indulge themselves in carnal 
 
 pleasures and sinful diversions! Such evidently declare in 
 plain language, that they desire not the presence of God, but 
 that he should depart from them; but a day will come which 
 will bring on terrible reflections of mind for such things.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 6 Mr. Ivimey’s opinion is, that this e way which put itself 
 into their way,’ and the flatterer, relates to Antinomianism. 
 Of this I can form no accurate judgment, never having met with 
 an Antinomian, or one who professed to he against the law of 
 God. I have met with those who consider that believers are bound 
 to prefer the law of God as revealed by Jesus Christ, in Mat. 
 xxii. 37-40, to be their rule of life, instead of limiting them¬ 
 selves to the law of God as given by Moses, in Ex. xx.; but it 
 has been for this reason, that the law proclaimed by Christ 
 unites in it the law given by Moses, and all the law and the 
 prophets. This law, as given by Christ, is in a few words of 
 beautiful simplicity, which can neither be misunderstood nor be 
 forgotten. Mason says, ‘ It is plain the author means the way of 
 self-righteousness,’ into which the flatterer enticed the pilgrims, 
 out of the Scripture highway to heaven, in the righteousness of 
 Christ. When ministers differ, private Christians must think for 
 themselves. My judgment goes with Mr. Mason.— (Ed.) Tins 
 
TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 151 
 
 Celestial City, but knew not which of these ways 
 to take. Follow me, said the man, it is thither 
 
 Christian and that 1 am g oin &- So they followed 
 fudecL UoW de * 111 ^ ie wa 7 ^ iat but now came in¬ 
 to the road, which by degrees turned, 
 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 
 They are taken within the compass of a net, in which 
 
 in a net. they were Loth so en t an gled, that they 
 knew not what to do; and with that the white 
 robe fell off the black man’s back. Then they 
 saw' where they were. Wherefore, there they lay 
 crying some time, for they could not get them¬ 
 selves out. 1 
 
 Chr. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do 
 They bewail I see myself in an error. Did not the 
 their condition. Shepherds bid us beware of the flatter¬ 
 ers ? As is the saying of the wdse man, so we 
 have found it this day, ‘ A man that flatteretli 
 his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet.’ r r . 
 
 xxix. 5. 
 
 Hope. They also gave us a note of directions 
 about the way, for our more sure finding thereof; 
 but therein we have also forgotten to read, and 
 have not kept ourselves from the paths of the de¬ 
 stroyer. Here David was wiser than w r e; for, 
 saith he, ‘ Concerning the works of men, by the 
 word of thy lips, I have kept me from the paths 
 of the destroyer.’ Ps. xvii. 4 . Thus they lay bewail- 
 ing themselves in the net. At last they espied 
 a sinning one a Shining One coming towards them, 
 mXii winffii! with a whip of small cord in his hand. 
 
 When he was come to the place where 
 they w r ere, he asked them whence they came, and 
 what they did there. They told him that they 
 were poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out 
 of their way by a black man, clothed in white, who 
 bid us, said they, follow him, for he was going 
 thither too. Then said he with the whip, It is 
 flatterer, a false apostle, that hath transformed 
 himself into an angel of light. Pr. xxix. 5 . Da. xi. 32 . 
 
 2 Co. XL 13,14. So he rent the net, and let the men 
 
 way, which seemed as straight as the right way, and in enter¬ 
 ing on which there was no stile to lie passed, must denote some 
 very plausible and gradual deviation from the simplicity of the 
 gospel, in doctrine or practice. If, in such a case, instead of a 
 personal prayerful searching the Scripture, we rely upon the 
 opinion of our friends, aud listen to the flatterer, we shall 
 certainly be misled.—(Scott.) 
 
 1 Luther was wont to caution against the white devil as 
 niuch as the black one; for Satan transforms himself into au 
 angel of light, and his ministers as ministers of righteousness. 
 A Co. xi. 14,15. And how do they deceive souls ? By flattery. 
 Leading poor sinners into a fine notion of some righteous 
 character they have in themselves, what great advances they 
 have made, and what high attainments they have arrived to, 
 even to be perfect in themselves, to he free from sin, and full 
 of nothing but love. These are black men clothed in white. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 out. Tnen said bo to tbem, 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 
 I lattei er. Then he asked them, saying, W here did 
 you lie the last night ? They said, They are ex- 
 With the Shepherds, upon the Delect- cSSed”'} 
 able Mountains. He asked them then, forgetfulness, 
 if they had not of those Shepherds a note of direc¬ 
 tion for the way. The}’- answered, Yes. But did 
 you, said he, when you were at a stand, pluck out 
 and read your note ? They answered, No. He 
 asked them, Why? They said, they forgot. He 
 asked, moreover, if the Shepherds did" not bid 
 them beware of the Flatterer. They Deceiver , 
 answered, Yes, but we did not imagine, spoken, 
 said they, that this fine-spoken man had been lie. 2 
 
 Ro. xvi. 18 . 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded 
 
 them to lie down; which, when they ™ 
 
 , 1 . - . j They are whipt, 
 
 did, he chastised them sore, to teach and. sent on 
 
 them the good way wherein they should thur way ' 
 
 walk, De. xxv. 2 ; and as he chastised them, he said, 
 
 * As niany as I love, I rebuke and chasten ; be 
 
 zealous, therefore, and repent. Re. ill. 19. 2 ch. vi 26 ,27, 
 
 This done, he bid them go on their way, and take 
 
 good heed to the other directions of the Shepherds. 
 
 So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went 
 
 softly along the right way, singing— 
 
 Come hither, you that walk along the way ; 
 
 See how the pilgrims fare that go astray! 
 
 They catched are in an entangling net, 
 
 ’Cause they good counsel lightly did forget: 
 
 ’Tis true, they rescued were, but yet you see, 
 
 They’re scourg'd to boot. Let this your caution be. 
 
 Now, after a while, they perceived, afar off, one 
 coming softly and alone, all along the highway to 
 meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow, 
 Yonder is a man with his back toward Zion, and 
 he is coming to meet us. 
 
 Hope. I see him, let us take heed to ourselves 
 now, lest he should prove a flatterer also. So he 
 drew nearer and nearer, and at last The Atheist 
 came up unto them. His name was meets tliem - 
 
 2 By this shining one understand the loving Lord the Holy 
 Ghost, the leader and guide of Christ’s people. When they 
 err and stray from Jesus the way, and are drawn from him as 
 the truth, the Spirit comes with his rod of conviction and chas¬ 
 tisement, to whip souls for their self-righteous pride and folly, 
 back to Christ, to trust wholly in him, to rely only on him, 
 and to walk in sweet fellowship with him. So he acted by the 
 Galatian church, which was flattered into a notion of self- 
 righteousness, and self-justification. So David, when he found 
 himself nearly lost, cries out, ‘ He restoreth my soul: he 
 leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.’ 
 Ps. xxiii. 3.—(Mason.) The devil, in his attempts after our 
 destruction, maketh use of the most suitable means. The ser¬ 
 pent, Adam knew, was subtle, therefore Satan useth him, there¬ 
 by to catch this goodly creature, man. Hereby the devil least 
 appeared [this fine-spoken mau], and least appearing, the 
 temptation soonest took the tinder. — (Bunyau on Genesis , 
 vol. ii. p. 428.) 
 
152 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Atheist, and he asked them whither they were 
 going. 
 
 Chr. We are going to the Mount Zion. 
 
 He laughs at Then Atheist fell into a very great 
 them. laughter. 
 
 Chr. What is the meaning of your laughter ? 
 Atheist. I laugh to see what ignorant persons 
 you are, to take upon you so tedious a journey, 
 and yet are like to have nothing but your travel 
 for your pains. 
 
 They reason to- Chr. Why, man, do you think we 
 gether. shall not he received ? 
 
 Atheist. Received! There is no such place as 
 you dream of in all this world. 1 
 
 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. Je. xxii. 12 . Ec. x. 15 . 
 
 Chr. We have both heard and believe that there 
 is such a place to be found. 
 
 Atheist. Had not I, when at home, believed, I 
 had not come thus far to seekbut finding none 
 (and yet I should, had there been such a place to 
 The Atheist be found, for I have gone to seek it 
 Sent m this further than you), I am going back 
 world. 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. 2 
 
 Christianproveth Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful 
 his brother. pj g f e ]] ow J g ft true w hi c h this mail 
 
 hath said ? 
 
 Hope. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers; 
 
 Hopeful’s gra- remember what it hath cost us once 
 cious answer. a l rea( Jy f or 0ur hearkening to such 
 
 kind of fellows. What! no Mount Zion? Did we 
 
 1 The backsliding of a Christian comes through the overmuch 
 persuading of Satan and lust; that the man was mistaken, and 
 that there was no such horror in the things from which he 
 tied; nor so much good in the things to which he hasted. 
 Turn again, fool, says the devil. I wonder what frenzy it was 
 that drove thee to thy heels, and that made thee leave so much 
 good behind thee as other men find in the lusts of the flesh 
 and the good of the world. As for the law, and death, and 
 the day of judgment, they are but mere scarecrows, set up by 
 politic heads, to keep the ignorant in subjection. Well, he 
 goes back, fool as he is, conscience sleeps, and flesh is sweet; 
 but, behold, he again sees his own nakedness—he sees the law 
 whetting his axe—the world is a bubble. He also smells the 
 brimstone which begins to burn within him. Oh ! saith he, I 
 am deluded! ‘Have mercy upon me, O God !’—(Christ a 
 Complete Saviour , vol. i. p. 223.) 
 
 2 A wicked man, though he may hector it at times with his 
 proud heart, as though he feared neither God nor hell; yet 
 again, at times, his soul is even drowned with terrors. If one 
 knew the wicked, when they are under warm convictions, then 
 the bed shakes on which they lie; then the proud tongue doth 
 falter in their mouth, and their knees knock one against 
 another. Then their conscience stares, and roars, and tears, 
 and arraigns them. O ! none can imagine what fearful plights 
 a wicked man is in at times!—(Bunyan’s Desires of the 
 Righteous, vol, i. p. 746.) 
 
 not see, from the Delectable Mountains, the gate of 
 the city ? 3 4 Also, are we not now to a remembrance 
 walk by faith? Let us go on, said 
 Hopeful, lest the man with the whip 
 
 overtake us again. 2 Co. v. 7. 
 
 of former chas¬ 
 tisements, is a 
 help against 
 present tempt¬ 
 ations. 
 
 You should have taught me that lesson, which 
 I will round 5 you in the ears withal: ‘Cease, my 
 son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from 
 the words of knowledge.’ Pr. xix. 27 . I say, my 
 brother, cease to hear him, and let us ‘ believe to 
 the saving of the soul. ’ He. x. 39 . 
 
 Chr. My brother, I did not put the question to 
 thee, for that I doubted of the truth of our belief 
 myself, but to prove thee, and to fetch from thee 
 a fruit of the honesty of thy heart, a fruit of an 
 As for this man, I know that he is honest heart. 
 
 blinded by the god of this world. Let thee and 1 
 go on, knowing that we have belief of the truth, 
 ‘ and no lie is of the truth.’ 1 Jn. ii. 21 . 
 
 Hope. Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of 
 God. So they turned away from the man ; and he, 
 laughing at them, went his way. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that they went till they 
 came into a certain country, whose air 
 naturally tended to make one drowsy, 
 if he came a stranger into it. And 
 here Hopeful began to be very dull 
 and heavy of sleep; wherefore 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. 6 
 
 Chr. By no means, said the other; Christian keeps 
 lest, sleeping, we never awake more. 111111 awake - 
 
 Hope. Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet to 
 the labouring man; we may be refreshed if we take 
 a nap. 7 
 
 They are come 
 to the Enchant¬ 
 ed Ground. 
 
 Hopeful begins 
 to be drowsy. 
 
 3 On the Delectable Mountains, the pilgrims had a sight of 
 the Celestial City. No matter if it was but a glimpse; still they 
 saw it, they really saw it, and the remembrance of that sight 
 never left them. There it was in glory 1 Their hands trem¬ 
 bled, their eyes were dim with tears, but still that vision was 
 not to be mistaken. There, through the rifted clouds, for a 
 moment, the gates of pearl were shiuing, the jasper walls, the 
 endless domes, the jewelled battlements! The splendour of 
 the city seemed to pour, like a river of light, down upon the 
 spot where they were standing.—(Cheever.) 
 
 4 See how we are surrounded with different enemies! No 
 
 sooner have they escaped the self-righteous flatterer, but they 
 meet with the openly profane and licentious mocker—aye, aud 
 he set out, and went far too; yea, further than they. But, 
 behold, he has turned his back upon all; and though he had 
 been twenty years a seeker, yet now he proves, that he has 
 neither faith nor hope, but ridicules all as delusion. Awful to 
 think of! 0 what a special mercy to be kept believing and 
 
 persevering, and not regarding the ridicule of apostates!— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 6 ‘ To round;’ to be open, sincere, candid. ‘ Maister Bland 
 answered flatly and roundly.’—(Box’s Book of Martyrs .) 
 
 6 Upon the declaration for liberty of conscience, the church 
 for a season was free from persecution. It was like enchanted 
 ground; and some, who had been watchful in the storm, 
 became careless and sleepy in this short deceitful calm.— (Ed.) 
 
 7 Ah, these short naps for pilgrims! The sleep of death, 
 
 
 
 
 f 
 
 
 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 153 
 
 Ciir. Do you not remember that one of the 
 Shepherds bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground ? * l 
 He meant by that, that we should beware of sleep¬ 
 ing ; «Therefore let us not sleep, as do others, but 
 let us watch and be sober.’ 2 1 Th. v. 6. 
 
 Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault; and 
 
 lie is thankful. !' ad 1 been llere a,0nC ’ 1 bad b J sl ««P' 
 
 ing run the danger of death. I see it 
 is true that the wise man saith, * Two are better 
 than one.’ Hitherto hath thy company been my 
 mercy, and thou slialt have a good reward for thy 
 labour. Ec. iv. 9 . 
 
 To prevent Ciir. Now then, said Christian, to 
 
 drowsiness, , i . . . , 
 
 they fall to prevent drowsiness in this place, let 
 
 good discourse. us f a p j nto g 00( J discourse. 
 
 Hope. With all my heart, said the 
 siness. other. 
 
 Chr. Where shall we begin ? 
 
 Hope. Where God began with us. But do you 
 begin, if you please. 
 
 Chr. I will sing you first this song:— 
 
 < 0 * 
 
 The Dreamers’ 
 note. 
 
 "When saints do sleepy grow, let them come 
 hither. 
 
 And hear how these two pilgrims talk together: 
 Yea, let them leam of them, in any wise, 
 
 Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumb’ring eyes. 
 Saints’ fellowship, if it he manag’d well, 
 
 Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell. 
 
 Chr. Then Christian began, and said, I will ask 
 
 They begin at you a question. How came you to 
 
 of 16 their n con- think at first of so doing as you do 
 version. now ? 
 
 Hope. Do you mean, how came I at first to look 
 after the good of my soul ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, that is my meaning. 
 
 Hope. I continued a great while in the delight 
 of those things which were seen and sold at our 
 fair; things which, I believe now, would have, had 
 I continued in them still, drowned me in perdition 
 and destruction.. 
 
 Chr. What things were they ? 
 
 Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. 
 Also I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drink- 
 
 in the enchanted air of this world, usually begins with one of 
 these short naps.—(Cheever.) 
 
 1 The Enchanted Ground may represent worldly prosperity; 
 agreeable dispensations succeeding long-continued difficulties. 
 J his powerfully tends to produce a lethargic frame of mind: 
 the man attends to religious duties more from habit, than from 
 delight in the service of God. No situation requires so much 
 watchfulness. Other experiences resemble storms, which keep 
 a man awake; this is a treacherous calm, which lulls him to 
 sleep.—(Scott.) 
 
 “ ^ Christian, beware of sleeping on this enchanted ground ! 
 When all things go easy, smooth, and well, we are prone to 
 grow drowsy in soul. How many are the calls in the Word 
 against spiritual slumber! and yet how many professors, 
 through the enchanting air of this world, are fallen into the 
 deep sleep of formality 1 Be warned by them to cry to thy 
 Lord to keep thee awake to righteousness, and vigorous in the 
 ways of thy Lord.—(Mason.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 mg, swearing, lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-break¬ 
 ing, and what not, that tended to ITn pfnl , g]ife 
 destroy the soul. But I found at last, before con- 
 by hearing and considering of things version - 
 that are Divine, which indeed I heard of you, as 
 also of beloved Faithful, that was put to death for 
 his faith and good living in Vanity Fair, that ‘ the 
 end of these things is death. ’ r 0 . vi. 21 - 23 . And that 
 for these things’ sake, ‘ cometli the wrath of God 
 upon the children of disobedience.’ Ep. v. 6. 
 
 Chr. And did you presently fall under the power 
 of this conviction ? 
 
 Hope. No, I was not willing presently to know 
 the evil of sin, nor the damnation that Hopeful at first 
 follows upon the commission of it; but aeamsUhe 768 
 endeavoured, when my mind at first 
 began to be shaken with the Word, to shut mine 
 eyes against the light thereof. 
 
 Chr. But what was the cause of your carrying 
 of it thus to the first workings of God’s blessed 
 Spirit upon you ? 
 
 Hope. The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that 
 this was the work of God upon me. I „ 
 
 . 7 . Reasons of his 
 
 never thought that by awakenings for resisting of the 
 
 sin, God at first begins the conver- llght ' 
 
 sion of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet very sweet to 
 
 my flesh, and I was loath 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-affrio-ht- 
 
 O 
 
 ing hours, that I could not bear, no not so much 
 as the remembrance of them upon my heart. 3 
 
 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 1 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 men he had 
 the streets ; or, lost his sense 
 
 2. If I have heard any read in the brought "tin! 
 Bible; or. 
 
 again. 
 
 8 Here you see, as our Lord says, * It is the Spirit who 
 quickeneth, the flesh profiteth nothing.’ Jn. vi. 63. Our car¬ 
 nal nature is so far from profiting in the work of conversion 
 to Christ, that it is at enmity against him, and opposes the 
 Spirit’s work in showing us our want of him, and bringing us 
 to him. Man’s nature aud God’s grace are two direct oppo¬ 
 sites. Nature opposes, but grace subdues nature, and brings 
 it to submission and subjection. Are we truly convinced of 
 sin, and converted to Christ ? This is a certain and sure evi¬ 
 dence of it—we shall say from our hearts, Not unto us, nor 
 unto any vieldings and compliances of our nature, free-will, 
 and power, but unto thy name, 0 Lord, he all the glory. For 
 it is by thy free, sovereign, efficacious grace, we are what we 
 are. Hence, see the ignorance, folly, and pride of those who 
 exalt free-will, and nature’s power, &c. Verily they do not 
 know themselves, even as they are known.—(Mason.) 
 
 20 
 
154 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 3. If mine head did begin to aclie ; or, 
 
 4. If I were told that some of my neighbours 
 were sick; or, 
 
 5. If I heard the hell toll for some that were 
 
 in the book uncrossed, for that the shopkeeper may 
 sue him, and cast him into prison till he shall pay 
 the debt. 
 
 Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to 
 
 Wlien lie could 
 no longer shake 
 off his guilt by 
 sinful courses, 
 then he en¬ 
 deavours to 
 mend. 
 
 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 
 off the guilt of sin, 1 when, by any of these ways, it 
 came upon you ? 
 
 Hope. No, not I, for then they got faster hold 
 of my conscience; and then, if I did but think of 
 going back to sin (though my mind was turned 
 against it), it would be double torment to me. 
 
 Chr. And how did you do then ? 
 
 Hope. I thought I must endeavour to mend my 
 life; for else, thought I, I am sure to 
 be damned. 
 
 Chr. And did you endeavour to 
 mend ? 
 
 Hope. Yes; and fled from not only 
 my sins, but sinful company too; and betook me 
 to religious duties, as prayer, reading, weeping for 
 sin, speaking trnth to my neighbours, &c. These 
 things did I, with many others, too much here to 
 relate. 
 
 Chr. And did you think yourself well then ? 
 Hope. Yes, for a while; but, at the last, my 
 
 Thenhe thought trouble came tumbling upon me again, 
 himself well. an q that over the neck of all my re¬ 
 formations. 
 
 Chr. How came that about, since you were now 
 reformed ? 
 
 Hope. There were several things brought it upon 
 
 Reformation at me > especially such sayings as these: 
 last couia not ‘ All our righteousnesses are as filthy 
 help, and why. ra g g .» Ig My < By the wor ]- s 0 f the 
 
 law shall no flesh be justified.’ Ga. ii. 16. ‘ When ye 
 
 shall have done all those things, say, We are un¬ 
 profitable,’ Lu. xvii. 10; with many more such like. 
 From whence I began to reason with myself 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 it is but a folly to think of heaven by the law. 
 His being a I further thought thus: If a man runs 
 kw^troubied a hundred pounds into the shopkeeper’s 
 hi™- debt, and after that shall pay for all 
 
 that he shall fetch; yet, if this old debt stands still 
 
 1 Not the evil of sin in the sight of God, hut the remorse 
 and fear of wrath, with which the convinced sinner is oppressed, 
 and from which he, at times, seeks relief by means which ex¬ 
 ceedingly increase his actual guilt. Nothing hut a free par¬ 
 don, by faith in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, can take away 
 
 guilt; hut the uneasiness of a man’s conscience may he for a 
 
 time removed by various expedients.—(Scott.) 
 
 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 off 
 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 transgres¬ 
 sions ? 
 
 Chr. A very good application; but, pray, go on. 
 
 Hofe. Another thing that hath troubled me, 
 even since my late amendments, is, that if I look 
 
 narrowly into the best of what I do His espying bad 
 now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing best b duti es 
 itself with the best of that I do; so troubled him. 
 that now I am forced to conclude, that notwith¬ 
 standing my former fond conceits of myself and 
 duties, I have committed sin enough in one duty 
 to send me to hell, 2 though my former life had 
 been faultless. 3 
 
 Ciir. And what did you do then ? 
 
 Hope. Do ! I could not tell what to do, until I 
 
 brake my mind to Faithful, for he and 
 I were well acquainted. And he told 
 me, that unless I could obtain the 
 righteousness of a man that never had 
 sinned, neither mine own, nor all the 
 
 This made him 
 break his mind 
 to Faithful, 
 who told him 
 the way to be 
 saved. 
 
 righteousness 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 amendment, I had 
 called him fool for his pains; but now, since I see 
 mine own infirmity, and the sin that cleaves to my 
 best performance, I have been forced to be of his 
 
 opinion. 
 
 Chr. But did you think, when at first he sug¬ 
 gested it to you, that there was such a man to be 
 found, of whom it might justly be said, that he 
 never committed sin ? 
 
 2 In modern editions, this has been altered to ‘ sin enough 
 in one day.’ But in any period of time, selecting that duty 
 in the discharge of which we have felt the most pure, there 
 has been a mixture of sin. * For there is not a day, nor a 
 duty; not a day that thou livest, nor a duty that thou dost, 
 hut will need that mercy should come after to take away thy 
 iniquity.’—(Bunyan’s Saints’ Privilege , vol. i. p. 679.) These 
 are solemn and humbling reflections.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 Thus, you see, in conversion, the Lord does not act upon 
 us as though we were mere machines. No, we have under¬ 
 standing; he enlightens it. Then we come to a sound mind; 
 we think right, and reason justly. We have wills; what the 
 understanding judges best, the will approves, and then the 
 affections follow after; and thus we choose Christ for our 
 Saviour, and glory only in his righteousness and salvation. 
 When the heavenly light of truth makes manifest what we are, 
 and the danger we are in, then we rationally flee from the 
 wrath to come, to Christ the refuge set before us.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 155 
 
 IIorE. I must confess the words at first sounded 
 
 .. v v strangely, but after a little more talk 
 
 started at pre- and company with him, I had full con- 
 sent. . i l 
 
 viction about it. 
 
 Cmt. And did you ask him what man this was, 
 and how you must be justified by him ? 
 
 Hope. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord 
 Jesus, that dwelleth on the right hand of the 
 Most High. And thus, said he, you must be jus¬ 
 tified by him, even by trusting to what he hath 
 done by himself in the days of his flesh, and suf¬ 
 fered when he did hang on the tree. I asked him 
 A moreparticu- further, how that man’s righteousness 
 tkVway^be could be of that efficacy to justify 
 saved - 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. He. x. Ro. iv. 
 CoL i. 1 Pe. i. 
 
 Chr. And what did you do then ? 
 
 Hope. I made my objections against my believ- 
 
 He doubts of ing, for that I thought he was not 
 acceptation, willing to save me. 
 
 Chr. And what said Faithful to you then ? 
 Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then I 
 said it was presumption; but he said, No, for I 
 was invited to come. Mat. xi. 28. Then he gave me 
 a book of Jesus, his inditing, to encourage me the 
 He is better more freely to come; and he said, 
 instructed. concerning that book, that every jot 
 
 and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and 
 earth. Mat. xxiv. 35 . 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. Ps. xcv. 6 . Dan. vi. 10. Je. 
 xxix. 12, 13 . 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 for¬ 
 giveness to them that come. I told him that I 
 knew not what to say when I came. And he bid 
 me say to this effect, God be mer- 
 
 He is bid to pray. . ■, i . 
 
 ciful 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 righteousness, I am utterly cast away. 1 
 
 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 
 
 1 Pray mind this. The grand object of a sensible sinner is 
 righteousness. He has it not in himself; this he knows. 
 Where is it to be found? In Christ only. This is a revealed 
 truth; and without faith in this, every sinner must be lost. 
 Consider, it is at the peril of your soul that you reject the 
 righteousness of Christ; and do not believe that God imput- 
 eth it without works for the justification of the ungodly. O 
 ye stout-hearted, self-righteous sinners, ye who are far from 
 righteousness, know this and tremble 1—(Mason.) 
 
 thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor 
 sinner as I am (and I am a sinner indeed), Lord, 
 take therefore this opportunity, and magnify thy 
 grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy 
 Son Jesus Christ. Amen. Ex. xxv. 22. Le. xvi. 2. No. 
 viL 89 . He. iv. 16 . 
 
 Ciir. 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 He thought to 
 
 leave off praying. 
 
 Chr. And what was the reason you did not ? 
 
 Hope. I believed that that was true which had 
 been told me, to wit, that without the ne durst not 
 righteousness of this Christ, all the leave off pray- 
 world could not save me; and there- ln °’ dud wh ^- 
 fore, thought I with myself, if I leave off I die, 
 and I can but die at the throne of grace. And 
 withal, this came into my mind, ‘ Though it tarry, 
 wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not 
 tarry. ’ Ha. ii. 3. So I continued praying until the 
 Father showed me his Son. 2 
 
 Chr. And how was he revealed unto you? 
 
 Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, 
 but with the eyes of my understand- christisICTeal . 
 
 ino\ Ep. i. 18, 19 : and thus it was : One ed to him, aud 
 
 o’ r ' how. 
 
 day I was very sad, I think sadder 
 than at any one time in my life, and this sadness 
 was through a fresh sight of the greatness and 
 vileness of my sins. And as I was then looking 
 for nothing but hell, and the everlasting damna¬ 
 tion of my soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the 
 Lord Jesus look down from heaven upon me, and 
 saying, ‘ Believe 011 the Lord Jesus Christ, and 
 thou shalt be saved. ’ Ac. xvi. 31 . 
 
 But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great 
 sinner. And he answered, ‘My grace is sufficient 
 for thee.’ 3 2 Co. xii. 9 . Then I said, But, Lord, 
 what is believing; ? And then I saw from that 
 
 2 The true nature of faith is to believe aud rest upon the 
 Word of truth, and wait for the promised comfort. That taith 
 which is the gift of God leads the soul to wait upon and cry 
 to God, and not to rest till it has some blessed testimony 
 from God of interest in the love aud lavour of God iu Christ 
 Jesus. But O how many professors rest short of this!— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 3 As I thought my case most sad and fearful, these words 
 did with great power suddenly break in upon me, ‘ My grace 
 is sufficient for thee,’ three times together. 0! methought 
 every word w r as a mighty word for me; as my, and grace , and 
 sufficient, and for thee ; they were then, and sometimes are 
 still, far bigger than others be .—{Grace Abounding, No. 206.) 
 
156 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 r 
 
 saying, ‘ He that cometh to me shall never hunger, 
 and he that believetli 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 be¬ 
 lieved in Christ. Jn. vi. 35. Then the water stood 
 in mine eyes, and I asked further, But, Lord, may 
 such a great sinner as I am, be indeed accepted 
 of thee, and be saved by thee ? And I heard him 
 say, ‘ And him that cometh to me, I will in no 
 wise cast out.’ Jn. vi. 37 . Then I said, But how, 
 Lord, must I consider of thee in my coming to 
 thee, that my faith may be placed aright upon 
 thee ? Then he said, ‘Christ Jesus came into the 
 world to save sinners.’ l Ti. i. 15. ‘ He is the end of 
 the law for righteousness to every one that believ- 
 eth.’ Ro. x. 4. ‘ He died for our sins, and rose again 
 
 fcr our justification.’ Ro. iv. 25 . ‘ He loved us, and 
 
 washed us from our sins in his own blood. ’ Re. L 5. 
 
 ‘ He is mediator betwixt God and us.’ l Ti. ii. 5. ‘ He 
 ever liveth to make intercession for us.’ He. vii. 25 . 
 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 submitting 
 to the penalty thereof, was not for himself, but 
 for him that will accept it for his salvation, and 
 be thankful. And now was my heart full of joy, 
 mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running 
 over with love to the name, people, and ways of 
 Jesus Christ. 1 
 
 Chr. This was a revelation of Christ to your 
 soul indeed; but tell me particularly what effect 
 this had upon your spirit. 2 
 
 Hope. It made me see that all the world, not¬ 
 withstanding all the righteousness thereof, is in a 
 state of condemnation. It made me see that God 
 the Father, though he be just, can justly justify the 
 coming sinner. It made me greatly ashamed of 
 the vileness of my former life, and confounded me 
 with the sense of mine own ignorance; for there 
 never came thought into my heart before now, that 
 showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ. It made 
 me love a holy life, and long to do something for 
 the honour and glory of the name of the Lord 
 Jesus; yea, I thought that had I now a thousand 
 
 1 The Lord’s dealings with his children are various, hut all 
 lead to the same end; some are shaken with terror, while others 
 are more gently drawn, as with cords of love. In these things 
 believers should not make their experiences, standards one for 
 another; still there is a similarity in their being brought to 
 the same point of rejecting both sinful and righteous self, and 
 believing on the Lord Jesus Christ as their complete salvation. 
 —(Andronicus.) 
 
 2 Christ did not appear to Hopeful’s senses, but to his 
 understanding; and the words spoken are no other than texts 
 of Scripture taken in their genuine meaning—not informing 
 him, as by a new revelation, that his sins were pardoned, but 
 encouraging him to apply for this mercy, and all other bless¬ 
 ings of salvation.—(Scott.) 
 
 gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for 
 the sake of the Lord Jesus. 3 
 
 I saw then in my dream that Hopeful looked 
 back and saw Ignorance, whom they had left be¬ 
 hind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, 
 how far yonder youngster loitereth behind. 
 
 Chr. Aye, aye, I see him; he careth not for 
 our company. 
 
 Hope. But I trow it would not have hurt him, 
 had he kept pace with us hitherto. 
 
 Chr. That is true; but I warrant you he thinket 
 otherwise. 
 
 Hope. That I think he doth ; but, however, let 
 us tarry for him. So they did. Young ignor- 
 
 Then Christian said to him, Come a^am^Their 
 away, man, why do you stay so behind ? talk - 
 
 Ignor. I take my pleasure in walking alone, 
 even more a great deal than in company, unless I 
 like it the better. 4 
 
 Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly), 
 Did I not tell you he cared not for our company ? 
 But, however, said he, come up, and let us talk 
 away the time in this solitary place. Then, 
 directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, 
 how do you ? How stands it between God and 
 your soul now ? 
 
 Ignor. I hope well ; for I am always full of 
 
 good motions, that come into my Ignorance , 3 
 
 mind, to comfort me as I walk. Pr. hope, and the 
 
 ground of it. 
 
 xxviii. 26 . 
 
 Chr. What good motions ? pray, tell us. 
 
 Ignor. Why, I think of God and heaven. 
 
 Chr. So do the devils and damned souls. 
 
 Ignor. But I think of them, and desire them. 5 
 
 Chr. So do many that are never like to come 
 there. ‘ The soul of the sluggard desireth, and 
 hath nothing.’ Pr. xiii. 4. 
 
 3 Since the dear hour that brought me to Thy foot, 
 
 And cut up all my follies by the root, 
 
 I never trusted in an arm but Thine, 
 
 Nor hoped, but in Thy righteousness Divine. 
 
 My prayers and alms, imperfect and defiled, 
 
 Were but the feeble efforts of a child. 
 
 Howe’er perform’d, it was their brightest part 
 That they proceeded from a grateful heart. 
 
 Cleans’d in Thine own all-purifying blood, 
 
 Forgive their evil, and accept their good. 
 
 I cast them at Thy feet—my only plea 
 Is what it was, dependence upon thee ! 
 
 —(Cowper.) 
 
 4 Not governed by the Word of God, but by his own will, 
 his grounds of confidence for salvation unfitted him for Chris¬ 
 tian fellowship, unless he happened to fall in with a man who 
 had imbibed his own notions.—(E d.) 
 
 5 The desire of heaven—when its nature is not understood, 
 the proper means of obtaining it are neglected, other objects 
 are preferred to it—is no proof that a man will be saved. The 
 expression, ‘ The desire of grace is grace,’ is very fallacious. 
 But to hunger and thirst for God, and his righteousness, his 
 favour, image, and service, as the supreme good, so that no 
 other object can satisfy the heart, is grace indeed, and shall be 
 completed in glory.—(Scott.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 157 
 
 Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all for 
 them. 
 
 Chr. That I doubt; for leaving all is a hard 
 matter; yea, a harder matter than many are 
 aware of. But why, or by what, art thou per¬ 
 suaded that thou hast left all for God and heaven ? 
 Ignor. My heart tells me so. 
 
 Ciir. The wise man says, * He that trusts his 
 own heart is a fool.’ 1 Pr. xxviii. 26. 
 
 Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine 
 is a good one. 
 
 Chr. But how dost thou prove that ? 
 
 Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of heaven. 
 
 Ciir. That may be through its deceitfulness; 
 for a man’s heart may minister comfort to him in 
 the hopes of that thing for which he yet has no 
 ground to hope. 
 
 Ignor. 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 ? 
 
 Ignor. My heart tells me so. 
 
 Chr. Ask my fellow if I be a thief ! Thy heart 
 tells thee so I Except the Word of God beareth 
 witness in this matter, other testimony is of no 
 value. 
 
 Ignor. But is it not a good heart that hath good 
 thoughts ? and is not that a good life that is 
 according to God’s commandments ? 
 
 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. 
 
 Ignor. Pray, what count you good thoughts, 
 and a life according to God’s commandments ? 
 
 Chr. There are good thoughts of divers kinds; 
 some respecting ourselves, some God, some Christ, 
 and some other things. 
 
 Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting our¬ 
 selves ? 
 
 What are good Chr. Such as agree with the Word 
 
 thoughts. of God< 
 
 Ignor. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree 
 with the Word of God ? 
 
 Ciir. When we 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 doetli good.’ Ro. m. It saith also, 
 that ‘ every imagination of the heart of man is only 
 
 1 Real Christians are often put to a stand, while they find 
 and feel the workings of all corruptions and sins in their nature; 
 and when they hear others talk so higlily of themselves, how 
 lull their hearts are of love to God, and of good motions, 
 
 " ithout any complainings of their hearts. But all this is from 
 the ignorance of their ow r n hearts ; and pride and self-righte¬ 
 ousness harden them against feeling its desperate wickedness.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 evil, and that continually.’ Ge. vi. 5. And again, 
 ‘ The imagination of man’s heart is evil from his 
 youth.’ Ro. viii. 2i. Now then, when we think thus 
 of ourselves, having sense thereof then are our 
 thoughts good ones, because according to the 
 Word of God. 
 
 Ignor. I will never believe that my heart is 
 thus bad. 
 
 Chr. Therefore thou never liadst 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. 
 
 Ignor. Make out your meaning. 
 
 Chr. Why, the Word of God saith that man’s 
 ways are crooked ways; not good, but perverse. 
 Fs. cxxv. 5 . Pr. ii. 15. It saith they are naturally out 
 of the good way, that they have not known it. 
 Ro. iii. Now, when a man thus thinketh of his 
 ways; I say, when he doth sensibly, and with 
 heart humiliation, thus think, then hath he o-ood 
 
 7 O 
 
 thoughts of his own ways, because his thoughts' 
 now agree with the judgment of the Word of God. 2 
 
 Ignor. 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 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 in 
 all our best performances. 
 
 Ignor. 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 perform¬ 
 ances ? 
 
 Ciir. Why, how dost thou think in this matter ? 
 
 Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must believe 
 in Christ for justification. 
 
 Ciir. How ! think thou must believe in Christ, 
 when thou seest not thy need of him ! Thou 
 neither seest thy original nor actual infirmities; 
 but hast such an opinion of thyself, and of what 
 
 2 I saw that it was not my good frame of heart that made 
 my righteousness better, nor yet my bad frame that made my 
 righteousness worse; for my righteousness was Jesus Christ, 
 the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever. He. xiii. 8.— 
 (Grace Abounding , No. 229.) 
 
158 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 thou dost, as plainly renders tliee to be one that 
 did never see a necessity of Christ’s personal righ¬ 
 teousness to justify thee before God. 1 How, then, 
 dost thou say, I believe in Christ ? 
 
 Ignor. I believe well enough for all that. 
 
 Ciir. How dost thou believe ? 
 
 Ignor. I believe that Christ died for sinners; 
 
 The faith of and that I shall be justified before 
 
 Ignorance. q 0( j f rom t fr e curse , through his gra- 
 
 cious 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. 2 
 
 Ciir. Let me give an answer to this confession 
 of thy faith. 
 
 1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for 
 this faith is nowhere described in the Word. 
 
 2. Thou believest with a false faith; because 
 it taketh justification from the personal righteous¬ 
 ness of Christ, and applies it to thy own. 3 
 
 3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of 
 thy person, hut of thy actions; and of thy person 
 for thy actions’ sake, which is false. 4 
 
 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 
 flying for refuge unto Christ’s righteousness, which 
 righteousness of his is not an act of grace, by which 
 he maketh, for justification, thy obedience accepted 
 with 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 
 
 1 Here we see how naturally the notion of man’s righteous¬ 
 ness blinds his eyes to, and keeps his heart from believing, that 
 Christ’s personal righteousness alone justifies a sinner in the 
 sight of God; and yet such talk bravely of believing, but their 
 faith is only fancy. They do not believe unto righteousness; 
 but imagine they have now, or shall get, a righteousness of their 
 own, some how or other. Awful delusion!—(Mason.) 
 
 2 Here is the very essence of that delusion which works by 
 a lie, and so much prevails, and keeps up an unscriptural hope 
 in the hearts of so many professors. l)o, reader, study this 
 point well; for here seems to be a show of scriptural truth, 
 while the rankest poison lies concealed in it. For it is utterly 
 subversive of, and contrary to, the faith and hope o^ the gospel, 
 •—(Mason.) 
 
 s The way of being justified by faith for which Ignorance 
 pleads may well be called ‘ fantastical ,’ as well as * false for 
 it is nowhere laid down in Scripture; and it not only changes 
 the way of acceptance, but it takes away the rule and standard 
 of righteousness, and substitutes a vague notion, called sincerity, 
 in its place, which never was, nor can be, defined with precision. 
 —(Scott.) 
 
 4 Justification before God comes, not by imitating Christ 
 as exemplary in morals, but through faith in His precious 
 blood. 'Co feed on Jesus is by respecting him as made of God 
 
 a curse for our sin. I have been pleased with observing, that 
 
 none of the signs and wonders in Egypt could deliver the 
 children of Israel thence, until the lamb was slain.—(Runyan 
 
 on Justification , vol. ii. p. 380.) 
 
 God, it is accepted, and acquit from condemna¬ 
 tion. 5 
 
 Ignor. 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 demonstrat- 
 eth what I say. Ignorant thou art of what justi¬ 
 fying 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 righteous¬ 
 ness 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 . 6 
 
 Ignor. What! you are a man for revelations ! 
 I believe that what both you, and all Ignorance jan- 
 the rest of you, say about that mat- gles with them, 
 
 ter, is but the fruit of distracted brains. 
 
 Hope. Why, man! Christ is so hid in God from 
 the natural apprehensions of the flesh, that he can¬ 
 not by any man be savingly known, unless God 
 the Father reveals him to them. 7 
 
 6 Under these four heads, we have a most excellent detec¬ 
 tion of a presumptive and most dangerous error which now 
 greatly prevails, as well as a scriptural view of the nature of 
 true faith, and the object it fixes on wholly and solely for 
 justification before God, and acceptance with God. Reader, 
 for thy soul’s sake, look to thy foundation. See that thou 
 build upon nothing in self, but all upon that sure foundation 
 which God hath laid, even his beloved Son, and his perfect 
 righteousness.—(Mason.) 
 
 "<3 This, by all natural men, is deemed the very height of 
 enthusiasm; but a spiritual man knows its blessedness, and 
 rejoices in its comfort. It is a close question. What may we 
 understand hy it ? Doubtless, what Paul means when he says, 
 
 * It pleased God to reveal his Son in me,’ Ga. i. 15, 16: that 
 is, he had such an internal, spiritual, experimental sight, and 
 knowledge of Christ, and of salvation by him, that his heart 
 embraced him, his soul cleaved to him, his spirit rejoiced in 
 him ; his whole man was swallowed up with the love of him, so 
 that he cried out in the joy of his soul. This is my beloved and 
 my friend—my Saviour, my God, and my salvation. He is 
 the chief of ten thousand, and altogether lovely. We know 
 nothing of Christ savingly, comfortably, and experimentally, 
 till he is pleased thus to reveal himself to us. Mat. xi. 27. 
 This spiritual revelation of Christ to the heart is a blessing 
 and comfort agreeable to, and consequent upon, believing on 
 Christ, as revealed outwardly in the Word. Therefore, every 
 believer should wait, and look, and long, and pray for it. 
 Beware you do not despise it; if you do, you will betray your 
 ignorance of spiritual things, as Ignorance did.—(Mason.) 
 
 7 Many of these revelations appear in the Grace Abound¬ 
 ing, as ‘ that scripture fastened on my heart,’ No. 201; ‘ that 
 sentence darted in upon me,’ No. 204 ; ‘ these words did with 
 great power break in upon me,’ No. 206; ‘ suddenly this 
 sentence fell upon my soul,’ No. 229; and many others.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
TI1E PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 159 
 
 iGron. That is your faith, hut not mine; yet 
 ne speaks re- mine, I doubt not, is as good as yours, 
 « r hat he knows though 1 have not in my head so many 
 not * whimsies a3 you. 
 
 Ciir. 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 com¬ 
 panion hath done, that no man can know Jesus 
 Christ but by the revelation of the Father, Mat. 
 xi 27 ; yea, and faith too, by which the soul layeth 
 hold upon Christ, if it be right, must be wrought 
 by the exceeding greatness of his mighty power; 
 the working of which faith, I perceive, poor Ignor¬ 
 ance, thou art ignorant of. l Co. xii. 3 . e p . i. 18 , id. 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. 1 
 
 Ignor. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace with 
 The talk broke you. Do you go on before; I must 
 up ' stay a while behind. 2 
 Then they said— 
 
 Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish he, 
 
 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) I’ll warrant thee. 
 
 Then Christian addressed thus himself to his 
 fellow:— 
 
 Ciir. 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 Christian to his companion, It pities me 
 much for this poor man, it will certainly go ill with 
 him at last. 
 
 Hope. Alas! there are abundance in our town 
 in his condition, 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 ? 
 
 1 That sinner is not thoroughly awakened, who does not 
 see his need of Christ’s righteousness to be imputed to him. 
 Nor is he quickened, who has not fled to Christ as ‘ the end of 
 the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.’ Ro. x. 4. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 2 Ignorant professors cannot keep pace with spiritual pil¬ 
 grims, nor can they relish the doctrine of making Christ all in 
 all, in the matter of justification and salvation, and making the 
 sinner nothing at all, as having no hand in the work, nor getting 
 any glory to himself by what he is able to do of himself, 
 free grace and free will; Christ’s imputed righteousness, and 
 the notion of man’s personal righteousness, cannot accord.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 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 your¬ 
 self, for you are the elder man. 
 
 Ciir. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they 
 may; but they being naturally ignorant, understand 
 not that such convictions tend to their good; and 
 therefore they do desperately seek to stifle them, 
 and presumptuously continue to flatter themselves 
 in the way of their own hearts. 
 
 Hope. I do believe, as you say, that fear tends 
 much to men’s good, and to make The good use of 
 them right, at their beginning to go fear * 
 on pilgrimage. 
 
 Ciir. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right; 
 for so says the Word, ‘ The fear of the Lord is the 
 beginning of wisdom.’ 3 Pr. i.7; ix. lO. Ps. cxi. 10. Job 
 xxviii. 28. 
 
 Hope. How will you describe right fear ? 
 
 Chr. True or right fear is discovered 
 
 i.i .i . Right feat 
 
 by three things:— 
 
 1. By its rise; it is caused by saving convictions 
 for sin. 
 
 2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ 
 for salvation. 
 
 3. It begetteth and continueth in the soul a 
 great reverence of God, his Word, and ways, keep¬ 
 ing 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 reproach¬ 
 fully. 4 
 
 Hope. Well said; I believe you have said the 
 truth. Are we now almost got past the Enchanted 
 Ground ? 
 
 Chr. Why, art thou weary of this discourse ? 
 
 Hope. No, verily, but that I would know where 
 we are. 
 
 Chr. We have not now above two miles further 
 to go thereon. But let us return to Why ignorant 
 our matter. Now the ignorant know convictions, 
 not that such convictions as tend to l. in general, 
 put them in fear are for their good, and therefore 
 they seek to stifle them. 
 
 3 Take lieed of hardening thy heart at any time, against 
 convictions or judgments. 1 bid you before to beware of a 
 hard heart; now I bid you beware of hardening your soft heart. 
 The fear of the Lord is the pulse of the soul. Pulses that heat 
 best are the best signs of life; but the worst show that life is 
 present. Intermitting pulses are dangerous. David and Peter 
 had an intermitting pulse, in reference to this fear.—(Bunyan 
 on the Fear of God , vol. i. pp. 487, 489.) 
 
 4 Mark well Christian’s definition of ‘ fear.’ It is one of 
 those precious passages in which our author gives us the subject 
 matter of a whole treatise in a few short and plain sentences. 
 Treasure it up in your heart, and often ponder it there. It 
 will prove, through the blessing of the Spirit, a special means 
 of enlivening, when spiritual langour, in consequence of worldly 
 ease, is creeping upon your soul.—(Andronicus.) 
 
160 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Hope. How do tliey seek to stifle them ? 
 
 Chr. 1. They think that those fears are wrought 
 by the devil (though indeed they are 
 2 . In parflfcuiar. 0 f Cod); and, thinking so, 
 
 they resist them as things that directly tend to 
 their overthrow. 2. They also think that these 
 fears tend to the spoiling of their faith, when, alas 
 for them, poor men that they are, they have none 
 at all! and therefore they harden their hearts 
 against them. 3. They presume they ought not 
 to fear; and therefore, in despite of them, wax 
 presumptuously confident. 4. They see that those 
 fears tend to take away from them their pitiful old 
 self-holiness, 1 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 
 neighbour 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 
 
 Talk about one years ago, one Temporary in your 
 
 Temporary, parts, who was a forward man in re¬ 
 ligion then ? 3 
 
 Hope. Know him! yes, he dwelt in Graceless, 
 
 Where he a town about two miles off of Honesty, 
 
 dwelt. anc i h e dvvelt next door to one Turnback. 
 
 Chr. Right, he dwelt under the same roof with 
 
 He was towardiy him. Well, that man was much 
 
 once. awakened once; I believe that then 
 he had some sight of his sins, and of the wages 
 that were due thereto. 
 
 Hope. I am of your mind, for, my house not 
 being above three miles from him, he would oft- 
 times 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 do 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 auout him, 
 
 1 ‘ Pitiful old self-holiness.’ Mind this phrase. Par was it 
 from the heart of good Mr. Bunyan to decry personal holiness. 
 It is nothing but self-holiness, or the holiness of the old man 
 of sin; for true holiness springs from the belief of the truth, 
 and love to the truth. All besides this only tends to self- 
 confidence, and self-applause.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 It is good to call to mind one’s own ignorance, when in 
 our natural estate, to excite humility of heart, and thankfulness 
 to God, who made us to differ, and to excite pity towards those 
 who are walking in nature’s pride, self-righteousness, and self- 
 confidence.—(Mason.) 
 
 a ‘ Temporaryone who is doctrinally acquainted with the 
 gospel, but a stranger to its sanctifying power. The reasons 
 and manner of such men’s declensions and apostasy are very 
 justly and emphatically stated.—(Scott.) 
 
 let us a little inquire into tlie reason of tlie 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 aie not Masons why to- 
 changed; therefore, when the power wardiy ones go 
 of guilt weareth away, that which pro¬ 
 voked them to be religious ceaseth, wherefore they 
 naturally turn to their own course again, even as 
 we see the dog that is sick of what he has eaten, 
 so long as his sickness prevails, he vomits and 
 casts up all; not that he doth this of a free mind 
 (if we may say a dog has a mind), but because it 
 troubleth liis stomach; but now, when his sickness 
 is over, and so his stomach eased, his desire being 
 not at all alienate from his vomit, he turns him 
 about and licks up all, and so it is true which is 
 written, ‘ The dog is turned to his own vomit again. ’ 
 
 2 Pe. ii. 22 . 4 Thus I say, being hot for heaven, by 
 virtue only of the sense and fear of the torments 
 of hell, as their sense of hell, and the fears of 
 damnation, chills and cools, so their desires for 
 heaven and salvation cool also. So then it comes 
 to pass, that when their guilt and fear is gone, 
 their desires for heaven and happiness die, and 
 they return to their course again. 5 6 
 
 2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears 
 that do overmaster them; I speak now of the 
 fears that they have of men, for ‘ the fear of man 
 bringeth a snare.’ Pr. xxix. 25. So then, though they 
 seem to be hot for heaven, so long as the flames 
 of hell are about their ears, yet, when that terror 
 is a little over, they betake themselves to second 
 thoughts; namely, that it is good to be wise, and 
 not to run (for they know not what) the hazard of 
 losing all, or, at least, of bringing themselves into 
 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 
 
 4 In Hoffman’s poetical version of the ‘ Pilgrim,’ this sen¬ 
 tence is, ‘ And nature will return, like Pope, to pork;’ alluding 
 to one of the Popes, who used daily to have a disb. of pork; 
 but, being sick, his physicians forbade it, when the Pope, in a 
 
 rage, cried out, ‘ Give me my pork, in spite of God.—(E d.) 
 
 6 A true description of the state of some professors. Here 
 see the reason why so many saints, as they are called, fall away. 
 Prom hence, some take occasion to deny the scriptural, soul- 
 comforting doctrine, of the certain perseverance of God’s saints 
 unto eternal glory. So they display the pride of their own 
 hearts, their ignorance of God’s Word, while they make God’s 
 promises of no effect, and the gospel of his grace, only much 
 ado about nothing.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 16] 
 
 (liem. 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 be¬ 
 cause they do, as I hinted before, even shun the 
 thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once 
 thev are rid of their awakenings about the terrors 
 and wrath of God, they harden their hearts gladly, 
 and choose such ways as will harden them more 
 and more. 
 
 Ciir. 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 that 
 he hath any detestation of the offence, as is evident, 
 because, let but this man have his libertv, and he 
 will be a thief, and so a rogue still, whereas, if his 
 mind was changed, he would be otherwise. 
 
 Hope. Now, I have showed you the reasons of 
 their going back, do you show me the manner 
 thereof. 1 
 
 Chr. So I will, willingly. 
 
 1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they 
 Hew the apostate ma J> from the remembrance of God, 
 
 goes back. 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 public 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, 
 
 1 Three young fellows. Mr. Tradition, Mr. ITuman-wisdom, 
 and Mr. Mau’s-invention, proffered their services to Shaddai. 
 The captains told them not to be rash; but, at their entreaty, 
 they were listed into Boanerges’ company, and away they 
 went to the war. Being in the rear, they were taken pri¬ 
 soners. Then Diabolus asked them if they were willing to 
 serve against Shaddai. They told him, that as they did not 
 so much live by religion as by the fates of fortune, they would 
 serve him. So he made two of them sergeants ; but he made 
 Mr. Man’s-invention his ancient-bearer [standard-bearer].— 
 (Bunyan’s Holy War.) 
 
 2 See how gradually, step by step, apostates go back. It 
 
 begins in the unbelief of the heart, and ends in open sins in 
 
 the life. "Why is the love of this world so forbidden ? Why 
 is covetousness called idolatry ? Because, whatever draws away 
 the heart from God, and prevents enjoying close fellowship 
 
 with him, naturally tends to apostasy from him. Look well to 
 your hearts and affections. ‘ Keep thy heart with all diligence, 
 tor out of it are the issues of life.’ Pr. iv. 23. If you neglect 
 
 to watch, you will be sure to smart under the sense of sin on 
 earth, or its ciuse in hell. * See then that ye walk circunv 
 
 spcctly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because 
 the days are evil.’ Ep. v. 15, 16.—(Mason.) 
 
 8 O what a blessed state 1 what a glorious frame of soul is 
 this! Job speaks of it as the candle of the Lord shining upon 
 his head; chap. xxix. 3. The church, in a rapture, cries out, 
 * Sing, O heavens; and be joyful, O earth; break forth into 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 ! that they may have a seeming colour to throw re- 
 | ligion (for the sake of some infirmity they have 
 espied in them) behind their backs. 
 
 6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate 
 themselves with, carnal, loose, and wanton men. 
 
 7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton 
 discourses in secret; and glad are they if they can 
 see such things in any that are counted honest, 
 that they may the more boldly do it through their 
 example. 
 
 8. After this, they begin to play with little sins 
 openly. 
 
 9. And then, being hardened, they show them¬ 
 selves 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. 2 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the 
 Pilgrims were got over the Enchanted Ground, and 
 entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was 
 very sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly 
 through it, they solaced themselves there for a 
 season, is. bdi. 4. 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. Ca. ii. 10—12. In this country the 
 sun shineth night and day; wherefore this was be¬ 
 yond 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. 3 * * * * 8 Here they were within sight of the city 
 they were going to, also here met them some of 
 the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the 
 
 • Angels 
 
 Shining Ones commonly walked, because it 
 was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also 
 
 singing, 0 mountains : for the Lord bath comforted his people.’ 
 Is. xlix. 13. Paul calls this, * The fidness of the blessing of 
 the gospel of Christ.’ Ro. xv. 29. 0 rest not short of enjoying 
 the full blaze of gospel peace and spiritual joy.—(Mason.) 
 During the last days of that eminent man of God, Dr. Payson, 
 he once said, * When I formerly read Bunyan’s description of the 
 Land of Beulah, where the sun shines and the birds sing day 
 and night, 1 used to doubt whether there was such a place; 
 but now my own experience has convinced me of it, and it 
 infinitely transcends all my previous conceptions.’ The best 
 possible commentary on the glowing descriptions in Bunyan is 
 to he found in that very remarkable letter dictated by Dr. Pay- 
 son to his sister, a few weeks before his death:—* Were I to 
 adopt the figurative language of Bunyan, I might date this 
 letter from the Land Beulah, of which I have been for some 
 weeks a happy inhabitant. The Celestial City is full in my 
 view. Its glories have been upon me, its breezes fan me, its 
 odours are wafted to me, its sounds strike upon my ears, and 
 its spirit is breathed into my heart. Nothing separates me 
 from it but the River of Death, which now appears but as an 
 insignificant rill, that maybe crossed at a single step, whenever 
 God shall give permission. The Sun of Righteousness has 
 been gradually drawing nearer and nearer, appearing larger and 
 brighter as he approached, and now he fills the whole hemi¬ 
 sphere, pouring forth a flood of glory, in which I seem to 
 float, like an insect in the beams of the sun; exulting, yet 
 almost trembling, while I gaze on this excessive brightness, 
 and wondering, with unutterable wonder, why God should deign 
 thus to shine upon a sinful worm.’—(Cheever.) 
 
 21 
 
I 
 
 162 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 the contract between the bride and the bridegroom 
 was renewed; yea, here, ‘Ms the bridegroom re- 
 joicetli over the bride, so did their God rejoice over 
 them.’ is. ixii. 5. Here they had no want of corn 
 and wine; for in this place they met with abund¬ 
 ance of what they had sought for in all their pil¬ 
 grimage. ver. 8. Here they heard voices from out 
 of the city, loud voices, saying, ‘ Say ye to the 
 daughter of Zion, Behold, thy salvation cometh! 
 Behold, his reward is with him! ’ ver. li. Here all 
 the inhabitants of the country called them, ‘ The 
 holy people, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out, ’ 
 
 &C. ver. 12 . 
 
 Now, as they walked in this land, they had more 
 rejoicing than in parts more remote from the king¬ 
 dom 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 sunbeams upon it, Chris¬ 
 tian with desire fell sick, Hopeful also had a fit or 
 two of the same disease. 1 Wherefore, here they 
 lay by it a while, crying out, because of their 
 pangs, ‘ If ye find my Beloved, tell him that I am 
 sick of love.’ 2 Ca. v. 8. 
 
 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 highway. Now, as they came up 
 to these places, behold, the gardener stood in the 
 way, to whom the Pilgrims said, Whose goodly 
 vineyards and gardens are these ? He answered, 
 They are the King’s, and are planted here for his 
 
 1 In the immediate view of heavenly felicity, Paul * desired 
 to depart hence, and he with Christ, as far better’ than life. 
 David * fainted for God’s salvation.’ In the lively exercise of 
 holy affections, the believer grows weary of this sinful world, 
 longs to have his faith changed for sight, bis hope swallowed 
 up in enjoyment, and his love perfected.— (Scott.) 
 
 2 No other language than that of Bunyan himself, perused 
 in the pages of his own sweet book, could be successful in 
 portraying this beauty and glory; for now he seems to feel 
 that all the dangers of the pilgrimage are almost over, and he 
 gives up himself without restraint so entirely to the sea of 
 bliss that surrounds him, and to the gales of heaven that are 
 wafting him on, and to the sounds of melody that float in the 
 whole air around him, that nothing in the English language 
 can be compared with this whole closing part of the ‘ Pilgrim’s 
 Progress,’ for its entrancing splendour, yet serene and simple 
 loveliness. The colouring is that of heaven in the soul; and 
 Bunyan has poured his own heaven-entranced soul into it. 
 "With all its depth and power, there is nothing exaggerated, 
 and it is made up of the simplest and most scriptural materials 
 and images. "We seem to stand in a flood of light, poured on 
 us from the open gates of paradise. It falls on every leaf and 
 shrub by the way-side; it is reflected from the crystal streams 
 that, between grassy banks, wind amidst groves of fruit-trees 
 into vineyards and flower-gardens. These fields of Beulah are 
 just below the gate of heaven; and with the light of heaven 
 there come floating down the melodies of heaven, so that here 
 there is almost an open revelation of the things which God 
 hath prepared for them that love him.—(Cheever.) 
 
 own delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims. 
 So the gardener bad them into the vineyards, and 
 bid them refresh themselves with the dainties. 
 De. xxiii. 24. He also showed them there the King’s 
 walks, and the arbours, where he delighted to be; 
 and here they tarried and slept. 3 
 
 Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked 
 more in their sleep at this time than ever they did 
 in all their journey; and being in a muse there¬ 
 about, the gardener said even to me, Wherefore 
 musest thou at the matter ? It is the nature of 
 the fruit of the grapes of these vineyards to go 
 down so sweetly, as to cause the lips of them that 
 are asleep to speak. 4 
 
 So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed 
 themselves to go up to the city. But, as I said, 
 the reflection of the sun upon the city (for ‘ the 
 city was pure gold, ’ Re. xxi. 18 ) was so extremely 
 glorious, that they could not, as yet, with open 
 face behold it, but through an instrument made 
 for that purpose. 2 Co. iii. 18. 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. 5 
 
 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 
 
 s This is the place, this is the state. 
 
 Of all that fear the Lord; 
 
 Which men nor angels xnav relate 
 With tongue, or pen, or word. 
 
 No night is here for to eclipse 
 Its spangling rays so bright; 
 
 Nor doubt, nor fear, to shut the lips 
 Of those within this light. 
 
 The strings of music here are tuned 
 For heavenly harmony, 
 
 And every spirit here perfumed 
 With perfect sanctity. 
 
 Here run the crystal streams of life, 
 
 Quite thorow all our veins; 
 
 And here by love we do unite 
 With glory’s golden chains. 
 
 —(Banyan’s One Thing Needful.) 
 
 4 Mr. Elavel, being on a journey, set himself to improve 
 the time by meditation; when his mind grew intent, till at 
 length he had such ravishing tastes of heavenly joys, and such 
 full assurance of his interest therein, that he utterly lost the 
 sight and sense of this world and all its concerns, so that for 
 hours he knew not where he was. At last, perceiving himself 
 faint, he alighted from his horse and sat down at a spring, 
 where he refreshed himself, earnestly desiring, if it were the 
 will of God, that he might there leave the world. His spirit 
 reviving, he finished his journey in the same delightful frame; 
 and all that night passed without a wink of sleep, the joy of 
 the Lord still overflowing him, so that he seemed an inhabit¬ 
 ant of the other world.—( Pneumatologia , 4to, 2d edit. p. 210.) 
 
 5 Who are these ministering spirits, that the author calls 
 ‘men?’ Are they the glorified inhabitants of the Celestial 
 City ? Moses and Elias appeared at the transfiguration; so 
 the spirit who spake with John, Re. xx. 10, was his fellow- 
 servant. Are these ‘spirits of just men made perfect’—the 
 angel-ministering spirits which are sent forth to minister for 
 them who shall be heirs of salvation? He. i. 14; xii. 22, 2d. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 163 
 
 met in the way ; and they told them. Then said 
 the men that met them, You have hut two difficul¬ 
 ties more to meet with, and then you are in the 
 city. 1 
 
 Christian then, and his companion, asked the 
 men to go along with them ; so they told them they 
 would. But, said they, you must obtain it by 
 your own faith. So I saw in my dream that they 
 went on together, until they came in sight of the 
 gate. 
 
 Now, I further saw, that betwixt them and the 
 
 Death. gate was a river ’ tut tliere was no bridge 
 to go over; the river was very deep. At 
 the sight, therefore, of this river, the Pilgrims 
 were much stunned: but the men that went°with 
 them said, You must go through, or you cannot 
 come at the gate. 2 
 
 The Pilgrims then began to inquire if there was 
 Death is not no ot her way to the gate; to which 
 the y answered, Yes; but there hath 
 ” p £ not an y. save two, to wit, Enoch and 
 world into Elijah, been permitted to tread that 
 path, since the foundation of the world, 
 nor shall, until the last trumpet shall sound. 1 Co. 
 xv. 51 , 52 . The Pilgrims then, especially Christian, 
 began to despond in their minds, and looked this 
 way and that, but no way could be found by them, 
 by which they might escape the river. 3 Then they 
 asked the men if the waters were all of a depth. 
 Angels help us They said, No; yet they could not 
 ably through nclp them in that case; for, said they, 
 death. . you shall find it deeper or shallower, 
 as you believe in the King of the place. 
 
 They then addressed themselves to the water; 
 and entering, Christian began to sink, and crying 
 out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I sink in 
 deep waters; the billows go over my head, all his 
 waves go over me ! Selah. 4 
 
 M’hat are these two difficulties ? Are they not death 
 without, and unbelief within? It is through the latter that 
 the former is all-distressing to us. O for a strong, world- 
 conquering, sin-subduing, death-overcoming faith, in life and 
 ueath ! Jesus, Master, speak the word, unbelief shall flee, our 
 faith shall not fail, and our hope shall be steady.—(Mason.) 
 
 M ell, now the pilgrims must meet with, and encounter, 
 t heir last enemy, death. When he stares them in the face, 
 t eir fears arise. Through the river they must go. What 
 lave they to look at ? What they are in themselves, or what 
 they have done and been ? No. Only the same Jesus who 
 conquered death for us, and can overcome the fear of death in 
 us.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 But tim’rous mortals start and shrink 
 To cross this narrow sea; 
 
 They linger, shivering on the brink, 
 
 And fear to launch away.—(Watts.) 
 
 Evodias could not join in the petition of the Liturgy—' From 
 sudden death, good Lord, deliver us.’ He had his wish: and 
 expired suddenly on a Lord’s-day morning, while thousands 
 were assembling to hear him preach.—(Andronicus.) 
 
 Bunyan died in perfect peace, though it is probable that 
 he expected darkness in the trying hour. Thus he says, in his 
 treatise on Paul's Departure, ‘Aye, this will make thee orv, 
 though thou be as good as David. Wherefore learn by his j 
 
 Then said the other, Be of good cheer, my 
 brother, I feel the bottom, and it is 
 good. Then, said Christian, Ah ! my aS*? c g£ 
 friend, ‘the sorrows of death have hourofdeath - 
 compassed me aboutI 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 heart fears that he should die in that 
 river, and never obtain entrance in at the gate. 
 Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was 
 much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that 
 he had committed, both since and before he began 
 to be a pilgrim. It was also observed that he was 
 troubled with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil 
 spirits; for ever and anon he would intimate so 
 much by words. 5 Hopeful, therefore, here had 
 much ado to keep his brother s head above water; 
 yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and 
 then, ero awhile, he would rise up again half dead. 
 Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, 
 saying, Brother, I see the gate, and men standing 
 by to receive us; but Christian would answer, It 
 is you, it is you they wait for; you have been 
 Hopeful ever since I knew you. 0 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 is said of 
 the wicked, ‘ There are no bands in their death; 
 but their strength is firm. They are not in trouble 
 as other men, neither are they plagued like other 
 men.’ p s . ixxiii. 4, 5. These troubles and distresses 
 that you go through in these waters are no sign 
 that God hath forsaken you; but are sent to try 
 lyou, whether you will call to mind that which 
 
 sorrows to serve % generation, by the will of God, before 
 falling asleep. God can pardon thy sins, and yet make them 
 a bitter thing and a burden at death. It is easy to him to 
 pardon, and yet break all thy boues; or show himself in such 
 dreadful majesty, that heaven and earth shall tremble at his 
 presence. Let the thoughts of this prevail with thee to 
 manage thy time and work in wisdom, while thou art well/ 
 (Vol. i. p. 730 .)—(Ed.) 
 
 Satan is suffered to be very busy with God’s people in 
 their last moments, but he too, like death, is a conquered 
 enemy by our Jesus; therefore, amidst all his attacks, they 
 are sale. He cannot destroy them whom Jesus hath redeemed, 
 tor he is faithful to them, and almighty to save.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 Hopeful, agreeably to his name, was not only preserved 
 from terror, but enabled to encourage his trembling companion; 
 telling him the welcome news that ‘ he felt the bottom, and 
 it was good.’ Blessed experience 1 If Christ is our founda¬ 
 tion, we have nothing to fear, even in the swellings of Jordan, 
 for death itself cannot separate us from the love of Christ.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
164 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 heretofore you have received of his goodness, and 
 live upon him in your distresses. 1 2 
 
 Then I saAV in my dream, that Christian ivas as 
 in a muse a while. To whom also 
 
 < CTeafrom e M9 Hopeful added this word, Be of good 
 tears m death, J e sus Christ maketh thee whole;" 
 
 and with that Christian brake out with a loud 
 voice, 0 ! 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 over¬ 
 flow thee.’ is. xiiii. 2 . Then they both took coinage, 
 and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, 
 until they were gone over. Christian theiefoie 
 presently found ground to stand upon, and so it 
 followed that the rest of the river was but shallow. 
 Thus they got over. 3 Now, upon the hank of the 
 river, on the other side, they saw the 
 
 Tlie angels do .... * 
 
 wait for them, two shining men again, wno tlieie 
 
 STpwSi waited for them; wherefore, being 
 Of this world. come out 0 f the river, they saluted 
 
 them, saying, We are ministering spirits, sent forth 
 to minister for those that shall he heirs of salvation. 
 Thus they went along towards the gate. 4 Now 
 you must note that the city stood upon a mighty 
 hill, but the Pilgrims went up that hill with ease, 
 because they had these two men to lead them up 
 by the arms ; also, they had left their 
 off mortality, mortal garments behind them in tne 
 river, for though they went in with them, they 
 came out without them. They, therefore, went 
 up here with much agility and speed, though the 
 foundation upon which the city was framed was 
 higher than the clouds. 5 They, therefore, went up 
 through the regions of the air, sw eetly talking as 
 they went, being comforted, because they safely 
 got over the river, and had such glorious com¬ 
 panions to attend them. 6 
 
 1 When you visit a sick or death bed, be sure that you take 
 God’s Word with you, iu your heart aud in your mouth. It 
 is from that only that vou may expect a blessing upon, and to 
 the soul of, the sick or the dying; for it is by the Word of 
 God faith came at the first; it is by that, faith is strengthened 
 at the last; and Jesus is the sum and substance of the Scrip¬ 
 tures.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 Jesus Christ, he is indeed the Alpha and Omega, the 
 first and the last, the beginning of our hope, and the end of 
 our confidence. "W e begin aud end the Christian pilgrimage 
 with him; and all our temptations and trials speak loudly, and 
 fully confirm to us that truth of our Lord, ‘Without me ye 
 can do nothing.’ Jn. xv. 5.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 The temporary distresses of dying believers often arise 
 from bodily disease, which interrupt the free exercise of their 
 intellectual powers. Of this Satan will be sure to take advan¬ 
 tage, as far as he is permitted, and will suggest gloomy ima¬ 
 ginations, not only to distress them, but to dishearten others 
 by their example. Generally they who, for a time, have been 
 most distressed, have at length died most triumphantly. 
 (Scott.) 
 
 4 I cannot trust myself to read the account ot Christian 
 going up to the Celestial Gate, after his passage though the 
 River of Death.—(Arnold.) 
 
 5 Bunyan, in his Saints' Knowledge of Christs Love, de¬ 
 
 scribes the feelings of the pilgrim, while clothed with mortality, 
 
 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 Zion, the heavenly Jeru¬ 
 salem, the innumerable company of angels, and 
 the spirits of just men made perfect. He. xii. 22—24. 
 You are going now, said they, to the paradise of 
 God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat 
 of the never-fading fruits thereof; and when you 
 come there, you shall have white robes given you, 
 and your walk and talk shall be every day with 
 the King, even all the days of eternity. Re. ii. 7 ; ffi. 4; 
 xxii. 5 . There you shall not see again such things 
 as you saw when you were in the lower region upon 
 tlie earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and 
 death, ‘ for the former things are passed away. 
 You are now going 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. 7 13. lvii. 1 , 2. lxv. 17 . The men 
 then asked, What must we do in the holy place ? 
 To whom it was answered, You must there receive 
 the comforts of all your toil, and have joy for all 
 your sorrow; you must reap what you have sown, 
 even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and 
 sufferings for the King by the way. Ga. vi. 7 . In 
 that place you must wear crowns of gold, and 
 enjoy the perpetual sight and vision of the Holy 
 One, for ‘ there you shall see him as he is.’ 1 Jn. 
 iii. 2. There also you shall serve him continually 
 with praise, with shouting, and thanksgiving, 
 whom you desired to serve in the world, though 
 with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of 
 your flesh. There your eyes shall be delighted 
 with seeing, and your ears with hearing the plea¬ 
 sant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall 
 enjoy your friends again, that are gone thither 
 before you; and there you shall with joy receive, 
 even every one that follows into the holy place 
 
 looking up to the heights of heaven. Christ could mount up 
 
 _Elijah had a chariot of fire—Enoch was taken by God. But 
 
 I, poor I, how shall I get thither ? How often are considering 
 thoughts wanting in professors! The question is happily solved 
 in Christian and Hopeful’s experience; they left all their 
 mortal garments and burdens behind them in the river, and 
 their free spirits for the first time felt the sweets of liberty in 
 their perfection—(E d.) 
 
 6 I know that all who go to paradise, are conducted thither 
 by these holy ones; but yet, for all that, such as die under the 
 cloud, for unchristian walking with God, may meet with dark¬ 
 ness on that day, and go heavily hence. But as for those who 
 have been faithful to their God, they shall see before them, or 
 from earth see glory.—(Bunyan’s Faul’s Departure, vol. i. 
 
 p. 741 .) . . 
 
 7 Ah, Christian! None can conceive or describe what it is to 
 
 live in a state separate from a body of sin and death. Surely in 
 some happy, higlily-favoured moments, we have had a glimpse, 
 a foretaste of this, and could realize it by faith. O for more 
 and more of this, till we possess and enjoy it in all its fulness! 
 If Jesus be so sweet to faith below, who can tell what he is in 
 full fruition above P This we must die to know.—(Mason.) 
 
OF UiE 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 165 
 
 after you. There also shall you be clothed with 
 glory and majesty, and put into an equipage fit to 
 ride out with the King of glory. When he shall 
 come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon 
 the wings of the wind, 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. 1 Th. lv. 13 - 17 . Jude 14 . Da. vii. 9,10. 1 Co. vi. 2,3. 
 Also when he shall again return to the city, you 
 shall go too, with sound of trumpet, and be ever 
 with him. 
 
 Now, while they were thus drawing towards the 
 gate, behold a company of the heavenly host came 
 out to meet them; to whom it was said, by the 
 other two Shining Ones, These are the men that 
 have loved our Lord when they were in the world, 
 and that have left all for his holy name; and he 
 hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought 
 them thus far on their desired journey, that they 
 may go in and look their Redeemer in the face 
 with joy. Then the heavenly host gave a great 
 shout, saying, ‘ Blessed are they which are called 
 unto the marriage supper of the Lamb.’ Re. xix. 9. 
 There came out also at this time to meet them, 
 several of the King’s trumpeters, clothed in white 
 and shining raiment, who, with 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 it were to 
 guard them through the upper regions), continu¬ 
 ally sounding as they went, with melodious noise, 
 in notes on high; so that the very sight was to 
 them that could behold it, as if heaven itself was 
 come down to meet them. 1 2 Thus, therefore, they 
 
 1 Bunyan has, with great beauty and probability, brought 
 in the ministry of angels, and regions of the air, to be passed 
 through in their company, rising, and still rising, higher and 
 higher, before they come to that mighty mount on which he 
 has placed the gates of the Celestial City. The angels receive 
 his pilgrims as they come up from the River of Death, and 
 form for them a bright, glittering, seraphic, loving convoy, 
 whose conversation prepares them gradually for that exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory which is to be theirs as they enter 
 in at the gate. Bunyan has thus, in this blissful passage from 
 the river to the gate, done what no other devout writer, or 
 dreamer, or speculator, that we are aware of, has ever done; 
 he has filled what perhaps in most minds is a mere blank, a 
 vacancy, or at most a bewilderment and mist of glory, with 
 definite and beatific images, with natural thoughts, and with 
 the sympathizing communion of gentle spirits, who form, as it 
 were, an outer porch and perspective of glory, through which 
 the soul passes into uncreated light. Bunyan has thrown a 
 bridge, as it were, for the imagination, over the deep, sudden. 
 
 walked on together; and as they walked, ever and 
 anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, 
 would, by mixing their music with looks and ges¬ 
 tures, still signify to Christian and his brother, 
 how welcome they were into their company, and 
 with what gladness they came to meet them; and 
 now were these two men, as it were, in heaven, 
 before they came at it, being swallowed up with 
 the sight of angels, and with hearing of their 
 melodious notes. Here also they had the city 
 itself in view, and they thought they heard all the 
 bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto. 
 But above all, the warm and joyful thoughts that 
 they had about their own dwelling there, with such 
 company, and that for ever and ever. 0 by what 
 tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed ! J 
 And thus they came up to the gate. 
 
 Now, when they were come up to the gate, there 
 was written over it in letters of gold, ‘Blessed are 
 they that do his commandments, that they may 
 have right to the tree of life, and may enter in 
 through the gates into the city.’ Re. xxii. 14. 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that the Shining Men 
 bid them call at the gate; the which, when they 
 did, some looked from above over the gate, to wit, 
 Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, &c., to whom it was 
 said, These pilgrims are come from the City of 
 Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King 
 of this place; and then the pilgrims gave in unto 
 them each man his certificate, 3 which they had 
 received in the beginning; those, therefore, were 
 carried into the King, who, when he had read 
 them, said, Where are the men ? To whom it was 
 answered, They are standing without the gate. 
 The King then commanded to open the gate, 
 
 open space of an untried spiritual existence; where it finds, 
 ready to receive the soul that leaves the body, ministering 
 spirits, sent forth to minister unto them who are to be heirs 
 of salvation.—(Cheever.) 
 
 2 Glory beyond all glory ever seen 
 By waking sense, or by the dreaming soul! 
 
 The appearance, instantaneously disclosed. 
 
 Was of a mighty City—boldly say 
 A wilderness of building, sinking far. 
 
 And self-withdrawn into a wondrous depth. 
 
 Far sinking into splendour without end! 
 
 Fabric it seemed of diamond and of gold, 
 
 With alabaster domes and silver spires. 
 
 And blazing terrace upon terrace, high 
 Uplifted: here, serene pavilions bright, 
 
 In avenues disposed; there, towers begirt 
 With battlements, that on their restless fronts 
 Bore stars—illumination of all gems! 
 
 — (WordswortL.) 
 
 3 A certificate. 
 
 To show thou seest thyself most desolate ; 
 
 Writ by the Master, with repentance seal'd. 
 
 To show also that here [by Christ] thou would’st be healed. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 And that thou dost abhor thee for thy ways. 
 
 And would’st in holiness spend all thy days. 
 
 —(Bunyan’s House of God , vol. ii. p. 5 SO. 
 
166 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ‘ That the righteous nation,’ said he, ‘which keep- 
 eth the truth, may enter in.’ 1 is. xxvi. 2. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream that these two men 
 went in at the gate; and lo, as they entered, they 
 were transfigured, and they had raiment put on 
 that shone like gold. There were also that met 
 them with harps and crowns, and gave them to 
 them—the harps to praise withal, and the crowns 
 in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream 
 that all the bells in the city rang again for joy, 
 and that it was said unto them, ‘ Enter ye in.to 
 the joy of your Lord.’ 2 I also heard the men 
 themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, 
 saying, ‘ Blessing, and honour, and glory, and 
 
 POWER, BE UNTO HIM THAT SITTETH UPON THE THRONE, 
 AND UNTO THE LAMB, FOR EVER AND EVER.’ Re. v. 13. 
 
 Now just as the gates were opened to let in the 
 looked in after them, and, behold, the City 
 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.’ Re. iv. 8. 
 And after that, they shut up the gates; which, 
 when I had seen, I wished myself among them. 
 
 Now while I Avas gazing upon all these things, 
 
 ignorance comes I turned my head to look back, and 
 up to the nver, saw Ignorance come up to the river 
 
 side; but he soon got over, and that without half 
 that difficulty which the other two men met with. 3 
 
 1 Blessed indeed is that man who, while encumbered with 
 a sinful body, can truly say, ‘ I live, yet not I, but Christ 
 liveth in me.’ In him all the commandments are obeyed— 
 all my sins washed away by his blood—and my soul clothed 
 with righteousness and immortality. Blessed are the dead 
 who die in the Lord: they enter the Celestial City. This is 
 the righteous nation, which keepeth the truth. 0 my reader, 
 would you be one of the glorified inhabitants of that city 
 whose builder and maker is God ? Then must you live the 
 life of faith; so run that ye may obtain; ever be found looking 
 unto Jesus.— (Ed.) 
 
 ‘ Prepare me, Lord, for thy right hand. 
 
 Then come the joyful day; 
 
 Come death, and some celestial band. 
 
 And fetch my soul away.’ 
 
 2 0 what acclamations of joy will there be, when all the 
 children of God meet together, without the fear of being 
 disturbed by Antichrist! How will the heavens echo of joy, 
 when the Bride, the Lamb’s wife, shall come to dwell with her 
 husband! If you tvould be better satisfied what the beatific 
 vision means, my request is, that you would live holily, and 
 thus go and see. Christ is the desire of all nations, the joy 
 of angels, the delight of the Father. What solace, then, 
 must that soul be filled with, which hath the possession of 
 Christ to all eternity ?—(Bunyan’s Dying Sayings, vol. i. pp. 
 64, 65.) 
 
 3 When a formal visit from a minister, a few general ques¬ 
 tions, and a prayer, with or without the sacrament, calm the 
 mind of a dying person, whose life has been unsuitable to the 
 Christian profession; no doubt, could we penetrate the veil, we 
 should see him svafted across the river in the boat of Vain- 
 
 hope, and meeting with the awful doom that is here described. 
 From such fatal delusions, good Lord, deliver us!—(Scott.) 
 
 men, 
 
 shone 
 
 For it happened that there Avas then in that place, 
 one Vain-hope , 4 a ferryman, that Avith vain-hope does 
 his boat helped him over; so he, as ferry ^ over - 
 the other I saAv, did ascend the hill, to come up to 
 the gate, only he came alone ; neither did any man 
 meet him Avitli the least encouragement. When 
 he Avas come up to the gate, he looked up to the 
 writing that Avas above, and then began to knock, 
 supposing that entrance should have been quickly 
 administered to him ; but he was asked by the men 
 that looked over the top of the gate, Whence came 
 you ? and what Avould you have ? He ansAvered, 
 I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, 
 and he has taught in our streets. Then they 
 asked him for his certificate, that they might go in 
 and show it to the King; so he fumbled in his 
 bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, 
 Have you none ? But the man answered never a 
 word. So they told the King, but he would not 
 come doAvn 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 aAvay. 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 ! 0 So I awoke, 
 and behold it Avas a dream. 
 
 4 Vain-hope ever dwells in the bosom of fools, and is ever 
 ready to assist Ignorance. He wanted him at the last, and he 
 found him. He had been his companion through life, and will 
 not forsake him in the hour of death. You see Ignorance had 
 no pangs in his death, no fears, doubts, and sorrows, no terror 
 from the enemy, but all was serene and happy. Vain-hope 
 was his ferryman; and he, as the good folks say, died like a 
 lamb. Ah, but did such lambs see what was to follow, when 
 Vain-hope had wafted them over the river, they would roar 
 like lions!—(Mason.) 
 
 6 This is a most awfid conclusion. Consider it deeply. Weigh 
 it attentively, so as to get good satisfaction from the Word to 
 these important questions:—Am I in Christ, the way, the 
 only way, to the kingdom, or not ? Do I see that all other 
 ways, whether of sin or self-righteousness, lead to hell ? Does 
 Christ dwell in my heart by faith ? Am I a new creature in 
 him ? Do I renounce my oavu righteousness, as well as abhor 
 my sins ? Do I look alone to Christ for righteousness, and 
 depend only on him for holiness? Is he the only hope of my 
 soul, and the only confidence of my heart ? And do I desire 
 to be found in him; knowing by the Word, and feeling by the 
 teaching of his Spirit, that I am totally lost in myself? Thus, 
 is Christ formed in me, the only hope of glory ? Do I study 
 to please him, as well as hope to enjoy him? Is fellowship 
 with God the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ, so prized by 
 me, as to seek it, and to esteem it above all things ? If so, 
 though I may find all things in nature, in the world, and 
 from Satan, continually opposing this, yet I am in Christ 
 the way, and he is in me the truth and the life.— (Mason.) 
 How far may such an one go? This important question 
 is very solemnly argued in Bunyan’s Law and Grace. He 
 may be received into church-fellowship—and, like the foolish 
 virgins , be clear from outward pollution—have gone forth 
 from the rudiments and traditions of men—and had their 
 lamps, but still lost their precious souls. They may bear office 
 in the church, as Judas carried the bag, and as Demas! They 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 167 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 Now, Header, I have told my dream to thee; 
 See if thou canst interpret it to me, 
 
 Or to thyself, or neighbour; but take heed 
 Of misinterpreting; for that, instead 
 Of doing good, will but thyself abuse : 
 
 By misinterpreting, evil ensues. 
 
 may become preachers and ministers of the gospel, with rare 
 gifts, and a fluent tongue, like an angel, to speak of the hidden 
 mysteries; but may die uuder the curse. They may have 
 the gifts of the Spirit and prophecy, and be but a Balaam. 
 They may stand thus until Christ come and reveal them. 
 They may, with confidence, say. Lord, Lord, have we not 
 eaten and drank in thy presence, aud taught in thy name, and 
 in thy name have cast out devils ? and yet, poor creatures, be 
 shut out!— (Ed.) 
 
 Take heed also, that thou be not extreme, 
 
 In playing with the outside of my dream: 
 
 Nor let my figure or similitude 
 Put thee into a laughter or a feud. 
 
 Leave this for boys and fools; but as for thee. 
 Do thou the substance of my matter see. 
 
 Put by the curtains, look within my veil, 
 Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail; 
 
 There, if thou seekest them, such things to find, 
 As will be helpful to an honest mind. 
 
 What of my dross thou findest there, be bold 
 To throw away, but yet preserve the gold; 
 
 What if my gold be wrapped up in ore ? — 
 None throws away the apple for the core. 
 
 But if thou slialt cast all away as vain, 
 
 1 know not but ’twill make me dream again. 
 
 THE END OF THE FIRST FART. 
 
THE PILGRIM’S 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.* 
 
 By JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 ‘ I have used similitudes .’—Hosea xii. 10. 
 
 London : Printed for Nathaniel Ponder, at the Peacock in the Poultry, near the Church, 1684. 
 
 THE AUTHOR’S WAY 
 
 OF 
 
 SENDING FOETH HIS SECOND PART OF THE PILGRIM. 
 
 Go now, my little book, to every place, 
 
 'Where my first Pilgrim lias but shown his face, 
 
 Ca’j 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 they know them by their looks, or name. 
 But if they should not, ask them yet again 
 If formerly they did not entertain 
 One Christian, a Pilgrim ? If they say 
 They did; and were delighted in his way: 
 
 Then let them know, that 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 
 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, 
 
 Tho’ they meet with rough winds, and swelling tides, 
 
 How brave a calm they will enjoy at last, 
 
 Who to their Lord, and by his ways hold fast. 
 
 Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace 
 Thee, as they did my firstling, and will grace 
 Thee, and thy fellows, with such cheer and fare, 
 
 As show will they of Pilgrims lovers are. 
 
 OBJECTION i. 
 
 But how, if they will not believe of me 
 That I am truly thine; ’cause some there be 
 That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name. 
 
 Seek, by disguise, to seem the very same; 
 
 And by that means have wrought themselves into 
 The hands and houses of I know not who F 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 ’Tis true, some have of late, to counterfeit 
 My Pilgrim, to their own my title set; 1 
 Yea others, half my name and title too 
 Have stitched to their book, to make them do; 
 
 But yet they, by their features, do declare 
 Themselves not mine to be, whose e’er they are. 
 
 If such thou meet’st with, then thine only -way 
 Before them all, is, to say out thy say, 
 
 In thine own native language, which no man 
 Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can. 
 
 If, after all, they still of you shall doubt. 
 
 Thinking that you, like gipsies, go about 
 
 1 In 1683, the year before Runyan published his Second 
 Part, a little volume was printed under the same title, by some 
 anonymous author; for a description of it, see the Introduc¬ 
 tion, p. 57 .—(Ed.) 
 
THE AUTHOR’S WAY OF SENDING FORTH IIIS SECOND PART. 
 
 169 
 
 In naughty wise, the country to defile, 
 
 Or that you seek good people to beguile 
 With things unwarrantable; send for me, 
 
 And I will testify you Pilgrims be. 
 
 Yea, I will testify that only you 
 My Pilgrims are; and that alone will do. 
 
 OBJECTION II. 
 
 But yet, perhaps, I may inquire for him, 
 
 Of those that wish him damned, life and limb. 
 What shall I do, when I at such a door 
 1 or Pilgrims ask, aud they shall rage the more ? 1 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 Fright not thyself, my book, for such bugbears 
 Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears. 
 My Pilgrim’s book has travell’d sea and land. 
 
 Yet could I never come to understand 
 That it was slighted, or turn’d out of door 
 By any kingdom, w r ere they rich or poor. 
 
 In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, 
 My Pilgrim is esteem’d a friend, a brother. 
 
 In Holland too, ’tis said, as I am told, 
 
 My Pilgrim is with some worth more than gold. 
 
 Highlanders and wild Irish can agree 
 My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 
 
 ’Tis in New England under such advance, 
 Receives there so much loving countenance. 
 
 As to be trimm’d, new cloth’d, and deck’d with gems 
 That it may show its features and its limbs, 
 
 I et more; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk, 
 
 That of him thousands daily sing and talk. 2 
 
 If you draw nearer home, it will appear. 
 
 My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear; 
 City and country will him entertain 
 With, Welcome Pilgrim; yea, they can’t refrain 
 From smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by. 
 
 Or shows Ills head in any company. 
 
 Brave gallants do my Pilgrim hug and love, 
 Esteem it much, yea, value it above 
 Things of a greater bulk: yea, with delight. 
 
 Say, My lark’s leg is better than a kite. 
 
 Young ladies, and young gentlewomen too, 
 
 Ho no small kindness to my Pilgrim show. 
 
 Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts, 
 
 My Pilgrim has, ’cause he to them imparts 
 
 1 ^ hile the carnal heart is in a state of such bitter enmity 
 against the gospel, it requires wisdom to introduce the subject 
 ot religion; still we have a duty to perform, even if the truth 
 should prove a savour of death unto death. We must live the 
 gospel in the sight of such, and not be daunted from inviting 
 them to become pilgrims to the Celestial City.— (Ed.) 
 
 I went over the Tract House in New York, and was de¬ 
 lighted to see there six steam-presses. During the last year, 
 
 they printed seventeen thousand copies of Bunyan’s 
 
 4 Pilgrim’s Progress.’— {American Scenes , by Eben. Davies, 
 Loudon, 1849, p. 299.) 
 
 VOL. m. 
 
 Ilis 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 call’d him fool and noddy, say they must, 
 
 Now they have seen and heard him, him commend 
 And to those wdiom they love, they do him send. 3 4 
 
 Wherefore, my Second Part, thou need’st not be 
 Afraid to show thy head; none can hurt thee, 
 
 That wish but well to him that went before, 
 
 ’Cause thou com’st after with a second store 
 Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, 
 
 For young, for old, for stagg’ring, and for stable. 
 
 OBJECTION III. 
 
 But some there be that say, He laughs too loud; 
 And some do say, His head is in a cloud. 
 
 Some say, His words and stories are so dark, 
 
 They know not how, by them, to find his mark. 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 One may, I think, say, Both his laughs and cries, 
 May well be guess’d at by his wat’ry eyes. 
 
 Some things are of that nature, as to make 
 One’s fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache. 
 When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep, 
 
 He did at the same time both kiss and weep. 
 
 Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head, 
 
 That doth but show how wisdom’s covered 
 With its own mantles, and to stir the mind 
 To a search after what it fain would find. 
 
 Tilings 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 
 IVill on the fancy more itself intrude. 
 
 And will stick faster in the heart and head, 
 
 Than things from similes not borrowed. 
 
 3 This poem was written within six years of the first publi¬ 
 cation of the First Part. In that short period it had become 
 so wonderfully popular as to have been extensively circulated 
 in the languages which the author names, and to have had a 
 large circulation in America. After another four years, namely 
 in 1688, upwards of one hundred thousand copies had been 
 issued in English; and to the present time it has been steadily 
 increasing in popularity, so that, after one hundred and seventy 
 years have elapsed, it is more popular than ever. This is a fact 
 without parallel in the annals of literature.—(E d.) 
 
 22 
 
170 
 
 THE AUTHOR’S WAY 01’ SENDING FORTH HIS SECOND PART. 
 
 "Wherefore, my book, let no discouragement 
 Hinder thy travels. Behold, thou art sent 
 To friends, not foes; to friends that will give place 
 To thee, thy Pilgrims, and thy words embrace. 
 
 Besides, what my first Pilgrim left conceal’d: 
 Thou, my brave second Pilgrim, hast reveal’d; 
 
 What Christian left lock’d up, and went his way, 
 Sweet Christiana opens with her key. 1 
 
 OBJECTION IV. 
 
 But some love not the method of your first; * 
 Romance they count it, throw’t away as dust, 
 
 If I should meet with such, what should I say ? 
 Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay ? 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 My Christiana, if with such thou meet, 
 
 By all means, in all loving-wise, them greet; 
 
 Bender them not reviling for revile; 
 
 But if they frown, I prithee on them smile; 
 
 Perhaps ’tis nature, or some ill report, 
 
 Has made them thus despise, or thus retort. 
 
 Some love no cheese, some love no fish, and some 
 Love not their friends, nor their own house or home; 
 Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl, 
 More than they love a cuckoo, or an owl; 
 
 Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice. 
 
 And seek those who to find thee will rejoice; 
 
 By no means strive, but in bumble-wise, 
 
 Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim’s guise. 
 
 Go, then, my little book, and show to’ all 
 That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall, 
 
 What thou shalt keep close, shut up from the rest, 
 And wish what thou shalt show them may be blest 
 To them for,good, may make them choose to be 
 Pilgrims better by far than thee or me. 
 
 Go, then, I say, tell all men who thou art; 
 
 Say, I am Christiana, and my part 
 Is now, with my four sons, to tell you what 
 It is for men to take a Pilgrim’s lot. 
 
 Go also, tell them who and what they be. 
 
 That now do go on pilgrimage with thee; 
 
 Say, Here’s my neighbour, Mercy, she is one 
 That has long time with me a Pilgrim gone. 
 
 Come, see her in her virgin iaee, 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, 
 Hosanna! to whom old ones did deiide. 
 
 1 After the author had heard the criticisms of friends and 
 foes upon the First Part, he adopts this second narrative to be 
 a key explaining many things which appeared dark in Chris¬ 
 tian’s journey.—(E d.) 
 
 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 be 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 Feeble-mind also, 
 
 Who, not before, but still behind would go. 
 
 Show them also, how he had like been slain. 
 
 And how one Great-heart did his life regain. 
 
 This man was true of heart, though weak in grace, 
 One might true godliness read in his face. 
 
 Then tell them of Master Ready-to-halt, 
 
 A man with crutches, but much without fault; 
 
 Tell them how Master Feeble-mind and he 
 Did love, and in opinions much agree. 
 
 And let all know, though weakness was their chance, 
 Yet sometimes one could sing, the other dance. 
 
 Forget not Master Vaiiant-for-the-truth, 
 
 That man of courage, though 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 Despondency, 
 
 Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, though they lie 
 Under such mantles, as may make them look 
 (With some) as if their God had them forsook. 
 They softly went, but sure, and at the end, 
 
 Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their friend. 
 When thou hast told the world of all these things, 
 Then turn about, my book, and touch these strings, 
 Which, if but touch’d, will such music make. 
 They’ll make a cripple dance, a giant quake. 
 
 These riddles that lie couch’d within thy breast. 
 Freely propound, expound; and for the rest 
 Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain 
 For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain. 
 
 Now may this little book a blessing be 
 To those who love this little book and me; 
 
 And may its buyer have no cause to say, 
 
 His money is but lost or thrown away; 
 
 Yea, may this Second Pilgrim yield that fruit, 
 
 As may with each good Pilgrim’s fancy suit; 
 
 And may it persuade some that go astray, 
 
 To turn their feet and heart to the right way, 
 
 Is the hearty prayer of 
 
 The Author, 
 
 John Bunyan. 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS; 
 
 IN TOE 
 
 SIMILITUDE OE A DREAM. 
 
 THE SECOND PART. 
 
 Courteous Companions, 
 
 Some time since, to tell you my dream that I had 
 of Christian the Pilgrim, and of his dangerous 
 journey towards the Celestial Country, was pleas¬ 
 ant to me, and profitable to you. I told you then, 
 also, what 1 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 showed you, 
 he left them and departed. 1 
 
 Now it hath so happened, through the multi¬ 
 plicity of business, that I have been much hindered 
 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 inquiry after 
 whom he left behind, that I might give you an 
 account of them. 2 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 oft the place, as I slept, I dreamed again. 3 
 
 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 travel¬ 
 ling, methought I got up and went with him. So 
 as we walked, and as travellers usually do, I was 
 
 1 This address prepares the reader for a greater variety of 
 experience and adventures than he meets with in the First 
 Part; all of which are different: and the behaviour of the 
 several pilgrims, under their various calamities, are beautifully 
 described. Their conflicts and their consolations being mani¬ 
 fold, convince us that the exercises of every experienced soul 
 are for the most part dissimilar, notwithstanding, if they pro¬ 
 ceed from the operation of the Spirit, they have the same happy 
 tendency.—(Mason.) The Second Part is peculiarly adapted 
 to direct and encourage female Christians and young persons; 
 and it is hoped will be a blessing to such.—(Burder.) Per¬ 
 haps the Second Part of this pilgrimage comes nearer to the 
 ordinary experience of the great multitude of Christians than 
 the lirst Part; and this may have been Bunyan’s intention. 
 
 '1 he First Part shows, as in Christian, Faithful, and Hopeful, 
 the great examples and strong lights of this pilgrimage; it is 
 as if Paul and Luther were passing over the scene. The 
 
 Second Part shows a variety of pilgrims, whose stature and 
 experience are more on a level with our own. The First Part¬ 
 is more severe, sublime, inspiring; the Second Part is more-' 
 soothing and comforting. The First Part has deep and awful 
 shadows miugled with its light, terribly instructive, and like 
 
 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. 
 
 I thought that was that city, quoth I; 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 ! Aye, and I also heard of 
 the molestations, troubles, wars. captivities, cries, 
 groans, frights, and fears that lie met with and had 
 in liis 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 Christians are 
 pilgrimage; yea, I think I may say Se n ?pok g 0 n n ° f . 
 
 that that his hazardous journey, has though called 
 
 . n • t J i • J fools while 
 
 got a many well-wishers to his ways; they are here. 
 
 warnings from hell and the grave. The Second Part is more 
 continually and uninterruptedly cheerful, full of good nature 
 and pleasantry, and showing the pilgrimage in lights and shades 
 that are common to weaker Christians.—(Cheever.) 
 
 2 The First Part had been published six years, during which 
 time Mr. Bunyan had been so fully occupied by his pastoral 
 labours and frequent preaching in different parts of England, 
 that he had not been able to accomplish his design of publishing 
 A Female Pilgrim’s Progress. He was without exception 
 the most popular preacher of his day.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 The First Part was written in Bedford jail; this is ‘ about 
 a mile off the place,’ at the village of Elstow, where Mr. Bunyan 
 resided, and where his house is still standing—a very humble 
 cottage, and an object of curiosity, as is also the veiy ancient- 
 church and tower. The tower answers to the description of 
 the ‘steeple-house’ in which Mr. Bunyan was engaged in ring¬ 
 ing the bells. ‘ The main beam that lay overthwart the steeple 
 from side to side,’ and under which he stood lest ‘ one of the 
 bells should fall and kill him,’ presents exactly that appear¬ 
 ance.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 V 
 
 • m 
 
 13 
 
 1 
 
 Hi 
 
 111 ' 
 
172 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 for though, when he was here, he was fool in every 
 man’s mouth, yet, now he is gone, he is highly 
 commended of all. For, it is said, he lives bravely 
 where he is; yea, many of them that are resolved 
 never to run his hazards, yet have their mouths 
 water at his gains. 1 
 
 They may, quoth I, well think, if they think 
 anything that is true, that he liveth well where he 
 i3; for he now lives at and in the Fountain of 
 Life, and has what he has without labour and 
 sorrow, for there is no grief mixed therewith. 
 [But, pray, what talk have the people about 
 him ? ] 2 
 
 Sag. Talk! the people talk strangely about 
 him; some say that he now walks in white, Re. 
 iii. 4; vi. li; that lie has a chain of gold about his 
 neck; that he has a crown of gold, beset with 
 pearls, upon his head. Others say that the Shining 
 Ones, that sometimes showed themselves to him in 
 his journey, are become his companions, and that 
 he is as familiar with them in the place where 
 he is as here one neighbour is with another. Be¬ 
 sides, it is confidently affirmed concerning him, 
 that the King of the place where he is has be¬ 
 stowed upon him already a very rich and pleasant 
 dwelling at court, Zee. iii. 7; and that he every day 
 eateth, Lu. xiv. 15, and drinketh, and walketli, and 
 talketh with him; and receiveth of the smiles and 
 favours of him that is Judge of all there. Moreover, 
 it is expected of some, that his Prince, the Lord 
 of that country, will shortly come into these parts, 
 and will know the reason, if they can give any, why 
 his neighbours set so little by him, and had him 
 so much in derision, when they perceived that he 
 would be a pilgrim. Jude 14 , 15 . For, they say, that 
 now he is so in the affections of his Prince, and 
 that his Sovereign is so much concerned with the 
 
 Christian’s King dignities tliat were cast upon Chris- 
 wili take Chris- tian, when he became a pilgrim, that 
 
 he will look upon all as if done unto 
 himself ; 3 * * * and no marvel, for it was for the love 
 
 1 This is quite natural, and very common. The men of this 
 world will canonize those for saints, when dead, whom they 
 stigmatized with the vilest names when living. Besides many 
 others I could mention, this I have peculiarly remarked in 
 respect to that man of God, that faithful minister of Christ, 
 the late Rev. Mr. Whitefield. Scarce any one went through 
 more public reproach than he did; yet how often have I been 
 amazed to hear persons who held him, his character and con¬ 
 duct, in the vilest contempt when living, who, now he is dead, 
 speak in the most respectful manner of him! O let us leave 
 our characters to him who died for our sins, and to whom we 
 can commit our souls.—(Mason.) * The memory of the just 
 is blessed.’ All men’s minds water at a pilgrim’s gains, while 
 they are resolved never to run a pilgrim’s hazards. 
 
 0 let me die liis death! all nature cries: 
 
 Then live his life—all nature falters there. 
 
 2 These words were introduced after the author’s decease. 
 Not being able to discover by what authority they were added, 
 I have put them within brackets.—(E d.) 
 
 3 \\ hat a thunderbolt is this! Reader, have you ever 
 
 that be had to bis Prince that he ventured as he 
 
 did. 4 Lu. x. 16. 
 
 I dare say, quoth I, I am glad on it; I am glad 
 for the poor man’s sake, for that he now has rest 
 from his labour, Re. xiv. 13 ; and for that he now 
 reapeth the benefit of his tears with joy, Ps. exxvi. 
 
 5 , 6; and for that he has got beyond the gunshot 
 of his enemies, and is out of the reach of them 
 that hate him. I also am glad, for that a rumour 
 of these things is noised abroad in this country; 
 who can tell but that it may work some good effect 
 on some that are left behind ? But, pray Sir, 
 while it is fresh in my mind, do you hear anything 
 of his wife and children ? Poor hearts ! I wonder 
 in my mind what they do. 5 
 
 Sag. Who! Christiana and her sons ? They 
 are like to do as well as did Christian Good tidings of 
 himself; for though they all played W Re VmTchii- 
 the fool at the first, and would by no dren - 
 means be persuaded by either the tears or entreaties 
 of Christian, yet second thoughts have wrought 
 wonderfully with them; so they have packed up, 
 and are also gone after him. 6 
 
 Better and better, quoth I. But what! wife 
 and children, and all ? 
 
 Sag. It is true; I can give you an account of 
 the matter, for I was upon the spot at the instant, 
 and was thoroughly acquainted with the whole 
 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 considerable way 
 
 spoken harshly to, or persecuted, a child of God—a poor peni¬ 
 tent sinner ? Hear the word of the Judge of all the earth— 
 
 ‘ Inasmuch as ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, 
 ye have done it unto me.’— (Ed.) Read this and tremble, ye 
 
 who speak evil of those things which ye know not.—(J. B.) 
 
 4 Mark this well. No matter what profession we make, if 
 the love of Christ be not its foundation. All is nothing with¬ 
 out this love. It is this love in the heart that, like oil in the 
 lamp, keeps the profession of Christ burning bright. The 
 more this love is felt, the more ardent the fire of zeal burns, 
 and the more steadily we shall follow on to know the Lord; 
 and never leave off nor give over, till we see and enjoy the 
 
 Lord in his kingdom.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 It is not improbable that Mr. Bunyan had an eye to his 
 own wife and four children, and that these were the leading 
 characters in this religious drama; and also that the history 
 of Christians of his acquaintance furnished the other person¬ 
 ages.—(Ivimey.) The Editor differs in this opinion, believing 
 that all the experience narrated in the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress ’ is 
 drawn from the Sacred Scriptures, and which fits it for every 
 age of the church, to the final consummation of all things. 
 Others have agreed with Mr. Ivimey. Reader, you must 
 form your own opinion.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 Though moral suasion, and all the affectionate arguments 
 from a tender husband, or an affectionate parent, may prove 
 ineffectual for the present; yet, when the Lord works by his 
 mighty power, then only they prove effectual to saving pur¬ 
 poses. Then let us not neglect our duty, but be earnest in 
 it, and leave the event to sovereign grace.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 173 
 
 together, I will give you an account of the whole 
 of the matter. 
 
 This Christiana (for that was her name from the 
 Jay that she, with her children, betook themselves 
 First Part, to a pilgrim’s life), after her husband 
 p. 1G4. was g 0ne 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 enter¬ 
 
 tain the living with many a heavy cogitation in the 
 
 remembrance of the loss of loving relations. This, 
 
 therefore, of her husband did cost her many a tear. 
 
 But this was not all; for Christiana did also 
 
 begin to consider with herself, whether her imbe- 
 
 Mark this, you coming behaviour towards her husband 
 that are churls , ,, , . , . 
 
 to your godly was n °f one cause that she saw him 
 
 relations. n0 more . an d that j n suc h SO rt foe 
 
 was taken away from her. And upon this, came 
 into her mind, by swarms, all her unkind, unna¬ 
 tural, and ungodly carriages to her dear friend; 
 which also clogged her conscience, and did load 
 her with guilt. She w'as, 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 persuasions, of her and her 
 sons, to go with him; yea, there was not anything 
 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 
 
 First Part, that bitter outcry of his, ‘ What shall 
 p. 89. p C | Q save( p ? » r i n g i n h er 
 
 ears most dolefully. 1 2 
 
 Then said she to her children, Sons, we are all 
 undone. I have sinned away your father, and he 
 is gone; he would have had us with him, but I 
 would not go myself. I also have hindered you 
 
 1 Those who cruelly and unkindly treat their godly relations 
 and friends on account of their religion, must come to feel it 
 in the bitterness of their spirit, and groan in the sorrow of 
 their soul, if ever the Lord grants them repentance unto life. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 2 Happy is that death which brings the believer to heaven, 
 and the surviving relatives to Christ; which opens the gate 
 of glory to one, and the door of conversion to the other.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
 ° Is it any marvel, that a quickened enlightened sinner 
 should be judged by those around him, who are yet dead in 
 their sins, to be full of whims and melancholy ? No ! it is 
 very natural for them to think us fools and mad; but we know 
 that they really are so.— (Mason.) 
 
 4 One of God’s ends in instituting marriage is, that, under 
 
 a figure, Christ and his church should be set forth. There is j 
 a sweet scent wrapped up in that relation. Be such a husband 
 to thy believing wife, that she may say, God hath given to me 
 a husband that preacheth Christ’s carriage to the church every 
 day.—It thy wife be unbelieving, thou hast a duty to perform j 
 under a double obligation ; for she is liable every moment to 
 eternal ruin. O how little sense of the worth of souls is there 
 
 of life." With that the boys fell all into tears, 
 and cried out to go after their father. 0 ! said 
 Christiana, that it had been but our lot to go with 
 him, then had it fared well with us, beyond what 
 it is like to do now; for though I formerly fool¬ 
 ishly 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 it will not out of my 
 mind but that they sprang from another cause, to 
 wit, for that the Light of light was given him, Ja. i. 
 23-25 ; by the help of which, as I perceive, he has 
 escaped the snares of death. 3 Then they all wept 
 again, and cried out, 0 woe worth the day! 4 
 
 The next night Christiana had a dream; and, 
 behold, she saw as if a broad parch- Christiana’s 
 ment was opened before her, in which dream * 
 were recorded the sum of her ways, Lu. xviii. is; and 
 the times, as she thought, looked very black upon 
 her. Then she cried out aloud in her sleep, 
 ‘ Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner! ’ 5 and the 
 little children heard her. 
 
 After this, she thought she saw two very ill* 
 favoured ones standing by her bed- . ,,, 
 
 . __ T1 ° J Mark this, this 
 
 side, and saying, What shall we do is the quint- 
 • ,i • o ty i • , essence of hell. 
 
 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 can¬ 
 not help it but she will become a pilgrim. 
 
 Now she awoke in a great sweat, also a trem¬ 
 bling was upon her; but after a while she fell to 
 sleeping again. And then she thought she saw 
 Christian her husband in a place of Help against 
 bliss, among many immortals, with a cllscoura s eili ent. 
 harp in his hand, standing and playing upon it 
 before one that sat on a throne, with a rainbow 
 
 in the hearts of some husbands! This is manifest bv their 
 
 * 
 
 unchristian carriage to and before their wives.—Wives also 
 should be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to 
 their own husbands. Why ? Because, otherwise, the Word 
 of God will be blasphemed. Tit. ii. 5. Take heed of an idling, 
 talking, wrangling tongue. It is odious in maids or wives to 
 be like parrots, not bridling the tongue. It is unseemly to see 
 a woman, as much as once in her lifetime, to offer to over-top 
 her husband. I do not intend that women should be slaves 
 by this subjection: ‘Let every man love his wife as himself, 
 and the wife see that she reverence her husband.’ Ep. v. 83. 
 Abigail would not speak a word to her churlish husband until 
 he was in a sober temper, and his wine gone out of him.— 
 (Banyan’s Christian Behaviour , vol. ii. pp. 558—561.) 
 
 5 This is the first cry of an awakened sinner—mercy for the 
 lost and miserable; and no sooner are the sinner’s eyes opened 
 to see his ruined, desperate state, and to cry for mercy, but the 
 god of this world, who hitherto had blinded the eyes, and kept 
 the heart securely by presumption, now opposes the sinner’s 
 progress to a throne of grace, to a God of mercy, and to the 
 Saviour of the lost. Satan does not easily part with his prey. 
 But Jesus, the strong man, armed with almighty power and 
 everlasting love, will conquer and cast him out. That is the 
 sinner’s mercy, or none could ever be saved.—(Mason.) 
 
174 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 about his head. She saw also as if he bowed his 
 head, with his face to the paved work that was 
 under the Prince’s feet, saying, I 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. 1 
 
 Next morning, when she was up, had prayed to 
 
 God, and talked with her children a while, one 
 
 knocked hard at the door, to whom she spake out, 
 
 saying, If thou comest in God’s name, come in. So 
 
 he said, Amen, and opened the door, and saluted 
 
 her with ‘ Peace be to this house.’ The which, 
 
 when he had done, he said, Christiana, knowest 
 
 „ . ,. thou Wherefore I am come ? Then she 
 
 Convictions 
 
 seconded with blushed and trembled, also her heart 
 
 God’s reach- began to wax warm with desires to 
 ness to pardon. ]- now w R en ce lie came, and what was 
 
 his errand to her. So he said unto her, My name 
 is Secret ; 2 I dwell with those that are high. It is 
 talked of, where I dwell, as if thou hadst a desire 
 to go thither; also, there is a report, that thou 
 art aware of the evil thou hast formerly done to 
 thy husband, in hardening of thy heart against 
 his way, and in keeping of these thy babes in their 
 ignorance. Christiana, the Merciful One has sent 
 me to tell thee, that he is a God ready to forgive, 
 and that he taketh delight to multiply to pardon 
 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 all be glad when they shall hear the sound of 
 thy feet step over thy Father’s threshold. 
 
 Christiana at this was greatly abashed in her¬ 
 self, and bowing her head to the ground, this 
 Visitor proceeded, and said, Christiana, here is 
 
 1 The mind, during sleep, is often occupied with those sub¬ 
 jects that have most deeply engaged the waking thoughts; and 
 it sometimes pleases God to make use of ideas thus suggested, 
 to influence the conduct by exciting fears or hopes. But if we 
 attempt to draw conclusions on doctrines, or to discover hidden 
 things by them, it becomes a dangerous species of enthusiasm. 
 —(Scott.) There is no just reason to doubt that God still 
 employs dreams for the conversion of sinners. ‘ In a dream, 
 in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in 
 slumberings upon the bed; then he openeth the ears of men, 
 and sealeth their instruction.’ Job xxxiii. 15, 16.—(Ivimey.) 
 Dreams are sometimes of use to warn and encourage a Chris¬ 
 tian, and seem to he really ‘from God;’ but great caution is 
 necessary, lest they mislead us, as they do weak and enthusi¬ 
 astic persons. They must never be depended on as the ground 
 of hope, or th test of our state; nothing must be put in the 
 place of the Word of God.—(Burder.) 
 
 2 ‘ The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom,’ Ps. 
 cxi. 10 ; and ‘ the secret of the Lord is with them that fear 
 him.’ Ps. xxv. 14. The Spirit, the Comforter, never con- 
 
 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 per¬ 
 fume, Ca. i. 3; also it was written in letters of gold. 
 The contents of the letter was, That the King 
 would have her do as did Christian her husband; 
 for that was the way to come to his city, and to 
 dwell in his presence with joy for ever. Christiana quite 
 At this the good woman was quite 
 overcome; so she cried out to her visitor, Sir, will 
 you carry me and my children with you, that we 
 also may go and worship this King ? 
 
 Then said the visitor, Christiana, the bitter is 
 before the sweet. Thou must through rurtherinstruC u 
 troubles, as did he that went before tion to Chiis- 
 thee, enter this Celestial City. Where- tmna ‘ 
 fore I advise thee to do as did Christian thy hus¬ 
 band. Go to the wicket-gate yonder, over the plain, 
 for that stands in the head of the way up which 
 thou must go, and I wish thee all good speed. Also 
 I advise that thou put this letter in thy bosom; 
 that thou read therein to thyself, and to thy child¬ 
 ren, until you have got it by rote of heart, 3 for it 
 is one of the songs that thou must sing while thou 
 art in this house of thy pilgrimage, Ps. cxix. 54; also 
 this thou must deliver in at the further gate. 4 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentle¬ 
 man, as he told me this story, did himself seem 
 to be greatly affected therewith. He, moreover, 
 proceeded and said, So Christiana called her sons 
 tog-ether, and began thus to address herself unto 
 them: My sons, I have, as you may C]iristianapray3 
 perceive, been of late under much yell for her 
 exercise in my soul, about the death J0umey- 
 of your father; not for that I doubt at all of his 
 happiness, for I am satisfied now that he is well. 
 I have been also much affected with the thoughts 
 of mine own state and yours, which I verily be¬ 
 lieve 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 
 
 vinces the soul of sin, hut he also revives and comforts the 
 heart with glad tidings of free and full pardon of sin, through 
 the blood of the Lamb.—(Mason.) Probably the name of this 
 visitor was derived from what was said by the heavenly visitor 
 to Manoah. Ju. xiii. 18.—(Ivimey.) The silent influences of 
 the Holy Spirit are here personified. The intimations of 
 
 Secret represent the teachings of the Holy Spirit, by which 
 the sinner understands the real meaning of the Sacred Scrip¬ 
 tures as to the way of salvation.—(Scott, abridged.) 
 
 3 ‘ Rote of heart;’ ‘ rote ’ is to commit to memory, so as to 
 be able to repeat fluently, as a wheel runs round, but without 
 attaching any idea or sense to the words; ‘ rote of heart ’ is to 
 do this with a full understanding of the meaning.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 As the Spirit testifies of Christ, so he leads the soul to 
 Christ, that he may be the sinner’s only hope, righteousness, 
 and strength. Thus he glorifies Christ.—(Mason.) 
 
 But bring thou with thee a certificate, 
 
 To show thou seest thyself most desolate; 
 
 Writ by the Master, with repentance seal’d. 
 
 —(.House of God, vol. ii. p. 580.) 
 
TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 175 
 
 and yours against him, and refused to go with him 
 on pilgrimage. 1 
 
 The thoughts of these things 'would now kill me 
 outright, but that for a dream which I had last 
 night, and but for the encouragement that this 
 stranger has given me this morning. Come, my 
 children, let us pack up and begone to the gate 
 that leads to the Celestial Country, that we may 
 see your father, and be with him and his com¬ 
 panions in peace, according to the laws of that 
 land. 
 
 Then did her children burst out into tears for 
 joy, that the heart of their mother was so inclined. 2 
 So their visitor bade them farewell; and they began 
 to prepare to set out for their journey. 
 
 But while they were thus about to be gone, two 
 of the women, that -were Christiana’s neighbours, 
 came up to her house, and knocked at her door. 
 To whom she said as before, If you come in God’s 
 Christiana’s name, come in. At this the women 
 sums 1 iief U ofd were stunned; for this kind of lan- 
 neighbours. guage they used not to hear, or to 
 perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana. 3 4 Yet 
 they came in; but, behold, they found the good 
 woman a-preparing to be gone from her house. 
 
 So they began and said, Neighbour, pray what 
 is your meaning by this ? 
 
 Christiana answered and said to the eldest of 
 them, whose name was Mrs. Timorous, I am pre- 
 First Part, paring for a journey. (This Timorous 
 
 p. I 0 o. was daughter to him that met Chris¬ 
 tian upon the Hill Difficulty, and would have had 
 him go back for fear of the lions.) 
 
 Tim. For what journey, I pray you? 
 
 Christ. Even to go after my good husband. And 
 with that she fell a-weeping. 
 
 1 Blessed penitence ! Christian’s children, when he set out 
 in his pilgrimage, had been liable to Mr. Bunyan’s severe 
 remarks in his valuable book on Christian Behaviour -.— C I 
 observe a vile spirit amongst some children, who overlook, or 
 have slighting or scornful thoughts of their parents. Such an 
 one hath got just the heart of a dog or a beast, that will bite 
 those that begot them. But my father is poor, and I am rich, 
 and it will be a hinderance to me to respect him. I tell thee, 
 thou arguest like an atheist and a beast, and standest full flat 
 against the Son of God. Mar. vii. 9—13. Must a little of the 
 glory of the butterfly make thee not honour thy father and 
 mother ? Little dost thou know how many prayers, sighs, and 
 tears have been wrung from their hearts on thine account.’ 
 —(Vol. ii. pp. 562, 563.)—(Ed.) 
 
 2 The awakening of a sinner may be effected by very dif¬ 
 ferent means. Lydia’s heart was opened through attending to 
 Paul’s ministry; the jailer’s, through the alarm produced in 
 his mind by the fear of disgrace and punishment. Christian 
 w’as brought to a sense of his lost condition by reading the 
 Scriptures; Christiana, by reflecting, after the death of her 
 husband, upon her unkind treatment of him on account of his 
 religion, the thought of which ‘ rent the caul of her heart in 
 sunder;’ and the four boys, by the conversation of their mother 
 with them about their departed father, and about her having 
 neglected their souls. Religion is a personal concern, and 
 begins with repentance and sorrow for sin. Children are not 
 saved by the faith of their parents, but must be individually 
 
 Tim. I hope not so, good neighbour; pray, for 
 
 your poor children’s sakes, do not so ^ 
 
 , Timorous comes 
 
 unwomanly cast away yourself. to visit ciiris- 
 
 ClIRIST. Nay, my children shall go Mercy;, one h 0 f 
 with me, not one of them is willing to bernei g llbou ra. 
 stay behind. 
 
 Tim. I wonder, in my very heart, what, or who 
 has brought you into this mind. 
 
 CnRiST. Oh! neighbour, knew you but as much 
 as I do, I doubt not but that you would go with me. 
 
 Tim. Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou 
 got, that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, 
 and that tempteth thee to go, nobody knows where ? 
 
 Christ. Then Christiana replied, I have been 
 sorely afflicted since my husband’s departure from 
 me; but especially since he went over the 
 river. But that which troubleth me most, I)eath ' 
 is my churlish carriages to him, when he was under 
 his distress. Besides, I am now as he was then ; 
 nothing will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I 
 was a- dreaming last night that I saw him. 0 that 
 my soul was with him ! He dwelleth in the pre¬ 
 sence of the King of the country; he sits and eats 
 with him at his table; he is become a companion 
 of immortals, l Co. v. 1 — 4 , and has a house now given 
 him to dwell in, to which the best palaces on earth, 
 if compared, seem to me 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 plucked out her letter, 5 6 and read it, and 
 said to them, What now will ye say to this ? 
 
 Tim. 0 the madness that has possessed thee 
 and thy husband, to run yourselves upon such 
 difficulties ! You have heard, I am sure, what 
 your husband did meet with, even, in a manner, at 
 the first step that he took on his way, First Part) 
 as our neighbour Obstinate can yet p- 92 - 
 
 brought to feel their own sinfulness, and to confess their own 
 
 guilt and danger; nor will a mother’s prayers save her children, 
 unless they heartily unite with her in them.— (Ivimey.) 
 
 3 Reader, stop and examine. Did ever any of your carnal 
 acquaintance take knowledge of a difference of your language 
 and conduct ? [Does it stun them ?] Or do they still like and 
 approve of you as well as ever ? What reason, then, have you 
 to think yourself a pilgrim ? If the heart be ever so little 
 acquainted with the Lord, the tongue will discover it, and 
 the carnal and profane will ridicule and despise you for it.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 4 ‘ Is willing to stay behind.’ Mr. Bunyan has strongly 
 intimated, in this account, that children , very young persons, 
 
 may be the subjects of renewing grace, and may experience 
 the power of the gospel upon their hearts, producing that faith 
 that is of the operation of God, and works meet for repentance. 
 This fact is abundantly confirmed by many living instances of 
 very young persons knowing the grace of God in truth, and 
 adorning the doctrine of God our Saviour.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 6 This was a love-letter, full of the love of Jesus, and the 
 precious invitations of his loving heart to sinners to come unto 
 him as recorded in his blessed Word. Happy sinners, whose 
 eyes are opened to read it! But this the world calls madness. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
176 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 testify, for be went along Avith him; yea, and Pli¬ 
 able too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to 
 go any further. We also heard, over and above, 
 how he met with the lions, Apollyon, the Shadow 
 of Death, and many other things. Nor is the 
 
 The reasonings danger that he met with at Vanity 
 of the flesh. F a j r pg f 0r g 0 tten by thee; for if 
 
 he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what 
 canst thou, being but a poor woman, do ? Con¬ 
 sider also, that these four sweet babes are thy 
 children, thy flesh and thy bones. Wherefore, 
 though thou shouldest be so rash as to cast away 
 thyself; yet, for the sake of the fruit of thy body, 
 keep thou at home. 1 
 
 But Christiana said unto her, Tempt me not, my 
 neighbour. I have now a price put into my hand 
 to get gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest 
 size, if I should have no heart to strike in with 
 the opportunity. 2 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 dis¬ 
 couragement, tliat they show I am in the right. 
 
 A pertinent re- ‘ The hitter must come before the 
 ply to fleshly sweet,’ and that also will make the 
 sweet the sweeter. Wherefore, since 
 you came not to my house in God’s name, as I 
 said, I pray you to be gone, and not to disquiet 
 me further. 3 
 
 Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her 
 fellow, Come, neighbour Mercy, let us leave her in 
 her own hands, since she scorns our counsel and 
 company. But Mercy was at a stand, and could 
 not so readily comply with her neighbour, and 
 Mercy’s bowels tbat for a twofold reason. First, her 
 Christiana™ 1 bowels yearned over Christiana. So 
 she said within herself, If my neigh¬ 
 bour 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 
 
 1 The observations of the unconverted, when they perceive 
 the conscience of a poor sinner alarmed for fear of the wrath 
 to come, are admirably put in Bunyan’s Come and Welcome, 
 vol. i. p. 278 : ‘ They attribute the change to melancholy—to 
 sitting alone—to overmuch reading—to going to too many 
 sermons—to too much studying and musing on what they 
 hear. They conclude that it is for want of merry company— 
 for want of physic; and they advise them to leave off reading, 
 going to sermons, the company of sober people, and to be 
 merry, to go a-gossiping. But, poor ignorant sinner, let me 
 deal with thee. It seems that thou hast turned counsellor for 
 Satan. Thou judgest foolishly. Thou art like Elymas the 
 sorcerer, that sought to turn the deputy from the faith, to 
 pervert the right ways of the Lord. Take heed, lest some 
 heavy judgment overtake thee.’ Pilgrim, beware of the 
 solemn warnings of God in Be. xiii. 6, and He. x. 38 .—(Ed.) 
 
 - Bunyan probably alludes to Pr. xvii. 16: ‘Wherefore is 
 there a price in the hand of a fool to get wisdom, seeing lie 
 hath no heart to it?' —(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 It is well to be bold in the name of the Lord, and blunt 
 v. ith those who seek to turn us away from following on to 
 know the Lord; for nothing less than life and salvation, or 
 death and damnation, will be the issue of it.—(Mason.) 
 
 bad taken some bold upon ber mind. 4 Wherefore 
 she said within herself again, I will yet have more 
 talk with this Christiana, and if I find truth and 
 life in what she shall say, myself with my heart 
 shall also go with her. Wherefore Mercy began 
 thus to reply to her neighbour Timorous. 
 
 Mercy. Neighbour, I did, indeed, come with 
 you to see Christiana this morning ; Timorous for- 
 and since she is, as you see, a-taking Me^cleaves 
 of her last farewell of her country, I t0 lier - 
 think to walk, this sun-shine morning, a little way 
 with her, to help her on the way. But she told her 
 not of the second reason, but kept that to herself. 
 
 Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a-fool- 
 ing too, but take heed in time, and be wise. While 
 we are out of danger, we are out; but when we 
 are in, we are in. So Mrs. Timorous returned to 
 her house, and Christiana betook herself to her 
 journey. 5 But when Timorous was 
 got home to her house, she sends for acquaints her 
 some of her neighbours, to wit, Mrs. SeooodChJS- 
 Bat’s-eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. jjjjj intends 
 Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing. 
 
 So when they were come to her house, she falls 
 to telling of the story of Christiana, and of her 
 intended journey. And thus she began her tale. 6 
 
 Tim. Neighbours, 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.it is 
 our custom. And she answered, If you come in 
 God’s name, come in. So in I went, thinking all 
 was well. But when I came in, I found her pre¬ 
 paring herself to depart the town, she, and also 
 her children. So I asked her what was her mean¬ 
 ing by that. And she told me, in short, that she 
 was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, as did 
 her husband. She told me also a dream that she 
 had, and how the King of the country where her 
 husband was, had sent her an inviting letter to 
 come thither. 
 
 Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, And Mrs. Know- 
 what! do you think she will go ? nothing. 
 
 4 The very things which excite the rage and scorn of some 
 persons, penetrate the hearts of others. Thus the Lord makes 
 one to differ from another, by preparing the heart to receive 
 the good seed of Divine truth. Yet every one willingly chooses 
 the way he takes, without constraint or hiuderance, except his 
 own prevailing dispositions.— (Scott.) 
 
 5 Here we see our Lord’s word verified, ‘ The one shall be 
 taken, and the other left.’ Mat. xxiv. 41. Mercy is called, 
 and Timorous left. All, to appearance, seems chance and 
 accident; but sovereign grace overrules all things. ‘ All 
 things are of God, who hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus 
 Christ.’ 2 Co. v. 18.—(Mason.) 
 
 c This tale, by the names, arguments, and discourse intro¬ 
 duced into it, shows what land of persons despise and revile 
 all those that fear God, and seek the salvation of their souls. 
 Profligates, who never studied religion, pass sentence upon the 
 most difficult controversies without hesitation. Such persons 
 call for our compassion and prayers even more than our 
 detestation.— (Scott.) 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 17? 
 
 Mrs. Bat’s-eyes. 
 
 Tim. Aye, go she will, whatever come on’t; and 
 methinks I know it by this; for that which was 
 my great argument to persuade her to stay at home 
 (to wit, the troubles she was like to meet with in 
 the way) is one great argument with her to put her 
 forward on her journey. For she told me in so 
 many words, ‘ The bitter goes before the sweet.’ 
 Yea, and forasmuch as it so doth, it makes the 
 sweet the sweeter. 
 
 Mrs. Bat’s-eyes. 0, this blind and foolish 
 woman ! said she; will she not take 
 warning by her husband’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. Inconsiderate also replied, saying, Away 
 
 Mrs. incon- with such fantastical fools from the 
 siderate. town! A good riddance, for my part, 
 1 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 unneigli- 
 bourly, or talk of such matters as no wise body 
 can abide; wherefore, for my part, I shall never 
 be sorry for her departure. Let her go, and let 
 better come in her room. It was never a good 
 world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it. 1 
 
 Then Mrs. Light-mind added as followeth:— 
 Mrs. Light- Come, put this kind of talk away. I 
 was yesterday at Madam Wanton’s, 
 where we were as merry as the maids. 
 For who do you think should be there, 
 but I and Mrs. Love-the-flesh, and 
 three or four more, with Mr. Lecherv, 
 
 _ ' V ' 
 
 Mrs. Filth, and some others. So there 
 we had music, and dancing, and what else was 
 meet to fill up the pleasure. And, I dare say, 
 my lady herself is an admirably well-bred gentle¬ 
 woman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. 
 
 By this time, Christiana was got on her way, and 
 Mercy went along with her. So as they went, her 
 children being there also, Christiana began to dis- 
 
 mind. 
 
 Madam Wan ton, 
 she that had 
 like to have 
 been too hard 
 for Faithful in 
 time past. 
 
 First Part, 
 p. 118. 
 
 1 0 how do such carnal wretches sport with their own 
 damnation, while they despise the precious truths of God, and 
 ridicule his beloved, chosen, and called people ! But as it was 
 iu the beginning, he who was born after the flesh persecuted 
 him who was bom after the Spirit, so it is now, and will be 
 as long as the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent 
 are upon the earth.—(Mason.) Such characters are portrayed 
 by the apostle, in his solemn riddle, 1 Ti. v. 6.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 2 lhe singular dispensations of Providence, and the strong 
 impressions made by the Word of God upon some minds, seem 
 to amount to a special invitation; while others are gradually 
 and gently brought to embrace the gospel, and these are some- 
 limes discouraged lest they have never been truly awakened, 
 they should recollect that the Lord delighteth in mercy; that 
 Christ will in no wise cast out any that come to him; and 
 that they who trust in the mercy of God, solely through the 
 redemption of his Son, shall assuredly be saved.—(Scott.) 
 
 3 Such is the true spirit of real pilgrims, that do not love 
 to eat their precious morsel alone. They wish others to know 
 Christ, aud to become followers of him with themselves.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 would have her 
 neighbourwitk 
 her. 
 
 Nor slialt 
 
 course. And, Mercy, said Christiana, I take this 
 as an unexpected favour, that thou Discourse be- 
 shouldst set foot out of doors with me, ^ xt 
 to accompany me a little in my way. Christiana. 
 
 Mercy. Then said young Mercy (for she was 
 but young), If I thought it would be Mercy inclines 
 to purpose to go with you, I would tJ £°- 
 never go near the town any more. 
 
 Christ. Well, Mercy, said Christiana, cast iu 
 thy lot with me; I well know what Christiana 
 will be the end of our pilgrimage. My 
 husband is where he would not but be 
 for all the gold in the Spanish mines, 
 thou be rejected, though thou goest but upon my 
 invitation. 2 The King who hath sent for me and 
 my children is one that delighteth in mercy. Be¬ 
 sides, 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. 3 
 
 Mercy. But how shall I be ascertained that I 
 also shall be entertained ? Had I this Mercy doubts of 
 hope but from one that can tell, I acceptance, 
 would make no stick at all, but would go, being 
 helped by him that can help, though the way was 
 never so tedious. 4 
 
 Christ. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee 
 what thou shalt do. Go with me to 
 the wicket-gate, and there I will 
 further inquire for thee ; and if there 
 thou shalt not meet with encourage¬ 
 ment, I will be content that thou 
 shalt return to thy place. I also will pay thee for 
 thy kindness which thou showest to me and my 
 children, in thy accompanying us in our way, as 
 thou dost. 
 
 Mercy. Then will I go thither, and will take 
 what shall follow; and the Lord grant 
 that my lot may there fall, even as the Mcrcy pray8 ’ 
 King of Heaven shall have his heart upon me. 5 
 
 Christiana al - 
 lures her to the 
 gate, which is 
 Christ,and pro- 
 iniseth there 
 to inquire for 
 her. 
 
 4 Though Christiana clearly knew her calling of God, yet 
 Mercy did not; therefore she is in doubt about it. Just so it 
 is with many at their first setting out. Hence they are ready 
 to say—and I have met with many who have said—that they 
 could even wish to have had the most violent convictions of 
 sin, and to have been, as it were, shook over the mouth of 
 hell, that they might have a greater certainty of their being 
 called of God. But this is speakiug unadvisedly. Better to 
 take the apostle’s advice: ‘ Give all diligence to make your 
 calling sure.’—(Mason.) 
 
 6 Here is a precious discovery of a heart divinely instructed. 
 Mind, here is no looking to anything Mercy was in herself, 
 nor to anything she could do for herself, for hope. But all is 
 resolved into this—even the love or the heart or the 
 King or heaven. Reader, can you be content with this? 
 Can you cast all, and rest all, upon the love of Christ ? Then 
 bless his loving name for giving you a pilgrim’s heart.— 
 (Mason.) Mercy clearly discovered a work of grace on her 
 heart. She was anxious about her acceptance at last; she 
 began to pray; she threw herself on the mere mercy of Christ’s 
 heart; and proved ‘ the bowels of a pilgrim,’ by lamenting the 
 sad condition of her carnal relations.—(Burder.) 
 
 23 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 <110 
 
 mi 
 
 an 
 
 3 
 
 SI 
 
178 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Christiana then was glad at her heart, not only 
 ^ , , that she had a companion, but also 
 
 of Mercy’s for that she had prevailed with this 
 company. p 00 r maid to fall in love 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 hut rightly consider, what 
 
 Mercy grieves . . 
 
 for her''carnal a state and condition my poor rela- 
 relations. 1 . . , , . 
 
 tions are m that yet remain m 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. 
 
 Christ. Bowels becometh pilgrims; and thou 
 dost for thy friends as my good Christian did for 
 me when he left me; he mourned for 
 S were that I would not heed nor regard him; 
 hi? We rdation” but Lord and ours did gather up 
 after he was 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.' Ps. 
 
 cxxvi. 5, 6. 
 
 Then said Mercy— 
 
 Let the Most Blessed be my guide. 
 
 If’t be bis blessed wifi; 
 
 Unto bis gate, into bis fold, 
 
 Up to his holy bill. 
 
 And let him never suffer me 
 To swerve or turn aside 
 
 From bis free grace, and holy ways, 
 
 Whate’er shall me betide. 
 
 And let him gather them of mine, 
 
 That I have left behind ; 
 
 Lord, make them pray they may be thine, 
 
 "With all their heart and mind. 2 
 
 Now my old friend proceeded, and said; But 
 when Christiana came up to the Slough First Part, 
 of Despond, she began to be at a p ' 92 - 
 stand ; for, said she, this is the place in which my 
 dear husband had like to have been Tlieir own car _ 
 smothered with mud. She perceived, H^ ng ^stead 
 also, that notwithstanding the com- of the Word of 
 
 • y ^ f q 
 
 mand of the King to make this place 
 for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than 
 formerly. So I asked if that was true. Yes, 
 said the old gentleman, too true; for that many 
 there be that pretend to be the King’s labourers, 
 and that say they are for mending the King’s 
 highway, that bring dirt and dung instead of 
 stones, and so mar instead of mending. 3 Here 
 Christiana, therefore, with her boys, did make a 
 stand; but, said Mercy, Come, let us Mercythebold . 
 venture, only let us be wary. Then est ^at ^ the 
 they looked well to the steps, and sponiL ° 
 made a shift to get staggeringly over. 4 
 
 Yet, Christiana had like to have been in, and 
 that not once nor twice. Now they had no sooner 
 got over, but they thought they heard words that 
 said unto them, ‘ Blessed is she that believed: 
 for there shall be a performance of those things 
 which were told her from the Lord. ’ Lu. i. is. 
 
 1 This truth is exemplified in the Holy War :—‘Now 
 Mr. Desires, when he saw that he must go on this errand, 
 besought that Mr. Wet-eyes should go with him to petition 
 the Prince. This Mr. Wet-eyes was a poor man, a man of a 
 broken spirit, yet one that could speak well to a petition, 
 'then Mr. Wet-eyes fell on his face to the ground, and said, 
 O my Lord, I see dirt in my own tears, and filthiness at the 
 bottom of my prayers; but, I pray thee, mercifully pass by 
 the sin of Mansoul.’— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Perhaps the most delightful portion of the Second Dream 
 of Bunyan is its sweet representation of the female character. 
 There never were two more attractive beings drawn than Chris¬ 
 tiana and Mercy; as different from each other as Christian and 
 Hopeful, and yet equally pleasing in their natural traits of 
 character, and under the influence of Divine grace, each of 
 them reflecting the light of heaven in an original and lovely 
 variety. His own conception of what constitutes a bright 
 example of beauty and consistency of character in a Christian 
 woman, Bunyan has here given us, as well as in his First 
 Dream, the model of steadfast excellence in a Christian man. 
 The delineation, in both Christiana and Mercy, is eminently 
 beautiful. We have, in these characters, his own ideal of the 
 domestic virtues, and his own conception of a well-ordered 
 Christian family’s domestic happiness. Wherever he may have 
 formed his notions of female loveliness and excellence, he has, 
 in the combination of them in the Second Part of the ‘ Pil¬ 
 grim’s Progress,’ presented two characters of such winning 
 modesty and grace, such confiding truth and frankness, such 
 simplicity and artlessness, such cheerfulness and pleasantness, 
 such native good sense and Christian discretion, such sincerity, 
 
 gentleness, and tenderness, that nothing could he more delight¬ 
 ful. The matronly virtues of Christiana, and the maidenly 
 qualities of Mercy, are alike pleasing and appropriate. There 
 is a mixture of timidity and frankness in Mercy, which is as 
 
 sweet in itself as it is artlessly and unconsciously drawn; and 
 in Christiana we discover the very characteristics that can 
 make the most lovely feminine counterpart, suitable to the stem 
 and lofty qualities of her husband.—(Cheever.) 
 
 3 Instead of being what they profess, the King’s labourers, 
 Paul calls them soul-troublers. Ga. v. 10. For instead of 
 preaching a free, full, and finished salvation, bestowed as a free 
 gift, by rich grace, upon poor sinners who can do nothing to 
 entitle themselves to it; behold, these wretched daubers set 
 forth salvation to sale upon certain terms and conditions which 
 sinners are to perform and fulfil. Thus they distress the up¬ 
 right and sincere, and deceive the self-righteous and unwary, 
 into pride and delusion. Thus they mar, instead of mending, 
 the way; and bring dirt and dung, instead of stones, to make 
 the way sound and safe for pilgrims.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 ‘Looked well to the steps;’ that is, ‘the promises,’ as 
 Bunyan explains in the margin of Part First. ‘Struggling to 
 be rid of our burden, it only sinks us deeper in the mire, if 
 we do not rest by faith upon the promises, and so come indeed 
 to Christ. Precious promises they are, and so free and full 
 of forgiveness and eternal life, that certainly the moment a 
 dying soul feels its guilt and misery, that soul may lay hold 
 upon them, and find Christ in them; and were it not for un¬ 
 belief, there need be no Slough of Despond for the soul to 
 struggle, and plunge, in its mire of depravity. ’—(Cheever.) 
 ~(Ed.) 
 
179 
 
 THE TILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Then they went on again; and said Mercy to 
 Christiana, Had I as good ground to hope for a 
 loving reception at the wicket-gate as you, I think 
 no Slough of Despond would discourage me. 
 
 Well, said the other, you know your sore, 1 8 * and 
 I know mine; and, good friend, we shall all have 
 enough evil before we come 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 pos¬ 
 sibly assault us with, that hate us ? 
 
 And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my 
 dream by myself. Wherefore, methought I saw 
 Christiana and Mercy, and the boys, go all of 
 them up to the gate; to which, when they were 
 come, they betook themselves to a 
 
 Prayer should , . . 
 
 be made with snort debate about how they must 
 
 aud S1( |har, 10 a8 mana ge their calling at the gate, and 
 
 and hope faitl1 should be said to him that did 
 
 open to them. So it was concluded, 
 
 since Christiana was the eldest, that she should 
 
 knock for entrance, and that she should speak to 
 
 him that did open, for the rest. So Christiana 
 
 First Part, began to knock ; and, as her poor hus- 
 
 p. 96. band did, she knocked, and knocked 
 
 again. But, instead of any that answered, they 
 
 The dog the thought that they heard as if a 
 
 devil—an ene- dog came barking upon them; a doo\ 
 my to prayer. ~ or » o> 
 
 and a great one too, and this made 
 the women and children afraid: nor durst they, 
 for a while, to knock anymore, for fear the mastiff 
 Christiana and should fly upon them. Now, there- 
 peTpiexedabout f° re > they were greatly tumbled up 
 prayer. and d own j n their minds, and knew 
 
 not what to do: knock they durst not, for fear of 
 the dog; go back they durst not, for fear the 
 Keeper of that gate should espy them as they so 
 went, and should be offended with them; at last 
 they thought of knocking again, and knocked 
 more vehemently than they did at the first. Then 
 said the Keeper of the gate, Who is there ? So the 
 dog left off to bark, and he opened unto them. 2 
 
 Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, 
 
 1 All the varieties in the experience of those who are walk¬ 
 ing in the same path can never be enumerated; some of their 
 sores are not only unreasonable but unaccountable, through 
 the weakness of the human mind, the abiding effects of pecu¬ 
 liar impressions, the remains of unbelief, and the artilices of 
 batan.—(Scott.) 
 
 Xo sooner does a poor sinner open his lips in prayer to 
 Jesus, but the devil will bark at him, and by all means try to 
 terrily and discourage him. Do you find this ? What is our 
 remedy ? ‘ Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw 
 
 nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.’ Ja. iv. 7, 8.— 
 (Mason.) "When the fear of God possesses the heart, such 
 disturbances cannot long prevent earnest cries for mercy, but 
 vn ill eventually render them more fervent and importunate than 
 ever.—(Scott.) 
 
 Let not our Lord be offended with his hand¬ 
 maidens, for that we have knocked at his princely 
 gate. Then said the Keeper, Whence come ye, 
 and what is 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 Celestial City. And I answer, my Lord, in 
 the next place, that I am Christiana, once the 
 wife of Christian, that now is gotten above. 3 
 
 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, ‘ Suffer the little children „ . .. 
 
 How Christiana 
 
 to come unto me;’ and with that he is entertained 
 shut up the gate. This done, he called dt the gate ' 
 to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to 
 entertain Christiana with shouting and sound of 
 trumpet for joy. So he obeyed, and sounded, and 
 filled the air with his melodious notes. Lu. xv. 7 . 
 
 Now all this while poor Mercy did stand with¬ 
 out, trembling and crying, for fear that she was 
 rejected. But when Christiana had gotten admit¬ 
 tance for herself and her boys, then she began to 
 make intercession for Mercy. 
 
 Christ. And she said, My Lord, I have a com¬ 
 panion of mine that stands yet with- _ ., 
 
 A J Christianas 
 
 out, that is come hither upon the same prayer for her 
 
 account as myself; one that is much lnend Mercy ' 
 
 dejected in her mind, for that she comes, as she 
 
 thinks, without sending for; whereas I was sent 
 
 to by my husband’s King to come. 
 
 Now Mercy began to be very impatient, for 
 each minute was as long to her as an hour ; 
 wherefore she prevented Christiana Thedslaysmake 
 from a fuller interceding for her, by Sui^the^fw- 
 knocking at the gate herself. And venter, 
 she knocked then so loud, that she made Chris¬ 
 tiana 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 
 
 8 Think much, of them that have gone before; how safe 
 
 they are in the bosom of Jesus. Would they be here again 
 
 for a thousand worlds ? Sometimes when my base heart hath 
 been inclining to this world, and to loiter in my journey 
 towards heaven, the very consideration of the glorious saints 
 and angels—what they enjoy, what low thoughts they have 
 of the tilings of this world, how they would befool me if they 
 did but know that my heart was drawing back—this hath 
 made me rush forward, and disdain those beggarly things; and 
 say to my soul, Come, soul, let us not be w'eary; let us see 
 what heaven is; let us venture all for it. It will quit the 
 cost. Reader, what sayest thou to this ? Art thou resolved 
 to follow me ? Nay, resolve to get before me if thou canst. 
 —{Heavenly Footman .) 
 
180 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Mercy was fallen down without, in a swoon, for she 
 fainted, and was afraid that no gate 
 Mercy faints. wou ] ( j he opened to her. 
 
 Then he took her by the hand, and said, Dam¬ 
 sel, I bid thee arise. 
 
 0 Sir, said she, I am faint; there is scarce life 
 left in me. But he answered, That one once said, 
 
 ‘ When my soul fainted within me, I remembered 
 the Lord; and my prayer came in unto thee, into 
 thine holy temple.’ Jonahii. 7. Fear not, but stand 
 upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art 
 come. 1 
 
 Mercy. I am come for that unto which I was 
 The cause of never invited, as my friend Christiana 
 her fainting. was< Hers was from the King, and 
 
 mine was but from her. Wherefore I fear I pre¬ 
 sume. 2 
 
 Keep. Did she desire thee to come with her to 
 this place ? 
 
 Mercy. Yes; and, as my Lord sees, I am 
 come. And, if there is any grace or forgiveness 
 of sins to spare, I beseech that I, thy poor hand¬ 
 maid, may be partaker thereof. 
 
 Then he took her again by the hand, and led 
 her gently in, and said, I pray for all 
 Mark tins. t j iem t ^ at h e li eve on me> by w h a t means 
 
 soever they come unto me. Then said he to those 
 that stood by, Fetch something, and give it Mercy 
 to smell on, thereby to stay her fainting. So they 
 fetched her a bundle of myrrh ; and a while after, 
 she was revived. 3 
 
 And now was Christiana and her boys, and 
 Mercy, received of the Lord at the head of the 
 
 1 Being made to understand what great sinners the Lord 
 hath had mercy upon, and how large his promises were still 
 to sinners, this made me, through the assistance of the Holy 
 Spirit, to cleave to him, to hang upon him, and yet to cry, 
 though as yet there was no answer, The Lord help all his poor, 
 tempted, afflicted people to do the like.—(Bunyan.) 
 
 2 Mercy’s case is not singular. Many have set out just as 
 3 he did, and have been discouraged hy the same reason as she 
 was. She, as many have been, was encouraged to set out in 
 the ways of the Lord by her neighbour and friend. Hence 
 she, as many others also have thought, there was no cause to 
 conclude that she was effectually called by the Lord, hut it 
 was only the effect of moral persuasion, and therefore doubted 
 and fainted, lest she should not meet with acceptance. But 
 her very doubts, fears, and distress, proved the earnestness of 
 her heart, and the desire of her soul, after the Saviour; and 
 also that his attracting love and gracious power had a hand in 
 the work. Well therefore might Bunyan call upon his readers 
 to mark her gracious reception hy Christ. Mark this, ye poor, 
 doubting, fearing, trembling souls, who are halting every step, 
 and fearing you have not set out aright, hear what Christ’s angel 
 said, and be not discouraged: ‘ Fear uot ye, for I know that ye 
 seek Jesus.’ Mat. xxviii. 5.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 The prisoners taken in the Holy War were affected like 
 Mercy. ‘ Why did you not cry to me before, said the Prince, 
 yet I will answer you so as will be for my glory. At this 
 Mr. Wet-eyes gave a great sigh, and death seemed to sit on 
 their eye-brows; they covered their faces, and threw them¬ 
 selves down before him. Then the Prince bid them stand 
 upon their feet, and said, I have power to forgive, and I do 
 forgive. Moreover, he stripped the prisoners of their mourn¬ 
 ing-weeds, and gave them beauty for ashes.’—(E d.) 
 
 way, and spoke kindly unto by liim. 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, axid he, by word and deed: by 
 word, in the promise of forgiveness; by deed, in 
 the way I obtained it. Take the first from my 
 lips with a kiss, Ca. i. 2 ; and the other as it shall 
 be revealed. 4 Jn. xx. 20 . 
 
 Now, I saw in my dream, that he spake many 
 good words unto them, whereby 7 they were greatly 
 gladded. He also had them up to the top of the 
 gate, and showed them by what deed Christ crucified 
 they were saved; and told them withal, seen off- 
 That that sight they would have again, as they 
 went along in the way, to their comfort. 
 
 So he left them a while in a summer parlour 
 below, where they entered into talk Talk between the 
 by themselves; and thus Christiana 
 began: 0 Lord ! how glad am I that we are got 
 in hither. 
 
 Mercy. So you well may; but I of all havo 
 cause to leap for joy. 
 
 Christ. I thought one time, as I stood at the 
 gate (because I had knocked, and none did an¬ 
 swer), that all our labour had been lost, especially 
 when that ugly cur made such a heavy barking 
 against us. y 
 
 Mercy. But my worse fear was after I saw 
 that you was taken into his favour, and that I 
 was left behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled 
 which is written, 4 Two women shall be grinding 
 together, the one shall be taken and the other left. 3 6 
 Mat. xxiv. 41 . I had much ado to forbear crying out , 
 Undone! undone ! 7 
 
 4 Pardon by word, seems to denote the general discovery 
 of free salvation by Jesus Christ to all that believe, which 
 is sealed by transient comforts and lively affections. Par¬ 
 don by deed may relate to the manner in which the bless¬ 
 ing was purchased by the Saviour; and when this is clearly 
 understood, the believer attains to stable peace and hope.— 
 
 (Scott.) 
 
 6 The devil often barks most at us, and brings his heaviest 
 accusations against us, when mercy, peace, comfort, and salva¬ 
 tion are nearest to us. 
 
 ‘ Press on, nor fear to win the day. 
 
 Though earth and hell obstruct the way.’—(Mason.) 
 
 6 Many hellish darts are tipped by Apollyon’s malignant 
 ingenuity with sentences of Scripture, made to flame just like 
 the fiery darts of the wicked one; so that the Scriptures appear 
 to stand against the trembling Christian.—(E d.) 
 
 7 Here is genuine humility; no replying against God—no 
 calling in question his sovereign right to receive or to reject. 
 No; all that this poor humble heart thought was, now is 
 fulfilled what is written, ‘ One shall be taken and the other 
 left.’ If so, what had she to say ? No impeachment of the 
 Lord’s dealings, but only, I am undone. But yet, on seeing 
 what was written over the gate, ‘ Knock, and it shall be opened,’ 
 from that, and not from any sight of worthiness in herself, 
 hut lost as she felt herself, she was encouraged to knock again, 
 or to cry and pray more vehemently than ever. Here is a 
 blessed example of deep humility, and of holy boldness, excited 
 hy the Divine Word. Go thou, ruined sinner, and do likewise. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 181 
 
 And afraid I was to knock any more ; but when 
 First Part, I looked up to what was written over 
 p 96 - the gate, I took courage . 1 I also 
 thought that I must either knock again, or die; 
 so I knocked, but I cannot tell how, for my spirit 
 now struggled betwixt life and death. 
 
 Christ. Can you not tell how you knocked ? 
 Christiana thinks I am sure your knocks were so ear- 
 
 prays C °better° n nes t, that the very sound of them 
 than she. made me start; I thought I never 
 heard such knocking in all my life; I thought you 
 would have come in by violent hands, or have taken 
 the kingdom by storm. Mat. xi 12. 
 
 Mercy. Alas ! to be in my case, who that so 
 was could but have done so ? You saw that the 
 door was shut upon me, and that there was a most 
 cruel dog thereabout. Who, I say, that was so 
 faint-hearted as I, that would not have knocked 
 with all their might ? But, pray, what said my 
 Lord to my rudeness ? Was he not angry with 
 me ? 
 
 Christ. When he heard your lumbering noise, 
 
 Christ, pleased & ave a won derful innocent smile; 
 
 with loud and I believe what you did pleased him 
 restless praises. . r % . f, 
 
 well enough, tor he showed no sign to 
 
 the contrary. But I marvel in my heart, why he 
 
 If the soul at ^ ee P S SUC ^ a ^°o > had ^ known that 
 first did know before, 2 I fear I should not have had 
 
 meetwithinits heart enough to have ventured myself 
 
 ie^itwoufd ’ n this mann er. But now we are in, 
 hardly ever set we are in ; and I am glad with all my 
 heart. ■' 
 
 Mercy. I will ask, if you please, next time he 
 comes down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his 
 yard ; I hope he will not take it amiss. 
 
 Aye, do, said the children, and persuade him to 
 
 The children are hang him ; for we are afraid he will 
 atraid of the dog. ug w ] ieil we gO hence. 
 
 So at last he came down to them a^ain, and 
 Mercy fell to the ground on lier face before him, 
 and worshipped, and 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 
 up.’ But she continued upon her face, and said, 
 
 ‘ Righteous ait thou, 0 Lord, when I plead with 
 thee: yet let me talk with thee of judgments.’ 
 
 1 The express words of such invitations, exhortations, and 
 promises, written in the Bible, are more efficacious to en¬ 
 courage those who are ready to give up their hopes, than all 
 the consolatory topics that can possibly be substituted in their 
 place.—(Scott.) 
 
 W hen a mariner enters upon a voyage, or a soldier on a 
 campaign, they know not what hardships they may encounter, 
 nor whether their lives may be sacrificed without attaining 
 their object; but whatever hardships the Christian has to 
 encounter, he will come off more thah conqueror—he will 
 reach the desired haven in safety—through him that loved us. 
 hear not— 
 
 * Though death aud hell obstruct the way, 
 
 The meanest saint shall win the day.’—(E d.) 
 
 Devil 
 
 Je. xii. 1 . Wherefore dost thou keep so cruel a dog 
 in thy yard, at the sight of which, „ 
 
 , 1 1 M I Mercy expostu- 
 
 suen women and children as we, are kites about the 
 ready to fly from thy gate for fear ? 
 
 He answered and said, That dog has another 
 owner, he also is kept close in another 
 man’s ground, only my pilgrims hear 
 his barking; he belongs to the castle which you 
 see there at a distance, but can come Pavt 
 up to the walls of this place. He has p - 96 * 
 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 anv 
 goodwill to me or mine, but with intent to keep 
 the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they 
 may be afraid to knock at this gate for entrance. 
 Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried 
 some that I loved; but I take all at present 
 patiently I also give my pilgrims A check t0 tlie 
 timely help, so they are not delivered carnal fear of 
 up to his power, to do to them what the pilgnms ‘ 
 his doggish nature would prompt him to. But 
 what! my purchased one, I trow, hadst thou 
 known never so much beforehand, thou wouldst 
 not have been afraid of a dog. 
 
 The beggars that go from door to door will, 
 rather than they 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 
 man’s yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the 
 profit of pilgrims—keep any from coming to me ? 
 I deliver them from the lions, their darling from 
 the power of the dog. 3 4 
 
 Mekct. Then said Mercy, I eon- rten 
 
 fess my ignorance; I spake what I W1 ? e enough, ac- 
 understood not; I acknowledge that wisdom of their 
 thou dost all things well. Lord ‘ 
 
 Christ. Then Christiana began to talk of their 
 journey, and to inquire after the way. So he fed 
 them, and washed their feet, and set them in the 
 way of his steps, according as he had First Part> 
 dealt with her husband before. So I p - 97 - 
 saw in my dream, that they walked on in their way, 
 and had the weather very comfortable to them. 
 
 Then Christiana began to sing, saying— 
 
 Bless’d be tbe day that I began 
 A pilgrim for to be; 
 
 And blessed also be that man 
 That thereto moved me. 
 
 3 Strive to enter in; a whole heaven and eternal life is 
 wrapped up in this little word in. Strive; this calls for the 
 mind and heart. Many professors make their striving to stand 
 rather in an outcry of words, than in a hearty labour against 
 the lusts and love of the world, and their own corruptions. 
 But this kind of striving is but a beating the air, and will 
 come to nothing at last.—(Bunyan’s Strait Gate, vol. i. 
 p. 369.) 
 
 4 Thus the dog of hell may be of service, not only in keeping 
 the sheep close together, but in making them keep close to 
 their Shepherd.—(J. B.) 
 
; - ft ' ■ . ••; ! i *! . ' 
 
 
 "tfliji 
 
 
 182 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ’Tis true, ’twas long ere I began 
 To seek to live for ever: 
 
 But now I run fast as I can; 
 Tis better late than never. 
 
 Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, 
 Are turned, as we see. 
 
 That our beginning, as one saith, 
 Shows what our end will be. 
 
 Now there was, on the other side of the wall 
 that fenced in the waj up which Christiana and 
 The devil’s her companions were to go, a garden, 
 garden. an d {bat g ar( j en belonged to him 
 
 whose was that harking dog of whom mention was 
 made before. And some of the fruit-trees that 
 grew in that garden shot their branches over the 
 wall; and being mellow, they that found them 
 did gather them up, and oft eat of them to their 
 hurt. So Christiana’s boys, as hoys are apt to do, 
 
 The children eat ^eing P leased with the trees, and with 
 of the enemy’s the fruit that- did hang thereon, did 
 plash 1 them, and began to eat. Their 
 mother did also chide them for so doing, but still 
 the hoys went on. 2 
 
 Well, said she, my sons, you transgress, for 
 that fruit is none of ours; but she did not know 
 that they did belong to the enemy ; I will warrant 
 you, if she had, she would have been ready to die 
 for fear. But that passed, and they went on their 
 way. Now, by that they were gone about two 
 bow-shots from the place that let them into the 
 Two ill-favoured way, they espied two very ill-favoured 
 ones - ones coming down apace to meet 
 them. 3 With that, Christiana and Mercy, her 
 friend, covered themselves with their veils, 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 
 They assault to the women, as if they would em¬ 
 brace them; but Christiana said, 
 
 Christiana. 
 
 1 ‘ Plash ’ was, in later editions, altered to * pluck.’ To 
 plash, is to cut hedges or trees. The boys did plash, or had a 
 cut at the trees, to knock the fruit off.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 What is this garden but the world ? What is the fruit 
 they here found ? ‘ The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, 
 and the pride of life.’ 1 Jn. ii. 16. Of this the boys ate. 
 The mother chides them for taking that which did not belong 
 to them, but she did not know that it grew in the devil’s 
 garden. Mark the consequence of their eating this fruit here¬ 
 after.—(Mason.) The terrifying suggestions of Satan [the 
 dog’s barking] give believers much present uneasiness, yet 
 they often do them great good, and seldom eventually hurt 
 them; but the allurements of those worldly objects which he 
 throws in their way are far more dangerous and pernicious. 
 Many 0 f these are very attractive to young persons ; but all 
 parents who love the souls of their children should employ all 
 their influence and authority to restrain them from those vain 
 pleasures which ‘ war against the soul,’ and are most dangerous 
 when least suspected. This fruit may be found in the pilgrim’s 
 path, but it grows in Beelzebub’s garden, and should be shunned 
 
 as poison. Many diversions and pursuits, both in high and 
 low life, are of this nature, though often pleaded for as inno¬ 
 
 cent, by some persons who ought to know better.—(Scott.) 
 
 Stand back, or go peaceably by, as you should. 
 Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded not 
 Christiana’s words, but began to lay hands upon 
 them. At that Christiana, waxing very The pi]oTiTm 
 wroth, spurned at them with her feet, struggle with 
 Mercy also, as well as she could, did 
 what she could to shift them. Christiana again 
 said to them, Stand back, and begone; for we have 
 no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you see, and 
 such, too, as live upon the charity of our friends. 
 
 Ill-favoured. 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. 
 
 Christ. Now Christiana, imagining what they 
 should mean, made answer again, We will neither 
 hear, nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. 
 We are in haste, cannot stay; our business is a 
 business of life and death. So, again, she and 
 her companions made a fresh essay to go past 
 them; but they letted them in their way. 
 
 Ill-fav. And they said, We intend no hurt to 
 your lives; it is another thing we would have. 
 
 Christ. Ah, quoth Christiana, you would have 
 us body and soul, for I know it is for 
 that you are come; but we will die 
 rather upon the spot, than suffer ourselves to he 
 brought into such snares as shall hazard our well¬ 
 being hereafter. And with that they both shrieked 
 out, and cried, Murder! murder! and so put 
 themselves under those laws that are provided for 
 the protection of women. De. xxii. 23-27. But the 
 men still made their approach upon them, with 
 design to prevail against them. They, therefore, 
 cried out again. 4 
 
 Now, they being, as I said, not far from the 
 gate in at which they came, their voice It is good to cry 
 was heard from where they were, out when we 
 
 i are assaulted. 
 
 thither; wherefore some of the house 
 came out, and knowing that it was Christiana’s 
 tongue, they made haste to her relisf. But by 
 that they were got within sight of them, the women 
 
 She cries out. 
 
 
 8 What are these ill-favoured ones ? Such as you will be 
 sure to meet with in your pilgrimage; some vile lusts, or 
 cursed corruptions, which are suited to your carnal nature. 
 These will attack you, and strive to prevail against you. Mind 
 how these pilgrims acted, and follow their example. If one 
 was to fix names to these ill-favoured ones, they might be 
 called Unbelief and Licentiousness, which aim to rob Christ’s 
 virgins of their chastity to him.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Here we see that the most violent temptation to the 
 greatest evil is not sin, if resisted and not complied with. 
 Our Lord himself was tempted in all things like as we are, 
 yet without sin. Therefore, ye followers of him, do not be 
 dejected and cast down, though you should be exercised with 
 temptations to the blackest crimes, and the most heinous sins. 
 You cannot be assaulted with worse than your Lord was. He 
 was tempted, but he resisted Satan, and overcame all, in our 
 nature. Cry to him; he is the Reliever who will come in the 
 hour of distress.— (Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 183 
 
 were in a very great scuffle, the children also stood 
 Tbe Reliever crying Ly. Then did lie that came 
 comes. j n f or their relief call out to the ruf¬ 
 fians, saying, What is that thing that you do ? 
 Would you make my Lord’s people to transgress ? 
 
 The ill one* flv -^ e a ^ s0 to take them, but 
 
 uuhedevu for they did make their escape over the 
 
 wall, into the garden of the man to 
 whom the great dog belonged; so the dog became 
 their protector. This Reliever then came up to the 
 women, and asked them how they did. So they 
 answered, We thank thy Prince, pretty well; only 
 we have been somewhat affrighted ; we thank thee 
 also, for that thou earnest in to our help, for other¬ 
 wise we had been overcome. 
 
 Reliever. So after a few more words, this Re- 
 TheReiierer talks Lever said as followeth; I marvelled 
 to the women. muc R when y 0 u were entertained at 
 
 the gate above, being, [as] 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. 1 
 
 Christ. Alas! said Christiana, we were so 
 taken with our present blessing, that 
 dangers to come were forgotten by us ; 
 besides, who could have thought, that so near the 
 King’s palace, there should have lurked such 
 naughty ones ? Indeed, it had been well for us, 
 had we asked our Lord for one; but, since our 
 Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder 
 he sent not one along with us ! 2 
 
 Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things 
 We lose for want not asked foi, lest, by so doing, they 
 of askmg for. become of little esteem ; 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 
 conductor, you would not neither so have bewailed 
 that oversight of yours, in not asking for one, as 
 now you have occasion to do. So all things work 
 for good, and tend to make you more wary. 
 
 Christ. Shall we go back again to my Lord, 
 and confess our folly, and ask one ? 
 
 Rel. 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 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 no want at all; for in every of my Lord’s lodgings, 
 which he has prepared for the reception of his pil¬ 
 grims, there is sufficient to furnish them against 
 all attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, * He will 
 be inquired of by them, to do it for them.’ Eze. 
 xxxvi. 37 . And it is a poor thing that is not worth 
 asking for. When he had thus said, he went back 
 to his place, and the Pilgrims went on their way. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank 
 is here! I made account we had xh e mistake of 
 now been past all danger, and that Mercy, 
 we should never see sorrow more. 3 
 
 Christ. Thy innocency, my sister, said Chris¬ 
 tiana to Mercy, may excuse thee much ; but as 
 for me, my fault is so much the greater, Christiana’s 
 for that I saw this danger before I 
 came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for 
 it where provision might have been had. I am 
 therefore much to be blamed. 4 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, How knew you this 
 before you came from home ? Pray open to me 
 this riddle. 
 
 Christ. Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot 
 out of doors, one night, as I lay in my bed, I had 
 a dream about this ; for, methought I saw two men, 
 as like these as ever the world they could look, 
 stand at my bed’s feet, plotting how they might 
 prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very 
 words. They said (it was when I was in my 
 troubles), What shall We do With this Christiana’s 
 woman? for she cries out, waking and dream repeated. 
 
 sleeping, for forgiveness. If she be suffered to go 
 on as she begins, we shall lose her, as we have lost 
 her husband. This, you know, might have made 
 me take heed, and have provided when provision 
 might have been had. 
 
 Mercy. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect 
 we have an occasion ministered unto Mercy makes 
 us, to behold our own imperfections; theirnegh-ct of 
 so our Lord has taken occasion thereby, dut y- 
 to make manifest the riches of his grace; for he, 
 as we see, has followed us with unasked kindness, 
 and has delivered us from their hands that were 
 stronger than we, of his mere good pleasure. 5 
 
 Thus, now when they had talked away a little 
 more time, they drew nigh to a house which stood 
 in the way, which house was built for the relief of 
 pilgrims; as you will find more fully related in the 
 
 1 * Ye have not, because ye ask not.’ Ja. iv. 2. 
 
 2 It is well to be taken with present blessings, to be joyful 
 in them, and thankful for them; but it is wrong to forget our 
 dangers, and grow secure.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 When the soul is happy in the love of God, it is ready to 
 conclude that dangers are past, that doubts and fears are 
 entirely removed; but as long as we are in this world, we 
 shall find the expediency of our Lord’s exhortation—‘ Watch 
 and pray.’—(J. B.) 
 
 4 Here is a display of a tndy Christian spirit, in that open 
 
 and ingeuuous confession of her fault, taking all the blame 
 
 upon herself, and excusing Mercy. This is not natural to us, 
 but the grace of Christ humbles the heart, and silences the 
 tongue to self-justifying pleas. 0 for more of this precious 
 grace!—(Mason.) 
 
 6 Mark those phrases—‘ the riches of his grace/ and ‘ his 
 mere good pleasure.’ You cannot entertain too exalted ideas 
 of these, nor speak too highly of them. Pilgrims should be 
 known by their language as well as their walk. Those who 
 talk highly of their own perfection, speak little, if at all, of the 
 riches of God’s grace, and the good pleasure of his will. Beware 
 of the infection of pride and self-righteous leaven.—(Mason.) 
 
184 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 First Part of these Records of the Pilgrim’s Pro¬ 
 gress. So they drew on. towards the house (the 
 House of the Interpreter), and when they came to 
 the door, they heard a great talk in 
 ^'interpreter’s the house. They then gave ear, and 
 Christiana? heard, as they thought, Christiana 
 going on pil- mentioned by name. For you must 
 gnmage. L now that there went along, even be¬ 
 fore 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 Chris¬ 
 tian’s wife, that woman who was sometime 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, 
 She knocks at stood at the door. At last Christiana 
 the door. knocked, as she had done at the gate 
 before. Now, when she had knocked, there came to 
 
 ti e door is door a y oml © damsel, named Inno- 
 openedtothem cent, and opened the door and looked, 
 by Innocent. an( j ^hold two women were there. 
 
 Damsel. Then said the damsel to them, With 
 whom would you speak in this place ? 
 
 Christ. 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. 
 
 Damsel. Pray, what may I call your name, that 
 I may tell it to my Lord within ? 
 
 Christ. 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 
 T .' „ who is at the door ? There is Chris- 
 
 of the inter- tiana and her children, and her com- 
 
 Christiana is panion, all waiting for entei tainment 
 turned pilgrim. here> Then they l eape d f or j 0 y, and 
 
 went and told their master. So he came to the 
 door, and looking upon her, he said, Art thou that 
 Christiana whom Christian, the good man, left 
 behind him, when he betook himself to a pilgrim’s 
 life ? 
 
 Christ. I am that woman that was so hard¬ 
 hearted, as to slight my husband’s troubles, and 
 
 1 The Holy Spirit, the Interpreter, who was promised by 
 the Lord Jesus to he sent in his name, guides believers into 
 all truth. ‘ And they shall be all taught of God.’ Jn. vi. 45. 
 Humble confession, and serious consecration of heart, are 
 sacrifices acceptable, well-pleasing to God; and such simple- 
 hearted pilgrims are received by the church with a hearty wel¬ 
 come. ‘ The Spirit and the bride say, Come; and let him that 
 heareth say, Come.’ Re. xxii. 17 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Here is joy indeed, which strangers to the love of Christ 
 intermeddle not with. Surely, this is the joy of heaven; am. 
 
 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. He answered and said, I will not: 
 but afterward he repented and went.’ Mat. xxi. 29 . 
 
 Christ. Then said Christiana, So be it, Amen. 
 God make it a true saying upon me, and grant that 
 I may be found at the last of him in peace, without 
 spot, and blameless ! 
 
 Inter. But why standest thou thus at the door ? 
 Come in, thou daughter of Abraham. We were 
 talking of thee but notv, for tidings have come to 
 us before, how thou art become a pilgrim. Come, 
 children, come in ; come, maiden, come in. So 
 he had them all into the house. 1 
 
 So, when they were within, they were bidden sit 
 down and rest them; the which when they had 
 done, those that attended upon the Pilgrims in the 
 house, came into the room to see them. And one 
 smiled, and another smiled, and they 01d gaints gl:ld 
 all smiled, for joy that Christiana was to^see ^the 
 
 become a pilgrim. They also looked walk' ’in God’s 
 upon the boys. They stroked 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. 2 
 
 After a while, because supper was not ready, tlio 
 Interpreter took them Into his signifi- ^ sif;niflcml 
 cant rooms, and showed them what Rooms. 
 Christian, Christiana’s husband, had First Part, 
 seen some time before. Here, there- 1-9 
 fore, they saw the man in the cage, the man and 
 his dream, the man that cut his way through his 
 enemies, and the picture of the 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 some¬ 
 what digested by Christiana and her company, the 
 Interpreter takes them apart again, and has them 
 first into a room where was a man that Tlie man with 
 could look no way but downwards, with muck-rak e 
 a muck-rake in his hand. There stood 
 also one over his head with a celestial crown in 
 his hand, and proffered him that crown for his 
 muck-rake; but the man did neither look up, nor 
 regard, but raked to himself the straws, the small 
 sticks, and dust of the floor. 0 
 
 if thou hast this joy, thou hast the love that reigns in heaven 
 Glory to Jesus, I think I can truly say, I have this blessed 
 evidence in my heart, that I know somewhat of this joy 
 arising from seeing poor lost sinners converted to Jesus, so as 
 to love him and follow him. O for a spread and increase ol 
 this spirit among Christians of all denominations! (Mason.) 
 
 3 The emblematical instruction at the Interpreter’s house, 
 in the former part, was so important and comprehensive, that 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 185 
 
 Then said Christiana, I persuade myself that I 
 know somewhat the meaning of this ; for this is a 
 ligure of a man of this world, is it not, good Sir ? 
 
 Inter. Thou hast said the right, said he, and 
 his muck-rake doth show his carnal mind. And 
 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 celestial crown in his hand, it is to show 
 that heaven is hut as a fable to some, and that 
 things here are counted the only things sub¬ 
 stantial. Now, whereas, it was also showed 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. * 1 2 
 
 ... , Christ. Then said Christiana, 0 
 
 prayer against deliver me from this muck-rake ! 
 the muck-rake. T , ,1 T 
 
 Inter. That prayer, said the inter¬ 
 preter, has lain by till it is almost rusty. ‘ Give 
 me not riches,’ is scarce the prayer of one of ten 
 thousand. Pr. xxx. 8 . Straws, and sticks, and dust, 
 with most, are the great things now looked after. 3 
 
 With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said. 
 It is, alas ! too true. 4 
 
 When the Interpreter had shown them this, he 
 has them into the very best room in the house; a 
 very brave room it was. So he bid them look round 
 about, and see if they could find anything profitable 
 there. Then they looked round and round; for 
 there was nothing there to be seen but a very great 
 spider on the wall: and that they overlooked. 
 
 we are astonished at the striking additions here adduced. The 
 first emblem is very plain; and so apposite, that it is won¬ 
 derful any person should read it without lifting up a prayer to 
 the Lord, and saying, ‘ 0 deliver me from this muck-rake!’— 
 (Scott, altered by Ed.) Awful thought 1 Straws, and sticks, 
 and dust, preferred to Christ and salvation ! 
 
 * If angels weep, it is at such a sight!’—(Burder.) 
 
 1 Our Lord said, ‘ Where your treasure is, there will your 
 heart he also.’ To he carnally-minded is death, but to be 
 spiritually-minded is life and peace. If our treasure is in 
 heaven, we need not envy those griping muck-worms who are 
 cursed in their basket and in their store.—(J. B.) 
 
 2 -The vulture of insatiate minds 
 
 Still wants, and wanting seeks, and seeking finds 
 New fuel to increase her rav’nous fire. 
 
 The grave is sooner cloy’d than men’s desire. 
 
 —(Quarles’ Emblems) 
 
 3 A full purse and a lean soul, is a sign of a great curse. 
 O it is a sad grant, when the desire is only to make the belly 
 big, the estate big, the name big; when even by this bigness 
 the soul pines, is made to dwindle, to grow lean, and to look 
 like an anatomy! Like a man in a dropsy, they desire this 
 world, as he doth drink, till they desire themselves quite dow r n 
 to hell.—(Bunyan’s Desire of the Righteous , vol. i. p. 767*) 
 
 4 Reader, didst thou never shed a tear for thy base and 
 disingenuous conduct towards thy Lord, in preferring the 
 sticks and straws of this world to the unsearchable riches of 
 Christ, and the salvation of thy immortal soul ? O this is 
 
 natural to us all 1 and though made wise unto salvation, yet 
 this folly cleaves to our old nature still. Let the thought 
 humble us, and make us weep before the Lord.—(Mason.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Mercy, Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing ; 
 but Christiana held her peace. 
 
 Inter. But, said the Interpreter, look again : 
 and she therefore looked again, and 
 
 • j tt • , xi • i j. i Of tJic Spider. 
 
 said, Here is not anything but an ugly 
 spider, who hangs by her hands upon the wall 
 Then said he, Is there but one spider in all this 
 spacious room? Then the water stood in Chris¬ 
 tiana’s eyes, for she was a woman quick of ap¬ 
 prehension ; and she said, Yea, Lord, ^aik about the 
 there is here more than one. Yea, Spider, 
 and spiders whose venom is far more destructive 
 than 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. 5 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again, ‘ The spider 
 taketh hold with their hands (as you see), and is in 
 kings’ palaces.’ Pr. xxx. 28 . And wherefore is this 
 recorded, but to show you, that how The i n t er preta- 
 full of the venom of sin soever you be, tl0U - 
 yet you may, by the hand of faith, lay hold of, 
 and dwell in the best room that belongs to the 
 King’s house above! 6 
 
 Christ. I thought, said Christiana, of some¬ 
 thing of this; but I could not imagine it all. I 
 thought that we were like spiders, and that we 
 looked like ugly creatures, in what fine room soever 
 we were; but that by this spider, this venomous 
 and ill-favoured creature, we were to learn how to 
 act faith, that came not into my mind. And yet she 
 has taken hold with her hands, as I see, and dwells 
 in the best room in the house. 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. 
 
 6 They knew the venom of sin which was in their fallen 
 nature. This made them cover their faces with shame, and 
 sink into deep humility of heart. Eyery true interpreter of 
 God’s Word—yea, the blessed Interpreter of God’s heart, 
 Jesus—will look pleasantly upon such who confess the truth ; 
 while he beholds the proud, self-righteous sinner afar otf.—- 
 (Mason.) 
 
 6 Eaith apprehends, and then the soul dwells in the best 
 room indeed, even in the very heart of God in Christ. The 
 Lord increase our faith in this precious truth, that w r e may 
 the more love and glorify the God of grace and truth! O let 
 not our venom of sin deject us, while there is the blood of 
 Christ to cleanse us! O for a stronger love to Christ, and 
 greater hatred of siu ! Both spring from believing.—(Mason.) 
 The emblem of the spider is illustrated in Bunyau’s invaluable 
 treatise on the Resurrection and Eternal Judgment —‘The 
 spider will be a witness against man, for she layeth hold with 
 her hands, and is in kings’ palaces. It is man only that will 
 not lay hold on the kingdom of heaven, as the spider doth bid 
 him. Pr. xxx. 28.’ —(Vol. ii. p. 111 .)—(Ed.) 
 
 --Call me not ugly thing; 
 
 God, wisdom hath unto the pismire given, 
 
 And spiders may teach men the way to heaven. 
 
 (Bunyan’s Emblems) 
 
 2k 
 
186 
 
 TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 s 
 
 He had them then into another room, where 
 
 Of the Hen and ' vas a ^ en an( ^ chickens, and bid them 
 Chickens. 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 outcry. Mat. xxiii. 37. 
 
 Now, said he, compare this hen to your King, 
 and these chickens to his obedient ones. 1 For, 
 answerable to her, himself has his methods, which 
 he walketh in towards his people ; by his common 
 call, he gives nothing; by his special call, he always 
 has something to give; he has also a brooding 
 voice, for them that are under his wing ; and he 
 has an outcry, to give the alarm when he seeth the 
 enemy come. 2 3 I chose, my darlings, to lead you 
 into the room where such things are, because you 
 are women, and they are easy for you.° 
 
 Christ. And Sir, said Christiana, pray let us 
 see some more. So he had them into the slaughter¬ 
 ed the Butcher house, where was a butcher killing of 
 and the Sheep. a s heep ; and behold the sheep was 
 
 1 It is very humbling to human pride to he compared to 
 chickeus, as dependants on the fostering care of the hen, or as 
 children relying upon a parent. In Bunyan’s Last Sermon, 
 are some striking allusions to the Christian’s dependence upon 
 his heavenly Father:—‘It is natural for a child, if he wants 
 shoes, to tell his father; if he wants bread, they go and tell 
 him. So should the children of God do for spiritual bread 
 —strength of grace—to resist Satan. When the devil tempts 
 you, run home and tell your heavenly Father—pour out your 
 complaints to God; this is natural to children. If any wrong 
 them, they tell their father; so do those that are horn of God, 
 when they meet with temptations, they go and tell God of 
 them.’—(Vol. ii. p. 757.)—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Common call, the invitations; brooding voice, the pro¬ 
 mises ; outcry, the warnings of the gospel.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 Observations and experience justify this excellent simile. 
 
 God’s common call is to all his creatures who live within the 
 sound of his gospel. His special call is when he bestows the 
 grace, peace, and pardon of the gospel of Christ upon his 
 people. The brooding note is when he gathers them under 
 his wings, warms their hearts with the comforts of his love, 
 nourishes their souls with close fellowship with himself, and 
 refreshes their spirits with the overflowings of joy in the Holy 
 Ghost. ‘In the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice,’ says 
 David. Ps. lxiii. 7- ‘ I sat down under his shadow with great 
 
 delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.’ Ca. ii. 3. O for 
 more of these precious brooding notes, to be gathered under 
 the wing of Immanuel! But be our frames and experiences 
 what they may, still we are ever in danger; for our enemies 
 surround us on every side, and our worst are within us. 
 Therefore our Lord has an outcry; he gives the alarm, calls 
 us, and warns us of danger. Why? That we should flee. O 
 pilgrims, when dangers are near, run unto him ! For ‘ the 
 name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous runneth 
 into it, and is safe.’ Pr. xviii. 10.—(Mason.) 
 
 quiet, and took her deatli patiently. Then said 
 the Interpreter, You must learn of this sheep to 
 suffer, and to put up wrongs without murmurings 
 and complaints. Behold how quietly she taketh 
 her death, and without 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 these? So Chris- ° 
 tiana said, Yes. Then said he again, Behold the 
 flowers are diverse in stature, in quality, and colour, 
 and smell, and virtue; and some are better than 
 also where the gardener hath set them. 
 
 some 
 
 there they stand, and quarrel not with one another. 4 
 
 Again, he had them into his field, which he had 
 
 sowed with wheat and corn; but when 
 , . , . . . „ ,, , Of the Field. 
 
 they beheld, the tops of all were cut 
 off, only the straw remained ; he said again, This 
 ground was dunged, and ploughed, and sowed ; but 
 what shall we do with the crop ? Then said Chris¬ 
 tiana, Burn some, and make muck of the rest. 
 Then said the Interpreter again, Fruit, you see, is 
 that thing you look for, 5 and for want of that you 
 
 4 The church is a garden enclosed, Christ is the gardener, 
 his people are called God’s husbandry. The difference in the 
 plants and flowers shows the different effects of grace upon the 
 heart. — (J. B.) When Christians stand every one in his 
 place, and do their own work, then they are like the flowers in 
 the garden, that stand and grow where the gardener hath 
 planted them; and then they shall both honour the garden in 
 which they are planted, and the gardener that hath so disposed 
 of them. From the hyssop in the wall, to the cedar in Leba¬ 
 non, their fruit is their glory—Christians are like the several 
 flowers in a garden, that have upon each of them the dew of 
 heaven; which, being shaken with the wind, they let fall their 
 dew at each others’ roots, whereby they are jointly nourished, 
 and become nourishers of one another. For Christians to 
 commuue savourly of God’s matters one with another, it is as 
 if they opened to each others’ nostrils boxes of perfume. Saith 
 Paul to the church at Rome, ‘ I long to see you, that I may 
 impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end ye may be 
 established; that is, that I may be comforted together with 
 you, by the mutual faith both of you and me.’ Ito. i. 11, 12. 
 —(Bunyan’s Christian Behaviour, vol. ii. pp. 550, 570.) 
 I have observed, that as there are herbs and flowers in our 
 gardens, so there are their counterfeits in the field; only they 
 are distinguished from the other by the name of wild ones. 
 There is faith and wild faith; and wild faith is presumption. 
 I call it wild faith, because God never placed it in his garden 
 —his church; it is only to be found in the field the world. 
 —(Bunyan’s Good News, vol. i. p. 93.) We ought not to be 
 contented with a situation among the noxious weeds of the 
 desert; but if we he planted among the ornamental and fra¬ 
 grant flowers of the Lord’s garden, we are honoured indeed. 
 We should watch against envy and ambition, contempt of our 
 brethren and contention. We ought to be satisfied in our 
 places, doing ‘ nothing through strife or vain glory, or with 
 murmurings and disputings;’ but endeavour, in the meekuess 
 of wisdom, to diffuse a heavenly fragrance around us, and to 
 adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour iu all things.—(Scott.) 
 
 6 The husbandman is not repaid by the straw or chaff. So 
 the sufferings of Christ, the preaching, promises, and ordin¬ 
 ances of the gospel, were not intended to bring men to profess 
 certain doctrines, or observe certain forms ; but to render men 
 fruitful in good works, by the influences of the Spirit of Christ. 
 All profession will terminate in everlasting misery, which is 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 187 
 
 condemn it to the fire, and to be trodden under 
 foot of men: beware that in this you condemn 
 not yourselves. 1 
 
 Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they 
 Of the Rohm espied a little robin with a great spider 
 andtheSpider. j n ] l i s mouth; so the Interpreter said, 
 
 Look here. So they looked, and Mercy wondered ; 
 but Christiana said, What a disparagement is it 
 to such a little pretty bird as the robin-redbreast 
 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 seem also to have a 
 very great love for professors that are sincere; 
 and above all other, to desire to sociate with them, 
 and to be in their company, as if they could live 
 upon the good man’s crumbs. They pretend also, 
 that therefore it is that they 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. 2 
 
 So, when they were come again into the house, 
 Pray, and you because supper as yet Avas not ready, 
 wilicffyeVlies Christiana again desired that the In- 
 unreveaied. terpreter would either show or tell of 
 some other things that are profitable. 
 
 Then the Interpreter began, and said, The 
 fatter the sow is, the more she desires the mire; 
 the fatter the ox is, the more gamesomely he goes 
 to the slaughter; and the more healthy the lusty 
 man is, the more prone he is unto evil. 
 
 There is a desire in women to go neat and fine, 
 and it is a comely thing to be adorned with that 
 that in God’s sight is of great price. 
 
 It is easier watching a night or two, than to sit 
 
 up a whole year together. So it is easier for one 
 to begin to profess well, than to hold out as ho 
 should to the end. 
 
 Every shipmaster, when in a storm, will will¬ 
 ingly cast that overboard that is of the smallest 
 value in the vessel; but who will throw the best 
 out first? None but he that feareth not God. 
 
 One leak will sink a ship; and one sin will 
 destroy a sinner. 
 
 He that forgets his friend, is ungrateful unto 
 him ; but he that forgets his Saviour, is unmerciful 
 to himself. 
 
 He that lives in sin, and looks for happiness 
 hereafter, is like him that soweth cockle, and 
 thinks to fill his barn with wheat or barley. 
 
 If a man would live well, let him fetch his last day 
 to him, and make it always his company keeper. 
 
 Whispering, and change of thoughts, prove that 
 sin is in the world. 
 
 If the world, which God sets light by, is counted 
 a thing of that worth with men; what is heaven, 
 which God commendeth? 
 
 If the life that is attended with so many 
 troubles, is so loatli to be let go by us, what is 
 the life above? 
 
 Everybody 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. 3 
 
 When the Interpreter had done, he takes them 
 out into his garden again, and had of the tree tllal 
 them to a tree, whose inside was all is rotten at 
 rotten and gone, and yet it grew and 
 had leaves. Then said Mercy, What means this ? 
 This tree, said he, whose outside is fair, and whose 
 inside is rotten, it is to which many may be com¬ 
 pared, 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. 4 
 
 not productive of this good fruit. * True religion and unde- 
 tiled ’ consists not in forms, creeds, and ceremonies, but is ‘ to 
 visit and comfort the widows and the fatherless.’—(Scott.) 
 
 1 This is a necessary caution. Paul says, ‘ Thou art inex¬ 
 cusable, 0 man, whosoever thou art that judgest; for wherein 
 thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself, for thou that 
 judgest doest the same things.’ James has laid down an ex¬ 
 cellent rule of conduct—0 that it were more attended to!— 
 ‘ So speak ye, and so do, as they that shall be judged by the 
 law of liberty.’ How inconsistent for a pardoned malefactor 
 to insult even those who are under condemnation! If any 
 man seemeth to be religious, and bridleth not his tongue from 
 commending himself and condemning others, this man’s reli¬ 
 gion is vain. He that judgeth his brother speaketh evil of the 
 law, and judgeth the law.—(J. 13.) 
 
 ■ A very striking emblem this, and most pertinently applied; 
 and if your soul is sincere, it will cause a holy fear, create a 
 godly jealousy, put you upon self-examining, and make you 
 sigh out in some such words as David, * Search me, O God, 
 
 and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts: and see 
 if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way 
 everlasting.’ Ps. cxxxix. 23, 24. O what will it avail in a 
 dying hour, or in the judgment day, that we have worn the 
 mark of profession, and seemed to man, what we were not in 
 heart and reality of life before God 1 Prom all self-deceiving, 
 good Lord, deliver us 1 for we are naturally prone to it. 
 
 (Mason.) 
 
 3 This observation is grounded on the good old distinction, 
 that the merit of Christ’s obedience unto death is sufficient for 
 all who by faith ajpj/ly for an interest in it. Nothing but 
 pride, the carnal mind, and enmity to God and religion, 
 influence men to neglect so gi*eat salvation; and when the 
 regenerating power of the Holy Spirit accompanies the 
 Word, sinners are made willing to accept the protlered mercy, 
 and encouraged by the invitations which before they sinfully 
 slighted.—(Scott.) 
 
 4 That is my very character, says many a doubting, broken- 
 
 - tf 
 'll.*' 
 
 iIS 
 
 SI 
 
 
 
 
183 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Now supper was ready, tlie table spread, and 
 They are at all things set on the board; so they 
 Supper. sa t d own and did eat, when one had 
 given thanks. And the Interpreter did usually 
 entertain those that lodged with him, with music 
 at meals; so the minstrels played. There was 
 also one that did sing, and a very fine voice he 
 had. His song was this: 
 
 The Lord is only my support, 
 
 And he that doth me feed; 
 
 How can I then want anything 
 Whereof I stand in need ? 
 
 When the song and music was ended , 1 the In- 
 „ _ terpreter asked Christiana what it 
 
 Talk at Supper. I 
 
 was that at first did move her to betake 
 Christiana’s ex- nerselr to a rilgritn s life. Christiana 
 penence. answered, First, The loss of my hus¬ 
 band came into my mind, at which I was heartily 
 grieved; but all that was but natural affection. 
 Then, after that, came the troubles and pilgrimage 
 of my husband into 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. 
 
 Inter. But met you with no opposition before 
 you set out of doors ? 
 
 Christ. Yes, a neighbour of mine, one Mrs. 
 Timorous (she was akin to him that would have 
 persuaded my husband to go back, for fear of the 
 lions). She all to befooled me for, as she called it, 
 my intended desperate adventure; she also urged 
 
 hearted sinner. Well, thank God, says many a self-confident, 
 whole-hearted Pharisee, it is far from being mine. We can 
 only say this, he that knows most of his own superlatively 
 deceitful and desperately wicked heart, suspects himself most, 
 and exercises most godly jealousy over himself; while persons, 
 who see least of themselves, are most self-confident and daring. 
 Even Judas could as boldly ask, ‘Master, is it I’ who shall 
 betray thee ? as any of the rest of his disciples.—(Mason.) 
 
 1 Mr. Ivimey supposes this to be intended by Mr. Bunyan 
 to show his approbation of the practice of singing in public 
 worship. It was then a custom which had been recently 
 introduced, and was a subject of strong controversy. Soon 
 after Bunyan’s death, Benjamin Reach vindicated the prac¬ 
 tice, by proving that singing is an ordinance of Jesus Christ, 
 in answer to Marlowe’s Discourse against Singing. It must 
 not be forgotten, that our pilgrim forefathers generally met in 
 secret, and that singing would have exposed them to imminent 
 peril of their lives. !Now we have no such fear; we can unite 
 heart and voice in the language of Dr. Watts—- 
 
 * Lord, how delightful ’tis to see 
 A whole assembly worship thee! 
 
 At once they sing.’ 
 
 That is, when singing men or women do not prevent the 
 godly from uniting in this delightful part of Divine worship 
 by introducing new tunes, to sing to the praise and glory of 
 themselves. Let such as are guilty of this solemnly ask the 
 question, Was the late Mr. Huntingdon right in estimating 
 their piety at less than twopence per dozen ?—(Ed.) 
 
 what she could to dishearten me to it; the hard¬ 
 ship and troubles that my husband met with in the 
 way, but all this I got over pretty well. 2 But a 
 dream that I had of two ill-looked ones, that I 
 thought did plot how to make me miscarry in my 
 journey, that hath troubled me much; yea, it still 
 runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every one 
 that I meet, lest they should meet me to do me a 
 mischief, and to turn me out of the way. Yea, I 
 may tell my Lord, though I would not have every¬ 
 body know it, that between this and the gate by 
 which we got into the way, we were both so sorely 
 assaulted that we were made to cry out, Murder! 
 and the two that made this assault upon us were 
 like the two that I saw in my dream. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is 
 good, thy latter end shall greatly in- a question put 
 crease. So he addressed himself to t0 Mercy< 
 Mercy, and said unto her, And what moved thee 
 to come hither, sweet heart ? 
 
 Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a 
 while continued silent. 
 
 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 which 
 
 ■t M ATKWPr 
 
 makes me covet to be 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. 3 
 
 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 be gone from our town, I and another went 
 accidentally to see her; so we knocked at the door 
 and went in. When we were within, and seeing 
 what she was doing, we asked 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 
 
 2 Ah, Mrs. Timorous, how many professed pilgrims hast 
 thou befooled and turned back 1 How often does she attack 
 and affright many real pilgrims! I am sure she has often 
 made my poor heart ache with her ghastly looks and terrify¬ 
 ing speeches. 0 may we ever say to her, in our Lord’s words, 
 ‘ Get thee behind me, Satan; thou savourest not the things 
 that be of God, but those that be of men.’ Mat. xvi. 23.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 3 A very simple and artless confession. The Lord works 
 very differently upon his elect; but always to the same end, 
 namely, to make us prize Christ, his salvation and his ways, 
 and to abhor ourselves, the paths of sin, and to cast off all 
 self-righteous hopes. If this is effected in thy heart, reader, 
 no matter whether thou canst tell of visions and dreams, and 
 talk high of experiences. Where the soul is rooted and 
 grounded in the knowledge of Christ, and love to his ways, 
 though there may be many fears, yet this is an indubitable 
 proof of a real and sincere pilgrim.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 189 
 
 upon a harp, eating and drinking at his Prince’s 
 table, and singing praises to him for bringing him 
 thither, &c. Now, methought, while she was 
 telling these things unto us, my heart burned 
 within me ; and I said in my heart, If this be true, 
 I will leave my father and my mother, and the land 
 of my nativity, and will, if I may, go along with 
 Christiana. 
 
 So I asked her further of the truth of these 
 things, and if she would let me go with her; for I 
 saw now that there was no dwelling, but with the 
 danger of ruin, any longer in our town. But yet 
 I came away with a heavy heart, not for that I was 
 unwilling to come away, but for that so many of 
 my relations were left behind. 
 
 And I am come, with all the desire of my heart, 
 and will go, if I may, with Christiana, unto her 
 husband, and his King . 1 
 
 Inter. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast 
 given credit to the truth . 2 Thou art a Ruth, who 
 did, for the love she bare to Naomi, and to the 
 Lord her God, leave father and mother, and the 
 land of her nativity, to come out, and go with a 
 people that she knew not heretofore. ‘ The Lord 
 recompense thy work, and a full reward be given 
 thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings 
 thou art come to trust.’ Ru. ii. 12. 
 
 Now supper was ended, and preparation was 
 
 They address ma ^ e f° r bed» the women were laid 
 themselves singly alone, and the boys by them¬ 
 selves. Now when Mercy was in bed, 
 she could not sleep for joy, for that now her doubts 
 Mercy’s good of missing at last, were removed 
 mght’s rest. f ur ti ier f r0 m her than ever they w r ere 
 
 before. So she lay blessing and praising God, who 
 had had such favour for her. 
 
 In the morning they rose 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 
 
 1 They who are acquainted with the manner in which per¬ 
 sons are received into Congregational churches, hy relating a 
 verbal account of their experience, will recognize in this nar¬ 
 rative a resemblance to that practice. Christiana, a grave 
 matron, appears to have felt no difficulty in complying with 
 the requisition; but Mercy, young and inexperienced, blushed 
 and trembled, and for a while continued silent. Their profes¬ 
 sion being approved, the readiness of the church to receive 
 them is expressed by the warmest wishes for their spiritual 
 prosperity.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 2 ‘Thou hast given credit to the truth;’ what is this hut 
 faith—the faith of the operation of God? But some may ask, 
 AVhat! is justifying, saving faith, nothing more than a belief 
 of the truth ? If so, the very devils believe ; yea, more, they 
 tremble also. True; but mind how Mercy’s faith wrought by 
 her works. She fled for refuge to the hope set before her in 
 the gospel. She fled from siu, from the City of Destruction, 
 to Christ for salvation. Though she had not the joy of faith, 
 yet she followed on to kuow the Lord, walking in his ways, 
 and hoping for comfort from the Lord in his due time. O 1 
 if thou hast a grain of this precious faith in thy heait, bless 
 Jesus for it, and go ou thy way rejoicing.— (Mason.) 
 
 he to the damsel that first opened unto them, Take 
 them and have them into the garden to the bath, 
 and there wash them, and make them clean from 
 the soil which they have gathered by travelling. 
 Then Innocent the damsel took them, and had 
 them into the garden, and brought The bath 
 them to the bath; so she told them ?anctlfi cation. 
 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 then w^ent in and washed, yea,. 
 
 , J , , , - „ 11 They wash in it. 
 
 they and the boys and all; and they 
 
 came out of that bath, not only sweet and clean, 
 
 but also much enlivened and strengthened in 
 
 their joints . 3 So when they came in, they looked 
 
 fairer a deal than when they went out to the 
 
 washing . 4 
 
 When they w T ere 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 They 
 that were washed in his bath. So the seal was 
 brought, and he set his mark upon them, that they 
 might be known in the places whither they v T ere 
 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 . 5 6 
 This seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was 
 an ornament to their faces. It also added to their 
 
 3 Mr. Ivimey considers that this bath in the garden refers 
 to the baptism of the pilgrims by immersion, after having 
 related their experience, as a publicly putting on of Christ. 
 ‘ And now why tarriest thou ? Arise, and be baptized, and 
 wash away thy sins, calling on the name of the Lord.’ Ac. 
 xxii. 16. Innocent says that ‘ her master would have them 
 do;’ and they went out into the garden to the bath, and were 
 much enlivened by it. Bunyan left it to the convert to act 
 for himself as to water-baptism; all that he required, as a pre¬ 
 requisite to church-communion, was the new birth, or the bap¬ 
 tism of the Holy Spirit. He calls this the * bath of sanctifica¬ 
 tion;’ no Christian considers water-baptism a source of sancti¬ 
 fication; it is only the outward sign. It must be left to the 
 reader’s candid judgment to decide whether baptism, upon a 
 profession of faith, is here intended by that that the master 
 would have them do. — (Ed.) 
 
 4 There is no travelling on pilgrimage without gathering 
 
 soil. There are no pilgrims but daily need to have recourse 
 to this bath of sanctification — the blood of Jesus, which 
 cleanses from all sin. 1 Jn. i. 7- Christ is the fountain opened 
 for sin and for uncleanness. Zee. xiii. 1. Christ is the soul s 
 only bath. As all baths are for the purification of the body, 
 such is this bath to our soul. But unless a bath be used, this 
 cannot be effected; so, unless we have recourse to Christ, we 
 caunot enjoy the purification of the soul; but the Holy Ghost, 
 the Sanctifier, convinces us of sin, shows us our fresh-contracted 
 spots and defilements, and leads us to the blood of the Lamb. 
 O how does this enliven and strengthen our souls, by fil l in g 
 our conscience with joy and peace in believing !—(Mason.) 
 
 6 Baptism and the Lord’s Supper I receive and own as signs 
 of the covenant of grace; the former as a sign ot our engraft¬ 
 ing into Christ, and the latter to show forth his death, as an 
 emblem or type of the benefits purchased thereby to his church 
 and people.—(Philip Henry, altered by Ed.) 
 
190 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 gravity, and made their countenances more like 
 them of angels . 1 Ex. xiii. 8-10. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again to the damsel 
 that waited upon these women, Go into the vestry 
 and fetch out garments for these people; so she 
 They are went and fetched out white raiment, 
 clothed. an d ] aa j down before him ; so he com¬ 
 manded them to put it on. ‘ It was fine liren, 
 white and clean.’ When the women were thus 
 adorned, they seemed to he 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. than j am> > gai( j 0 ne; and ‘you 
 
 are more comely than I am,’ said another. 2 The 
 children also stood amazed to see into what fashion 
 they were brought. 3 * 
 
 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 daugh¬ 
 ters, said he, and conduct them to the house called 
 Beautiful, at which place they will rest next. 1 So 
 he took his weapons and went before them; and 
 the 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 
 sang— 
 
 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; 
 
 1 This means the sealing of the Spirit, whereby they were 
 sealed unto the day of redemption. Ep. iv. 30. O this is 
 blessed sealing! None know the comfort and joy of it but 
 those who have experienced it. It confirms our faith, estab¬ 
 lishes our hope, and inflames our affections to God the Father 
 for his everlasting love, to God the Son for his everlasting 
 atonement and righteousness, and to God the Spirit for his 
 enlightening mercy, regenerating grace, quickening, sanctify¬ 
 ing, testifying, and assuring influences, whereby we know that 
 we are the children of God; for ‘ the Spirit itself beareth wit¬ 
 ness with our spirits, that we are the children of God.’ Ro. 
 viii. 16. All the comfort of our souls lies in keeping this seal 
 clear in our view. Therefore grieve not the Holy Spirit.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 2 They who have put on this raiment are clothed with 
 humility; they readily perceive the excellence of other be¬ 
 lievers, but can only discern their own in the glass of God’s 
 Word. At the same time, they become very observant of 
 their own defects, and severe in animadverting on them, but 
 
 proportionally candid to their brethren; and thus they learn 
 
 the hard lesson of esteeming others better than themselves.— 
 
 (Scott.) 
 
 To move me for to watch and pray, 
 
 To strive to be sincere ; 
 
 To take my cross up day by day, 
 
 And serve the Lord with fear. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that they went on, 
 and Great-heart went before them: so they went 
 and came to the place where Christian s burden 
 fell off his hack, 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 ; hut what it is to have 
 pardon by deed, or in the way that it was ob¬ 
 tained, Mr. Great-heart, I suppose you know; 
 wherefore, if you please, let us hear you discourse 
 thereof. 
 
 Great-heart. Pardon by the deed done, is par¬ 
 don obtained by some one, for another A comment up- 
 that hath need thereof: not by the 
 
 person pardoned, but in the way, saith hate, or a dis- 
 R R .. ixi i r • i •, course of our 
 
 another, in which 1 have obtained it. being justified 
 
 So then, to speak to the question more 1)y Christ ' 
 
 [at] large, the pardon that you and Mercy, and 
 
 these boys have attained, was obtained by another, 
 
 to wit, by him that let you in at the gate; and 
 
 he hath obtained it in this double way. He has 
 
 performed righteousness to cover you, and spilt 
 
 blood to wash you in. 5 
 
 Christ. 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. 
 
 Christ. 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 righ- 
 
 3 This is always the case when souls are clothed in the robe 
 of Christ’s righteousness. They are little, low, and mean in 
 their own eyes, and they esteem each other better than them¬ 
 selves ; whereas they who at all look to, or depend upon, theii 
 own righteousness for their clothing and justification before 
 God, always look down with an air of supercilious contempt 
 upon others who they think are not so righteous as them¬ 
 selves. Lord, hide self-righteous pride from my heart, and 
 sink me into the depth of humility, that I may ever glory m 
 thee, in whom I am perfectly righteous!—(Mason.) See also 
 Ro. vi. 1-5, and Gal. iii. 27— (Ivimey.) 
 
 4 The conductor, named Great-heart, is a gospel minister 
 under the direction of the Holy Spirit; courageous, armed 
 with the sword of the Spirit, enjoying the hope of salvation, 
 and defended by the shield of faith.—(Burder.) 
 
 6 This is the comfort, joy, and glorying of a pilgrim’s 
 heart. Hath Jesus performed righteousness to cover us, and 
 spilled blood to wash us ? Have we the faith of this ? 0 how 
 ought we to love him, rejoice in him, and study to glorify him 
 in every step of our pilgrimage!—(Mason.) 
 

THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 191 
 
 teousness is essential to that nature; s that one 
 may as easily cause the nature to be extinct, as to 
 separate its justice or righteousness from it. Of 
 these righteousnesses, therefore, we are not made 
 pai takers, so as that they, or any of them, should 
 be put upon us, that we might be made just, and 
 li\e thereby. Besides these, there is a righteous¬ 
 ness which this Person has, as these two natures 
 aie joined 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 righteous¬ 
 ness 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 parts with his Godhead ; if he 
 parts with his second righteousness, he parts with 
 the purity of his manhood; if he parts with this 
 third, he parts with that perfection that capacitates 
 him to the office of mediation. He has, therefore, 
 another righteousness, which standeth in perform¬ 
 ance, 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 man s disobedience, many were made sin¬ 
 ners ; so by the obedience of one, shall many be 
 made righteous.’ 1 r 0 . v. 19. 
 
 Christ. But are the other righteousnesses of 
 no use to us ? 
 
 Great-heart. Yes; for though they are essen¬ 
 tial to his natures and office, and so cannot be 
 communicated unto another, yet it is by virtue of 
 them, that the righteousness that justifies, is, for 
 that purpose, efficacious. The righteousness of 
 his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience ; the 
 righteousness 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 per¬ 
 
 2 Here Bunyan gives a very clear and distinct account of 
 that righteousness of Christ, as Mediator, which he wrought 
 out by his perfect obedience to the law of God for all his seed. 
 And by this righteousness, and no other, are they fully justified 
 from all condemnation in the sight of God. Reader, study 
 this point deeply, so as to be established in it. It is the 
 essence of the gospel, enters into the life and joy of faith, 
 brings relief to the conscience, and influence to the love of 
 the Lord our Righteousness; and so brings forth the fruits of 
 righteousness which are by him to the praise and glory of God, 
 and administers Divine consolation in the hour of death.— 
 tMason.) 
 
 fectly so without it. Here, then, is a righteous¬ 
 ness that Christ, as God, as man, as God-man, has 
 no need of, with reference to himself, and tliere- 
 foie he can spare it ; a justifying righteousness, 
 that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore he 
 giveth it away; hence it is called ‘the gift of 
 righteousness.’ r 0 . v. 17. This righteousness, since 
 Christ Jesus the Lord has made himself under the 
 law, must be given away; for the law doth not 
 only bind him that is under it ‘to do justly,’ but 
 to use charity. Wherefore he must, he ought, by 
 the law, if lie 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; where¬ 
 fore 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 
 Loid Chiist is he that has worked, and has given 
 away what he wrought for, to the next poor beggar 
 he meets. 2 
 
 But, again, m order to pardon by deed, there 
 must something be paid to God as a price, as well 
 as something prepared to cover us withal. Sin has 
 delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous 
 law; now, from this curse we must be justified by 
 way of redemption, a price being paid for the 
 harms we have done, Ro. iv. 24; and this is by the 
 blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your 
 place and stead, and died your death for your 
 transgressions. Ga. m. 13. Thus has he ransomed 
 you from your transgressions by blood, and covered 
 your polluted and deformed souls with righteous 
 ness. For the sake of which, God passeth by you, 
 and will not hurt you, when he comes to judo-e the 
 world. 
 
 Christ. This is brave. Now, I see there was 
 something to be learned by our being Christiana af- 
 pardoned by word and deed. Good [^^5 
 Mercy, let us labour to keep this in redemption. 
 
 Is there righteousness in Christ? That is mine, the 
 believer may say. Did he bleed for sins ? It was for mine. 
 Hath he overcome the law, the devil, and hell ? The victory 
 is mine. And I do count this a most glorious life.—Some¬ 
 times (I hless the Lord) my soul hath this life not only 
 imputed to me, but the glory of it upon my spirit. Upon a 
 time, when I was under many condemnings of heart, and 
 fearing I should miss glory, methought I felt such a secret 
 motion as this—Thy righteousness is in heaven. The splen¬ 
 dour and shining of the Spirit of grace upon my soul, gave 
 me to see clearly that my righteousness, by which I should be 
 justified, was the Son of God himself representing me before 
 the mercy-seat in his own person ; so that I saw clearly, that 
 day and night, wherever I was, and whatever I was doing, 
 there was my righteousness, just before the eyes of the Divine 
 glory, and continually at the right hand of God. At another 
 time, whilst musing, being afraid to die, these words came 
 upon my sou), ‘Being justified freely by his grace, through 
 the redemption which i3 in Christ.’ This stayed my heart. 
 And thus is the sinner made alive from the dead, by being 
 justified through the righteousness of Christ, which is unto afl 
 and upon all them that believe.—(Bunyau’s Law and Grace) 
 
192 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 
 mind; and my children, do you remember it also. 
 But, Sir, was not this it that made my good 
 Christian’s burden fall from off his shoulder, and 
 
 that made him give three leaps for joy? 1 
 
 Great-heart. Yes, it was the belief of this, 
 
 How the strings tbat cut those strin g s > that could not 
 that bound be C ut by other means ; and it was to 
 Christian’s bur- . P ,. . , r • 
 
 den to him give him a proof oi the virtue of this, 
 
 were cut. that he was suffered to carry his bur¬ 
 
 den to the cross. 
 
 Christ. I thought so; for though my heart was 
 lightful and joyous before, yet it is ten times more 
 lightsome and joyous now. And I am persuaded 
 by what I have felt, though I have felt hut little 
 as vet, that if the most burdened man in the 
 world was here, and did see and believe as I now 
 do, it yvould make his heart the more merry and 
 blithe. 2 
 
 Great-heart. There is not only comfort, and 
 TT _ .. the ease of a burden brought to us, 
 to Christ is be- by the sight and consideration of these, 
 got m the soul. ^ an en( j eare( l a fF ec tion 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 re¬ 
 demption, and so, with the man that hath wrought 
 it for him ? 
 
 Christ. True; methinks it makes my heart 
 
 First Part Meed to think that he should bleed 
 p. 102. ’ for me. >v 0 thou loving One! 0 
 Cause of ad- thou blessed One ! Thou deservest to 
 have me ; thou hast bought me; thou 
 deservest to have me all; thou hast paid for me 
 ten thousand times more than I am worth! No 
 marvel that this made the water stand in my 
 husband’s eyes, and that it made him trudge so 
 nimbly on; I am persuaded he wished me with 
 him; but, vile wretch that I was, I let him come 
 all alone. 0 Mercy, that thy father and mother 
 were here; yea, and Mrs. Timorous also; nay, I 
 wish now with all my heart, that here was Madam 
 
 1 Sometimes I Lave been so loaden with my sins, that I 
 could not tell where to rest, nor what to do; yea, at such 
 times, I thought it would have taken away my senses; yet, at 
 that time, God through grace hath all on a sudden so effectu¬ 
 ally applied the blood that was spilt at Mount Calvary out of 
 the side of Jesus, unto my poor, wounded, guilty conscience, 
 that presently 1 have found such a sweet, solid, sober, heart- 
 comforting peace, that I have been in a strait to think that I 
 should love and honour him no more. Sometimes my sins 
 have appeared as big as all the sins of all the men in the 
 nation—(reader, these things be not fancies, for I have smarted 
 for this experience); but yet the least sti’eam of the heart- 
 blood of Jesus hath vanished all away, and I have been de¬ 
 livered up into sweet and heavenly peace and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost.—(Bunyan’s Law and Grace, vol. i. p. 549.) 
 
 2 While the soul lives upon the sweet impressions which 
 are made by the application of the promises, it may be said to 
 live upon frames and feelings; for as its comforts abate, so will 
 its confidence. The heart can never be established in grace, 
 till the understanding is enlightened to discern what it is to 
 have pardon by the deed done.’—(J. B.) 
 
 Wanton too. Surely, surely their hearts would be 
 affected; nor could the fear of the one, nor the 
 powerful lusts of the other, prevail with them to 
 go home again, and to refuse to become good 
 pilgrims. 3 
 
 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 that did see your Jesus bleed. There 
 were that stood by, and that saw the blood run 
 from his heart to the ground, and yet were so far 
 off this, that, instead of lamenting, they laughed 
 at him; and, instead of becoming his disciples, 
 did harden their hearts against him. So that all 
 that you have, .my. daughters, you To be affected 
 have by a peculiar impression made Wlt } 1 Christ, 
 
 " . L . and with what 
 
 by a Divine contemplating upon what he has done, is 
 
 I have spoken to you v Remember atlun s s P euaL 
 
 that it was told you, that the hen, by her common 
 
 call, gives no meat to her chickens. This you 
 
 have, therefore, by a special grace. 4 
 
 Now, I saw still in my dream, that they went on 
 until they were come to the place that Simple and 
 Simple, and Sloth, and Presumption, 5 Sloth, and 
 lay and slept in, when Christian went hanged, and 
 by on pilgrimage; and, behold, they wLy ' 
 
 ’were hanged up in irons a little way off on the 
 other side. 6 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy to him that was their 
 
 3 O brave Christiana! See what it is to have one’s heart 
 inflamed with a sense of the love of Christ. Christiana thinks 
 every one would naturally be affected as she was, if they were 
 present; but she forgets that which she sees and feels is of 
 special, peculiar, distinguishing grace. — (Mason.) Shall I 
 have my sins and lose my soul ? Would not heaven be better 
 to me than my sins ?—the company of God, Christ, saints, 
 and angels, than the company of Cain, Judas, Balaam, with 
 the devils, in the furnace of fire? Canst thou now that 
 readest, or hearest these lines, turn thy back, and go on in 
 thy sins ?—(Bunyan’s Law and Grace, vol. i. p. 575.) Reader, 
 thus would Christiana plead with ungodly relatives and friends; 
 and if thou art in such a case, wilt thou not listen to such a 
 plea? —(Ed.) 
 
 4 Mind how tenderly Great-heart deals with warm-hearted 
 Christiana. He does not attempt to throw cold water upon 
 the fire of her affections, but gently insinuates, 1. The peculiar 
 frame of the mind she speaks from; 2. Suggests that she must 
 not always expect to be in such raptures; and, 3. Reminds 
 her that her indulgences were of a peculiar nature, not com¬ 
 mon to all, but bestowed upon the faithful in Christ only; 
 and that, therefore, amidst all her joyful feelings, she should 
 know to whom she was indebted for them, and give all the 
 
 glory to the God of all grace.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 Simple, contented in gross ignorance; Sloth, an indolence 
 which smothers all conviction; Presumption, carnal security 
 which hardens against reproof.— (Andronicus.) These are the 
 great opposers of vital religion. The end of these things is 
 death—(Burder.) 
 
 0 It was a custom, to a late period, to hang up mui- 
 derers in irons, until the body dropped to pieces; that such 
 terrible examples might deter others from the like crimes; 
 heuce, under the old" wood-cut illustrating this passage, is 
 written— 
 
 * Behold here how the slothful are a signe, 
 
 Hung up, ’cause holy ways they did decline.’ 
 
 —(Ed.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 193 
 
 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 pil 
 grims themselves, and whosoever they could they 
 hindered. They were for sloth and folly themselves, 
 and whoever they could persuade with, they made 
 so too; and, withal, taught them to presume that 
 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 persuade any to be of 
 their opinion ? 
 
 Great-heart. Yes; they turned several out of 
 Their crimes, the way. There was Slow-pace that 
 Who they pre- they persuaded to do as they. They 
 turn out of 1 the a ^ s ° prevailed with one Short-wind, 
 " ai ' with one No-heart, with one Linger- 
 
 after-lust, and with one Sleepy-head, and with a 
 young woman, her name was Dull, to turn out of 
 the way, and become as they. Besides, they 
 brought up an ill report of your Lord, persuading 
 others that he was a taskmaster. They also 
 brought up an evil report of the good land, saying 
 it was not half so good as some pretend it was. 
 They also began to vilify his servants, and to count 
 the very best of them meddlesome, troublesome, 
 busybodies. Further, they could call the bread of 
 God husks ; the comforts of his children, fancies ; 
 the travel and labour of pilgrims, things to no 
 purpose. 2 
 
 Christ. Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, 
 they shall never be bewailed by me. They have 
 but what they deserve; and I think it is well that 
 they hang so near the highway, that others may 
 see and take warning. But had it not been well 
 if their crimes had been engraven on some plate of 
 
 1 God, as it were, gibbets some professors, and causes tbeir 
 names and characters to be publicly exhibited, as a terror to 
 others, and as a warning to his own people.— (Mason.) The 
 dreadful falls and awful deaths of some professors are to put 
 others upon their guard against superficial, slothful, and pre¬ 
 sumptuous hopes. The real occasion of turning aside lies in 
 the concealed lusts of the heart.— (Scott.) 
 
 2 Let us consider the characters of these three professors: 
 
 1. Here is a Simple, a foolish credulous professor, ever learn¬ 
 
 ing, but never coming to the knowledge of the truth, so as to 
 
 believe it, love it, and be established on it; hence liable to be 
 carried away by every wind of doctrine. 2. Sloth, a quiet, 
 easy professor, who never disturbs any one by his diligence in 
 the A\ ord of God, nor his zeal for the truths and glory of 
 God. 3. Presumption, one who expects salvation in the end, 
 without the means prescribed by God for attaining it. 0 
 beware of these three sorts of professors, for they turn many 
 aside!—(Mason.) 
 
 6 \\ hat is meant by the Hill Difficulty ? Christiana has 
 set out from Destruction, been received and encouraged at the 
 wicket-gate, and directed ou her journey. The path is com¬ 
 paratively easy, until she is about to put on a public profes¬ 
 sion, by joining a church. This is situated upon the summit 
 of this hill of difficult ascent. Is it intended to represent that 
 prayerful, watchful, personal investigation into Divine truth, 
 which ought to precede church-fellowship ? Nothing is more 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 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 
 before we caine hither; who knows else what they 
 might have done to sucli poor tvomen 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 Difficulty, 3 where, again, r p 
 their good friend, Mr. Great-heart, p- 104 . 
 took an occasion to tell them of what it is difficult 
 happened there when Christian him- doctSinTr- 
 self went by. So he had them first roneous tlmcs - 
 to the spring. Lo, said he, this is the spring that 
 Christian drank of, before he went up this hill; 
 and then it was clear and good, but now it is dirty 
 with the feet of some that are not desirous that 
 pilgrims here should quench their thirst. Eze. xxxiv. 18. 
 Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, trow ? 
 But, said their guide, it will do, if taken up, and 
 put into a vessel that is sweet and good; for then 
 the dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water 
 come out by itself more clear. 4 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. 5 6 
 
 difficult to flesh and blood than to be compelled, upon pain of 
 endless ruin, to think for ourselves on matters of religion. 
 The formalist and hypocrite follow the persuasions of man, 
 and take an easier path, and are lost. The fear of man causes 
 some to abandon the ascent. Dr. Cheever has, in his Hill 
 h/Jiculty, very happily described the energy that is needful to 
 enable the pilgrim to make the ascent, lie forcibly proves 
 the utter impossibility of making the ascent by ceremonial 
 observances, or while encumbered with worldly cares or pride 
 in trinkets of gold and costly array. He reminds us of the 
 solemu advice of Peter, “ be ye built up a spiritual house, a 
 holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacrifice acceptable to God 
 by Jesus Christ.” Every weight must be set aside, and salva¬ 
 tion must be worked out with fear and trembling.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 The river of life is pure and clear as crystal. Is the 
 doctrine offered to thee so ? Or is it muddy, and mixed with 
 the doctrines of men ? Look, man, and see, if the foot of the 
 worshippers of Baal be not there, and the water fouled thereby. 
 "What water is fouled is not the water of life, or at least not in 
 its clearness. Wherefore, if thou tindest it not right, go up 
 higher towards the spring-head, for nearer the spring the more 
 pure and clear is the water.— (Bunyan’s Water of Life.) 
 
 6 This represents <o us that some preachers, as the prophet 
 says, foul the water wWi their feet, Eze. xxxiv. 18; that is, 
 though they preach somewhat about Christ, and salvation by 
 him, yet they so clog, mire, and pollute the stream of free 
 grace, with pre-requisites, terms, and conditions, that the poor 
 
 25 
 
194 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Next, lie showed the# the two by-ways that 
 
 b piths were at ^ ie ^ 00 *' where 
 
 though barred Formality and Hypocrisy lost tlieni- 
 
 keep "all 1 from selves. And, said he, these are dan- 
 going in them. g er0 us paths. Two were here cast 
 
 away when Christian came by. And although, 
 as you see, these ways are since stopped up with 
 chains, posts, and a ditch, yet there are that will 
 choose to adventure here, rather than take the 
 pains to go up this hill. 1 
 
 Chhist. ‘ The way of transgressors is hard.’ rr. 
 xiii. 13. It is a wonder that they can get into those 
 ways without danger of breaking their necks. 
 
 Great-heart. They will venture. Yea, if at any 
 time any of the King’s servants do happen to see 
 them, and do call unto them, and tell them that 
 they are in the wrong ways, and do bid 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 Lord, we will not 
 hearken unto thee; but we will certainly do what¬ 
 soever thing goeth forth out of our own mouth, 
 Ac. Je. xliv. 16,17. Nay, if you look a little further, 
 you shall see that these ways are made cautionary 
 enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, and 
 chain; but also by being hedged up, yet they will 
 choose to go there. 2 
 
 Christ. They are idle; they love not to take 
 The reason why pains; uphill way is unpleasant to 
 
 to 0m go d °ii h0 by e - them * So H is fulfilled unt0 them as 
 wa ) s * it is written, ‘ The way of the slothful 
 
 man is as an hedge of thorns.’ Pr. xv. io. Yea, they 
 will rather choose to walk upon a snare, than to 
 go up this hill, and the rest of this way to the 
 city. 
 
 Then they set forward, and began to go up the 
 .... , hill, and up the hill they went; but 
 
 the Pilgrims to before they got to the top, Christiana 
 began to pant; and said, I dare say, 
 
 thirsty soul cannot drink the water, nor allay his thirst with 
 it; but is forced to let it stand, till these gross dregs sink to 
 the bottom. Yea, we ought to beware of drinking such filthy 
 dregs; for they will certainly swell us up with the tympany 
 of pride of our free will, human merit, and self-righteousness, 
 which oppose the glory of Jesus, and comfort of our souls.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 1 Although the cautions of Holy Writ are plain as posts 
 and chains, and the warnings as a ditch, and the solemn 
 threatenings of the New Testament against pharisaic formalism 
 and hypocrisy are like a hedge, to prevent pilgrims wandering 
 into paths that end in eternal misery, yet there are many who 
 break through all these merciful restraints, and rush upon 
 destruction.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Examine, which do you like best, self-soothing or soul- 
 searching doctrine? Pormalists and hypocrites love the 
 former, and hate the latter. But the sincere and upright are 
 discovered by desiring to have their hearts searched to the 
 quick, and their ways tried to the utmost; and, therefore, 
 with David will cry, ‘ Search me, 0 God, and know my heart; 
 try me, and know my thoughts; and see if there be any 
 wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.’ Ps. 
 czxxix. 23, 24.— (Mason.) 
 
 this is a breathing hill. No marvel if they that 
 love their ease more than their souls, choose to 
 themselves a smoother way. 3 Then said Mercy, I 
 must sit down ; also the least of the children began 
 to cry. Come, come, said Great-heart, sit not 
 down here, for a little above is the Prince s arbour. 
 Then took he the little boy by the hand, and led 
 him up thereto. 
 
 When they were come to the arbour, they were 
 very willing to sit down, for they were Tliey sit in the 
 all in a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, arbour. 
 
 How sweet is rest to them that labour. 4 S 1 'irst Part, 
 
 Mat. xi. 2 s. And how good is the Prince 
 of pilgrims, to provide such resting-places for 
 them ! Of this arbour I have heard much; but I 
 never saw it before. But here let us beware of 
 sleeping; for, as I have heard, for that it cost 
 poor Christian dear. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones. 
 Come, my pretty boys, how do you do ? The little boy’s 
 
 „ T i ’ r f J o • -i answer to the 
 
 What think you now of going on pit- guide, and also 
 grimage ? Sir, said the least, I was t0 Mercy - 
 almost beat out of heart ? but I thank you for 
 lending me a hand at my need. 0 And I remember 
 now what my mother hath 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. 6 
 
 Then said Mercy, But the proverb is, To go 
 down the hill is easy. But James is hard . 
 
 said (for that was his name), The ^st^p^iiiii or 
 day is coming, when, in my opinion, 
 going down hill will be the hardest of all. Tis 
 a good boy, said his Master, thou hast given her a 
 
 3 Heart-work is hard work; it is hard work to be stripped; 
 it is hard work to deny self, take up your cross, and follow 
 Jesus. It is hard work to light the fight of faith ; it is hard 
 work against hope to believe in hope. A formalist and hypo¬ 
 crite will go, in outward things, as far as the real Christian ; 
 but touch birn on the inward work, and he will start aside.— 
 
 (J- B.) 
 
 4 He who is a stranger to the hard w T ork of self-denial, and 
 how difficult it is to the flesh, knows not what this Hill Diffi¬ 
 culty means ; for the nearer to the arbour of Jesus’ rest, the 
 more difficulties in the way, but the sweeter it is when attained. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 6 Regard not in thy pilgrimage how difficult the passage is, 
 but whither it tends; not how delicate the journey is, but 
 where it ends. If it be easy, suspect it; if hard, endure it. 
 He that cannot excuse a bad way, accuseth his own sloth; 
 and he that sticks in a bad passage, can never attain a good 
 journey’s end.—(Quarles’ Enchiridion , cent. 3, ch. xxx.) 
 
 6 There were stairs in the temple, and but one pair, and 
 these winding. He that went up must turn with the stairs. 
 This is a type of a twofold repentance; that by which we turn 
 from natm-e to grace, and that by which we turn from the 
 imperfections of a state of grace to glory. But this turning 
 and turning still, displeases some much. They say it makes 
 them giddy, but I say, Nothing like this to make a man 
 steady. A straight stair is like the ladder that leads to the 
 gallows. They are turning stairs that lead to the heavenly 
 mansion. Stay not at their foot; but go up them, and up 
 them, and up them, till you come to heaven.—(Banyan's 
 Solomon s Temple.) 
 
 S ■ • ■ ■ tH I 
 
TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 right answer. Then Mercy smiled; but. the little 
 boy did blush. 1 
 
 Christ. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a 
 They refresh hit, a little to sweeten your mouths, 
 
 themselves, while you sit here to rest your legs ? 
 
 For I have here a piece of pomegranate, which 
 Mr. Interpreter put in my hand, just when I came 
 out of his doors. He gave me also a piece of a 
 honeycomb, and a little bottle of spirits. I thought 
 he gave you something, said Mercy, because he 
 called you aside. Yes ; so he did, said the other. 
 But, said Christiana, it shall still be, as I said it 
 should, when at first we came from home, thou 
 slialt be a sharer in all the good that I have, 
 because thou so willingly didst become my com¬ 
 panion. 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, \ ou are going on pilgrimage, and pre¬ 
 sently I shall return. Much good may what you 
 ha' e 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. 
 
 I he day wears away, if you think good, let us pre¬ 
 pare to be going. So they got up to go, and the 
 Christiana for- little boys went before. But Christiana 
 
 Sf spilits. b0ttle for S‘ ot t0 take lier bottle of spirits with 
 her; so she sent her little boy back 
 to fetch it. Then said Mercy, I think this is a 
 losing place. Here Christian lost his roll; and 
 here Christiana left her bottle behind her. Sir, 
 v hat is the cause of this ? So their guide made 
 answer, and said, The cause is sleep or forgetful¬ 
 ness. Some sleep when they should keep awake; 
 and some forget when they should remember; and 
 this is the very cause why, often at the resting- 
 places, some pilgrims, in some things, come off 
 
 Mark this. losers * Pilgrims should watch, and 
 remember what they have already re¬ 
 ceived under their greatest enjoyments; but for want 
 
 of doing so, ofttimes their rejoicing ends in tears, 
 First Fart, an d their sunshine in a cloud. 2 Witness 
 PP. 105, 106. t j ie storj 0 f Christian at this place. 3 
 
 1 M lien we are praised, a conscious blush should pervade 
 us, well knowing how much we have to be ashamed of. But 
 some have got such vain confidence in their own righteousuess, 
 merits, and perfection, that they have hereby got what the 
 Scriptures call a whore’s forehead, and refuse to be ashamed. 
 Je. iii. 3. O cry to the Lord continually against spiritual 
 pride, and for an humble heart, knowing thyself to be a poor 
 sinner!—(Mason.) 1 
 
 E\e looking first into those worthy privileges which God 
 ad given her, and dilating delightfully of them before the devil, 
 she lost the dread of the command from off her heart, which 
 6atan perceiving, now added to his former forged doubt a 
 plain and flat denial—' Ye shall not surely die.’ When people 
 dalh with the devil, and sit too near their outward advan¬ 
 tages,^ they fall into temptation.—(Bunyan on Genesis, vol. ii. 
 p» 429.) 
 
 3 Reader, mind this well, remember it often, and it will do 
 thee good. I am a witness against myself, of how much I 
 
 195 
 
 When they were come to the place where Mis¬ 
 trust and Timorous met Christian to persuade him 
 to go back for fear of the lions, they perceived as 
 it were a stage, and before it, towards the road, a 
 broad plate, with a copy of verses written thereon, 
 and underneath, the reason of raising up of that 
 
 stage in that place, rendered. Tlie°verses were 
 these:— 
 
 Let him who sees this stage take heed 
 Unto his heart and tongue; 
 
 Lest if he do not, here he speed. 
 
 As some have long agone. 
 
 The words underneath the verses were, ‘This 
 stage was built to punish such upon, who through 
 Timorousness or Mistrust, shall be afraid to go 
 further on pilgrimage; also, on this stage, both 
 Mistiust and Timorous were burned through the 
 tongue with a hot iron, for endeavouring to hinder 
 Christian in his journey. ’ 4 
 
 Then said Mercy, This is much like to the say¬ 
 ing 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.’ Fs. cxx. 3 - 4 . 
 
 So they went on, till they came within sight of 
 the lions. Now Mr. Great-heart was 
 a strong man, so he was not afraid of p. iOG. rt 
 a lion; but yet when they were come An emblem of 
 up to the place where the lions were, 11 1 1 1 0se lhat s° 
 the boys that went before were glad when there is 
 to cringe behind, for they were afraid fhi-hft^rten 
 of the lions; so they stepped back, and troub]es come - 
 went behind. At this their guide smiled, and said, 
 How now, my boys, do you love to go before, 
 when no danger doth approach, and love to come 
 behind so soon as the lions appear ? 
 
 _ N°w, as they went up, Mr. Great-heart drew 
 his sword, with intent to make a way for the Pil¬ 
 grims, in spite of the lions. Then there appeared 
 one, that it seems, had taken upon of Grim the 
 him to back the lions; and he said to Giant > an <i °f 
 
 -r,., . , . . , ’ lus backing the 
 
 tiie 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. 5 
 
 have lost by indulging the flesh, and how much I have suffered 
 
 by forgetfulness. But O what a gracious Lord do we serve 1 
 
 this is no excuse for our folly, but an aggravation of our faults; 
 and ought to sink us lower in shame, and to excite us to* 
 greater care, diligence, and watchfulness; else we shall surely 
 smart foi our lolly, it not in hell, yet in our consciences — 
 (Mason.) 
 
 4 1 his may refer to the awful end of one of Bunyan’s early 
 friends, who became a notorious apostate—one John Child, 
 whose sufferings were published with those of Spira. Child 
 was so afraid of persecution, as to give up his profession; and 
 then, overwhelmed by despair, he committed suicide. Or to 
 such an one as the professor, in the Marian days, who recanted 
 to save burning, but who was burnt to death by his house 
 catching fire.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 5 It is not very easy to determine the precise idea of the 
 
196 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said the Pilgrims’ guide, 
 These women and children are going on pilgrim¬ 
 age; and this is the way they must go, and go it 
 they shall, in spite of thee and the lions. 1 * * 
 
 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. 
 
 Christ. Then said Christiana, Though the high¬ 
 ways have been unoccupied heretofore, and though 
 the travellers have been made in time past to walk 
 through by-paths, it must not be so now 1 rdi 
 risen. Now ‘ I am risen a mother in Israel. ’ Ju. v. 6,7. 
 
 Grim. Then he swore by the lions, but it should; 
 and 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. 0 
 
 author in each of the giants who assault the Pilgrims, and aie 
 slain by the conductor and his assistants. Some have sup¬ 
 posed that unbelief is here meant, but Grim or Bloody-man 
 seem not to be apposite names for this inward foe; nor can 
 it be conceived, that unbelief should more violently assault 
 those who are under the care of a valiant conductor, than it 
 had done the solitary pilgrims. I apprehend, therefore, that 
 this giant was intended for the emblem of certain active men 
 who busied themselves in framing and executing persecuting 
 statutes, which was done at the time when this was written, 
 more violently than it had been before. Thus the temptation 
 to fear man, which at all times assaults the believer when 
 required to make an open profession of his faith, was exceed¬ 
 ingly increased; and as heavy fines and severe penalties, iu 
 accession to reproach and contempt, deterred men from joining 
 themselves in communion with dissenting churches, that way 
 was almost unoccupied, and the travellers went through by¬ 
 paths, according to the author’s sentiments on the. subject. 
 But the preaching of the gospel, by which the ministers of 
 Christ wielded the sword of the Spirit, overcame this enemy; 
 for the example and, exhortations of such courageous com¬ 
 batants animated even weak believers to overcome their fears, 
 and to act according to their consciences, leaving the event to 
 God. This seems to have been the author’s meaning; and 
 perhaps he also intended to encourage his brethren boldly to 
 persevere in resisting such persecuting statutes, confidently 
 expecting that they should prevail for the repeal of them; by 
 which, as by the death of the giant, the pilgrims might be 
 freed from additional terror, in acting consistently with their 
 avowed principles.— (Scott.) 
 
 1 This reminds us of the words of Mr. Godly-fear to Dia- 
 bolus, when Captain Credence sent a petition to Immanuel for 
 mercy:—* We are resolved to resist thee as long as a captain, 
 a man, a sling, or a stone shall be found in Mansoul to throw' 
 at thee. Then said the Lord Mayor to Diabolus, O thou 
 devouring tyrant, be it known to thee, we shall hearken to 
 none of thy words!’—(Bunyan’s Holy War.) Happy are the 
 Godly-fears and Great-hearts who use such decided language 
 to the enemy of souls. — (Ed.) 
 
 2 Sincere and earnest Christians, at this time, had a pro¬ 
 verbial expression:—‘ It is better that the body should die to 
 this world by the lions without, than that body and soul 
 should die eternally by our lusts within.’— (Ed.) 
 
 a O pilgrims, when dangers beset you, and fears arise in 
 
 Grim. Then said he that attempted to hack tho 
 lions. Will you slay me upon mine own ground? 
 
 Great-iieart. It is the King’s highway that we 
 are in, and in his way it is that thou A fight betwuct 
 hast placed thy lions; but these women GrimandGreat- 
 and these children, though weak, shall 
 hold on their way in spite of thy lions. And with 
 that he gave him again a downright blow, and 
 brought him upon his knees. With this blow he 
 also broke his helmet, and with the next he cut 
 off an arm. Then did the giant roar so hideously, 
 that his voice frighted the women, and yet they 
 were glad to see him lie sprawling The victory, 
 upon the ground. Now the lions were 
 chained, and so of themselves could do nothing. 4 
 Wherefore, when old Grim, that intended to back 
 them, was dead, Mr. Great-heart said to the Pil¬ 
 grims, Come now, and follow me, and no hurt 
 shall happen to you from the lions. They there¬ 
 fore went on, but the women trembled They pass hy 
 as they passed by them ; the boys tlie hons< 
 also looked as if they would die, but they all got 
 by without further hurt. 5 
 
 Now then they were within sight of the Porter’s 
 Lodge, and they soon came up unto it; but they 
 made the more haste after this to go thither, 
 because it is dangerous travelling there in the 
 night. So when they were come to the gate, the 
 guide knocked, and the Porter cried, They come tf) 
 Who is there? But as soon as the Porter’s 
 
 guide had said, It is I, he knew his 
 voice, and came down (for the guide had oft 
 
 you, hear what the Lord speaks to you; and in the belief of 
 his truth, quit yourselves manfully: ‘ Fight the good fight oi 
 faith,’ ever remembering that * you are more than conquerois 
 through Christ who hath loved you!’ baith will exalt the 
 
 love and power of Christ above the fear of every enemy. 
 
 (Mason.) 
 
 4 0 pilgrim, it is sweet to reflect that every lion-like foe is 
 under the control of thy God, and cannot come one link of 
 the chain nearer to thee than thy Lord will permit! There¬ 
 fore, when fears and terrors beset thee, think of thy Lord s 
 love to thee, his power engages to preserve thee, and his pro¬ 
 mises to comfort thee. For ‘ the Lord is nigh unto all them 
 that call upon him.’ Ps. cxlv. 18.— (Mason.) 
 
 5 From the deeply interesting narrative of the experience 
 of Mr. Fearing, it is plain that the lions and their backer, 
 Giant Grim or Bloody-man, relates entirely to temporal 
 troubles; most likely to those infamous penal statutes under 
 which Dissenters so severely suffered. The uniting in church- 
 fellowship was not only attended with the ordinary difficulties, 
 but with danger from the lions—church and state ; especially 
 when backed by ferocious judges, such as Jefferies and others. 
 Spiritual enemies—sin, death, and hell were the onlyteirors 
 under which Mr. Fearing suffered; temporal persecutions— 
 
 ‘ difficulties, lions, or Vanity Fair—he feared not at all. the 
 battle probably refers to the iiimsy sophistry used in defence 
 of persecution, as opposed to the Word of God, the sword ot 
 the Spirit, by which our Puritan heroes destroyed these anti- 
 Christian arguments.— (Ed.) How that the lions are removei, 
 may we not fear that hypocrites will thrust themselves into 
 our churches ? It is easy, cheap, and almost fashionable, to 
 be religious: this should promote solemn investigation.— 
 (Androuicus.) 
 


 THE PILGRIM'S TIIOGRESS. 
 
 197 
 
 before that, come thither, as a conductor of pil¬ 
 grims). When he was come down, he opened the 
 gate, and seeing the guide standing just before it 
 (for he saw not the women, for they were behind 
 him), he said unto him, How now, Mr. Great-heart, 
 what is your business here so late to-night? I 
 have brought, said he, some pilgrims hither, where, 
 by my Lord’s commandment, they must lodge; I 
 had been here some time ago, had I not been 
 opposed by the giant that did use to back the 
 lions; but I, after a long and tedious combat with 
 him, have cut him off, and have brought the 
 Pil grims hither in safety. 1 
 
 Porter. Will you not go in, and stay till 
 
 Great-heart at- m0rnin S ? 
 
 tempts to go Great-heart. No, I will return to 
 my Lord to-night. 
 
 Ciirist. Oh, Sir, I know not how to be willing 
 
 The Pilgrims J ou sll0lll(i leave us in our pilgrimage, 
 
 implore ° his you have been so faithful and so lov- 
 company still. . . , r , , , .. 
 
 ing 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 to¬ 
 wards us. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, 0 that we might have 
 thy company to our journey’s end! How can such 
 poor women as we hold out in a way so full of 
 troubles as this way is, without a friend and 
 defender? 
 
 James. Then said James, the youngest of the 
 boys, Pray, Sir, he persuaded to go with us, and 
 help us, because we are so weak, and the way so 
 dangerous as it is. 2 
 
 Great-heart. I am at my Lord’s command¬ 
 ment ; if he shall allot me to be your guide quite 
 through, I will willingly wait upon you. But here 
 
 Help lost for J 011 failed at first > for > when he bid 
 want of asking me come thus far with you, then you 
 
 should have begged me of him to have 
 gone quite through with you, and he would have 
 granted your request. However, at present, I 
 must withdraw; and so, good Christiana, Mercy, 
 and my brave children, Adieu. 
 
 Then the Porter, Mr. Watchful, asked Cliris- 
 
 Eirst Part, tiana of her country, and of her kin- 
 p. 106 . dred; and she said, I came from the 
 
 City of Destruction; I am a widow woman, and 
 
 my husband is dead; his name was Christ™,*make, 
 
 Christian, the Pilgrim. How! said herself known 
 
 the Porter, was he your husband? he tells 
 
 Yes, said she, and these are his cliil- tlum9el ‘ 
 
 dren; and this, pointing to Mercy, is one of my‘ 
 
 townswomen. Then the Torter rang his bell, as 
 
 at such times he is wont, and there came to the 
 
 door one of the damsels, whose name was Ilumble- 
 
 mind; and to her the Porter said, Go tell it within, 
 
 that Christiana, the wife of Christian, and her 
 
 children, are come hither on pilgrim- , 
 
 . . 1 ® Joy at the noise 
 
 age. felie went in, therefore, and told of the Pilgrims 
 
 it. But 0 what noise for gladness comms * 
 
 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, 1 
 come in, thou wife of that good man; come in, 
 thou blessed woman ; come in, with all that are 
 with thee. So she went in, and they followed her 
 that were her children and her companions. Now 
 when they were gone in, they xvere had into a very 
 large room, where they were bidden to sit down ; 
 so they sat down, and the chief of the house was 
 called to see and welcome the guests. Then they 
 came in, and understanding who they Christians’ love 
 were, did salute each other with a IL^sfght of 
 kiss, and said, Welcome, ye vessels of one another, 
 the grace of God; welcome to us your friends. 3 
 
 Now, because it was somewhat late, and be¬ 
 cause the Pilgrims were weary with their journey, 
 and also made faint with the sight of the fio-ht. 
 and of the terrible lions, therefore they desired, as 
 soon as might be, to prepare to go to rest. Nay, 
 said those of the family, refresh yourselves first 
 with a morsel of meat; for they had prepared for 
 them a lamb, with the accustomed sauce belong¬ 
 ing thereto, 4 Ex. xii. 21, 28. Jn. i. 29 ; for the Porter 
 had heard before of their coming, and had told it 
 to them within. So when they had supped, and 
 ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they 
 might go to rest. But let us, said Christiana, if 
 we may be so bold as to choose, be in p irst Part> 
 that chamber that was my husband’s P- lu0 - 
 
 1 How mindful is our Lord of us! How gracious is lie to 
 us! What blessed provision doth he make for us! If pil¬ 
 grims are attacked by Giant Grim, and terrified with the 
 sight of lions, they may be sure that it is only a prelude to 
 some sweet enjoyment of their Lord’s love, and that they are 
 near to some asylum, some sanctuary of rest, peace, and com¬ 
 fort. Some bitter generally precedes the sweet, and makes the 
 sweet the sweeter.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 0 it is hard work to part with Great-heart! How manv 
 blessings do we lose for want of asking! Great-heart is at 
 the command of our Lord. O for more power to cry inces¬ 
 santly to the Lord for the presence of Great-heart, that we 
 may go on more cheerfully and more joyfully in the wavs of 
 the Lord!—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Here is a blessed mark of being vessels of the grace of 
 God, when we delight in the sight of, salute, and welcome 
 others in the w r ay to Zion, and mutually have our hearts and 
 affections drawn out to each other in love. O how sweet is 
 the fellowship of pilgrims below 1 What must it be above ? 
 Infinitely above conception.—(Masou.) 
 
 4 Reader, can you feed upon Christ by faith ? Is the Lamb 
 the nourishment of thy soul, and the portion of thy heart ? 
 Canst thou say, from blessed experience, ‘llis flesh is meat 
 indeed, and his blood is drink indeed ?’ Is it thy delight to 
 think of him, hear of him, speak of him, abide in him, and 
 live upon him ? O bless him and praise him for his distin¬ 
 guishing mercy, this spiritual appetite 1 It is peculiar to his 
 beloved ones only.—(Mason.) 
 
19S 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 
 Music. 
 
 when he was here; so they had them up thither, 
 and they lay all in a room. When they were at 
 M .,, , rest, Christiana and Mercy entered 
 
 Christ s oosom 7 *■ 
 
 is for all pil- into discourse about things that were 
 gruns. 1 . . 
 
 convenient. 
 
 Christ. Little did I think once, that when my 
 husband went on pilgrimage, I should ever have 
 followed. 
 
 Mercy. And you as little thought of lying in his 
 bed, and in his chamber to rest, as you do now. 
 
 Christ. And much less did I ever think of see¬ 
 ing 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 ? 
 
 Christ. Yes; it is, as I believe, a noise of music, 
 for joy that we are here. 2 
 
 Mercy. Wonderful! music in the house, music 
 in the heart, and music also in heaven, 
 for joy that we are here ! 3 
 
 Thus they talked a while, and then betook them¬ 
 selves to sleep. So, in the morning, when they 
 were awake, Christiana said to Mercy: 
 
 Christ. What was the matter that you did 
 
 Mercy did laugh ^Ugh ill yOUl* sleep tO-nigllt ? I sup- 
 ill her sleep. pose you was in a dream. 
 
 Mercy. So I was, and a sweet dream it was; 
 but are you sure I laughed ? 
 
 Christ. Yes; you laughed heartily; hut, prithee, 
 Mercy, tell me thy dream. 
 
 Mercy. I was a-dreamed that I sat all alone in 
 
 a solitary place, and was bemoaning of 
 Mercy s dream. ^ R arc [ liess 0 f my heart. Now, I 
 
 had not sat there long, hut methought many were 
 gathered about me, to see me, and to hear what 
 it was that I said. So they hearkened, and 1 went 
 on bemoaning the hardness of my heart. At this, 
 some of them laughed at me, some called me fool, 
 and some began to thrust me about. With that, 
 
 What her methought I looked up, and saw one 
 
 dream was. coming with wings towards me. So 
 he came directly to me, and said, Mercy, what 
 ailetli thee ? Now, when he had heard me make 
 
 1 Pray mind the above note, ‘Christ’s bosom is for all 
 pilgrims.’ [This is the room in which they all lay, and its 
 name is Peace. —Ed.] It is there the weary find rest, and 
 the burdened soul ease. 0 for more reclinings of soul upon 
 the precious bosom of our Lord ! We can be truly happy no¬ 
 where else.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 Immanuel also made a feast for them. He feasted them 
 with food that grew not in the fields of Mansoul, nor in the 
 whole kingdom of the Universe. It came from the Lather’s 
 court. There was music also all the while at the table, and 
 man did eat angels’ food. I must not forget to tell you, that 
 the musicians were the masters of the songs sung at the court 
 of Shaddai.—(Bunyan’s Holy War) 
 
 3 O what precious harmony is this 1 How joyful to be the 
 subjects of it, and to join in it 1 The free, sovereign grace of 
 God is the delightful theme, and glory to God in the highest 
 the universal chorus. It is the wonder and joy of sinners on 
 earth, and of angels in heaven.— (Mason.) 
 
 my complaint, he said ‘ Peace he to thee.’ lie 
 also wiped mine eyes with his handkerchief, 
 and clad me in silver and gold. He put a chain 
 about my neck, and ear-rings in mine ears, and a 
 beautiful crown upon my head. Eze. xvi. 8 -n. 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. 4 
 But did I laugh ? 
 
 Christ. Laugh ! ave, 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 first part true, 
 so you shall find the second at last. ‘ God speaketh 
 once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a 
 dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep 
 falleth upon men, in slumberings upon the bed.’ 5 6 7 Job 
 xxxiii. 14 , is. 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 ofttimes 
 wakes when we sleep ; and God can speak to that, 
 either by words, by proverbs, by signs and simili¬ 
 tudes, as well as if one was awake. 3 
 
 Mercy. Well, I am glad of my dream; for I 
 hope, ere long, to see it fulfilled, to Mercy glad of 
 the making me laugh again. 7 her dream - 
 
 Christ. I think it is now high time to rise, and 
 to know what we must do. 
 
 Mercy. Pray, if they invite us to stay awhile, 
 let us willingly accept of the proffer. I am the 
 
 4 Our author intimates that God sometimes communicates 
 spiritual knowledge and heavenly joy by ‘ dreams and visions 
 of the night.’ The Holy One ‘ worketh all things after the 
 counsel of his own will,’ and employs what means he pleases 
 to bring into captivity every thought to the obedience of 
 Christ. The effect produced by dreams must be brought to 
 this test. It is a good maxim, that what leads to God, must 
 have come from God.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 5 If Mercy was sweetly surprised with this dream, we are 
 sure that nothing hut the surprise of mercy can overcome the 
 hardened sinner’s heart, who, expecting the stroke ot justice, 
 instead of the executioner with a death-warrant, finds a mes¬ 
 senger of peace, with a pardon free and full, revealing the 
 grace, mercy, and love of God, through the redemption which 
 there is in the love of God.—(J. B.) 
 
 6 O how blessed are they who are watching and waiting 
 continually to hear the small, still voice of the Spirit, speaking 
 rest and peace to their souls by the blood of the Lamb! U 
 how condescending is our Lord, thus to visit us, aud converse 
 with us in the way to his kingdom!—(Mason.) And how 
 blessed is church fellowship when the members are governed 
 by these heavenly principles, watchfulness, humility of mind, 
 prudence, piety, and charity.— (Ed.) 
 
 7 The assurance that the dream should be accomplished, is 
 grounded on the effects produced upon Mercy s heart; there 
 is no danger of delusion, when so scriptural an eucouragemeut 
 is inferred even from a dream.—(Scott.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 199. 
 
 willinger to stay awhile here, to grow better ac¬ 
 quainted with these maids. Methinks Prudence, 
 Piety, and Charity have very comely and sober 
 countenances. 1 
 
 Christ. 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 night’s lodging that ever I had in my 
 life. 
 
 Then said Prudence and Piety, If you will be 
 They stay here persuaded to stay here awhile, you 
 
 some time. shall have what the house will afford. 
 
 Ciiar. Aye, and that with a very good will, said 
 Charity. So they consented and staid there about 
 a month, or above, and became very profitable one 
 rrudence de- to another. And because Prudence 
 chise Christi- would see how Christiana had brought 
 ana’s children. U p ] ier cliildren, she asked leave of 
 
 her to catechise them. So she gave her free con¬ 
 sent. 2 Then she began at the youngest, whose 
 name was James. 
 
 James Prudence. And she said, Come, James, 
 catechised. cails t ti 10u t e R me w ] 10 made thee ? 
 
 James. God the Father, God the Son, and God 
 the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell me who 
 saves thee ? 
 
 James. God the Father, God the Son, and God 
 the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Prud. Good boy still. But how doth God the 
 Father save thee ? 
 
 James. By his grace. 
 
 Prud. How doth God the Son save thee ? 
 
 James. By his righteousness, death, and blood, 
 and life. 
 
 Prud. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save 
 thee ? 
 
 James. By his illumination, by his renovation, 
 and by his preservation. 3 
 
 Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to 
 be commended for thus bringing up your children. 
 
 I suppose I need not ask the rest these questions, 
 since the youngest of them can answer them so 
 
 1 Can we wonder that the pilgrims longed to spend some 
 time with such lovely companions? Reader, how is your in¬ 
 clination? Add to these ‘Simplicity, Innocence, and Godly-sin¬ 
 cerity; without which three graces thou wilt be a hypocrite, 
 let thy notions, thy knowledge, thy profession, and commen¬ 
 dations from others, be what they will.’— (Holy Life , vol. ii. 
 p. 539.) Christian, in choosing thy companions, specially 
 cleave to these six virgins, for they not only have very comely 
 and sober countenances, hut Christ dwells with them.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 W hen Christiana was admitted into the church, care was 
 taken to inquire into the religious knowledge of her children. 
 This is an important branch of ministerial and parental duty. 
 The answers given by the children do their mother honour, 
 and prove that she had not laboured in vain. Let every 
 pious parent imitate her example, and hope for her success.— 
 (Burdcr.) 
 
 well. I will therefore now apply myself to tho 
 next youngest. 
 
 Trud. Then she said, Come, Joseph (for his 
 name was Joseph), will you let me Joseph 
 catechise you ? catechised 
 
 J oseph. With all my heart. 
 
 Prud. What is man ? 
 
 JosErH. 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 beiim saved by 
 the Trinity? 
 
 J osepii. 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 ? 
 
 J osepii. The glorifying of his name, of his grace, 
 and justice, &c., and the everlasting happiness of 
 his creature. 
 
 Prud. Who are they that must be saved ? 
 
 JosErn. Those that accept of his salvation. 4 
 
 Prud. Good boy, Joseph; thy mother has taught 
 thee well, and thou hast hearkened to what she 
 hath said unto thee. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Samuel, who was the 
 eldest but one, 
 
 Prud. Come, Samuel, are you will- Samuel 
 ing that I should catechise you also ? catechised. 
 
 Samuel. Yes, forsooth, if you please. 
 
 Prud. What is heaven ? 
 
 Sam. A place and state most blessed, because 
 God dwelleth there. 
 
 Prud. What is hell ? 
 
 Sam. A place and state most woeful, because it 
 is the dwelling-place of sin, the devil, and death. 
 
 Prud. Why wouhlest thou go to heaven ? 
 
 Sam. That I may see God, and serve him with¬ 
 out weariness; that I may see Christ, and love 
 him everlastingly; that I may have that fulness 
 of the Holy Spirit in me that I can by no means 
 here enjoy. 
 
 3 This is a very sensible mode of catechising the boys 
 according to their ages and acquwements, with questions, 
 exciting their attention to subjects of the gravest importance. 
 Compare this with the custom of asking a child its name, and 
 requiring it to narrate circumstances which took place in the 
 time of unconscious babyhood; instead of impressing upon it 
 the existence of God and the solemn realities of eternity. The 
 Assembly’s, Dr. Watts’, and especially Bunyan’s catechisms, 
 are admirably adapted to assist a parent in these important 
 and responsible exercises.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 The young pupil is not here taught to answer, all the elect, 
 but practically ‘ those that accept of his salvation.’ This is 
 perfectly consistent with the other, while it instructs anil 
 encourages the learner without perplexing him. It is absurd 
 to teach the hardest lessons to the youngest scholars in the 
 school of Chriat.—(Scott) 
 
200 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Prud. A very good boy also, and one tliat lias 
 learned well. 
 
 Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose 
 
 Matthew name was Matthew; and she said to 
 
 catechised. him, Come, Matthew, shall I also 
 
 catechise you? 
 
 Matthew. With a very good will. 
 
 Piiud. I ask, then, if there was ever anything 
 that had a being antecedent to, or before God ? 
 
 Matt. No ; for God is eternal; nor is there 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 Lible ? 
 
 Matt. It is the holy Word of God. 
 
 Prud. Is there nothing written therein but what 
 you understand ? 
 
 Matt. Yes. A great deal. 
 
 Prud. What do you do when you meet "with 
 such places therein that you do not understand ? 
 
 Matt. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also 
 that he will please to let me know all therein that 
 he knows will be for my good. 1 
 
 Prud. How believe you, as touching the resur¬ 
 rection of the dead ? 
 
 Matt. I believe they shall rise, the same that 
 was buried; the same in nature, though not in 
 corruption. And I believe this upon a double 
 account: First, because God has promised it; 
 secondly, because he is able to perform it. w 
 
 Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still 
 Prudence’s con- hearken to your mother, foi she can 
 
 fEateebSg leani y ou more * Y ° U mUSt dlll “ 
 
 of the boys. gently give ear to what good 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 medita¬ 
 tion 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 ques¬ 
 tions that tend to godly edifying. 
 
 Now, by that these Pilgrims had been at this 
 
 Mercy lias a place a week, Mercy had a visitor that 
 
 sweetheart, pretended some goodwill unto her, and 
 
 1 Though this is answered with the simplicity of a child; 
 yet it is, and ever will he, the language of every father in 
 Christ. Happy those whose spirits are cast into this humble, 
 evangelical mould! O that this Spirit may accompany us in 
 all our researches, in all our w r ays, and through all our days! 
 (Mason.) Our inability to discover the meaning of these 
 passages should teach us humility, and submission to the 
 decisions of our infallible instructor. (Scott,) 
 
 2 Here is the foundation of faith, and the triumph of hope, 
 God’s faithfulness to his promise, and his power to perlorm. 
 
 Having these to look to, what should stagger our faith, ox 
 
 deject our hope? We may, we ought to smile at all carnal 
 
 objections, and trample upon all corrupt reasonings.—(Mason.) 
 
 his name was Mr. Brisk, a man of some bleed¬ 
 ing, 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 M^ercy was ot a fail countenance, 
 and therefore the more alluring. 
 
 Her mind also was, to be always busying of 
 herself in doing; for when she had Mercy . stemper . 
 nothing to do for herself, she would 
 be making of hose and garments for others, and 
 would bestow them upon them that had need.' 1 * * 
 And Mr. Brisk, not knowing where or how she 
 disposed of what she made, seemed to be greatly 
 taken, for that he found her never idle. . I will 
 warrant her a good housewife, quoth he to himself. 
 
 Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens 
 
 that were of the house, and inquired Mercy inquires 
 
 . . n ,-I -t • i of the maids 
 
 of them concerning him, tor they enu concerningMr. 
 
 know him better than she. 5 So they Blisk - 
 
 told her, that he was a very busy young man, and 
 
 one that pretended to religion; but was, as they 
 
 feared, a stranger to the power of that which was 
 
 ^ vl • 
 
 Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on 
 him; for I purpose never to have a clog to my 
 soul. G 
 
 Prudence then replied that there needed no 
 great matter of discouragement to be given to him, 
 her continuing so as she had begun to do for the 
 poor, would quickly cool his courage. 
 
 So the next time he comes, he finds her at her 
 old work, a-making of things for tne Talk betwixt 
 poor. Then said he, What! always Mercy and Mr. 
 at it ? Yes, said she, either for my¬ 
 self or for others. And what canst thou earn 
 a day ? quoth he. I do these things, said she, 
 ‘ that I may be rich in good works, laying up in 
 
 s This is au important lesson to young females, how they 
 mav profitably employ their time, adorn the gospel, and be 
 useful It is much better to imitate Dorcas, in making 
 garments for the poor, than to waste time and money in 
 frivolous amusements, or needless decorations; or in moie 
 elegant and fashionable accomplishments.—(Scott.) 
 
 * The character of Mr. Brisk is portrayed to the life m 
 
 unyan’s Emblems — 
 
 ‘ Candles that do blink within the socket, 
 
 And saints whose eyes are always m their pocket, 
 
 Are much alike: such candles make us fumble; # 
 
 And at such saints, good men and bad do stumble. 
 
 3 The character of Mercy is lovely throughout the pUgnm- 
 >e- but in the important choice of a partner for life, she 
 manifests great prudence aud shrewdness; she asks the advice 
 ' those who knew Mr. Brisk, and whose names proved how 
 ipable they were to give it. And she acted upon their know, 
 dge of his character. And when she discovered the utter 
 dfishuess of his disposition, she thanktully bid him, Good bye, 
 
 ,veet heart; and parts for life.— (Ed.) . 
 
 Most blessed resolution! Ah, pilgrims, if ye were more 
 ■arv lest by your choice and conduct, ye brought clogs to 
 our * souls, how many troubles would ye escape, and ow 
 mch more happy would you be in your pilgrimage! It is 
 )r want of this wisdom aud conduct, that many bring evil 
 pon themselves.—Mason. 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 201 
 
 Ftore a good foundation against tlie time to come, 
 that I may lay hold on eternal life.’ 1 Ti. vi. 17 - 19 . 
 Why, prithee, what dost thou with them ? said lie. 
 Clothe the naked, said she. With that his coun- 
 iic forsakes her, tenance fell. So he forbore to come 
 ami why. at ] ier a g a | n . an( l w hen he was asked 
 
 the reason why, he said, that Mercy was a pretty 
 lass, but troubled with ill conditions. 1 
 
 When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I not 
 tell thee, that Mr. Brisk would soon 
 tice y of^mercy forsake thee ? yea, he will raise up an 
 Mercy* 1 In'' tile ^ report of thee; for, notwithstand- 
 ishked? Mercy in £ ^is pretence to religion, and his 
 seeming love to Mercy, yet Mercy 
 and he are of tempers so different, that I believe 
 they will never come together. 
 
 Mercy. I might have had husbands afore now, 
 though I spake not of it to any; but they were 
 such as did not like my conditions, though never 
 did any of them find fault with my person. So 
 they and I could not agree. 
 
 Prud. Mercy in our day's 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 
 Mercy’s me, I will die a maid, or my conditions 
 resolution. shall he 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 
 How Mercy’s Bountiful, that was married to one of 
 served by her these churls; but he and she could 
 husband. never agree; but because my sister 
 
 was resolved to do as she had begun, that is, to 
 show kindness to the poor, therefore her husband 
 first cried her down at the cross, and then turned 
 her out of his doors. 2 
 
 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 Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell 
 Matthew sick, and his sickness was sore upon 
 falls sick, him, for he was much pained in his 
 
 1 How easily are the best of characters traduced, and false 
 constructions put upon the best of actions! Reader, is this 
 your lot also? Mind your duty. Look to your Lord. Per¬ 
 severe in his works and ways; and leave your character witli 
 him, to whom you can trust your soul. * For if God be for 
 us, who shall be against us? what shall harm us, if we he 
 followers of that which is good?’—(Mason.) 
 
 2 Crying at the cross, and turning a wife out of doors, 
 refers to a vulgar error, which had its influence to a late 
 period in Bedfordshire. It was a speedy mode of divorce, 
 similar to that practised in London, by leading a wife by a 
 halter to Smithfield, and selling her. The crying at the 
 market cross that a man would not be answerable for the 
 debts that might be incurred by his wife, was the mode of 
 advertising, which was supposed to absolve a husband from 
 
 maintaining his wife; a notion now fully exploded.— (Ed.) 
 
 YOL. III. 
 
 bowels, so that he was with it, at times, pulled as 
 it ivere both ends together. 3 There dwelt also not 
 far from thence, one Mr. Skill, an ancient and 
 well approved physician. So Christiana desired it, 
 and they sent for him, and he came. When he 
 was entered the room, and had a little Gripe* of con- 
 observed the bov, he concluded that science. 
 Jie was sick of the gripes. Then he said to his 
 mother, What diet has Matthew of late fed upon? 
 Diet, said Christiana, nothing but that which is 
 wholesome. The physician answered, This boy 
 has been tampering with something The physician’s 
 that lies in his maw undigested, and judgment, 
 that will not away without means. And I tell 
 you, he must be purged, or else he will die. 
 
 Sam. Then said Samuel, Mother, mother, what 
 was that which my brother did gather Samuel puts his 
 
 up and eat, so soon as we were come of°the^fruit'his 
 from the gate that is at the head of brother did eat. 
 
 this way? You know that there was an orchard 
 on the left hand, on the other side of the wall, and 
 some of the trees hung over the wall, and my 
 brother did plash and did eat. 
 
 Christ. 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. 4 
 
 Skill. I knew he had eaten something that was 
 not wholesome food; and that food, to wit, that 
 fruit, is even the most hurtful of all. It is the 
 fruit of Beelzebub’s orchard. I do marvel that 
 none did warn you of it; many have died thereof. 
 
 Christ. Then Christiana began to cry; and she 
 said, 0 naughty boy! and 0 careless mother! 
 What shall 1 do for my son! a 
 
 Skill. Come, do not be too much dejected; the 
 boy may do well again, but he must purge and 
 vomit. 
 
 3 See the effects of sin. It will pinch, and gripe the con¬ 
 science, and make the heart of a gracious soul sick.—(Mason.) 
 Matthew, in being admitted a member of the church, repre¬ 
 sented by the house Beautiful and its happy family, had to 
 relate his experience, and this brought to his recollection 
 plashing the trees, and eating the enemy’s fruit, of which his 
 brother also reminds them.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 How often do we suffer by neglecting the cautions of a 
 pious parent or friend. ‘ In time of temptation it is our duty 
 to keep close to the word, then we have Satan at the end of 
 the staff. When Eve was tempted, she went to the outside of 
 her liberty, and sat herself on the brink of danger, when she 
 said, we may eat of all but one.’—(Bunyan on Genesis, vol. ii. 
 p. 429.) Christiana had chided the boys: * You transgress, for 
 that fruit is none of ours.’ Still the boys went on, and now 
 Matthew feels the bitterness of repentance.— (Ed.) 
 
 5 Although the mother did warn and chide her son, yet she 
 did not use her authority to prevent his taking the fruit 
 which belonged to another. She takes the fault home, falls 
 under the sense of it, and is grieved for it. A tender con¬ 
 science is a blessed sign of a gracious heart. Ye parents, who 
 know the love of Christ, watch over your children; see to it, 
 lest you smart for your sins, in not warning and preventing 
 them, that * the fear of the Lord is to depart from all evil;’ 
 yea, to abstain from the very appearance of it.—(Mason, 
 altered by Ed.) 
 
 20 
 
202 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 CnRiST. Pray, Sir, try the utmost of your shill 
 with him, whatever it costs. 
 
 Skill. Nay, I hope I shall he reasonable. So 
 „ , he made him a puro;e, but it was too 
 
 Fotion prepared. . , r 
 
 weak ; it was said, it was made of the 
 
 blood of a goat, the ashes of a heifer, and with 
 some of the juice of hyssop, &c. He. x. 1-4. When 
 Mr. Skill had seen that that purge was too weak, 
 he made him one to the purpose; it was made ex 
 The Latin I came et sanguine Christi . 1 Jn. vi. 54-57. 
 borrow. He ix 14< (You know physicians give 
 
 strange medicines to their patients.) And it was 
 made up into pills, with a promise or two, and a 
 proportionable quantity of salt. Mar. ix. 49. Now he 
 was to take them three at a time fasting, in half a 
 quarter of a pint of the tears of repentance. When 
 this potion was prepared, and brought to the boy, 
 . , .. he was loath to take it, though torn 
 
 to take the with the gripes, as if he should be 
 pll}Slc ' pulled in pieces. Come, come, said 
 the physician, you must take it. It goes against 
 my stomach, said the boy. Zee. xii. 10. I must have 
 you take it, said his mother. I shall vomit it up 
 again, said the boy. Pray, Sir, said Christiana 
 to Mr. Skill, how does it taste? It has no ill 
 taste, said the doctor ; and with that she touched 
 
 The mother one pills with the tip of her 
 
 tastes it, and tongue. Oh, Matthew, said she, this 
 persuades him. ... . ,, . T i> ,1 
 
 potion is sweeter than honey. It 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 
 
 A word Of God r j d him of U!s S ri P es - 2 So in little 
 in the hand of time he got up, and walked about 
 
 with a staff, and would go from room 
 to room, and talk with Prudence, Piety, and 
 Charity, of his distemper, and how he was healed. 3 
 
 1 Mr. Bunyan’s great modesty and humility are truly ad¬ 
 mirable ; he quotes Latin, but is careful to tell us, ‘ The Latin 
 I borrow.’ The English is, ‘ Of the flesh and of the blood of 
 Christ.’ This is the only portion for sin-sick souls. Feeding 
 upon Christ’s flesh and blood by faith, keeps us from sinning, 
 and when sick of sin, these, and nothing but these, can heal 
 and restore us. Yet there is in our nature an unaccountable 
 reluctance to receive these, through the unbelief which works 
 in us 1 So Matthew found it.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 See the blessed effects of receiving Christ, when under 
 the sense of sin, and distressed for sin. 0 what a precious 
 Saviour is Jesus! What efficacy is there in his flesh and 
 blood, to purge the conscience from guilt! Lord, what a 
 mercy is it, that though we sin, yet thou art abundant to 
 pardon, yea, multipliest thy pardons; yea, and also giveth 
 poor, pained, broken-hearted sinners to know and feel thy 
 pardoning love!—(Mason.) 
 
 3 How correctly are the effects of an indulgence in sinful 
 lusts described. Sin and sorrow are inseparable. The bur¬ 
 
 dened conscience of a backslider can be relieved in no other 
 
 way, than that in which it was first ‘ purged from dead works,’ 
 
 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. He. xiii. 11-1 6 . 
 
 Christ. But, Sir, said she, what is this pill 
 good for else? 
 
 Skill. It is an universal pill; it is good against 
 all the diseases that Pilgrims are in- T] . g gn 
 cident to ; and when it is well pre- universal re¬ 
 pared, it will keep good, time out of medy ’ 
 mind. 
 
 Christ. Pray, Sir, make me up twelve boxes 
 of them; for if I can get these, I will never take 
 other physic. 4 
 
 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 physic as he should, it will make him live for 
 ever. Jn. vi. 50. But, good Christiana, thou must 
 give these pills no other way but as T 
 
 , o 17 . - In a glass of 
 
 I have prescribed ; lor, it you do, they the tears of 
 
 will do no good. 5 So he gave unto re P entauce * 
 
 Christiana physic for herself, and her boys, and 
 
 for Mercy; and bid Matthew take heed how he 
 
 eat any more green plums, and kissed them, and 
 
 went his way. 
 
 It was told you before, that Prudence bid the 
 boys, that if at any time they would, they should 
 ask her some questions that might be profitable, 
 and she would say something to them. 
 
 Matt. Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked 
 her, Why, for the most part, physic 
 should be bitter to our palates ? 
 
 Prud. To show how unwelcome the Word of 
 God, and the effects thereof, are to a carnal heart. 
 
 Matt. Why does physic, if it does of the effects of 
 good, purge, and cause that we vomit ? physic. 
 
 Of physic. 
 
 by exercising faith in the atoning blood of the Lord Jesus as 
 the only sacrifice for sin, * If a man be overtaken in a fault, 
 ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of 
 meekness.’ Ga. vi. 1. ‘ Flee youthful lusts,’ and be upon 
 
 yonr guard against the fruit of Beelzebub’s orchard.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 4 The relation of Matthew’s sickness, and the method of 
 his cure, may be justly esteemed among the finest passages of 
 this work. He ate the fruit of Beelzebub’s orchard, sin, the 
 disease of the soul, threatening eternal death. It is an un¬ 
 speakable mercy to be exceedingly pained with it. Such need 
 the physician, and the remedy is at hand. 
 
 Nothing but thy blood, 0 Jesus 1 
 Can relieve us from onr smart; 
 
 Nothing else from guilt release us 
 Nothing else can melt the heart.—(Hart.) 
 
 It is the universal medicine; blessed are those that will never 
 take any other physic.—(Burder.) 
 
 6 This advice should be carefully noted. Numbers abuse 
 the doctrine of free salvation by the merits and redemption 
 of Christ, and presume on forgiveness, when they are destitute 
 of genuine repentance, and give no evidence of sanctification. 
 But this most efficacious medicine in that case will do no 
 good; or rather, the perverse abuse of it will increase their 
 guilt, and tend to harden their hearts in sin.—(Scott.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 203 
 
 Prud. To show 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. * 1 
 
 Matt. What should we learn hy seeing the flame 
 Of fire, and of of our fire go upwards ? and by seeing 
 
 the sun. tbc L eams ail d sweet influences of the 
 sun strike downwards ? 
 
 Trud. By the going up of the fire we are taught 
 to ascend to heaven, by fervent and hot desires. 
 And by the sun’s sending his heat, beams, and 
 sweet influences downwards, we are taught that 
 the Saviour of the world, though high, reacheth 
 down with his grace and love to us below. 
 
 .. . , , Matt. Where have the clouds their 
 
 Of the clouds. , 0 
 
 water f 
 
 Prud. Out of the sea. 
 
 Matt. What may we learn from that ? 
 
 Prud. That ministers should fetch their doctrine 
 from God. 
 
 Matt. Why do they empty themselves upon the 
 earth ? 
 
 • _ 
 
 Prud. To show that ministers should give out 
 what they know of God to the world. 
 
 . , Matt. Why is the rainbow caused 
 by the sun { 
 
 Prud. To show that the covenant of God’s grace 
 is confirmed to us in Christ. 
 
 Of the springs. 
 
 Matt. W hy do the springs come from the sea 
 to us, through the earth ? 
 
 Prud. To show that the grace of God comes to 
 us through the body of Christ. 
 
 Matt. Why do some of the springs 
 rise out of the tops of high hills ? 
 
 Prud. To show that the spirit of grace shall 
 spring up in some that are great and mighty, as 
 well as in many that are poor and low. 
 
 Matt. W 7 hy doth the fire fasten 
 upon the candlewick ? 
 
 Prud. To show, that unless grace doth kindle 
 upon the heart there will be no true light of life 
 in us. 
 
 Of the candle. 
 
 Matt. W T hy is the wick and tallow, and all, 
 spent to maintain the light of the candle ? 
 
 Prud. To show that bodv 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. 
 
 1 Runyan’s bill of bis Master’s water of life:—‘As men, 
 in their bills, do give an account of the persons cured, and the 
 diseases removed, so could I give you account of numberless 
 numbers that have not only been made to live, but to live for 
 ever, by drinking this pure water of life. No disease comes 
 amiss to it. It cures blindness, deafness, dumbness, deadness. 
 
 1 his right holy water (all other is counterfeit) will drive away 
 
 evil spirits. It will make you have a white soul, and that is 
 
 better than a white skin.’—(Bunyan’s Water of Life.) Who¬ 
 
 ever ofters to purify the heart, and heal a wounded conscience, 
 
 by any other means, is a deceiver and a soul-destroyer.—(E d.) 
 
 Matt. Why doth the pelican pierce 
 her own breast with her bill ? Of the pelican. 
 
 Prud. To nourish her young ones with her 
 blood, and thereby to show that Christ the blessed 
 so loveth his young, his people, as to save them 
 from death by his blood. 
 
 Matt. What may one learn by 
 
 hearing the cock crow ? 
 
 Of the cock. 
 
 Prud. Learn to remember Peter’s sin, and 
 Peter’s repentance. The cock’s crowing shows 
 also that day is coming on; let then the crowing 
 of the cock put thee in mind of that last and ter¬ 
 rible day of judgment. 2 
 
 Now, about this time their month was out; 
 wherefore they signified to those of the house that 
 it was convenient for them to up and be going. 
 Then said Joseph to his mother. It is convenient 
 that you forget not to send to the house The weak may 
 
 of Mr. Interpreter, to pray him to th?ttronV'to 
 grant that Mr. Great-heart should be prayers, 
 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, 3 and prayed 
 Mr. Watchful, the Porter, to send it by some fit 
 man, to her good friend Mr. Interpreter; who, 
 when it was come, and he had seen the contents 
 of the petition, said to the messenger, Go tell them 
 that I will send him. 
 
 When the family, where Christiana was, saw 
 that they had a purpose to go forward, T t 
 
 they called the whole house together, be gone on their 
 to give thanks to their King for send- way ‘ 
 ing of them such profitable guests as these. Which 
 done, they said to Christiana, And shall we not 
 show thee something, according as our custom is 
 to do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate 
 when thou art upon the way ? So they took 
 Christiana, her children, and Mercy, into the closet, 
 and showed them one of the apples 
 that Eve did eat of, and that she also E ' cs 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 ? 
 
 A sight of sin is 
 amazing. 
 
 Then Christiana said, It is food or 
 poison, I know not which. 4 * So they opened the 
 
 2 This conversation is adapted for the meditation of a 
 restored backslider. Evangelical truth prescribes the most 
 powerful antidotes to presumption and despair:—‘ My little 
 children, these things write I unto you, that ye sin not. And 
 if any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus 
 Christ the righteous.’ 1 Jn. ii. 1.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 Having experienced the great advantage of a pious 
 minister or elder, they were naturally desirous of having such 
 comfort through their pilgrimage. The petition may refer to 
 the custom, among dissenting churches, of letters of dismis¬ 
 sion given to members when they move to a distant locality. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 4 How much is contained in that answer of Christiana as 
 to the origin of evil—‘It is food or poison, I know not which 1’ 
 To believers, it will be their elevation to a degree of bliss that 
 
204 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 matter to her, and she held up her hands and 
 wondered. 1 Ge. Hi. 6 . no. vii. 24. 
 
 Then they had her to a place, and showed her 
 Jacob’s ladder. Now at that time 
 Jacob a lad ^r. ^ere was some angels ascending upon 
 
 it. So Christiana looked, and looked, to see the 
 angels go up; and so did the rest of the company. 
 Then they were going into another place, to show 
 them something else ; but James said to his mother, 
 a. sight Of Christ Pray, bid them stay here a lit tle longer, 
 is taking. f or this is a curious sight. 2 So they 
 turned again, and stood feeding their eyes with 
 this so pleasant a prospect. Ge. xxviii. 12. Jn. i. 51. 
 After this, they had them into a place where did 
 hang up a golden anchor, so they bid 
 Golden anchor. take it down; for, said 
 
 they, you shall have it with you, for it is of abso¬ 
 lute necessity that you should, that you may lay 
 hold of that within the veil, and stand steadfast, 
 in case you should meet with turbulent weather; 
 so they were glad thereof. 3 He. vi. 19. Then they 
 took them, and had them to the mount upon which 
 ^ ^ Abraham our father had offered up 
 offering up Isaac his son, and showed them the 
 lsaac * altar, the wood, the fire, and the knife, 
 
 for they remain to be seen to this very day. Ge. xxii. 9. 
 When they had seen it, they held up their hands 
 and blessed themselves, and said, 0 what a man 
 for love to his Master, and for denial to himself, 
 was Abraham ! After they had showed them all 
 these things, Prudence took them into the dining- 
 Prudence’s vir- room, where stood a pair of excellent 
 ginais. virginals ; 4 * so she played upon them, 
 
 they would never have otherwise enjoyed; to the faithless, it 
 will be poison of the deadliest kind. Here is no attempt to 
 explain the origin of evil in our world ; a subject far beyond 
 all our powers of investigation.— (Ed.) 
 
 1 It is not enough that the Holy Spirit convince us of sin 
 at our first setting out on pilgrimage, and make us sensible of 
 our want of Christ; but he also keeps up a sight and sense of 
 the evil of sin in its original nature, as well as actual trans¬ 
 gressions. This often makes us wonder at siu, at ourselves, 
 and at the love of Christ in becoming a sacrifice for our sins. 
 And this also humbles us, makes us hate sin the more; and 
 makes Christ, his atonement, and righteousness, more and 
 more precious in our eyes, and inestimable in our hearts.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 2 The ministration of angels is an animating theme to 
 believers, and is well adapted to promote their confidence in 
 the care and protection of God. ‘ Are they not all ministering 
 spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall be heirs of 
 salvation?’ He. i. 14.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 This is the anchor of hope. This keeps the soul safe, and 
 steady to Jesus, who is the alone object of our hopes. Hope 
 springs from faith. It is an expectation of the fulfilment of 
 those tilings that are promised in the Word of truth, by the 
 God of all grace. Faith receives them, trusts in them, relies 
 upon them, and hope waits for the full accomplishment and 
 enjoyment of them.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Bunyan loved harmony—he had a soul for music. But 
 whether he intended by this to sanction the introduction of 
 instrumental music into public worship, is not clear. The 
 late Abraham Booth and Andrew Fuller were extremely averse 
 to it; others are as desirous of it. Music has a great effect 
 
 and turned wbat she bad showed them into this 
 excellent song, saying— 
 
 Eve’s apple we have showed yon, 
 
 Of that be you aware; 
 
 You have seen Jacob’s ladder, too. 
 
 Upon which angels are. 
 
 An anchor you received have; 
 
 But let not these suffice, 
 
 Until, with Abr’am, you have gava 
 
 Your best a sacrifice. 
 
 • 
 
 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, Mr. Great-hea^-t 
 what joy was there! For it came come again, 
 now fresh again into their minds, how but a while 
 ago he had slain old Grim Bloody-man the giant, 
 and had delivered them from the lions. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana, and to 
 Mercy, My Lord hath sent each of He bring9 a tt , 
 you a bottle of wine, and also some ken from his 
 
 J 1 . i i Lord with him. 
 
 parched corn, together with a couple 
 
 of pomegranates; he has also sent the boys some 
 
 figs and raisins, to refresh you in your way. 0 
 
 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 lato 
 
 there had been a great robbery com- RoW , ciy 
 
 mitted on the King’s highway, as you 
 
 go; but, he said, the thieves are taken, and will 
 
 shortly be tried for their lives. 6 Then Christiana 
 
 and Mercy were afraid; but Matthew said, Mother, 
 
 fear nothing, as long as Mr. Great-heart is to go 
 
 with us, and to be our conductor. 
 
 Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I am 
 
 much obliged to you for all the kind- Christilmatetc , 
 
 nesses that you have showed me since her leave of the 
 * Porter. 
 
 I came hither; and also for that you 
 
 have been so loving and kind to my children; 1 
 
 ou the nervous system, and of all instruments the organ is the 
 most impressive. The Christian’s inquiry is, whether sensations 
 so produced assist the soul in holding communion with the Father 
 of spirits, or whether, under our spiritual dispensation, the Holy 
 Ghost makes use of such means to promote intercourse between 
 our spirits and the unseen hierarchies of heaven.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 0 how reviving and refreshing arc those love-tokens from 
 our Lord! Great-heart never comes empty-handed. He 
 always inspires with courage and confidence. Let us look 
 more into, and heartily believe the Word of truth and grace ; 
 
 and cry more to our precious Immanuel, and we shall have 
 
 more of Great-heart’s company. It is but sad travelling with¬ 
 
 out him.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 What this great robbery was, whether spiritual or tem¬ 
 poral, is left to the reader to imagine. The sufferings of the 
 Dissenters were awfully severe at this time. Had it been a year 
 later, we might have guessed it to have referred to the suffer¬ 
 ings of that pious, excellent woman, Elizabeth Gaunt, who was 
 burnt, October 23,1685. She was a Baptist, and cruelly mar¬ 
 tyred. Penn, the Quaker, saw her die. ‘ She laid the straw 
 about her for burning her speedily, and behaved herself in such 
 1 a manner that all the spectators melted in tears.’— (Ed.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 205 
 
 knoAv 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 
 The Porter’s hand, and he made her a low obeis- 
 
 biessmg. ance, and said, Let thy garments be 
 
 always white, and let thy head want no ointment. 1 
 Let Mercy live, and not die, and let not her works 
 be few. And to the boys he said, Do you fly youth¬ 
 ful lusts, and follow after godliness with them that 
 are grave and wise; so shall you put gladness into 
 your mother’s heart, and obtain praise of all that 
 are sober-minded. So they thanked the Porter, 
 and departed. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that they went forward 
 until they were come to the brow of the hill, where 
 Piety, bethinking herself, cried out, Alas! I have 
 forgot what I intended to bestow upon Christiana 
 and her companions; I will go back and fetch it. 
 So she ran and fetched it. While she was gone, 
 Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a little 
 way off, on the right hand, a most curious melo¬ 
 dious note, with words much like these— 
 
 Ihrough all my life thy favour is 
 So frankly show’d to me, 
 
 That in thy house for evermore 
 My dwelling-place shall he. 
 
 And, listening still, she thought she heard an- 
 othe r answer it, saying— 
 
 For why P The Lord our God is good. 
 
 Pis mercy is for ever sure; 
 
 His truth at all times firmly stood, 
 
 And shall from age to age endure. 
 
 So Christiana asked Prudence what it was that 
 made those curious notes ? They are, said she. 
 
 1 Mr. Ivirney is of opinion that hy this Bunyan sanctioned 
 a hireling ministry, hut it appears more to refer to the common 
 custom of rewarding servants to whom you have given trouble. 
 He adduces Lu. x. 7; 1 Ti. v. 18; and 1 Co. ix. 11-14. It 
 is a subject of considerable difficulty; but how is it that no 
 minister ever thinks of referring to the plainest passage upon 
 this subject in the New Testament? It is xx. 17-38, 
 especially ver. 33-35. The angel was a gold coin, in value 
 half a sovereign.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Such mountains round about this house do stand 
 As one from thence may see the Holy Land. 1 
 Her fields are fertile, do abound with corn; 
 
 1 he lilies fair her valleys do adorn. 2 
 The birds that do come hither every spring, 
 
 For birds, they are the very best that sing. 3 
 Her friends, her neighbours too, do call her blest; 4 
 Angels do here go by, turn in, and rest. 5 
 
 The road to paradise lies by her gate, 0 
 Here pilgrims do themselves accommoda'e 
 "With bed and board; and do such stories tell, 
 
 As do for truth aud profit all excel. 
 
 Nor doth the porter here say any nay, 
 
 That hither would turn in, that here would stay. 
 
 This house is rent free; here the man may dwell 
 That loves his landlord, rules his passions well. 
 
 —(Bunyau’s House of Goil, vol. ii. p. 579.) 
 
 1 P<. exxv. 2. 8 Ca. ii. 1. * Ca. ii. 11, 12. 
 
 4 Ps. xlviii. 2. * lie. xiii. 2. 8 Ge. xxviii. 17. 
 
 our country birds; they sing these notes but sel¬ 
 dom, except it be at the spring, when the flowers 
 appear, and the sun shines warm, and then you 
 may hear them all day long. 2 Ca. ii. n, 12. I often, 
 said she, go out to hear them; we also ofttimes 
 keep them tame in our house. They are very fino 
 company for us when we are melancholy; also 
 they make the woods, and groves, and solitary 
 places, places desirous to be in. 3 
 
 By this time Piety was come again; so she said 
 to Christiana, Look here, I have Piety bestow- 
 brought thee a scheme of all those ojf 
 things that thou hast seen at our P artin s- 
 house, upon which thou mayest look when thou 
 findest thyself forgetful, and call those things 
 again to remembrance for thy edification and 
 comfort. 4 
 
 Now they began to go down the hill into the 
 Valley of Humiliation. It was a steep pj rs t p ar t, 
 hill, and the way Avas slippery; but 1U> 
 they were very careful, so they got doAvn pretty 
 well. When they were doAvn in the Valley, 5 Piety 
 said to Christiana, This is the place where Chris¬ 
 tian your husband met Avith the foul fiend Apollyon, 
 and Avhere they had that dreadful fight that they 
 had; I knoAv you cannot but have heard thereof. 
 But be of good courage, as long as you have here 
 Mr. Great-heart to be your guide and conductor, 
 Ave hope you Avill fare the better. So Avhen these 
 tAVO had committed the Pilgrims unto the conduct 
 of their guide, he Avent forward, and they Avent 
 after. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said Mr. Great-heart, We 
 
 s It is sweet melody when we can sing Avith grace in the 
 heart. The joy arising from God’s free grace and pardoning 
 love, is greater than the joy of harvest, or of one Avho rejoices 
 when he divides the spoil.—(J. B.) Those joyful notes spring 
 from a sense of nearness to the Lord, and a firm confidence in 
 his Dmue truth and everlasting mercy. 0 Avhen the Sun of 
 Righteousness shines warmly on the soul, it makes the pil¬ 
 grims sing most sweetly ! These songs approach very nearly 
 to the heavenly music in the realm of glory.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Forgetfulness makes things nothings. It makes us as if 
 things had never been; and so takes away from the soul one 
 great means of stay, support, and encouragement. When 
 David was dejected, the remembrance of the hill Hermon was 
 his stay. When he was to go out against Goliah, the remem¬ 
 brance of the lion and the bear was his support. The recovery 
 of a backslider usually begins at the remembrance of former 
 things.— (Bunyau’s lloly Life , vol. ii. p. 507.) 
 
 5 After being thus highly favoured with sensible comforts, 
 in the Ariews of faith, the comforts of hope, and the joy of 
 love, the next step these pilgrims are to take is down the 
 Hill Difficulty, into the Valley of Humiliation. What doth 
 this place signify ? A deep anu abiding sight and sense of 
 our ruined state, lost condition, and desperate circumstances, 
 as fallen sinners. This is absolutely necessary, lest we should 
 think more highly of ourselves than Ave ought to think. For 
 the Lord oft favours us with manifestations of his love, and the 
 comforts of his Spirit; but, through the corruption of our 
 nature, we are prone to be exalted in ourselves, and, as it 
 w r ere, intoxicated by them. Hence Ave are exhorted ‘to think 
 soberly.’ Ro. xii. 3. ThU the Valley of Humiliation causes 
 us to do.—(Mason.) 
 
206 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 need not to be so afraid of tliis Valley, for here is 
 Mr. Great-heart nothing to hurt us, unless we procure it 
 
 at the Valley of to ourselves. It is true, Christian did 
 Humiliation. < ’ 
 
 First Part, Fere m eet with Apollyon, with whom 
 
 pagein. j ie a ] so ] ia( j a gore combat; but that 
 
 fray was the fruit of those slips that he got in his 
 going down the hill; for they that get slips there, 
 must look for combats here. And hence it is, 
 that this Valley has got so hard a name> For the 
 common people, when they hear that some fright* 
 ful thing has befallen such a one in such a place, 
 are of an opinion, that that place is haunted with 
 some foul fiend, or evil spirit; when, alas! it is 
 for the fruit of their doing, that such things do 
 befall them there. 
 
 This Valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruit- 
 . ful a place, as any the crow flies over; 
 Christian was and 1 am persuaded, if we could hit 
 so he&et here. U p 0n we m ight find somewhere 
 
 hereabouts, something that might give us an account 
 why Christian was so hardly beset in this place. 
 
 Then James said to his mother, Lo, yonder 
 stands a pillar, and it looks as if some- 
 
 A pillar with an 1 
 
 inscription on thing was written thereon ; let us go 
 and see what it is. So they went, 
 and found there written, ‘ Let Christian’s slips, 
 before he came hither, and the battles that he met 
 with in this place, be a warning to those that come 
 after.’ Lo, said their guide, did not I tell you, 
 that there was something hereabouts, that would 
 give intimation of the reason why Christian was so 
 hard beset in this place? Then, turning himself 
 to Christiana, he said, No disparagement to Chris¬ 
 tian, more than to many others, whose hap and 
 lot his was; for it is easier going up, than down 
 this hill, and that can be said but of few hills in 
 rdl these parts of the world. But we will leave 
 the good man, he is at rest, he also had a brave 
 victory over his enemy; let him grant that dwelleth 
 above, that we fare no worse, when we come to be 
 tried, than he. 
 
 But we will come again to this Valley of Ilumi- 
 This Valley a liation. It is the best and most useful 
 brave place. piece of ground in all those parts. It 
 
 1 Thus beautifully does our author describe the grace of 
 humility. 0 that every reader may know its excellence by 
 happy experience!—(Burder.) 
 
 2 These are the rare times; above all, when I can go to 
 
 God as the Publican, sensible of his glorious majesty, sensible 
 
 of my misery, and bear up and affectionately cry, ‘ God be 
 merciful to me a sinner.’ For my part, I find it one of the 
 hardest things I can put my soul upon, when warmly sensible 
 that I am a sinner, to come to God for a share in mercy and 
 
 grace; I cannot but with a thousand tears say, ‘ God he mer¬ 
 
 ciful to me a sinner.’—(Bunyan’s Pharisee and Publican, 
 
 vol. ii. p. 261.) 
 
 8 Though this Valley of Humiliation, or a clear sight and 
 abiding sense of the sinfulness of our nature, and the wicked¬ 
 ness of our hearts, may he very terrifying to pilgrims, after 
 they have been favoured with peace and joy, and comforted by 
 the views of faith and hope, yet it is a very safe place; and 
 
 is fat ground, and, as you see, consistetb much in 
 meadows; and if a man was to come here in the 
 summer-time, as we do now, if he knew not any¬ 
 thing before, thereof, and if he also delighted him¬ 
 self in the sight of his eyes, he might see that 
 that would be delightful to him. Behold how 
 green this Valley is, also how beautified with 
 lilies. 1 Ca. ii. l. I have also known many labouring 
 men that have got good estates in this Valley of 
 Humiliation (‘ for God resisteth the proud, but 
 gives more, more grace unto the humble,’ Ja. iv.6; 
 l Pe. v. 5), for indeed it is a very fruitful Men tMve iu 
 
 soil, and doth bring forth by handfuls. 2 the Valley of 
 „ ’ , “tii i Humiliation. 
 
 Some also have wished, that the next 
 
 way to their Father’s house were here, that they 
 
 mie-ht be troubled no more with either hills or 
 
 mountains to go over; but the way is the way, 
 and there is an end. 3 
 
 Now, as they were going along, and talking, 
 they espied a boy feeding his father’s sheep. The 
 boy was in very mean clothes, but of a very fresh 
 and well-favoured countenance ; and as he sat by 
 himself, he sang. Hark, said Mr. Great-heart, to 
 what the shepherd’s boy saitli. So they hearkened, 
 and he said— 
 
 He that is down needs fear no fall; 
 
 He that is low, no pride; 
 
 lie that is humble, ever shall 
 
 Have God to be his guide. riii. iv. 12,13. 
 
 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. 4 * * * 8 He. xiii. 5. 
 
 Then said the guide, Do you hear him? I will 
 dare to say, that this boy lives a merrier life, and 
 wears more of that herb called heart’s-ease in his 
 bosom, than he that is clad in silk and velvet ;' 
 but we wil^proceed in our discourse. 
 
 though, at first entering into it, and seeing move of themselves 
 than was ever before showed them, they may tear and tremble, 
 yet, after some continuing here, they are more reconciled and 
 contented; for here they find the visits of their Lord, and in 
 the depths of their humility, they behold the heights of his 
 love and the depths of his mercy, and ciy out in joy, Where 
 sin aboundeth, grace superabounds. Though sin abounds m 
 me, the grace of Jesus superabounds towards me. Though I 
 am* emptied of all, yet I have an inexhaustible fulness in Jesus, 
 to supply me with all I want and all I hope. (Mason.) 
 
 4 The humble man is contented; if his estate be low, his 
 heart is lower still. He that is little in his own eyes, will 
 not be much troubled at being little in the eves of others.— 
 (Watson.) Those circumstances that will not disturb a humble 
 man’s sleep, will break a proud man’s heart.—(Matt. Henry.) 
 They that get slips in going down the hill, or would hide his 
 descent by deception, or repine at it, must look for combats 
 
 when in the valley.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 5 Perhaps the shepherd’s boy may refer to the obscure but 
 quiet station of some pastors over small congregations, who 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 207 
 
 Tn tins Valley onr Lord formerly had his country 
 house; he loved much to be here; he 
 the flesh, imd loved also to walk these meadows, for 
 
 fouse C 'in nt Se ^ 1C the air was pleasant. * 1 Be- 
 
 Viiiiev of Hu- sides, here a man shall be free from 
 
 initiation. 
 
 the noise, and from the hurryings of 
 this life. All states are full of noise and con¬ 
 fusion, only the Valley of Humiliation is that 
 empty and solitary place. Here a man shall not 
 be so let and hindered in his contemplation, as in 
 other places he is apt to be. This is a Valley that 
 nobody walks in, but those that love a pilgrim’s 
 life. And though Christian had the hard hap to 
 meet here with Apollyon, and to enter with him a 
 brisk encounter, yet I must tell you, that in former 
 times men have met with angels here, have found 
 pearls here, and have in this place found the words 
 
 of life. 2 Ho. xii. 4 , 5 . 
 
 Did I say, our Lord had here in former days 
 his country-house, and that he loved here to walk ? 
 I will add, in this place, 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 encouragement to go on in their 
 pilgrimage. Mat. xi. 29 . 
 
 Samuel. 3 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 
 
 Forgetful Green. A P°% on > at a P lace yonder, before 
 us, in a narrow passage, just beyond 
 
 Forgetful Green. 4 * * * * And indeed, that place is the 
 
 live almost unknown to their brethren, but are, in a measure 
 useful and very comfortable.— (Scott.) 
 
 1 Our Lord chose retirement, poverty, and an obscure 
 station; remote from bustle, and favourable to devotion; so 
 that his appearance in a public character, and in crowded 
 scenes, for the good of mankind and the glory of the Lather, 
 was a part of his self-denial, in which * he pleased not himself.’ 
 Some are banished into this valley, but the poor in spirit love 
 to walk in it; and though some believers here struggle with 
 distressing temptations, others, in passing through it, enjoy 
 much communion with God.— (Scott.) 
 
 2 Ever remember the words of our Lord, ‘ It is enough for 
 the disciple that he be as his master.’ If your Lord made it 
 his chief delight to be in this Valley of Humiliation, learn 
 from his example to prize this valley. Though yon may meet 
 with an Apollyon or a destroyer here, yet you are safe in the 
 arms and under the power of your all-conquering Lord: ‘For 
 though the Lord is high, yet hath he respect unto the lowly.’ 
 Therefore you may add with David, «Though I walk in the 
 midst of trouble, thou wilt revive me: thou shalt stretch 
 forth thine hand against the wrath of mine enemies, and thy 
 right hand shall save me.’ Ps. cxxxviii. 7. Such are the con¬ 
 fidence, the reasoning, and the pleading of humble souls in the 
 power of faith, which leads them quite out of themselves to 
 their Lord.— (Mason.) 
 
 3 In the first edition this name is printed * Simon;’ it was 
 corrected to Samuel in Runyan’s later editions.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 It is marvellous to see how some men are led captive by 
 
 most dangerous pjace in all these parts. For if 
 at any time the pilgrims meet with any brunt, it 
 is when they forget what favours they have re¬ 
 ceived, and how umvortliy they are of them. 5 * * This 
 is the place also, where others have been hard put 
 to it; but more of the place when we are come to 
 it; for I persuade myself, that to this day there 
 remains either some sign of the battle, or some 
 monument to testify that such a battle there was 
 fought. 
 
 Mercy. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well 
 in this Valley, as I have been anywhere else in all 
 our journey; the place, methinks, suits with my 
 spirit. I love to be in such places Humility a 
 where there is no rattling with coaches, 8 " eec grace, 
 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 
 ILeshbon.’ Ca. vii. 4. 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 filleth the pools. r s . lxxxiv. 6 , 7. This 
 Valley is that from whence also the King will give 
 to his their vineyards, Ho. ii. is; and they that go 
 through it, shall sing, as Christian did, for all he 
 met with Apollyon. 
 
 Great-heart. It is true, said their guide, I 
 have gone through this Valley many 
 a time, and never was better than Al1 e E im<mt 
 when here. 
 
 I have also been a conductor to several pilgrims, 
 and they have confessed the same. ‘ To this man 
 will I look (saith the King), even to him that is 
 
 forgetfulness. Those that some time thought no pains too 
 
 much, no way too far, no hazards too great to run for eternal 
 
 life, become as if they had never thought of such things. 
 
 Should one say to some—Art not thou that man I saw crying 
 out under a sermon, ‘What shall I do to be saved?’ that I 
 heard speak well of the holy Word of God? how askew they 
 will look upon one. Or if they acknowledge that such things 
 were with them once, they do it more like dejected ghosts than 
 as men.—(Bunyan’s Holy Life , vol. ii. p. 507.) 
 
 5 0 pilgrims, attend to this 1 Pride and ingratitude go 
 
 hand in hand. Study, ever study the favours of your Lord; 
 
 how freely they are bestowed upon you, and how utterly un¬ 
 worthy you are of the least of them. Beware of Forgetful 
 
 Green. Many, after going some way on pilgrimage, get into 
 this Green, and continue here; and talk of their own faithful¬ 
 ness to grace received, the merit of their works, and a second 
 justification by their works, &c. Hence it is plain that they 
 are fallen asleep on this Forgetful Green, and talk incoherently, 
 as men do in their sleep; for they forget that they are still 
 sinners—poor, needy, wretched sinners; and that they want 
 the blood of Christ to cleanse them, the righteousness of Christ 
 to justify them, and the Spirit of Christ to keep them humble, 
 and to enable them to live by faith upon the fidness of Christ 
 to sanctify them, as much as they did when they first set out as 
 pilgrims. O it is a most blessed thing to be kept mindful of 
 what we are, and of the Lord’s free grace and unmerited 
 goodness to us!—(Mason.) 
 
208 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembletli at my 
 Word. ’ 1 Is. lxvi. 2. 
 
 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 
 Christian ^and of' your husband’s blood upon these 
 fi-iiti ien some stones to this day; behold, also, how 
 signs of the here an d there are yet to he seen upon 
 battle luuam. ^ pi ace> some of the shivers of Apoll- 
 
 yon’s broken darts; see also, how they did beat 
 the ground with their feet as they fought, to make 
 good their places against each other; how also, 
 with their by-blows, they did split the very stones 
 in pieces. Verily, Christian did here play the 
 man, and showed himself as stout, as could, had he 
 been there, even Hercules himself." When Apoll¬ 
 yon was beat, he made his retreat to the next 
 Valley, that is called, the Valley of the Shadow 
 of Death, unto which we shall come anon. 3 
 
 Lo, yonder also stands a monument, on which 
 A monument of 4S engraven this battle, and Christian’s 
 the battle, victory, to liis fame throughout all 
 ages. So, because it stood just on the wayside 
 before them, they stepped to it, and read the 
 writing, which word for word was this— 
 
 Hard by, here was a battle fought, 
 
 Most strange, and yet most true; 4 
 Christian and Apollyon sought 
 Each other to subdue. 
 
 The man so bravely play’d the man. 
 
 He made the fiend to fly; 
 
 Of which a monument I stand, 
 
 The same to testify. 
 
 When they had passed by this place, they came 
 First Part, upon the borders of the Shadow of 
 p. lib p) ea ph . an d this Valley was longer than 
 
 A monument 
 of Christian's 
 victory. 
 
 the other; a place, also, most strangely haunted 
 
 1 ‘Trembles at God’s "Word,’ so as not to dare pick and 
 choose which doctrines he will receive, and which reject. 
 Would you act thus by God’s holy commandments? Would 
 you choose one and reject another? Are they not all of equal 
 authority ? And are not all his holy doctrines also stamped 
 with the same Divine sanction ? 'Where there is true faith in 
 them, it will make a man tremble to act thus by God’s Word! 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 2 We ought to study the records of the temptations, con¬ 
 flicts, faith, patience, and victories of believers; mark their 
 wounds, by what misconduct they were occasioned, that we 
 may watch and pray lest we fall in like manner. Learn how 
 they repelled the assaults of the tempter, that we may learn to 
 resist him steadfast in the faith. Their triumphs should 
 animate us to keep on the whole armour of God, that we may 
 be able to withstand in the evil day.—(Scott.) 
 
 3 If Satan be driven back from one attack, prepare for 
 another. Bless God for your armour. Never put it off.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 4 If this monument refers to the experience of Bunyan, as 
 exhibited in his Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, it is 
 well called, ‘ Most strange, and yet most true.’—(E d.) 
 
 with evil things, as many are able to testify ; 5 but 
 these women and children went the better through 
 it, because they had daylight, and because Mr. 
 Great-heart was their conductor. 
 
 When they were entered upon this Valley, they 
 thought that they heard a groaning, Groan ^ gslieaid> 
 as of dead men, a very great groan¬ 
 ing. They thought, also, they did hear words of 
 lamentation spoken, as of some in extreme torment. 
 These things made the boys to quake, the women 
 also looked pale and wan; but their guide bid them 
 be of good comfort. 
 
 So they went on a little further, and they thought 
 that they felt the ground begin to shake T i ie ground 
 under them, as if some hollow place shakes - 
 was there ; they heard also a kind of a hissing, as 
 of serpents, but nothing as yet appeared. Then 
 said the boys, Are we not yet at the end of this 
 doleful place? But the guide also bid them be 
 of good courage, and look well to their feet, lest 
 haply, said he, you be taken in some snare. 6 
 
 Now James began to be sick, but I think the 
 cause thereof was fear; so his mother j ame3 sick with 
 gave him some of that glass of spirits 
 that she had given her at the Interpreter’s house, 
 and three of the pills that Mr. Skill had prepared, 
 and the boy began to revive. Thus they went on, 
 till they came to about the middle of the Valley, 
 and then Christiana said, Metliinks I The Fiend 
 see something yonder upon the road be- appears., 
 fore us, a thing of such a shape such as I have not 
 seen. Then said Joseph, Mother, what is it? An 
 ugly thing, child; an ugly thing, said she. But, 
 mother, what is it like ? said he. It The Pilgrims 
 is 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 Great-heart en- 
 tlie fiend came on, and the conductor courages them - 
 met it; but when it was just come to him, it 
 vanished to all their sights. Then remembered 
 they what had been said some time ago, ‘ Resist 
 the devil, and he will flee from you.’ Ja. iv. 7 . 
 
 They went therefore on, as being a little 
 refreshed; but they had not gone far, before 
 Mercy, looking behind her, saw, as she A Uoiu 
 
 thought, something most like a lion, 
 
 0 This valley represents the inward distress, conflict, and 
 alarm, arising from darkness and insensibility of mind. It 
 varies according to the constitution, animal spirits, health, 
 education, and strength of mind of different persons.—(Scott.) 
 
 6 None know the distress, anguish, and fear that haunt pil¬ 
 grims in this valley, but those who have been in it. The 
 hissings, revilings, and injections of that old serpent, with all 
 his infernal malice, seem to be let loose upon pilgrims in this 
 valley. Asaph seems to he walking in this valley when he 
 says, ‘ As for me, my feet were almost gone, my steps had well 
 nigh slipped.’ Ps. lxxiii. 2.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 209 
 
 find it came a great padding pace after; and it had 
 a hollow voice of roaring; and at every roar that 
 it gave, it made all the Valley echo, and their 
 hearts to ache, save the heart of him that was their 
 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 ad¬ 
 dressed 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. 1 
 
 i Pe. v. 8, 9 . 
 
 Then they went on again, and their conductor 
 did go before them, till they came at a place where 
 a pit and dark- was cast up a pit the whole breadth 
 uess - of the way ; and, before they could be 
 prepared to go over that, a great mist and dark¬ 
 ness fell upon them, so that they could not see. 
 Then said the Pilgrims, Alas! now what shall we 
 do? But their guide made answer, Fear not, 
 stand still, and see what an end will be put to this 
 also. So they staid there, because their path was 
 marred. They then also thought that they did 
 hear more apparently the noise and rushing of the 
 enemies; the fire, also, and the smoke of the pit, 
 was much easier to be discerned. 2 * Then said 
 
 God." is. l. io. 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 w'ould not 
 boast, for that 1 am not mine own saviour; but I 
 trust we shall have a good deliverance. Come, let 
 us pray for light to him that can lighten our dark¬ 
 ness, and that can rebuke not only these, but all 
 the Satans in hell. 
 
 So they cried and prayed, and God sent light 
 and deliverance, for there was now no 
 
 . . . . . . Tuey prav. 
 
 let m their way; no not there, where 
 but now they were stopped with a pit. Yet they 
 were not got through the Valley; so they went on 
 still, and behold great stinks and loathsome smells, 
 to the great annoyance of them. 4 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. 
 
 0 but, said one of the boys, it is not so bad to 
 go through here, as it is to abide here one of the boys’ 
 always; and for aught I know, one re P J y- 
 reason why we must go this way to the house pre¬ 
 pared for us, is, that our home might be made the 
 sweeter to us. 5 
 
 Christiana to Mercy, Now I see what my poor 
 
 Christiana now husband went through ; I have heard 
 knows what her much of this place, but I never was 
 
 husband felt. . , P 1 „ . 
 
 here before now. Poor man, he went 
 here all alone in the night; he had night almost 
 quite through the way; also, these fiends were 
 busy about him, as if they -would have torn him in 
 pieces. Many have spoke of it, but none can tell 
 what the 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. 
 
 Great-heart. This is like doing business in 
 Great-heart’s great waters, or like going down into 
 reply ' the deep; this is like being in the 
 heart of the sea, and like going down to the bot¬ 
 
 toms 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 
 
 1 Satan is often most dreadful at a distance, and, courage¬ 
 
 ously resisted, will not advance nearer. This advice is ever 
 needful, ‘ Be sober; be vigilant.’ These pilgrims kept up their 
 watch. Satan did come upon them unawares; still they heard 
 his approach; they were prepared for his attack; lo, Satan 
 drew back.—(Mason.) 
 
 Miserable, uncomfortable walking, with a pit before us, 
 and darkness arouud, yea, within us, and hell seeming to 
 move from beneath to meet us who have been left to the dark¬ 
 ness of our nature, the terrors of a fiery law, the sense of guilt, 
 and the fear of hell 1 0 what an unspeakable mercy, in such 
 
 a distressing season, to have an Almighty Saviour to look to, 
 and call upon for safety and salvation 1 ‘ For he will hear our 
 
 cry and save us.’ Ps. cxlv. 1 ( J.—(Mason.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 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 prizefight 
 and good way better than ever I did in all my 
 fife. Then said the guide, We shall be out by 
 and by. 6 
 
 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 pre¬ 
 sently be among the snares. So they looked to 
 their feet, and went on; but they were troubled 
 
 3 This text has been a sheet anchor to my soul under dark¬ 
 ness and distress. I doubt not but it has been so to many 
 others. 0 there is an amazing depth of grace, and a wonder¬ 
 ful height of mercy in it. Bless God for it. Study it deeply. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 4 What must the pure and holy Jesus have suffered when 
 lie tasted death in all its bitterness? His soul was in an 
 agony. Hell was let loose upon him. This is your hour, said 
 he, and the power of darkness, when he cried out, ‘ My God, 
 my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ It seemed as if the 
 pains of hell had got hold of him. O what justice and judg¬ 
 ment ! what love and mercy! what power and might were 
 here displayed! And all this for us, and for our salvation. 
 What shall we render to the Lord for all his benefits ?—(J. B.) 
 
 6 Precious thought; under the worst and most distressing- 
 circumstances think of this. Their continuance is short. The 
 appointment, love. Their end shall be crowned with glory. 
 Our dark and distressing nights make us prize our light and 
 joyful days the more.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 The tremendous horrors of the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Heath, figuratively represents the gloomy frame of mind in 
 which fears rise high, and temptations greatly abound, more 
 especially when they are augmented by bodily disease. Few 
 Christians are wholly exempted from such distressing seasons, 
 but all are not distressed alike.—(Burder.) Bunyan’s experi¬ 
 ence, recorded in his Grace Abounding , shows that he was, 
 when under conviction, very familiar with these horrors.—(E d.) 
 
 27 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 *10 
 
 much with the snares. Now, when they were come 
 among the snares, they espied a man cast into the 
 ditch on the left hand, with his flesh all rent and 
 torn. Then said the guide, That is one Heedless, 
 
 Heedless is slain, tliat WaS a g oin g this wa .Y j he haS lain 
 and Take-heed there a great while . 1 There was one 
 
 Take-heed with him, when he was 
 taken and slain ; hut he escaped their hands. 
 You cannot imagine how many are killed hereabout, 
 and yet men are so foolishly venturous, as to set 
 out lightly on pilgrimage, and to come without a 
 First Part, guide . 2 Poor Christian! it was a won- 
 p. lit. d er j ie p ere esca p ec i. but he was 
 beloved of his God: also, he had a good heart of his 
 own , 3 or else he could never have done it. Now 
 they drew towards the end of the way; and just 
 there where Christian had seen the cave when he 
 went by, out thence came forth Maul, 
 a giant. This Maul did use to spoil 
 young pilgrims with sophistry; and he called 
 Great-heart by his name, and said unto him, How 
 
 lie quarrels with many times have you been forbidden 
 Great-heart. t0 jo these things? Then said Mr. 
 
 Great-heart, What things? What things? quoth 
 the giant; you know what things; but I will put 
 an end to your trade. But pray, said Mr. Great- 
 heart, before we fall to it, let us understand where¬ 
 fore we must fight. Now the women and children 
 stood trembling, and knew not what to do. Quoth 
 the giant, You rob the country, and rob it with 
 the worst of thefts . 4 These are but generals, said 
 Mr. Great-heart; come to particulars, man. 
 
 Maul, a giaut. 
 
 1 Heedless professors, be warned. The doctrines of grace 
 were never intended to lull any asleep in carnal security. If 
 they do so by you, it is a sure sign that what should have 
 been for your health proves an occasion of your falling.— 
 (Mason.) O the miserable end of them that obey not the 
 gospel—punished with everlasting destruction from the presence 
 of the Lord, and the glory of his power.—(J. B.) 
 
 2 Prayer prevailed, and they were delivered. 
 
 By glinim’ring hopes, and gloomy fears, 
 
 We trace the sacred road; 
 
 Through dismal deeps, and dang’rous snares, 
 
 We make our way to God.—(Burder.) 
 
 3 By a good heart is here meant, that Christian was endued 
 with boldness and courage from above; as the Psalmist says, 
 ‘Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he shall strengthen 
 thine heart.’—(J. B.) 
 
 4 Satan’s master argument is, Thou art a horrible sinner, a 
 hypocrite, one that has a profane heart, and one that is an 
 utter stranger to a work of grace. I say this is his Maul, his 
 club, his master-piece. He doth with this as some do by their 
 most enchanting songs, sings them everywhere. I believe 
 there are but few saints in the world that have not had this 
 temptation sounding in their ears. But were they but aware, 
 Satan by all this does but drive them to the gap, out at which 
 they should go, and so escape his roaring. Saith he, Thou art 
 a great sinner, a horrible sinner, a profane-hearted wretch, one 
 that cannot be matched for a vile one in the country. The 
 tempted may say, Aye, Satan, so I am, a sinner of the biggest 
 size, and, therefore, have most need of Jesus Christ; yea, be¬ 
 cause I am such a wretch Jesus calls me first. I am he, 
 
 wherefore stand back, Satan, make a laue; my right is first to 
 
 come to Jesus Christ. This, now, would be like for like; this 
 
 would foil the devil: this would make him say, I must not 
 
 Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft 
 of a kidnapper; thou ffatherest up „ „ , , . 
 
 women and children, and earnest them counted as kid- 
 into a strange country, to the weaken- nappei3 ‘ 
 ing of my master’s kingdom. But now Great-heart 
 replied, I am a servant of the God of heaven; my 
 business is to persuade sinners to repentance; I 
 am commanded to do my endeavour to turn men, 
 women, and children, ‘ from darkness to light, and 
 from the power of Satan unto God:’ The 
 and if this be indeed the ground of Mr. Great-heart 
 thy quarrel, let us fall to it as soon nmst 
 as thou wilt. 
 
 Then the giant came up, and Mr. Great-heart 
 went to meet him; and as he went, he drew his 
 sword, but the giant had a club. So without more 
 ado, they fell to it, and at the first blow the giant 
 struck Mr. Great-heart down upen one of his 
 knees; with that the women and chil¬ 
 dren cried out; so Mr. Great-heart 
 recovering himself, laid about him in 
 full lusty manner, and gave the giant 
 a wound in his arm; thus he fought for the space 
 of an hour, to that height of heat, that the breath 
 came 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 betook him to prayer ; also the women and 
 children did nothing but sigh and cry all the time 
 that the battle did last . 5 
 
 Weak folks’ 
 prayers do 
 sometimes 
 help strong 
 folks’ cries. 
 
 When they had rested them, and taken breath, 
 they both fell to it again , 6 and Mr. Great-heart 
 with a full blow, fetched the giant The giant 
 down to the ground. Nay, hold, and struck down - 
 let me recover, quoth he; so Mr. Great-heart 
 fairly let him get up. So to it they went again, 
 and the giant missed but little of all-to-breaking 
 Mr. Great-heart’s skull with his club. 
 
 Mr. Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the 
 full heat of his spirit, and pierceth him under the 
 fifth rib ; with that the giant began to faint, and 
 could hold up his club no longer. Then Mr. Great- 
 heart seconded his blow, and smote the head of 
 the giant from his shoulders. Then the women 
 and children rejoiced, and Mr. Great-heart also 
 praised God, for the deliverance he had wrought . 7 
 
 deal with this man thus; for then I put a sword into his hand 
 to cut oft' my head.— {Good News for the Vilest of Men, vol. i. 
 p. 96.) 
 
 0 The greatest heart cannot understand without prayer, nor 
 conquer without the almighty power of God. The belief of 
 this will excite prayer.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 The severity of Job’s sufferings probably suggested to the 
 author, the idea of taking rest during the conflict. ‘ How long 
 wilt thou not depart from me, nor let me alone till I swallow 
 down my spittle?’ Job vii. 19. Here is no timidly mincing 
 the matter with sophistry or infidelity; but a manful, prayer¬ 
 ful, fighting it out.— (Ed.) 
 
 7 Mr. Ivimey considers, that in Giant Maul is characterised 
 that erroneous but common notion, that the church of Christ 
 
TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 211 
 
 ^ hen this was done, they among them erected 
 
 He is slain, and a P ilIar > aiul fastened the giant’s head 
 his head’ dis- thereon, and wrote underneath in let- 
 
 posed of. , , 
 
 ters, that passengers might read— 
 
 He that did wear this head, was one 
 That pilgrims did misuse; 
 
 Tie stopp’d their way, he spared none, 
 
 But did them all abuse; 
 
 Until that I, Great-heart, arose, 
 
 The pilgrim’s guide to be; 
 
 Until that I did him oppose, 
 
 That was their enemy. 
 
 Now I saw, that they went to the ascent that 
 " as a little way off, cast up to he a prospect for 
 First Part, pilgrims (that was the place from 
 p - n6 - whence Christian had the first sight 
 of Faithful his brother); wherefore here they sat 
 down, and rested ; they also here did eat and 
 drink, and make merry, for that they had gotten 
 deliverance from this so dangerous an enemy . 4 
 As they sat thus, and did eat, Christiana asked 
 the guide if he had caught no hurt in the battle. 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart, No, save a little on 
 my flesh; yet that also shall be so far from being 
 to my detriment, that it is at present a proof of 
 my love to my Master and you, and shall be a 
 means, by grace, to increase my reward at last . 2 
 
 2 Co. iv. 
 
 consists exclusively of some one state religion, to dissent 
 from w liich is to cause schism, and to rend the seamless coat 
 of Christ. Maul dwelt in the place where Pagan and Pope 
 had resided; the club being the temporal power to compel 
 uniformity. If so, the declaration for liberty of conscience 
 slew the giant, and the Act of toleration prevented his resurrec¬ 
 tion. Alas, how little do such Antichristians know of that 
 spiritual kingdom which extends over all the temporal king¬ 
 doms of the earth, and which constitutes Christ the King of 
 kings.— (Ed.) Carnal reasoning upon the equity of the Divine 
 proceedings have mauled many a Christian—robbed him of his 
 comfort, and spoiled his simplicity. As soon as we turn aside 
 to vain janglings and doubtful disputations, we get upon the 
 devil s ground. As Great-heart was knocked down with this 
 giant s club, so many a faithful minister has been confounded 
 with the subtle arguments of a cunning disputer. The way 
 to overcome this giant is to keep close to Scripture, and pray 
 for the teaching of the Holy Spirit.— (J. B.) Though Maul I 
 was baffled, disabled, and apparently slain; it will appear! 
 that he has left a posterity on earth to revile, injure, and 1 
 oppose the spiritual worshippers of God in every generation. ; 
 ^ocott.) 
 
 1 Mell may Giant Maul, with his sophistry, be called a 
 angcrous enemy. Many of this tribe are mentioned in the 
 
 Holy liar, as Lord Cavil, the Lord Brisk, the Lord Pragmatic, 
 t e Lord M urmur, and one Clip-promise, a notorious villain, 
 i hese lords felt the edge of Lord WiU-be-will’s sword, for which 
 ns 1J mce Immanuel honoured him. Clip-promise was set in 
 e pillory, whipped, and hanged. One clipper-of-promise 
 does great abuse to Mansoul in a little time. Bunyan’s 
 
 judgment was, that ‘ all those of his name and life should be 
 served even as he!’—(E d.) 
 
 2 Light afflictions, but for a moment, and which work out 
 
 an eternal weight of glory— f a little hurt on my flesh.’ 
 
 tins refers to Bunyan’s twelve years’ imprisonment under the 
 maul of sophistry, how must his natural temper have been 
 
 subdued by humility !— (Ed.) 
 
 Christ. But was you not afraid, good Sir, when 
 you saw him come out with his club ? 3 m scol , rseoflllo 
 Great-heart. It is my duty, said %i»t. 
 lie. to distrust my own ability, that I may liavo 
 reliance on him that is stronger than all. 
 
 Christ. But what did you think when lie fetched 
 you down to the ground at the first blow? 
 
 Great-heart.. Why, I thought, quoth lie, that 
 so my Master himself was served, and yet lie it 
 was that conquered at the last. 
 
 Matt. When you all have thought what you 
 please, I think God lias been wonder¬ 
 ful good unto us, both in bringing us admires Good- 
 out of this Valley, and in delivering 
 
 ness. 
 
 us out of the hand of this enemy ; for my part, I 
 see no reason, why we should distrust our God anv 
 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 came to it, they TeefSerau 
 found an old pilgrim fast asleep; they oak ' 
 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 ? 4 
 
 Great-heart. Come, man, be not so hot, here 
 is none but friends; yet the old man gets up, and 
 stands upon his guard, and will know of them 
 what they were. Then said the guide, My name 
 is Great-heart; I am the guide of these Pilgrims, 
 which are going to the Celestial Country. 
 
 Honest. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you 
 mercy; I feared that you had been One saint some- 
 of the company of those that some another for h ' 
 time ago did rob Little-faith of his enemy, 
 money ; but now I look better about me, I perceive 
 you are honester people. 
 
 Great-heart. Why, what would, ^reatailm * 1 
 or could you have done, to have helped aud he * 
 yourself, if we indeed had been of that company. 
 
 Hon. Done! why I would have fought as long 
 as breath had been in me ; and had I so done, I 
 am sure you could,never have given me the worst 
 on it; for a Christian can never he overcome, 
 unless he should yield of himself . 5 
 
 J r l his club we may suppose to mean human power, under 
 which many godly ministers, iu the seventeenth century, suf¬ 
 fered greatly. Blessed be God, we have nothing of this to fear 
 in our day; therefore, the more shame for such professors who 
 desert Christ when they have nothing to fear but the breath of 
 reproach, a nickname, or a by-word of contempt.— (Mason.) 
 
 4 The experienced Christian will be afraid of new acquaint¬ 
 ance; in his most uuwatchful seasons he is fully convinced 
 that no enemy can hurt him, unless he is induced to yield to 
 temptation, and commit sin.— (Scott.) 
 
 5 The character of Honesty is beautifully drawn by a mas¬ 
 terly hand. The aged pilgrim, worn out with fatigue, cun say 
 
212 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Great-heart. 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. 
 
 Hon. And by this, also, I know that thou 
 knowest what true pilgrimage is; for all others do 
 think that we are the soonest overcome of any. 
 
 Great-heart. Well, now we are so happily met, 
 Whence Mr. pray ^ me crave y our name, and the 
 Honest came. name 0 f the place you 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. 
 
 Great-heart. 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 gen¬ 
 tleman blushed, and said, Not Honesty, in the 
 abstract , * 1 but Honest is my name; and I wish 
 that my nature shall agree to what I am called. 
 
 Hon. But, Sir, said the old gentleman, how 
 could you guess that I am such a man, since I 
 came from such a place? 
 
 Great-heart. I had heard of you before, by 
 my Master; for he knows all things that are done 
 on the earth; but I have often wondered that any 
 stupified ones should come from your place, for your 
 ?hos7 r meie a i? town is worse than is the City of De- 
 cavnai. struction 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 . 2 
 
 Great-heart. 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 . 3 
 
 without fear, ‘I laid me down and slept; I awaked ; for the 
 Lord sustained me.’ He blushed when his name was men¬ 
 tioned, and proved to be a most valuable acquisition to the 
 Pilgrim party.— (En.) 
 
 1 By honesty, in the abstract, he means to distinguish be¬ 
 tween his earnest desire to be honest, and a perfect character. 
 Every Christian is the subject of honesty or justice, upright¬ 
 ness and sincerity; yet when we come to describe these virtues 
 in the abstract, or what they really are in their strict purity 
 and utmost perfection, where is the Christian but must wear 
 the conscientious blush, as Honesty did, under a sense of his 
 imperfections ?—(Mason.) 
 
 2 This is the confession of an honest heart. It is never 
 afraid of ascribing too much to the sovereignty of grace; nor 
 of giving all the glory to the Sun of Righteousness, for shining 
 upon, and melting down its hard frozen soul. (Mason.) 
 
 3 If the kiss of charity be given, great care should be taken 
 that it is a ‘holy’ kiss. ‘ ‘ Some have urged the holy kiss, but 
 then I have asked why they made baulks; why they did salute 
 the most handsome, and let the ill-favoured go. this has been 
 unseemly in my sight.’— {Grace Abounding, No. 315.) How¬ 
 ever such a custom may have been innocent in the oriental scenes 
 of apostolic labours, it has been very properly discontinued in 
 later ages, unless it be as in the case ot old Honest, or the 
 
 unexpected meeting of very old friends and relatives.— (Ed.) 
 
 Christ. Then said Christiana, My name, I sup¬ 
 pose you have heard of; good Chris- old Honest and 
 tian was my husband, and these four clu-13tiana talk - 
 were his children. But can you think how the old 
 gentleman was taken, when she told him who she 
 was! He skipped, he smiled, and blessed them 
 Avith a thousand good Avishes, saying: 
 
 Hon. I have heard much of your husband, and 
 of his travels and Avars, which he undenvent in his 
 days. Be it spoken to your comfort, the name of 
 your husband rings over all 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, and He als0 talk3 
 asked them of their names, which they J™ 1 ^ e r /no- 
 told him. And then said he unto nest’s blessing 
 them : MattheAV, be thou like MattheAv 
 the publican, not in vice, but in virtue. Mat. x. 3. 
 Samuel, said he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, 
 a man of faith and prayer. Ps. xcix. g. Joseph, said 
 he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar’s house, chaste, 
 and one that flies from temptation. Ge. xxxix. And 
 James, be thou like James the Just, and like 
 James the brother of our Lord. Ac. i. is, h. Then 
 they told him of Mercy, and Iioav she He biesseth 
 had left her town and her kindred to 
 come along with Christiana and with her sons. 
 At that the old honest man said, Mercy is thy 
 name ; by Mercy shalt thou be sustained, and 
 carried through all those difficulties that shall 
 assault thee in thy way, till thou shalt come thither, 
 Avhere thou shalt look the Fountain of Mercy in 
 the face Avith comfort. 
 
 All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, Avas 
 
 very much pleased, and smiled upon his companion. 
 
 Now, as they walked along together, the guide 
 
 asked the old gentleman, if he did not know one 
 
 Mr. Fearing, that came on pilgrimage Talk of one 
 , ? , • , 5 Mr. Tearing. 
 
 out of his parts: 
 
 Hon. Yes, very Avell, said he. He Avas a man 
 that had the root of the matter in him; but he 
 Avas one of the most troublesome pilgrims that 
 ever I met with in all my days . 4 
 
 4 The character and narrative of Fearing is drawn and 
 arranged with great judgment, and in a very affecting manner. 
 Little-faith, mentioned in the First Part, Avas faint-hearted and 
 distrustful; and thus he contracted guilt, and lost his comfort; 
 but Fearing dreaded sin, and coming short of heaven, more 
 than all that flesh could do unto him. He was alarmed more 
 at the fear of being overcome by temptation, than from a 
 reluctance to undergo derision or persecution. The peculiarity 
 of this description of Christians must be traced hack to consti¬ 
 tution, habit, first impressions, disproportionate and partial 
 views of truth, and improper instructions; these, concurring 
 with weakness of faith, and the common infirmities of human 
 nature, give a cast to their experience aud character, which 
 renders them uncomfortable to themselves, and troublesome to 
 others. Yet no competent judges doubt that they have the 
 root of the matter in them; and none are more entitled to the 
 patient, sympathizing, and tender attention of ministers and 
 Christians.—(Scott.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 213 
 
 Great-heart. I perceive you knew liim; for you 
 have given a very right character of him. 
 
 IIon. Knew him! 1 was a great companion of 
 his; I was with him most an end; when ho first 
 began to think of what would come upon us here¬ 
 after, I was with him. 
 
 Great-heart. I was his guide from my Master’s 
 house to the gates of the Celestial City. 
 
 IIon. Then you knew him to be a troublesome one. 
 
 Great-heart. I did so, but I could very well 
 bear it; for men of my calling are oftentimes 
 intrusted with the conduct of such as he was. 
 
 Hon. Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, 
 and how he managed himself under your conduct. 
 
 Great-heart. Why, he was always afraid that 
 ,, t . , he should come short of whither he had 
 troublesome a desire to go. Everything frightened 
 him that he heard anybody speak of, 
 that had but the least appearance of opposition in 
 
 His behaviour 1 liear that lie % roarin 2 at the 
 
 at the Slough Slough of Despond for about a month 
 
 together; nor durst he, for all he saw 
 several go over before him, venture, though they, 
 many of them, offered to lend him their hand. He 
 would not go back again neither. 1 The Celestial 
 City, he said, he should die if he came not to it; 
 and yet was dejected at every difficulty, and stum¬ 
 bled at every straw that anybody cast in his way. 
 Well, after he had lain at the Slough of Despond 
 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 Despond 
 in his mind; a slough that he carried everywhere 
 with him, or else he could never have been as he was. 
 So he came up to the gate, you know what I mean, 
 that stands at the head of this way; and there 
 His behaviour also be stood a good while, before he 
 at the gate. would adventure to knock. When the 
 gate was opened, he would give back, and give 
 place to others, and say that he tvas not worthy. 
 For, for all he got 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 shrank back as before. He 
 that opened stepped out after him, and said, Thou 
 trembling one, what wantest thou ? With that he 
 
 1 We canuot but admire the variety of experiences introduced 
 into the Pilgrim’s Progress. Many have died remarkably 
 happy in the Lord, who, till very near their last moments, 
 have been in bondage through the fear of death. We may be 
 sure of this, that wherever the Lord has begun a w'ork, he will 
 carry it ou to the great decisive day. The proof of this is 
 ‘he would not go back!’ ‘If ye continue in my word, then 
 are ye my disciples indeed.’—(J. 13.) 
 
 fell down to the ground. He that spoke to him 
 wondered to see him so faint. So he said to him, 
 Peace be to thee; up, for I have set open the door 
 to thee. Come in, for thou art blessed. With 
 that he got up, and went in trembling; and when 
 he was in, he was ashamed to show his face. Well, 
 after he had been entertained there a while, as you 
 know how the manner is, he was bid 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 HJg bdnvinrr 
 at my master the Interpreter’s door, at the Iuter- 
 He lay thereabout in the cold a good i' 1Lttrs d(l0 ■ 
 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 conductor, because he was him¬ 
 self 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 wa3 
 almost starved. Yea, so great was his dejection, 
 that though he saw several others, for knocking, 
 get in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last, I 
 think, I looked out of the window, and perceiving 
 a man to be up and down about the door, I went 
 out to him, and asked what he was; but, poor 
 man ! the water stood in his eyes; so I perceived 
 what he wanted. I went, therefore, in and told 
 it in the house, and we showed the thing to our 
 Lord. So he sent me out again, to entreat him to 
 come in; but, I dare say, I had hard work to do 
 it. At last he came in ; and I will ,, m . 
 
 7 _ liow he was 
 
 say that for my Lord, he carried it entertained 
 wonderfully lovingly to him. There 
 were but a few good bits at the table, but some 
 of it was laid upon his trencher. Then he pre¬ 
 sented the note, and my Lord looked thereon, and 
 said his desire should be granted. So, when he had 
 been there a good while, he seemed He is a little 
 to get some heart, and to be a little tbe°Ynferpre- 
 more comfortable; for my master, ter ’ s House> 
 you must know, is one of very tender bowels, espe¬ 
 cially to them that are afraid ; wherefore he carried 
 it so towards him, as might tend most to his 
 encouragement. Well, when he had had a sight 
 of the things of the place, and was ready to tako 
 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 wus 
 but of few words, only he would sigh aloud. 
 
 When we were come to where the three fellows 
 were hanged, he said that he doubted He was greatly 
 that that would be his end also. Only sawthe gibbet- 
 lie seemed glad when he saw the Cross , clieer - v when 
 and the Sepulchre. There, I confess, Cross. 
 
214 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 he desired to stay a little to look, and he seemed, 
 for a while after, to he 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. 1 * 
 I got him in at the House Beautiful, I think, 
 
 Dumpish at before wa3 willing. Also, when 
 the House he was in, I brought him acquainted 
 Beautiful. w *^ d amse l s that were of the 
 
 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 ancient things, and to be pondering them in 
 his mind. He told me afterwards that he loved to 
 be in those two houses from which he came last, 
 to wit, at the gate, and that of the Interpreter, 
 but that he durst not be so bold to ask. 
 
 When we went also from the House Beautiful, 
 down the hill, into the Valley of Hu¬ 
 miliation, he went down as well as 
 ever I saw man in my life; for he 
 cared not how mean he was, so he 
 might be happy at last. Yea, I think, 
 there was a kind of a sympathy betwixt that valley 
 and him; for I never saw him better in all his 
 pilgrimage than when he was in that valley.' 
 
 Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, 
 and kiss the very flowers that grew in this valley. 
 La. iii 27 — 29 . He would now be up every morning 
 by break of day, tracing and walking to and fro 
 in this valley. 
 
 But when he was come to the entrance of the 
 Much perplexed Valley of the Shadow of Death, I 
 of the 6 Shadow thought I sliould have lost my man ; 
 of Death. not f or that he had any inclination to 
 go back ; that he always abhorred; but he was 
 ready to die for fear. Oh ! the hobgoblins will have 
 me ! the hobgoblins will have me ! cried he; and 
 I could not beat him out on it. He made such a 
 noise, and such an outcry here, that, had they but 
 heard him, it was enough to encourage them to 
 come and fall upon us.* 
 
 He went down 
 into, and was 
 very pleasant 
 in, the Valley 
 of Humilia¬ 
 tion. 
 
 1 See all through this character, what a conflict there wa 3 
 between fear, and the influence of grace. Though it may not 
 be the most comfortable, yet the end of Mr. Rearing was very 
 joyful. 0 what a godly jealousy displayed itself all through 
 his life! Better this, than strong, vain-glorious conlidence. 
 The Valley of Humiliation suits well with fearing hearts.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 2 When persons are naturally fearful and low-spirited, it 
 will be found, notwithstanding the courage and comfort they 
 sometimes are favoured with, that the constitutional bias of 
 their tempers and dispositions will discover itself, more or 
 less, all through their pilgrimage. Thus there is a kind of 
 sympathy between Rearing and the Valley of Humiliation, 
 which seems congenial to him.—(J. B.) 
 
 3 O what a time of need is the day of death, when I am to 
 pack up all, to be gone from hence; now a man grows near the 
 borders of eternity; he sees into the skirts of the next world. 
 
 But tbis I took very great notice of, that this 
 valley was as quiet while he went through it, as 
 ever I knew it before or since. I suppose these 
 enemies here had now a special check from our 
 Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr, 
 Fearing was passed over it. 
 
 It would be too tedious to tell you of all. Wo 
 will, therefore, only mention a passage or two more. 
 When he was come at Vanity Fair, I His behaviour 
 thought he would have fought with all atVamt y Fair - 
 the men at the fair. I feared there we should 
 both have been knocked on the head, so hot was 
 he against their fooleries. 4 Upon the Enchanted 
 Ground, he was also very wakeful. But when he 
 was come at the river, where was no bridge, there 
 again he was in a heavy case. Now, now, he said, 
 he should be drowned for ever, and so never see 
 that face with comfort that he had come so many 
 miles to behold. 
 
 And here, also, I took notice of what was very 
 remarkable; the water of that river was lower at 
 this time than ever I saw it in all my life. So he 
 went over at last, not much above wet-shod. 5 When 
 he was going up to the gate, Mr. Great-heart 
 began to take his leave of him, and to wish him a 
 good reception above. So he said, I shall, I 
 shall. Then parted we asunder, and H is boUness at 
 I saw him no more. 1:ist 
 
 Hon. Then, it seems, he was well at last. 
 
 Great-heart. Yes, yes; I never had doubt 
 about him; he was a man of a choice spirit, only 
 he was always kept very low, and that made his 
 life so burdensome to himself, and so troublesome 
 to others. Ps. lxxxvm. 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. Ro. xiv. 21 . 
 1 Co. viii. 13. 
 
 Hon. But what should be the reason that such 
 a o;ood man should be all his days so much in the 
 dark ? 3 
 
 Now death is death, and the grave the grave indeed. Has 
 he laid up grace tor this day, while cold death strokes his 
 hand over his face, and over his heart, and is turning his blood 
 into jelly; while strong death is loosing his silver cord, and 
 breaking his golden bowl ?—Bunyan’s Saints' Privilege, vol. i. 
 
 p. 678. Can a great-hearted saint wonder that Mr. Rearing 
 
 was at his wit’s end?— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Here is a glorious display of a fearing heart. Rull of 
 courage against evil, and fired with zeal for God’s glory.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 5 0 how gracious is our Lord 1 as thy day is, O Pilgrim, so 
 shall thy strength be. Even the river of death, though there 
 can be no bridge to go over, yet faith makes one; and the Lord 
 of faith makes the waters low, to suit the state of his beloved 
 ones.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 We know the least appearance of a sin better by its native 
 hue, than we know a grace of the Spirit. Sin is sooner felt 
 in its bitterness upon a sanctified soul than is the grace of 
 God. Sin is dreadful and murderous in the sight of a sanc¬ 
 tified soul. Grace lies deep in the hidden part, but sin floats 
 above in the flesh, and is easier seen. Grace as to quantity, 
 
TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 215 
 
 Great-iieart. There are two sorts of reasons 
 
 Reasons whv ^° r ^ * ^ ne 1S » ^ ie W ^ se God have 
 
 (rood men are it so ; some must pipe, and some must 
 so in the dark. 1 r ’ 
 
 weep. Mat. xi. 16-is. Now Mr. Fearing 
 was one that played upon this bass; he and his 
 fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes are more 
 doleful than the notes of other music are: though, 
 indeed, some say the bass is the ground of music. 
 And, for my part, I care not at all for that pro¬ 
 fession that begins not in heaviness of mind. The 
 first string that the musician usually touches is the 
 bass, when he intends to put all in tune. God also 
 plays upon this string first, when lie sets the soul 
 in tune for himself. Only here was the imperfec¬ 
 tion of Mr. Fearing, lie could play upon no other 
 music but this, till towards his latter end. 1 
 
 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 com¬ 
 pared to a company of musicians that play upon 
 their trumpets and harps, and sing their songs 
 before the throne. Re. vffi. 2 ; xiv. 2 , 3 . 
 
 IIon. lie was a very zealous man, as one may 
 see by what relation you have given of him; diffi¬ 
 culties, lions, or Vanity Fair, he feared not at all. 
 It was only sin, death, and liell that was to him a 
 terror, because he had some doubts about his 
 interest in that celestial country. 2 
 
 Great-iieart. You say right. Those were the 
 a close about things that were liis troublers, and 
 liim ‘ they, as you have well observed, arose 
 from the weakness of his mind thereabout, not 
 from weakness of spirit as to the practical part of a 
 pilgrim s life. I dare believe that, as the proverb 
 is, ‘ he could have bit a firebrand, had it stood in 
 his way; ’ but the things with which he was op¬ 
 pressed, no man ever yet could shake off with ease. 
 Christ. Then said Christiana, This relation of 
 Christiana’s Mr. Fearing has done me good. I 
 sentence, thought nobody liad been like me; 
 but I see there was some semblance betwixt this 
 
 seems less than sin. What is leaven, or a grain of mustard 
 seed, to the bulky lump of a body of death ? It is a rare thing 
 for some Christians to see their graces, hut a thing very com¬ 
 mon for such to see their sins, to the shaking of their souls.— 
 (Bunyan’s Desire of the Righteous, vol. i. p. 755.) 
 
 1 This is an Svery-day character in the church, delicately 
 and accurately drawn, a man, as Mr. Ivimey says, that ‘ carried 
 the Slough of Despond in his mind everywhere with him,’ not 
 from the difficulties of the way, nor the frowns of the world, 
 hut from doubts lest sin, death, and hell, should prevail over 
 them, 'they walk safely, however sorrowfully; and seldom give 
 the enemy an occasion to rejoice.— (Ed.) 
 
 ~ Here is a very striking iesson for professors. Talk not of 
 your great knowledge, rich experience, comfortable frames, 
 and joyful feelings; all are vain and delusive, if the gospel has 
 not a holy iufiuence upon your practice. On the other hand, 
 be not dejected if you are not favoured with these; for if u 
 holy fear of God, and a godly jealousy over yourselves, possess 
 your heart, verily you are a partaker’of the grace of Christ.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 f good man and I; only we differed in two tilings: 
 His troubles were so great, they break out; but 
 mine I kept within. Ilis, also, lay so hard upon 
 him, they made him that he could not knock at 
 the houses provided for entertainment; but my 
 trouble was always such as made me knock the 
 louder. 
 
 Mercy. If I might also speak my heart, I must 
 say, that something of him has also Merry’s 
 dwelt in me; for I have ever been sentence, 
 more afraid of the lake, and the loss of a place in 
 Paradise, than I have been of the loss of other 
 things. 0, thought I, may I have the happiness 
 to have a habitation there, it is enough, though 1 
 part with all the world to win it! 
 
 Matt. Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing 
 
 7 O 
 
 that made me think that I was far Matthew’s 
 from having that within me that ac- sentence, 
 companies salvation; but if it was so with such a 
 good man as he, why may it not also go well with 
 me ? 
 
 James. No fears, no grace, said James. Though 
 there is not always grace where there James’s 
 
 is the fear of hell, yet, to be sure, sentence, 
 
 there is no grace where there is no fear of God. 3 
 
 Great-heart. 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 be¬ 
 ginning, have neither middle nor end. But we 
 will here conclude our discourse of Mr. Fearing, 
 after we have sent after him this farewell. 
 
 M ell, Master Fearing, thou didst fear 
 Thy God, and wast afraid 
 Of doing anything, while here, 
 
 That would have thee betray’d. Their Farewell 
 
 And didst thou fear the lake and pit? about him. 
 
 Would others did so too 1 
 For, as for them that want thy wit, 
 
 They do themselves undo. 4 
 
 3 Hatred to sin can only arise from the love of God. In 
 vain do men think of deterring others from sin, or driving 
 them to duty by low terrors, or low requirements. The strong 
 man armed will keep his palace, till a stronger than he cometh 
 and taketh from him the armour wherein he trusted. But 
 herein they err, not knowing the Scriptures, which set forth 
 love as the constraining motive to true obedience.—(J. B.) 
 
 4 Christians who resemble Fearing, are greatly retarded in 
 their progress by discouraging apprehensions; they are apt to 
 spend too much time in unavailing complaints; yet they cannot 
 think of giving up their feeble hopes, or of returning to their 
 forsaken worldly pursuits and pleasures. They are indeed 
 helped forward, through the mercy of God, in a very extraor¬ 
 dinary manner; yet they still remain exposed to alarms and 
 discouragements, in every stage of their pilgrimage. They 
 tft - e afraid even of relying on Christ for salvation, because they 
 have not distinct views of his love, and the methods of his 
 grace; and imagine some other qualification to be necessary, 
 besides the willingness to seek, knock, and ask for the pro¬ 
 mised blessings, with a real desire of obtaining them. They 
 imagine, that there has been something in their past life, or 
 that there is some peculiarity in their present habits, and way 
 of applying to Christ, which may exclude them from the 
 benefit: so that they pray with diffidence; and, being con- 
 
216 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Now I saw, that they still went on in their talk ; 
 for after Mr. Great-heart had made an end with 
 Mr. Fearin'?, Mr. Honest beffan to tell them of 
 
 o 7 o 
 
 another, hut his name was Mr. Self- 
 
 Of Mr. Self-will. _ , . . ... , 
 
 will. lie pretended himself to be a 
 pilgrim, said Mr. Honest; hut I persuade myself 
 he never came in at the gate that stands at the 
 head of the way. 
 
 Great-heart. Had you ever any talk with him 
 about it ? 
 
 Hon. Yes, more than once or twice ; hut he 
 nnTT , would always he like himself, self- 
 
 Old Honest had ... , TT J „ 
 
 talked with willed. He neither cared tor man, 
 
 nor argument, nor yet example ; what 
 his mind prompted him to, that he would do, and 
 nothing else could he be got to. 
 
 Great-heart. Pray, what principles did he 
 Hold ? for I suppose you can tell. 
 
 Hon. He held, that a man might follow the vices 
 
 Self-will’s as well as the virtues of the pilgrims ; 
 
 opinions. anc | that jf p e ( ]j(j L 0 th ? he should be 
 
 certainly saved. 
 
 Great-heart. How! if he had said, It is pos¬ 
 sible for the best to he guilty of the vices, as well 
 as to partake of the virtues of pilgrims, he could 
 not much have been blamed; for indeed we are 
 exempted from no vice absolutely, but on condition 
 that we watch and strive. * 1 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. 
 
 IIon. Aye, aye, so I mean; and so he believed 
 and practised. 
 
 Great-he art. But what ground had he for his 
 so saying? 
 
 IIon. Why, he said he had the Scripture for his 
 warrant. 
 
 Great-heart. Prithee, Mr. Honest, present us 
 with a few particulars. 
 
 IIon. So I will. He said, To have to do with 
 other men’s wives, had been practised by David, 
 
 sciously unworthy, can hardly believe that the Lord will grant 
 their requests. They are also prone to overlook the most 
 decisive evidences of their reconciliation to God; and to per¬ 
 severe in arguing with perverse ingenuity against their own 
 rnauifest happiness. The same mixture of humility and un¬ 
 belief renders persons of this description backward in asso¬ 
 ciating with their brethren, and in frequenting those companies 
 in which they might obtain further instruction; for they are 
 afraid of being considered as believers, or even serious inquirers; 
 so that affectionate and earnest persuasion is requisite to prevail 
 with them to join in those religious exercises, by which 
 Christians especially receive the teaching of the Holy Spirift 
 Yet this arises not from disinclination, but diffidence; and 
 though they are often peculiarly favoured with seasons of great 
 comfort, to counterbalance their dejections, yet they never 
 hear or read of those who ‘ have drawn hack to perdition/ 
 hut they are terrified with the idea that they shall shortly 
 resemble them; so that every warning given against hypocrisy 
 or self-deception seems to point them out by name, and every 
 uew discovery of any fault or mistake in their views, temper, 
 
 God’s beloved ; and therefore be could do it. He 
 said, To have more women than one, was a thin or 
 that Solomon practised; and therefore he could do 
 it. He said. That Sarah and the godly midwive3 
 of Egypt lied, and so did saved Rahab ; and there¬ 
 fore lie 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. 2 
 
 Great-heart. Highly base! indeed. And you 
 are sure he was of this opinion ? 
 
 IIon. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scrip¬ 
 ture for it, bring argument for it, &c. 
 
 Great-heart. An opinion that is not fit to be 
 with any allowance in the world. 
 
 Hon. You must understand me rightly. Ho 
 did not say that any man might do this; but that 
 those that had the virtues of those that did such 
 things, might also do the same. 
 
 Great-heart. But what more false than such a 
 conclusion ? for this is as much as to say, that 
 because good men heretofore have sinned of in¬ 
 firmity, 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 defiled itself in mire, therefore he 
 might wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar 
 therein. Who could have thought that any cne 
 could so far have been blinded by the power of 
 lust? But what is written must be true: They 
 ‘ stumble at the word, being disobedient; where- 
 unto also they were appointed.’ i Pe. ii. 8. 
 
 His supposing that such may have the godly 
 men’s virtues, who addict themselves to their vices, 
 is also a delusion as strong as the other. It is 
 just as if the dog should say, I have, or may have, 
 the qualities of the child, because I lick up its 
 stinking excrements. To eat up the sin of God’s 
 people, is no sign of one that is possessed with 
 
 or conduct, seems to decide their doom. At the same time, 
 they are often remarkably melted into humble, admiring grati¬ 
 tude, by contemplating the love and sufferings of Christ, and 
 seem to delight in hearing of that subject above all others. 
 They do not peculiarly fear difficulties, self-denial, reproaches, 
 or persecution, which deter numbers from making an open 
 profession of religion ; and yet they are more backward in this 
 respect than others, because they deem themselves unworthy 
 to be admitted to such privileges and into such society, or 
 else are apprehensive of being finally separated from them or 
 becoming a disgrace to religion.—(Scott.) 
 
 1 This is a solid, scriptural definition; pray mind it. Here 
 conditions may safely be admitted; and happy is the Christian 
 who keeps closest to these conditions, in order to enjoy peace 
 of conscience, and joy of heart in Christ.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 That heart, which is uuder the teaching and influence of 
 the grace of God, will detect such horrid notions, and cry out 
 against them. God forbid that ever 1 should listen one mo¬ 
 ment to such diabolical sentiments! for they are hatched in 
 hell, and propagated on earth, by the father of lies.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 217 
 
 tlieir virtues. Ho. iv. s. Korean 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 himself? 1 
 
 IIon. Why, he says, To do this by way of 
 opinion, seems abundance more honest, than to do 
 it, and yet hold contrary to it in opinion. 
 
 Great-iieart. A very wicked answer; for though 
 to let loose the bridle to lusts, while our opinions 
 are against such things, is bad; yet, to sin, and 
 plead a toleration so to do, is worse. The one 
 stumbles beholders accidentally, the other pleads 
 them into the snare. 
 
 IIon. There are many of this man’s mind, that 
 have not this man’s mouth ; and that makes going 
 on pilgrimage of so little esteem as it is. 
 
 Great-heart. You have said the truth, and it 
 is to be lamented; but he that feareth the King 
 of Paradise, shall come out of them all. 
 
 Christ. There are strange opinions in the world; 
 I know one that said, It was time enough to repent 
 when they come to die. 2 
 
 Great-iieart. Such are not over wise. That 
 man would have been loath, might he have had a 
 week to run twenty miles in for his life, to have 
 deferred that journey to the last hour of that week. 
 
 IIon. 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. 3 
 
 I have seen some that have set out as if they 
 would drive all the world afore them, who yet 
 have, in few days, died as they in the wilderness, 
 and so never got sight of the promised land. 
 
 1 have seen some that have promised nothing, 
 
 1 It is a horrible and blasphemous perversion of Scripture, 
 to take encouragement in sin, from those sad examples of it in 
 the saints, which are held up, in terrorem , as so many beacons 
 by which we may avoid the same. To talk, and especially to 
 act like Self-will affords the fullest proof that a man never 
 came in at the gate. The Lord change every such perverse 
 will, and preserve the church from principles and practices so 
 diabolical.—(Burder.) What shall we say to these things? 
 Lord, keep me!—(J. B.) 
 
 2 It may be seriously inquired as to whether in all Satan’s 
 temptations, any one is so fatal to immortal souls as the idea 
 of a death-bed repentance. Have not prayers against sudden 
 death a tendency to interfere with or obstruct that daily walk 
 with God, which alone can fit us to meet the king of terrors? 
 When heart and strength fail; when the body is writhing in 
 agony, or lying an insensible lump of mortality; is that the 
 time to make peace with God ? Such persons must be in-' 
 fatuated with strange notions of the Divine Being. No, my 
 reader, life is the time to serve the Lord, the time to insure 
 the great reward. Sudden death is a release from much pain 
 and anxiety. It is the most merciful gate by which we can 
 cuter upon immortality. —(Ed.) 
 
 3 Pray attentively mind, and deeply consider the six following 
 observations: they are just; they are daily conOrmed to us in 
 
 the different conduct of professors. Study, and pray to improve 
 
 them to your soid’s profit.—(Mason.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 at first setting out to bo pilgrims, and that one 
 would have thought could not have lived a day, 
 that have yet proved very good pilgrims. 
 
 I have seen some who have run hastily forward, 
 that again have, after a little time, run as fast just 
 back again. 
 
 I have seen some who have spoken very well of 
 a pilgrim’s life at first, that, after a while, have 
 spoken as much against it. 
 
 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. 4 * 
 
 Now, as they were thus in their way, there came 
 one running to meet them, and said, p res h news 0 f 
 Gentlemen, and you of the weaker trouble, 
 sort, if you love life, shift for yourselves, for the 
 robbers are before you. 0 
 
 Great-iieart. Then said Mr. Great-heart, They 
 be the three that set upon Little-faith First Part 
 heretofore. Well, said he, we are p. 1*7. 
 ready for them; so they went on tlieir Great-heart’s 
 way. Now, they looked at every turn- resolutlon ' 
 ing, when they should have met with the villains; 
 but whether they heard of Mr. Great-heart, or 
 whether they had some other game, they came not 
 up to the Pilgrims. 
 
 Christiana then wished for an inn for herself 
 and her children, because they were Christiana wish- 
 weary. 6 Then said Mr. Honest, There eth for au mu - 
 is one a little before us, where a very honourable 
 disciple, one Gaius, dwells. Ro. xvL 23. 
 
 So they all concluded to turn in thither, 
 and the rather, because the old gentleman gave 
 him so good a report. So when they came to the 
 door, they went in, not knocking, for folks use not 
 
 Gaius. 
 
 4 Adam bid himself because he was naked. But how could 
 he be naked, when before he had made himself an apron ? 0 ! 
 
 the approach of God consumed and burnt off his apron! Ilis 
 apron would not keep him from the eye of the incorruptible 
 God. "When God deals with such men for sin, assuredly they 
 will find themselves naked.—(Bunyan on Genesis , vol. ii. 
 p. 432.) If the wicked flee when no man pursueth, how can 
 they stand when God lets loose death and eternity upon their 
 guilty souls?— (Ed.) 
 
 6 Thou art bound to heaven, but the way thither is danger¬ 
 ous. It is beset everywhere with evil angels, who would rob 
 thee of thy soul. If thou wouldest go on cheerfully in thy 
 dangerous journey, commit thy treasure—thy soul, to God, to 
 keep ; and then thou mayest say with comfort, W ell, that care 
 is over; my soul is safe; the thieves, if they meet me, cannot 
 come at that; God will keep it to my joy and comfort at the 
 great day.—(Bunyan’s Advice to Sufferers, vol. ii. p. 701.) 
 
 c The spiritual refreshment, arising from experimental conver¬ 
 sation, seems to be especially intended; but the name of Gaius 
 suggests also the importance of the apostle’s exhortation, ‘Use 
 hospitality without grudging.’ This ought to be obeyed even to 
 strangers, if they are certified to us as brethren in Christ. 
 (Scott.) Every Christian’s house should, so far as ability is given, 
 be au inn for the refreshment of weary fellow-pilgrims.— (Ed.) 
 
 28 
 
213 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Gaius’s Cook. 
 
 to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called 
 They enter into f° r the master of the house, and he 
 ins house, came to them. So they asked if they 
 
 might lie there that night. 
 
 Gaius. Yes, gentlemen, if ye he true men, for 
 my house is for none but pilgrims. Then was 
 
 Gaius entertains Christiana, Mercy, and the hoys, the 
 them, and how. more glad, for that the Inn-keeper 
 
 xvas a lover of pilgrims. So they called for rooms, 
 and he showed them one for Christiana and her 
 children, and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great- 
 heart and the old gentleman. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good 
 Gaius, what hast thou for supper? for these pil¬ 
 grims have come far to-day, and are weary. 
 
 Gaius. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot con¬ 
 veniently go out to seek food; hut such as we 
 have, you shall he welcome to, if that will content. 1 
 
 Great-heart. We will he content with what thou 
 hast in the house; forasmuch as I have proved thee, 
 thou art never destitute of that which is convenient. 
 Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose 
 name was Taste-that-which-is-good, 
 to get ready supper for so many pil¬ 
 grims. This done, he comes up again, saying, 
 Come, my good friends, you are welcome to me, 
 and I am glad that I have a house to entertain 
 you; and while supper is making ready, if you 
 please, let us entertain one another with some good 
 discourse. So they all said, Content. 
 
 Talk lietwe i CrAius. Then said Gaius, Whose 
 Gaius ami his wife is this aged matron ? and whose 
 daughter is this young damsel. 
 Great-heart. The woman is the wife of one 
 Christian, a Pilgrim of former times; and these 
 are his four children. The maid is one of her 
 acquaintance; one that she hath persuaded to 
 come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all 
 after their father, and covet to tread 
 in his steps; yea, if they do but see 
 any place where the old Pilgrim hath lain, or any 
 print of his foot, it ministereth joy to their hearts, 
 and they covet to lie or tread in the same. 
 
 Gaius. Then said Gaius, Is this Christian’s wife? 
 and are these Christian’s children? I knew your 
 husband’s father, yea, also his father’s father. 
 Many have been good of this stock; their ancestors 
 Of Christian’s dwelt first at Antioch. Ac. xi. 2G. Chris- 
 aucestors. tian’s progenitors (I suppose you have 
 heard your husband talk of them) were very worthy 
 men. They have, above any that I know, showed 
 themselves men of great virtue and courage, for 
 the Lord of the Pilgrims, his ways, and them that 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 1 This character is drawn from that of the well-heloved Gaius, 
 in the third epistle of John. Although, in comparison with the 
 great bulk of Christians, there are but few such in the church; 
 yet in all ages, aDd in most churches, some hospitable Gaius is 
 to be found. May their numbers be greatly increased.—(E d.) 
 
 loved him. I have heard of many of your husband’s 
 relations, that have stood all trials for the sake of 
 the truth. Stephen, that was one of the first of 
 the family from whence your husband sprang, was 
 knocked on the head with stones. Ac. vii. 59, 60. 
 James, another of this generation, was slain with 
 the edge of the sword. Ac. xii. 2 . To say nothing of 
 Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from 
 whence your husband came, there was Ignatius, 
 who was cast to the lions ; 2 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. It would 
 he utterly impossible to count up all of that family 
 that have suffered injuries and death, for the love 
 of a pilgrim’s life. Nor can I hut he glad, to see 
 that thy husband has left behind him four such 
 boys as these. I hope they will hear up their 
 father’s name, and tread in their father’s steps, 
 and come to their father’s end. 
 
 Great-heart. Indeed, Sir, they are likely lads; 
 they seem to choose heartily their father’s ways. 
 
 Gaius. That is it that I said; wherefore Chris¬ 
 tian’s family is like still to spread ... , „ . 
 abroad upon the face of the ground, tiana about her 
 and yet to he numerous upon the face 1j0ya ‘ 
 of the earth; wherefore, let Christiana look out 
 some damsels for her sons, to whom they may he 
 betrothed, Ac., that the name of their father and 
 the house of his progenitors may never be forgotten 
 in the world. 3 
 
 Hon. It is 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 is the 
 way to uphold it. 
 
 And, Christiana, said this Innkeeper, I am glad 
 to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a 
 lovely couple. And may I advise, take Mercy into 
 a nearer relation to thee; if she will, let her be 
 given to Matthew, thy eldest son ; it is the way to 
 preserve you a posterity in the earth. So this 
 match was concluded, and in process Mercy and 
 of time they were married; but more Mattli ew marry, 
 of that hereafter. 
 
 2 Ignatius, a bishop or pastor of a church in Antioch, cruelly 
 martyred for the truth in the second century ; not Ignatius 
 Loyola, the Jesuit. Mr. Bunyan obtained all this information 
 from Foxe’s Book of Martyrs, which was written before Satan 
 had introduced the Jesuits into the world.— (Ed.) 
 
 s * Marriage is honourable in all.’ He. xiii. 4. Notwith¬ 
 standing all the cares of a family, while the married have many 
 troubles, the single have few, if any, real enjoyments of life. 
 The will of our heavenly Father is here enforced upon the 
 pilgrims by Gaius—only let pilgrims be united together, 
 marry in the Lord, and we may expect his blessing to tit us to 
 do his will. Vows of celibacy are from beneath, from the 
 father of lies—contrary to the order of nature, and the ex¬ 
 pressed will of God. ‘ It is not good to be alone.’— (Ed.) 
 
BliA.CKIE & SON, GLASGOW, EDINBURGH AjXiONJjOS. 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 219 
 
 Gaius also proceeded, and said, I will now 
 speak on the behalf of women, to take away their 
 reproach. For as death and the curse came into 
 the world by a woman, Ge. iiL, so also did life and 
 health: ‘God sent forth his Son made of a woman.’ 
 Ga. iv. 4 . Yea, to show how much those that came 
 Why women of after, did abhor the act of the mother, 
 desired, ciiii- this sex, in the Old Testament, co- 
 dreu - voted children, if happily this or that 
 
 woman might be the mother of the Saviour of the 
 world. 
 
 I v ill say again, that when the Saviour was 
 come, women rejoiced in him before either man or 
 angel. Lu. it I read not, that ever any man did 
 give unto Christ so much as one groat; but the 
 women followed him, and ministered to him of 
 their substance. Lu. viii. 2, 3. It was a woman that 
 washed his feet with tears, and a woman that 
 anointed his body to the burial. Lu. vii. 37, 50. Jn. xi. 2 . ; 
 xi \ 3 - TIi ey were women that wept, when he was 
 going to the cross, and women that followed him 
 fi om the cross, and that sat by his sepulchre, when 
 he was buried. Lu. xxiii. 27. Mat. xxvii. 55, 55 , 61 . They 
 " ere women that were first with him at his resur¬ 
 rection-morn; and women that brought tidings 
 first to his disciples, that he was risen from the 
 dead. Lu. xxiv. 22. 23. Women, therefore, are highly 
 favouied, and show by these things that they are 
 sharers with us in the grace of life. 
 
 Now the cook sent up to signify that supper 
 
 Supper ready ^ alm ° St read J’ and 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 fore-runner of the supper, begettetk in me 
 a greater appetite to my food than I had before. 
 Gaius. So let all ministering doctrines to thee, 
 
 What to be * !1 life, beget in thee a greater 
 gathered from desire to sit at the supper of the °Teat 
 
 lavmg of the tx- • t • i • , 1 1 „ ,, ° 
 
 hoard with -tvmg m his kingdom ; for all preach- 
 trenchers. aU<l m S’ books, and ordinances here, are 
 
 but as the laying of the trenchers, 
 and as setting of salt upon the board, when com¬ 
 pared with the feast that our Lord will make for 
 us when we come to his house. 
 
 So supper came up ; 1 and first, a heave-shoulder, 
 and a wave-breast, Le. Yii. 32—34 ; x. 14,15, were set on 
 the table before them, to show that they must 
 begin their meal with prayer and praise to God. 
 i’ 3 . xxv. 1. iie. xiii. 15. The heave-shoulder, David 
 lifted his heart up to God with; and with the 
 
 A dish of millr. 
 
 The different parts of social worship and Christian fellow¬ 
 
 ship are here allegorically described. The heave-shoulder and 
 wave-breast typify the power and love of our great High Priest; 
 that we should devote to him our whole heart, with fervent 
 prayer, and grateful praise. The wine represents the exhilar¬ 
 ating effects of the shedding of Christ’s blood, and its applica- 
 ^ ^ hving faith. The milk is the simple instruction 
 
 o t ie scriptures. The butter aud hoaev are animating views 
 
 wave-breast, where his heart lay, with that ho 
 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. Dc. 32.14. So Gaius said to them’, 
 Dunk fieely , this is the juice of tho true vine, 
 that makes glad the heart of God and man. Ju. ix. 13. 
 Jn. xv. 1. So they drank and were merry. 
 
 The next was a dish of milk well crumbed ; but 
 Gaius said, Let the boys have that, 
 that they may grow thereby. 1 p e . u. 1,2. 
 
 Then they brought up in course a dish of 
 butter and honey. Then said Gaius, of honey a „ a 
 Eat freely of this; for this is good to bulter - 
 cheer up, and strengthen your judgments and 
 ei standing. This, was our Lord’s dish when 
 he was a child: ‘ Butter and honey shall he eat, 
 that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose 
 the good. ’ Is. vii. 15. 
 
 Then they brought them up a dish of apples, 
 and they were very good tasted fruit. 
 
 Then saidMatthew, May we eat apples, A dlsh of apples * 
 since they were such, by, and with which, the 
 serpent beguiled our first mother? 
 
 Then said Gaius— 
 
 Apples were they with which we were beguil’d; 
 
 Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defil’d. 
 
 Apples forbid, if eat, corrupt the blood; 
 
 To eat such, when commanded, does us good. 
 
 Drink of his flagons, then, thou church, his dove. 
 
 And eat his apples, who are sick of love. 
 
 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 pre¬ 
 sented with another dish, and it was a 
 dish of nuts. Ca. vi. H. Then said some A uuh ,/f nUl " 
 at the table, Nuts spoil, tender teeth, especially 
 the teeth of children; which when Gaius heard, 
 he said— 
 
 Hard texts arc nuts (I will not call them cheaters), 
 
 Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters. 
 
 Ope then the shells, and you shall have the meat; 
 
 They here are brought for you to crack and eat. 
 
 Then were they very merry, and sat at the tablo 
 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 : 3 
 
 of God and heavenly joy. The apples are the promises and 
 privileges of Christians (see Ca. ii. 3. Pr. xxv. 11). And the 
 nuts those difficult doctrines, which amply repay us the trouble 
 of penetrating their meaning. Christians so employed have 
 far sweeter enjoyments than they ever had in the mirth, diver¬ 
 sions, and pleasures of the world.—(Scott.) 
 
 J Runyan takes advantage of the co mm on pastime of solving 
 
220 
 
 TTIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 
 SISK? 
 
 A riddle put forfli 
 by Old Honest. 
 
 Gaius opens it. 
 
 Joseph 
 
 A man there was, though some did count 
 him mad, 
 
 The more he cast away, the more he had. 
 
 Then they all gave good heed, wondering what 
 good Gaius would say; so he sat still awhile, and 
 then thus replied:— 
 
 He that bestows his goods upon the poor, 
 
 Shall have as much again, and ten times more. 
 
 Then said Joseph, I dare say, Sir, I did 
 wonders. no t think you could have found it out. 
 
 Oh! said Gains, 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 scattered, and yet increaseth; and 
 there is that withholdeth more than is meet; but 
 it tendeth to poverty. Pr. xL 24 . There is that maketh 
 himself rich, yet hath nothing; there is that maketh 
 himself poor, yet hath great riches.’ 1 Pr. i&. 7 . 
 
 Then Samuel whispered to Christiana, his 
 mother, and said, Mother, this is a veiy 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. 2 
 
 The which Gaius the host overhearing, said, 
 
 With a very good will, my child. 
 
 So they staid there more than a 
 ^ m ercyare mar- month, and Mercy was given to Matthew 
 rie(L to wife. 
 
 While they staid here, Mercy, as her custom 
 was, would be making coats and garments to give 
 to the poor, by which she brought up a very good 
 report upon the Pilgrims. 3 
 
 But to return again to our story. After supper 
 the lads desired a bed; for that they 
 were weary with travelling: then 
 Gaius called to show them their cham¬ 
 ber; but said Mercy, I will have them to bed. 
 So she had them to bed, and they slept well; but 
 the rest sat up all night; for Gaius and they were 
 such suitable company, that they could not tell 
 how to part. Then after much talk of their Loid, 
 themselves, and their journey, old 
 Mr. Honest, he that put forth the 
 
 riddle to Gaius, began to nod. Then said Great- 
 heart, What, Sir, you begin to be drowsy; come, 
 rub up; now here is a riddle for you. Then said 
 Mr. Honest, Let us hear it. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart, 
 
 He that will kill, must first he overcome, 
 
 Who live abroad would, first must die at home. 
 
 A riddle. 
 
 Ila ! 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. 
 
 No, said Gaius, it was put to you, and it is 
 expected that you should answer it. 
 
 Then said the old gentleman, 
 
 He first by grace must conquer’d be. 
 That sin would mortify; 
 
 And who, that lives, would convince me. 
 Unto himself must die. 4 
 
 The riddle 
 opened. 
 
 The hoys go to 
 bed, the rest 
 sit up. 
 
 Old Honest nods. 
 
 riddles, to teach important truth in a way calculated to be 
 impressed on the memory. Thus, in the treatise on the Cove- 
 ants of the Law and Grace, the second Adam was before the 
 first, and also the second covenant before the first. This is a 
 riddle.—(Vol. ii. p. 524 .)—(Ed.) Observe here, the feast of 
 
 pilgrims was attended with mirth. Christians have the greatest 
 reason to be merry; but then it ought to be spiritual mirth, 
 which springs from spiritual views and spiritual conversation. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 1 When Christian intercourse is conducted with gravity 
 and cheerfulness united, it is both pleasant and instructive. 
 Speech should be * always with grace, seasoned with salt, that 
 it may minister grace to the hearers,’ and thus ‘ provoke one 
 another unto love, and to good worksthus are the young 
 
 It is riglit, said Gaius ; good doctrine and expe¬ 
 rience teaches this. For, first, until grace dis¬ 
 plays itself, and overcomes the soul with its glory, 
 it is altogether without heart to oppose sin; be¬ 
 sides, 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 A question 
 two men that went on pilgrimage; the jjrthtii® 
 one began when he was young, the 
 other when he was old. The young man had strong 
 corruptions to grapple with; the old man s were 
 decayed with the decays of nature. The young 
 man trod his steps as even as did the old one, and 
 was every way as light as he. Who now, or which 
 of them, had their graces shining clearest, since 
 
 both seemed to be alike ? 
 
 Hon. The young man’s, doubtless. For that 
 
 which heads it against the greatest A comparisoru 
 
 opposition, gives best demonstration 
 
 that it is strongest; especially when it also holdeth 
 
 encouraged to follow that which is good.'—(Ivimey.) 
 
 2 Here is a genuine discovery of a gracious heart ; 
 
 when it 
 
 is delighted with spiritual company and conversation, and longs 
 for its continuance. Is it so with you P (Mason.) 
 
 » If our love to sinners be only shown by seeking their 
 spiritual good, it will be considered as a bigoted desire to 
 proselyte them to our sect; but uniform diligent endeavours 
 to relieve their temporal wants are intelligible to every man, 
 and bring a good report on the profession of the gospel. Mat. 
 
 v. 16.— (Scott.) . 
 
 4 o, this dying to self, to self-righteous pride, vain confid¬ 
 ence, self-love, and self-complacency, is hard work to the old 
 man; yea, it is both impracticable and impossible to him. it is 
 only grace that can conquer and subdue him; and where grace 
 reigns, this work is earned on day by day. And yet the old 
 | man of sin, and self-righteousness, still lives in us 1—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 221 
 
 pace with that that meets not with half so much ; 
 as, to be sure, old age does not. 1 
 
 Besides, I have observed that old men have 
 blessed themselves with this mistake, 
 a name ]y ? taking the 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 [man] to set out both together, 
 the young one has the advantage of the fairest dis¬ 
 covery of a work of grace within him, though the 
 old man’s corruptions are naturally the weakest. 
 
 Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now, 
 when the family was up, Christiana bid her son 
 James that he should read a chapter; so he read 
 the fifty-third of Isaiah. When he had done, 
 Another qucs- Mr. Honest asked, why it was said 
 tlou - that the Saviour is said to come ‘ out 
 of a dry ground ; ’ and also, that ‘ he had no form 
 or comeliness in him ? ’ 
 
 Great-heart. 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. 2 About a mile from hence, there is one Slay- 
 good, a giant that does much annoy the King’s 
 highway in these parts; and I know whereabout 
 
 Giant Slay-good his liaunt is ; He is master of a 
 shmi l llteci aml imm ^ er thieves; it would be well 
 if we could clear these parts of him. 
 
 So they consented, and went, Mr. Great-heart 
 with his sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest 
 with spears and staves. 3 
 
 When they came to the place where he -was, they 
 found him with one Feeble-mind in his He is found with 
 hands, whom his servants had brought °S.d 
 unto him, having taken him in the hai,d * 
 way. Now the giant was rifling him, with a pur¬ 
 pose, after that, to pick his bones, for he was of 
 the nature of flesli-eaters. 
 
 Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart, and his 
 friends at the mouth of his cave, with their weapons, 
 he demanded what they wanted. * 
 
 Great-heart. We want thee; for we are como 
 to revenge the quarrel of the many that thou hast 
 slain of the pilgrims, when thou hast dragged them 
 out of the King’s highway; wherefore, come out 
 of thy cave. So he armed himself and came out; 
 and to a battle they w r ent, and fought for above an 
 hour, and then stood still to take wind. 
 
 Slay. Then said the giant, Why are you here 
 on my ground ? 
 
 Great-heart. To revenge the blood of pilgrims, 
 as I also told thee before. So they went to it 
 again, and the giant made Mr. Great-heart give 
 back ; but he came up again, and, in the greatness 
 of his mind, he let fly with such stoutness at the 
 giant’s head and sides, that he made him let his 
 weapon fall out of his hand; so he smote him, and 
 slew him, and cut off his head, and brought it 
 away to the inn. He also took Feeble- „ ,, 
 
 mind, the pilgrim, and brought him mind rescued 
 with him to his lodgings. When they ll0mthe ° laut - 
 were come home, they showed his head to the 
 family, and then set it up, as they had done others 
 before, for a terror to those that shall attempt to 
 do as he hereafter. 4 
 
 Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind how he fell 
 into his hands ? 
 
 Feeble-mind. Then said the poor man, I am a 
 sickly man, as you see ; and, because How Feeblc _ 
 death did usually once a day knock at mind came to 
 my door, I thought I should never be b ° a pilgrim ' 
 well at home; so I betook myself to a pilgrim’s 
 life, and have travelled hither from the town of 
 
 1 Old age affords advantage in overcoming some propensi¬ 
 ties, yet habits of indulgence often counterbalance the decays 
 of nature; and avarice, suspicion, and peevishness, with other 
 evils, gather strength as men advance in years. Some old 
 men may imagine that they have renounced sin, because they 
 are no longer capable of committing the crimes in which they 
 once lived.—(Stott.) 
 
 2 The refreshment of Divine consolations, and Christian 
 fellowship, is intended to prepare us for vigorously maintaining 
 the good fight of faith ; not only against the enemies of our 
 own souls, but also against the opposers of our most holy 
 religion. W e are soldiers, and should unite together under 
 the Captain of Salvation, to contend for the faith once delivered 
 to the saints, by every method authorized by the Word of 
 God ; nor must we shrink from danger and contumely in so 
 good a cause.—(Scott.) 
 
 3 It may be asked, how far it is right to expose ourselves to 
 danger and difficulties, since it is rashness, not courage, to 
 expose ourselves to unnecessary danger, or to give unnecessary 
 offence. I would answer, It can never be improper to expose 
 error, or oppose a prevailing vice, by which God’s children are 
 in danger of being beguiled.—(J. B.) 
 
 4 Giant Slay-good represents a wicked, cruel man—a mere 
 cannibal, invested with judicial authority—a selfish, malignant 
 persecutor, who intimidated feeble-minded professors by fines 
 and imprisonments, to the hazard of their souls. By the 
 thieves, of whom he was master, were perhaps intended the 
 common informers, who got their living by giving evideuce 
 against Nonconformists; some cruel magistrates pursued them 
 to death. The attack was by scriptural and rational argu¬ 
 ments, which led to a great alteration in these accursed laws. 
 —(Ivimey and Scott.) 
 
222 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Uncertain, where I and my father were horn. I 
 am a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet 
 of mind; but would, if I could, though I can but 
 craw], spend my life in the pilgrim’s way. 1 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, though none were willing to go so softly 
 as I am forced to do; yet still, as they came on, 
 they bid me be of good cheer, and said that it was 
 the will of their Lord that comfort should be given 
 to the feeble-minded, and so went on their own 
 pace. 1 Th. v. H. When I was come up to Assault 
 Lane, then this giant met with me, and bid me 
 prepare for an encounter; but, alas ! feeble one 
 that I was, I had more need of a cordial. So he 
 came up and took me. I conceited 
 he should not kill me. Also, when he 
 had got me into his den, since I went not with 
 him 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 
 when I can, to go when I cannot run, 
 and to creep when I cannot go. As to the main, 
 I thank him that loves me, I am fixed. My way 
 is before me, my mind is beyond the river that has 
 no bridge, though I am, as you see, but of a feeble 
 mind. 2 
 
 Hon. Then said old Mr. Honest, Have vou not, 
 
 7 %/ 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 1 All pilgrims are not alike vigorous, strong, and lively; 
 some are weak, creep and crawl on, in the ways of the Lord. 
 No matter, if there be but a pilgrim’s heart, all shall be well 
 at last; for Omnipotence itself is for us, and then we may 
 boldly ask, ‘ Who shall be against us?’—(Mason.) Constitu¬ 
 tional timidity and lowness of spirits, arising from a feeble 
 frame, give a peculiar cast to the views and nature of religious 
 profession, which unfits for hard and perilous service. The 
 difference between Feeble-mind and Fearing seems to be this— 
 the former was more afraid of opposition, and the latter more 
 doubtful about the event, which perhaps may intimate, that 
 Slay-good rather represents persecutors than deceivers.—(Scott.) 
 
 2 What a sweet simple relation is here 1 Doth it not suit many 
 a feeble mind ? Poor soul, weak as he was, yet his Lord pro¬ 
 vided against his danger. He sent some strong ones to his 
 deliverance, and to slay his enemy. Mind his belief, even in 
 his utmost extremity. Learn somewhat from this Feeble- 
 mind.—(Mason.) 
 
 some time ago, been acquainted with one Mr. Fear¬ 
 ing, a pilgrim. 
 
 Feeble. Acquainted with him ! Yes; he came 
 from the town of Stupidity, which Mr . Fearin „ Mr< 
 lieth four degrees to the northward of Feeble-mind’s 
 the City of Destruction, and as many 
 off of where I was born; yet we were well ac¬ 
 quainted, for, indeed, he was my uncle, my father’s 
 brother. He and I have been much of a temper. 
 He was a little shorter than I, but yet we were 
 much of a complexion. 
 
 Hon. I perceive you know him; and I am apt 
 to believe also, that you were related Feeble-mind has 
 one to another; for you have his ^arin^ £ 
 whitely look, a cast like his with your tmc3 - 
 eye, and your speech is much alike. 
 
 Feeble. Most have said so that have known 
 us both; and besides, what I have read in him, I 
 have, for the most part, found in myself. 
 
 Gaius. Come, Sir, said good Gaius, be of good 
 cheer, you are welcome to me, and to Gaius comforts 
 my house, and tvhat thou hast a mind him - 
 to, call for freely; and what thou wouldest have 
 my servants do for thee, they will do it with a 
 ready mind. 
 
 Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is unexpected 
 favour, and as the sun shining out of Notic t be 
 a very dark cloud. Did Giant Slay- taken of Pro- 
 good intend me this favour when he vlucmLe * 
 stopped me, and resolved to let me go no further ? 
 Did he intend, that after he had rifled my pockets, 
 I should go to Gaius, mine host ? Yet so it is. 3 
 
 Now, just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were 
 thus in talk, there comes one running, 
 and called at the door, and told that, 
 about a mile and a half off, there was 
 one Mr. Not-right, a pilgrim, struck 
 dead upon the place where he was 
 with a thunder-bolt. 4 
 
 Feeble. 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 
 w r as took to live. 5 
 
 Tidings how one 
 Not-right was 
 slain with a 
 thunderbolt, 
 and Me Feeble- 
 mind’s com¬ 
 ment upon it. 
 
 3 O how sweet to reflect, that the most gigantic enemies 
 shall be conquered, and their most malicious designs be overruled 
 for our good ; yea, what they intend for our ruin shall be made 
 to woi’k for our health and prosperity.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 ‘ Whosoever will save his life shall lose it; and whosoever 
 will lose his life for my sake shall find it.’ Mat. xvi. 25.— (Ed.) 
 Here is a contrast between a feeble believer and a specious 
 hypocrite; the latter eludes persecutions by time-serving, yet 
 perishes in his sins; the former suffers and trembles, yet hopes 
 to be delivered and comforted. The frequency with which this 
 is introduced, and the variety of characters by which it is 
 illustrated, show us how important the author deemed such 
 warnings.—(Scott.) 
 
 5 Events, which at first appear big with misery and mis- 
 
TI1E TILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 223 
 
 Y hat, one would think, doth seek to slay outright, 
 Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight. 
 
 That very providence, whose face is death, 
 
 Both ofttimes to the lowly life bequeath. 
 
 I taken was, he did escape and flee; 
 
 Hands cross’d gives death to him, and life to me. 
 
 xS ou, about tins tunc, Matthew and Mercy were 
 married. Also Gaius gave bis daughter Phebe 
 to James, Matthew s brother, to wife 5 after which 
 time they yet staid above ten days at Gains’ house, 
 spending their time, and the seasons, like as pil¬ 
 grims used to do . 1 
 
 When they were to depart, Gaius made them a 
 The Pilgrims an d they did eat and drink, and 
 
 fonvaJd. 10 g ° were men 7 - Now the hour was come 
 that they must be gone; wherefore, 
 Mr. Great-heart called for a reckoning; but Gaius 
 told him, that at his house it was not the custom 
 for pilgrims to pay for their entertainment. He 
 How they greet boarded them by the year, but looked 
 ™rt?n n g. lher at for llls P a J from the good Samaritan, 
 who had promised him, at his return, 
 whatsoever charge he was at with them, faithfully 
 to repay him. Lu. x. 34, 35. Then said Mr. Great- 
 heart to him. 
 
 Great-heart. ‘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 for¬ 
 ward on their journey after a godly sort, thou 
 shalt do well.’ 3 Jn. 5, 6. 
 
 Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and of 
 Gaius, liis last bis children, an( j particularly of Mr. 
 
 Tecbie- £ mind° Fee ble-mind. IJe also gave him 
 something to drink by the way. 
 
 How 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 fare as 
 the rest. 
 
 Feeble. Alas! I want a suitable companion; 
 
 Teehie-mind for you are all lusty and strong; but I, 
 fcouig behind. as y OU geej am wea k. j c i 100se> there¬ 
 fore, rather to come behind, lest, by reason of my 
 many infirmities, I should be both a burden to 
 myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a 
 weak and feeble mind, and shall be offended and 
 
 II is excuse for it. 
 
 fortune, have been found afterwards to have been as so many 
 oark passages, to lead into brighter and more glorious displays 
 oi the Divine power, wisdom, and goodness.—(J. B.) 
 
 * ‘ Marriage is honourable in allnor will Christian females 
 mid such a state any hinderance to their abounding in works 
 of charity and mercy. By fulfilling the duties of the married 
 lilc, they will cause the ways of God to be well spoken of. 
 J lie desire ol Paul was, ‘ That the younger women marry, be 
 sober, love their husbands, love their children, be discreet, 
 chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, 
 
 t.iat the Word of God be not blasphemed.’ Tit. ii. 4, 5_ 
 
 (Ivimey.) 
 
 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 that which 
 others have 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 can¬ 
 not 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; ’ 
 Job xii. 5), so that I know not what to do . 2 
 
 Great-iieart. But, brother, said Mr. Great-heart, 
 I have it in commission to ‘comfort the Great-heart’s 
 feeble-minded,’ and to ‘support the commission. 
 
 weak.’ 1 Th. v. 14. You must needs go along with 
 us; we will wait for you ; we will lend you our 
 help, Ro. xiv. 1 ; we will deny ourselves of some things, 
 both opinionative and practical, for your sake, 
 
 1 Co. viii., we will not enter into doubtful disputa¬ 
 tions before you; we will be made all things to you, 
 rather than you shall be left behind . 3 1 Co. ix. 22. 
 
 Now all this while they were at Gaius’s door; 
 and behold, as they were thus in the a Christian 
 heat of their discourse, Mr. Keady-to- spmt ‘ 
 halt came by, with his crutches* * in his * Promises, 
 hand, Ps. xxxviii. 17; and he also was going on pil¬ 
 grimage. 
 
 Feeble. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, 
 Man, How earnest thou hither ? I was 
 but just now complaining, that I had toseeReady-to. 
 not a suitable companion, but thou art Lalt come 1,y ‘ 
 according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, good 
 Mr. Ready-to-lialt, I 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 . 4 
 
 Feeble. Nay, said he, though I thank thee for 
 thy goodwill, I am not inclined to halt before I 
 am lame. Ilowbeit, I think, when occasion is, it 
 may help me against a dog . 5 
 
 What an open, ingenuous confession is here! though 
 feeble in mind, he was strong in wisdom and sound judgment. 
 
 (Mason.) Woe he to those who offend one of these little 
 ones; no less dear to God than the most eminent and dis¬ 
 tinguished saints.—(J. B.) 
 
 0 that this were more practised among Christians of dif¬ 
 ferent standings, degrees, and judgments 1 Jf they who are 
 strong were thus to bear with the weak, as they ought, how 
 
 much more love, peace, and unanimity would prevail 1_ 
 
 (Mason.) 
 
 4 Excellent! See the nature of Christian love; even to be 
 ready to spare to a brother, what we ourselves have occasion 
 for Love looketh not at the things of our own, but to pro¬ 
 vide for the wants of others.—(Mason.) 1 
 
 The character of Feeble-mind seems to coincide, in some 
 things, with that of Fearing, and in others with the description 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 224 
 
 Ready. If either myself or my crutches can do 
 thee a pleasure, we are both at thy command, good 
 
 Mr. Feeble-mind. . , 
 
 Thus therefore they went on; Mr. Great-hear 
 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, .. 
 
 Hon. Pray, Sir, now we are upon the road, tel 
 us some profitable things of some that 
 New talk. have gone on pilgrimage before us. 
 
 Great-heart. With a good will. I suppose you 
 FirstPart have heard how Christian of old did 
 P.m. ’ mee t with Apollyon in the Valley of 
 Iumiliation; and also what hard work lie had to 
 m through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
 Llso I think you cannot hut have heard how Faith- 
 *ul was put to it with Madam Wanton, with Adam 
 lie first, with one Discontent, and Shame, four as 
 leceitful villains as a man can meet with upon the 
 
 Hon. Yes, I have heard of all this ; hut indeed, 
 rood Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame; 
 
 be was an unwearied one. . 
 
 Great-heart. Aye; for, as the Pilgrim well said, 
 
 be of all men had the wrong name. . 
 
 IIon. But pray, Sir, where was it that Christian 
 
 FiretPart, and Faithful met Talkative? That 
 p. 120. game was also a notable one. 
 Great-heart. He was a confident fool, yet many 
 
 follow his ways. . 
 
 Hon. He had like to have beguiled 1 aitlitul. 
 
 Great-heart. Aye, hut Christian put him into a 
 Fi „ tPart way quickly to find lnm out. Thus 
 P . 123. ’ they went on till they came at the 
 place where Evangelist met with Christian and 
 Faithful, and prophesied to them of what should 
 
 befall them at Vanity Fair. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said their guide, Hereabouts 
 did Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, 
 who prophesied to them of what troubles they 
 
 should meet with at Vanity Fair. . 
 
 Hon. Say you so? 1 dare say it was a hard 
 
 chapter that then he did read unto them/_ 
 
 them 
 
 gave 
 
 First Part, 
 p. 130. 
 
 little-faith. Constitutional timidity and lowness of spirits, 
 sing from a feeble frame, and frequent sickness, while they 
 frequently the means of exciting men to religion, give also 
 lecuhar cast to their views and the nature of then- pro. ess,on 
 tend to hold them under perpetual discouragements, and 
 fit them for hal'd and perilous services. This seems implied 
 he name given to the native place of leeble-mmd; yet 
 is is often connected with evident sincerity, and remarkable 
 
 rseverance in the ways of God.—(bcott.) 
 i pi ere very ingeniously, an associate is foun for poo 
 oeble-mind; in one equally weak, lame, aud limping m ns 
 Su? sentiments, who, instead of forming his own senti- 
 ents from the Word of Truth, leant upon the sentiments 
 ld opinions of others. The hesitation of leeble-mmd to 
 ■cent 1 one of his cratches, is humourously conceived. He 
 ould weak as he was, think for himself; though lie had no 
 Ejection to quote the opinion of another Christian against an 
 
 Great-heart. It was so; hut he 
 encouragement withal. But what do 
 we talk of them? they were a couple 
 of lion-like men ; they had set their faces like hint. 
 Don’t yon remember how undaunted they were 
 when they stood before the judge? 
 
 Hon. Well, Faithful bravely suffered. 
 Great-heart. So he did, and as brave things 
 came on it; for Hopeful and some others, as the 
 story relates it, were converted by his death. 
 
 Hon. Well, hut pray go on; for yon are well 
 
 acquainted with things. ^ 
 
 Great-heart. Above all that Christian met with 
 
 after he had passed through Vanity First Part, 
 Fair, one By-ends was the arch one. p ‘ 
 
 IIon. By-ends! What was he ? 
 
 Great-heart. A very arch fellow; a downright 
 hypocrite. One that would he religious which way 
 ever the world went; hut so cunning, that he would 
 be sure neither to lose nor suffer for it. He had liis 
 mode of religion for every fresh occasion ; and his 
 wife was as good at it as he. He would turn and 
 change from opinion to opinion; yea, and plead 
 for so doing too. But, so far as I could learn, he 
 came to an ill end with his by-ends ; nor did I ever 
 hear that any of his children were ever of any 
 esteem with any that truly feared God. 
 
 Now, by this time, they were come within sight 
 
 of the town of Vanity, where Vanity They are come 
 Fair is kept. So, when they saw that of 
 
 they were so near the town, they con¬ 
 sulted with one another, how they should pass 
 through the town; and some said one things and 
 some another. At last Mr. Great-heart said, 1 
 have, as you may understand, often been a con¬ 
 ductor of pilgrims through this town; They enter into 
 now 1 am acquainted with one Mr. ^ 
 
 Mnason, a Cyprusian by nation, an 
 old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. Ac. xxi. he 
 If you think good, said he, we will turn in there. 
 
 Content, said old Honest; Content, said Chris¬ 
 tiana; Content, 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; hut 
 Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old man s 
 
 nrlvprsarv _dvimey.) ‘As iron sharpeneth iron, so a man 
 
 sharpenedi the countenance of his friend.’ How great a 
 comfort to find a fellow-pilgrim whose experience agrees wi h 
 our own, and with whom we can take sweet counsel! Sti 1 
 all our dependence must he on Ready-to-halt s crutches- the 
 
 1H Txhe near " prospect of persecution is formidable even to 
 true believers, notwithstanding all the encouragements of God s 
 Word It is useful to realize such scenes, that we may pray, 
 without ceasing, for wisdom, fortitude, patience, meekness 
 faith, and love sufficient for us, should matters come to tne 
 
 * °3 S Hoxfhappy to find a family, in Vanity Fair, whose master 
 will receive and entertain pilgrims. Blessed be God for the 
 ™t revival of religion in our day, and for the many houses 
 that are open to friends of the Lamb. (Maso^.) 
 
TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 225 
 
 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 Gaius 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. 
 
 Great-heart. Thensaid their guide, Come, what 
 
 They are glad 0 f cheer, Sirs ? I dare say you are wel- 
 entertainment. come to my friend. 
 
 Mnason. I also, said Mr. Mnason, do bid you 
 'welcome, and, whatever you want, do but say, and 
 we will do what we can to get it for you. 
 
 IIox. Our great want, a while since, was har¬ 
 bour and good company, and now I hope we have 
 both. 
 
 Mnason. For harbour, you see what it is; but 
 for good company, that will appear in the trial. 
 
 Great-heart. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will 
 you have the Pilgrims up into their lodging? 
 
 Mnason. I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he had 
 them to their respective places; and also showed 
 them a very fair dining-room, where they might 
 be, and sup together, until time was come to go 
 to rest. 
 
 Now, when they were set in their places, and 
 were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest 
 asked his landlord, if there were any store of good 
 people in the town? 
 
 Mnason. W e have a few, for indeed they are 
 
 but a few, when compared with them on the other 
 side. 
 
 Hon. But how shall we do to see some of them? 
 They desire to for the sight of good men to them that 
 
 good people of are g oin g on pilgrimage, is like to the 
 the town. appearing of the moon and the stars 
 to them that are sailing upon the seas. 1 
 
 Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and 
 his daughter Grace came up; so he said unto her. 
 
 Some sent for. ^ raC< ? »° ^ 0U ’ tel1 m J frien ds, 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. 
 
 The inquiry of disciples, after suitable company, discovers 
 that they, with David, love the Lord’s saints; and in the 
 excellent of the earth is all their delight. Ps. xvi. 3. A genuine 
 discovery this of a gracious heart.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 Great, indeed, was the change in the town of Vanity, 
 when Christiana and her party of pilgrims arrived, compared 
 with the but recent period when Faithful was martyred. The 
 declaration of liberty of conscience had rendered the profes- 
 Mon ot vital godliness more public, still there was persecution 
 enough to make it comparatively pure. Dr. Cheever has 
 indulged in a delightful reverie, iu his lecture ou Vanity Fair, 
 y supposing, at some length, how our glorious dreamer would 
 now describe the face of society in our present Vanity Fair. 
 
 iter describing the consequences that had arisen from religion 
 having become fashionable, he hints at the retrograde 
 movement towards Popery, known under the name of Puseyism 
 VOL. HI. 
 
 So Grace went to call them, and they came; 
 and, after salutation made, they sat down together 
 at the table. 
 
 Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord, My neigh¬ 
 bours, I have, as you see, a company of strangers 
 come to my house; they are Pilgrims; they come 
 from afar, and are going to mount Zion. 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 comfortable 
 surprise. Then they asked her of her welfare, and 
 if these young men were her husband’s sons ? And 
 when she had told them they were, they said, The 
 King whom you love and serve, make you as 
 your father, and bring you where he is in peace! 
 
 Hon. Then Mr. Honest (when they were all sat 
 down) asked Mr. Contrite, and the c t . 
 
 rest, m wnat posture their town was Mr. Honest and 
 at present? Contrite. 
 
 Contrite. You may be sure we arc full of hurry 
 in fair-time. It is hard keeping our hearts and 
 spirits in any good order, when we are in a cum¬ 
 bered condition. He that lives in such The fruifc of 
 a place as this is, and that has to do watchfulness, 
 with such as we have, has need of an item, to cau¬ 
 tion him to take heed, every moment of the day. 
 
 Hon. But how are your neighbours for quietness ? 
 
 Contrite. They are much more moderate now 
 than formerly. You know how Chris¬ 
 tian and Faithful were used at our ^ohoutVanTy 
 town; but of late, I say, they have fairasformerl y- 
 been far more moderate. I think the blood of 
 Faithful lieth with load upon them till now; for 
 since they burned him, they have been ashamed 
 to burn any more. In those days we were afraid 
 to walk the streets, but now we can show our heads. 
 Then the name of a professor was odious ; now, 
 especially in some parts of our town (for you know 
 our town is large), religion is counted honourable . 2 
 
 It happened, in process of time, that a part of the pilgrims 
 who remained in Vanity Fair, began to visit the cave of Giant 
 Pope, and it became a sort of fashionable pilgrimage to that 
 cave. They brushed up the giant, and gave him medicines to 
 alleviate the hurts from those bruises which he had received 
 in his youth ; and, to make the place pleasanter, they carefully 
 cleared away the remains of the bones and skulls of burned 
 pilgrims, and planted a large enclosure with flowers and ever¬ 
 greens.’ ‘ The cage in which the Pilgrims were once confined 
 was now never used; some said it was consecrated for church 
 purposes, aud put under the cathedral, in a deep cell, from 
 which it might again be brought forth if occasion required it * 
 I he Doctor’s description of the present state of Vanity Fair is 
 very deeply interesting and amusing.— (Ed.) When reli uou 
 is counted honourable, we shall not want professors • °but 
 trying times are sifting times. As the chaiF flies before the 
 
 wind, so will the formal professors before a storm of persecu¬ 
 tion.—(J. B.) 1 
 
 39 
 
226 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. - 
 
 Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how fareth 
 it with you in your pilgrimage? How stands the 
 country affected towards you? 
 
 Hon. It happens to us as it liappeneth to way¬ 
 faring men; sometimes our way is clean, some¬ 
 times foul, sometimes up hill, sometimes down hill; 
 we are seldom at a certainty; the wind is not 
 always on our hacks, 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. 
 
 Contrite. You talk of rubs ; what rubs have 
 you met withal ? 
 
 Hon. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, our guide, for 
 he can give the best account of that. 
 
 Great-heart. 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 were beset with Giant 
 Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and Giant Slay-good. 
 Indeed we did rather beset the last, than were 
 beset of him. And thus it was: After we had been 
 some time at the house of ‘ Gaius, mine host, and 
 of the whole church,’ Ro. xvi. 23, we were minded 
 upon a time to take our weapons with us, and so 
 go see if we could light upon any of those that 
 were enemies to pilgrims (for we heard that there 
 was a notable one thereabouts). Now Gaius knew 
 his haunt better than I, because he dwelt there¬ 
 about ; so we looked, and looked, till at last we 
 discerned tbe mouth of his cave; then we were 
 glad, and plucked up aur spirits. So we ap¬ 
 proached up to his den, and lo, when we came 
 there, he had dragged, by mere force, into his net, 
 this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and was about to 
 bring him to his end. But when he saw us, sup¬ 
 posing, 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. 
 
 Feeble-mind. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I 
 found this true, to my cost, and comfort; to my 
 cost, when he threatened to pick my bones every 
 moment; and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. 
 Great-heart 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 Mr. Holy-man’s 
 possessed with, that go on pilgrimage; speech ' 
 courage, and an unspotted life. If they have not 
 courage, they can never hold on their way; and if 
 their lives be loose, they will make the very name 
 of a Pilgrim stink. 
 
 Love-saint. Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope 
 this caution is not needful amongst Mr. Love-saint’s 
 you. But truly, there are many that speech - 
 go upon the road, that rather declare themselves 
 strangers to pilgrimage, than strangers and pil¬ 
 grims in the earth. 
 
 Dare-not-lie. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, It is 
 true, they neither have the pilgrim s Mr. Dare-not¬ 
 weed, nor the pilgrim’s courage ; they . he ’ s speech - 
 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. 
 
 Penitent. These things, said Mr. Penitent, 
 they ought to be troubled for ; nor are Mr. Penitent’s 
 the pilgrims like to have that grace speech ' 
 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 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 bel¬ 
 lies and backs blessed her, and she was there an 
 ornament to her profession. 1 And, to say the 
 truth for Grace, Phebe, and Martha, they were all 
 of a very good nature, and did much good in their 
 place. They were also all of them very fruitful ; 
 so that Christian’s name, as was said before, was 
 
 like to live in the world. 
 
 While they lay here, there came a monster out 
 of the woods, and slew many of the Amocster> 
 people of the town. It would also 
 carry away their children, and teach them to suck 
 its whelps. 2 Now, no man in the town duist so 
 
 1 Kindness to tlie poor increases and builds up tbe church. 
 It conquers the prejudices of the worldly, secures their confi¬ 
 dence, and brings them under the preaching of the gospel. 
 They rationally conclude that they cannot be bad people who 
 do so much good.—(Iviinev.) 
 
 2 This monster is Antichrist. The devil is the head; the syna- 
 gogne'of Satan is the body; the wicked spirit of iniquity is the 
 soul. The devil tfiade use of the church [the clergy] to midwife 
 this monster into the world. He had plums in his dragon s 
 mouth, and so came in by flatteries. He metamorphosed himsel 
 into a besist, a man, or woman; and the inhabitants ot the world 
 loved the woman dearly, became her sons, and took up helmet 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 227 
 
 much as face this monster; but all men fled when 
 they heard of the noise of his cominsr. 
 
 The monster was like unto no one beast upon 
 His shape, his the earth ; its body was like a dragon, 
 nature. and it had seven heads and ten horns. 
 Re. xvii. 3 . It made great havoc of children, and 
 yet it was governed by a woman . * 1 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 . 2 
 
 Now this Mr. Great-heart, together with these 
 that came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason’s 
 house, entered into a covenant to c;o and en^a^e 
 
 O O O 
 
 this beast, if perhaps they might deliver the people 
 of this town from the paws and mouth of this so 
 devouring a serpent. 
 
 Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. 
 How he is en- Holy-man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. 
 
 gaged. Penitent, with their weapons go forth 
 to meet him. Now the monster, at first,was very 
 rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great 
 disdain ; but they so belaboured him, being sturdy 
 men at arms, that they made him make a retreat; 
 so they came home to Mr. Mnason’s house again. 
 
 The monster, you must know, had his 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 ; inso¬ 
 much, that in process of time he became not only 
 wounded, but lame; also he has not made that 
 havoc of the townsmen’s children, as formerly he 
 has done. And it is verily believed by some, that 
 this beast will die of his wounds . 3 
 
 This, therefore, made Mr. Great-heart and his 
 
 and shield to defend her. She arrayed herself in flesh-taking 
 ornaments—gold, and precious stones, like an harlot. She 
 made the kings drunken, and they gave her the blood of saints 
 aud martyrs until she was drunken, and did revel and roar. 
 But when her cup is drunk out, God will call her to such a 
 reckoning, that all her clothes, pearls, and jewels shall not be 
 able to pay the shot. This beast is compared to the wild 
 boar that comes out of the wood to devour the church of God. 
 Ps. lxxx. 13. The temporal sword will kill its body, but spirit 
 can only be slain by spirit; the Lord the Spirit will slay its 
 soul.—(Bunyan on Antichrist , vol. ii. p. 47.) Is not Anti¬ 
 christ composed of all the State religions in the world ?— (Ed.) 
 
 1 For this woman’s name and costume see Re. xvii. 1—4. 
 She has just sent one of her illegitimate sons to England,, under 
 the impudent assumption of Archbishop of Westminster.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 And that you may be convinced of the truth of this, look 
 back and compare Antichrist four hundred years ago, with 
 Antichrist as he now is, and you shall see what work the Lord 
 Jesus has begun to make with him; kingdoms and countries 
 
 he hath taken from her. True, the fogs of Antichrist, aud the 
 smoke that came with him out of the bottomless pit, has 
 eclipsed the glorious light of the gospel; but you know, in 
 eclipses, when they are recovering, all the creatures upon the 
 
 face of the earth cannot put a stop to that course, until the sun 
 or the moon have recovered their glory. Aud thus it shall be 
 
 now, the Lord is returning to visit this people with his primi¬ 
 
 tive lustre; he will not go back until the light of the sun shall 
 be sevenfold.—(Bunyan’s Antichrist and his Ruin , vol. ii. 
 p. 48.) 
 
 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. 4 
 Upon this account therefore it was, that these 
 pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there 
 were some of the baser sort, that could see no 
 more than a mole, nor understand more than a 
 beast; these had no reverence for these men, nor 
 took they notice of their valour or adventures. 5 
 
 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 con¬ 
 ferred with them; they had some time set apart, 
 therein to commit each other to the protection of 
 their Prince. There were again, that brought 
 them of 3 uch things as they had, that were fit for 
 the weak and the strong, for the women and the 
 men, and so laded them with such things as wero 
 necessary. Ac. xxviii. 10. 
 
 Then they set forward on their way ; and their 
 friends accompanying them so far as was conven¬ 
 ient, they again committed each other to the pro¬ 
 tection of their King, and parted. 
 
 They, therefore, that were of the Pilgrims’ com¬ 
 pany 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. 6 
 
 They went on, therefore, after this, a good way 
 
 3 When nations have restored to the people the property 
 of which they have been plundered, under the pretence of 
 assisting to obtain the pardo u of sin and the favour of God, 
 the monster will soon die; when neither rule, nor honour, 
 nor pelf is to be gained by hypocrisy. —(Ed.) 
 
 4 This may refer to that noble band of eminent men who, 
 in 1675, preached the morning exercises against Popery; 
 among others were Owen, Manton, Baxter, Doolittle, Jeukyn, 
 Poole, and many others. They were then, and ever will be, 
 of great fame.— (Ed.) 
 
 0 The plans of Charles II. and James II., to re-establish 
 Popery in England, were defeated by the union of the eminent 
 Nonconformists with some decided enemies to Rome in the 
 Established Church; this brought them into esteem aud respect. 
 Mr. Scott’s note on this passage is—‘ The disinterested, and 
 bold decided conduct of many dissenters, on this occasion, pro¬ 
 cured considerable favour both to them and their brethren, with 
 the best friends of the nation; but the prejudices of others 
 prevented them from reaping all the advantage from it that 
 they ought to have done.’— (Ed.) 
 
 u David Hume, in his History of England , admitted the 
 invaluable services of the Puritans, * By whom the precious 
 spark of liberty was kindled and preserved, and to whom the 
 English owe all the blessings of their excellent constitution/ 
 -(Ed.) 
 
233 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 further, talking of Christian and Faithful; and 
 how Hopeful joined himself to Christian after that 
 Faithful was dead. 
 
 Now they were come up with the Hill Lucre, 
 First Part, where the silver mine was, which took 
 
 p. io6. Demas off from his pilgrimage, and 
 into which, as some think, By-ends fell and per¬ 
 ished ; wherefore thev 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 were, should be so blinded as to turn 
 aside here. Only they considered again, that 
 nature is not affected with the harms that others 
 have met with, especially if that thing upon which 
 they look, has an attracting virtue upon the foolish 
 eve. 
 
 I saw now that they went on, till they came at 
 First Part, the river that was on this side of the 
 
 p. io 3 . Delectable Mountains. 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. Ps. xxiii. 
 
 By this river side, in the meadow, there were 
 cotes and folds for sheep, a house built for the 
 nourishing and bringing up of those lambs, the 
 babes of those women that go on pilgrimage, iie.v.2. 
 Also there was here one that was intrusted with 
 them, who could have compassion, and that could 
 gather these lambs with his arm, and carry them 
 in his bosom, and that could gently lead those that 
 were with young, is. xi. 11. Now to the cape of this 
 man, Christiana admonished her four daughters to 
 commit their little ones, that by these waters they 
 might be housed, harboured, succoured, and nour¬ 
 ished, 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. Eze. xxxiv. n-ic>. Here 
 they will never want meat, and drink, and clothing; 
 here they will be kept from thieves and robbers ; 
 for this Man will die before one of those committed 
 to his trust shall be lost. j e . xxiii. 4. Besides, here 
 they shall be sure to have good nurture and ad¬ 
 monition, and shall be taught to walk in right 
 paths, and that you know is a favour of no small 
 account. Also here, as you see, are delicate waters, 
 
 1 This is a most encouraging view of the tender care of the 
 Saviour, to the children of believers committed to his care, by 
 godly parents. Not by any ceremonial observance, hut by con¬ 
 stant ferveut supplications to the throne of grace on their behalf, 
 and by a consistent pious example to train them up in the way 
 in which they should go, that when they are old they should 
 not depart from the new and living way.—(E d.) 
 
 pleasant meadows, dainty flowers, variety of trees, 
 and such as bear wholesome fruit; fruit not like 
 that that Matthew ate of, that fell over the Avail 
 out of Beelzebub’s garden ; but fruit that pro- 
 cureth health where there is none, and that con- 
 tinueth and increaseth it where it is. 2 
 
 So they were content to commit their little ones 
 to him; and that which was also an encourage¬ 
 ment to them so to do, was, for that all this was 
 to be at the charge of the King, and so was as ail 
 hospital for young children and orphans. 
 
 Now they went on; and when they were come 
 to By-path Meadow, to the stile over pirst Part 
 which Christian went with his fellow P- 138 - 
 Hopeful, when they were taken by T heybeuig come 
 Giant Despair, and put into Doubting have a mind to 
 Castle ; they sat down and consulted with Giaut'ue- 
 wliat was best to be done; to wit, spair> 
 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 contrary. One questioned if it was 
 lawful to go upon unconsecrated ground; another 
 said they might, provided their end was good; but 
 Mr. Great heart said, Though that assertion offered 
 last cannot be universally true, yet I have a com¬ 
 mandment to resist sin, to overcome evil, to fight 
 the good fight of faith; and, I pray, with whom 
 should I fight this good fight, if not with Giant 
 Despair ? I will, therefore, attempt the taking 
 away of his life, and the demolishing of Doubting 
 Castle. Then said he, Who will go with me ? 
 Then said old Honest, I will. And so will we 
 too, said Christiana’s four sons, Matthew, Samuel, 
 James, and Joseph; for they were young men and 
 strong. 1 Jn. in. 13 , 14. 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 though 
 Giant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the 
 road, a little child might lead them. is. xi. 6. 
 
 So Mr. Great-heart, old Honest, and the' four 
 young men, went to go up to Doubting Castle, to 
 look for Giant Despair. When they came at the 
 Castle-gate, they knocked for entrance with an 
 unusual noise. 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, a 3 
 after this manner to molest the Giant Despair ? 
 
 2 Here we frequently find our author speaking of our God 
 and Saviour as man; he excels in this. It is to be wished 
 that authors and preachers wrote and spake of the manhood 
 of Jesus, who was a perfect man, like unto us in all things 
 except sin. The view and consideration of this is sweet to 
 faith, and endears our Saviour to our hearts.—(Mason.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 221) 
 
 Mr. Great-heart replied, It is I, Great-heart, one 
 of the King of the Celestial Country’s conduc¬ 
 tors of pilgrims to their place; and I demand of 
 thee that thou open thy gates for my entrance. 
 Prepare thyself also to fight, for I am come to 
 take away thy head, and to demolish Doubting 
 Castle. 
 
 Now Giant Despair, because he was a giant, 
 Despair has over- thought no man could overcome him ; 
 
 come angels. ant | > a g a j n> thought lie, since here¬ 
 tofore I have made a conquest of angels, shall 
 Great-heart make me afraid ! So he harnessed 
 himself, and went out. He had a cap of steel upon 
 his head, a breast-plate of fire girded to him, and 
 he came out in iron shoes with a great club in his 
 hand. Then these six men made up to him, and 
 beset him behind and before. Also when Diffi¬ 
 dence, the giantess, came up to help him, old Mr. 
 Honest cut her down at one blow. Then they 
 fought for their lives, and Giant Despair was 
 Despair is loath brought down to the ground, but was 
 very loath to die. He struggled hard, 
 and had, as they say, as many lives as a cat; but 
 Great-heart was his death, for he left him not till 
 he had severed his head from his shoulders. 1 
 
 Then they fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, 
 Doubting Castle that you know might with ease be 
 demolished. done, s i nce Giant Despair was dead. 
 
 They were seven days in destroying of that; and 
 in it of pilgrims they found one Mr. Despondency, 
 almost starved to death, and one Much-afraid, his 
 daughter; these two they saved alive. But it 
 would have made you a-wondered to have seen the 
 dead bodies that lay here and there in the castle- 
 yard, and how full of dead men’s bones the 
 dungeon was. 
 
 M hen Mr. Great-heart and his companions had 
 performed this exploit, they took Mr. Despondency, 
 and his daughter Much-afraid, into their protec¬ 
 tion; for they were honest people, though they 
 were prisoners in Doubting Castle, to that tyrant 
 Giant Despair. They, therefore, I say, took with 
 them the head of the Giant, for his body they had 
 buried under a heap of stones, and down to the 
 
 1 W hat cannot Great-heart do ? what feats not perform ? 
 what victories not gain ? Who can stand before Great-heart ? 
 Diffidence shall fall, and Giant Despair be slain by the power 
 of Great-heart, with ‘ the sword of the Spirit, which is the 
 ord of God,’ Eph. vi. 17 ; even Despondency, though almost 
 starved, shall be delivered, and his daughter Much-afraid shall 
 be rescued. O for more of Great-heart’s company !—(Mason.) 
 The struggle with Despair may be dangerous, and painful, and 
 long-continued, but it shall be finally successful. ‘ I am per¬ 
 suaded,’ saith the apostle, ‘that neither death, nor life, nor 
 angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
 things to come, nor heighth, nor depth, nor any other creature, 
 shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in 
 Christ Jesus our Lord.’ Paul demolished the castle, and slew 
 the giant; but, 
 
 * Sin can rebuild the castle, make’t remain, 
 
 Aud make Despair the Giant live again.’— Ed. 
 
 road and to their companions they came, and showed 
 
 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 . 2 Now Christiana, if need was, could 
 
 play upon the viol, and her daughter mt , 
 
 AT ,, , . . ° , They have music 
 
 xviercy upon the lute; so, since they and dancing 
 
 were so merry disposed, she played forl ° y ' 
 them a lesson, and Ready-to-halt would dance. 
 So he took Despondency’s daughter, named Much- 
 afraid, by the hand, and to dancing they went in 
 the road. True, he could not d&nce without one 
 crutch in his hand; but, I promise you, he footed 
 it well. Also the girl was to be commended, for 
 she answered the music handsomely. 
 
 As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not 
 much to him; he was for feeding rather than 
 dancing, for that he was almost starved. So 
 Christiana gave him some of her bottle of spirits, 
 for present relief, and then prepared him some¬ 
 thing to eat; and, in little time, the old gentleman 
 came to himself, and began to he finely revived. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, when all these things 
 were finished, Mr. Great-heart took the head of 
 Giant Despair, and set it upon a pole by the high¬ 
 way side, right over against the pillar that Chris¬ 
 tian erected for a caution to pilgrims that camo 
 after, to take heed of entering into his grounds . 3 
 
 Though Doubting Castle be demolish’d. 
 
 And the Giant Despair hath lost his head, 
 
 Sin can rebuild the Castle, make’t remain. 
 
 And make Despair the Giant live again. 
 
 Then he writ under it, upon a marble stone, 
 these verses following: 
 
 o 
 
 This the head of him, whose name only 
 In former times did pilgrims terrify. 
 
 His Castle’s down; and Diffidence, his wife, 
 
 Brave Master Great-heart has bereft of life. 
 
 Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid, Amomunentof 
 Great-heart for them also the man has play’d; deliverance. 
 Who hereof doubts, if he’ll hut cast his eye 
 Up hither, may his scruples satisfy. 
 
 This head also, when doubting cripples dance, 
 
 Doth show from fears they have deliverance. 
 
 2 How well does Mr. Bunyan describe the experience of the 
 Much-afraids, Ready-to-halts, and the Feeble-minds, in the 
 Come and Welcome. ‘ Poor coming soul, thou art like the 
 man that would ride full gallop, whose horse will hardly trot! 
 Now, the desire of his mind is not to he judged of by the slow 
 pace of the dull jade he rides on, but by the hitching, and kick¬ 
 ing, and spurring, as he sits on his back. Thy flesh is like 
 this dull jade ; it will not gallop after Clu’ist, it will be back¬ 
 ward, though thy soul and heaven lie at stake. But be of 
 good comfort, Christ judgeth according to the sincerity of the 
 heart.’—(Vol. i. p. 252.) 
 
 3 This is the work and aim of every faithful minister of 
 Christ, to destroy Giant Despair, and demolish Doubting 
 Castle, in the hearts of God’s children. A more awful character 
 is not in the world, than the man who assumes the ministerial 
 name and character, without understanding the nature of that 
 ministry of reconciliation which is committed to every one 
 who is really called aud sent of God.—(J. B.) 
 
230 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 When these men had thus bravely showed them¬ 
 selves 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 
 themselves with the shepherds there, who welcomed 
 them, as they had done Christian before, unto the 
 Delectable Mountains. 
 
 Now the Shepherds, seeing so great a train follow 
 Mr. Great-heart, for with him they were well 
 acquainted, they said unto him, Good Sir, you 
 have got a goodly company here. Pray, where 
 did you find all these ? 
 
 Then Mr. Great-heart replied: 
 
 First, here is Christiana and her train, 
 
 Her sons, and her sons’ wives, who like the wain, * 1 , 
 Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer, 
 
 From sin to grace, else they had not been here; 
 The Guide’s Next, here’s old Honest come on pilgrimage, 
 S fclieplierds^ e Ready-to-halt, too, who, I dare engage, 
 True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, 
 
 Who willing w r as not to be left behind; 
 Despondency, good man, is coming after, 
 
 And so also is Much-afraid his daughter. 
 
 May we have entertainment here, or must 
 We further go ? Let’s know whereon to trust. 
 
 Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable 
 
 Their entertain- company. You are welcome to us, 
 ment. f or we ] ia ve [comfort] for the feeble as 
 for the strong. Our Prince has an eye to what 
 is done to the least of these 1 ; therefore infirmity 
 must not be a block to our entertainment. Mat. xxv. 40. 
 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.Despondency, 1 
 and Mrs. Much-afraid, his daughter. 2 These, Mr. 
 Great-heart, said the Shepherds to the guide, we 
 call in by name, for that they are most subject to : 
 draw back; but as for you, and the rest that are ! 
 strong, we leave you to your wonted liberty. Then 
 said Mr. Great-heart, This day I see that grace 
 doth shine in your faces, and that you are my 
 
 A description lord’s Shepherds indeed; for that you 
 
 of false siiep- have not pushed these diseased neither 
 herds. 
 
 with side nor shoulder, but have 
 rather strewed their way into the palace with 
 flowers, as you should. 3 Eze. xxxiv. 21. 
 
 1 ‘ The wain,’ seven bright stars in the constellation of Ursa 
 Major, called by country people, the plough, or the wain, or 
 Charles I/s chariot.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Those ministers who exercise the greatest affection towards 
 weak and upright Christians, are most according to the 
 description of pastors, after God’s own heart, given in the 
 Scriptures of truth.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 Bunyan was peculiarly tender with the weak ; they are 
 to be received, but not to doubtful disputations. Thus, with 
 regard to the great cause of separation among Christians, 
 he says, ‘If water-baptism’ (whether by sprinkling of infants, 
 or immersing of adults) ‘ trouble their peace, wound the con¬ 
 sciences of the godly, and dismember their fellowships, it is, 
 
 So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great- 
 heart and tlie rest did follow. When they were 
 also set down, the Shepherds said to those of the 
 weaker sort, What is it that you would have ? for, 
 said they, all things must be managed here to the 
 supporting of the weak, as well as the warning of 
 the unruly. 
 
 So they made them a feast of things easy of 
 digestion, and that were pleasant to the palate, 
 and nourishing; the which, when they had received, 
 they went to their rest, each one respectively unto 
 his proper place. When morning was come, be¬ 
 cause the mountains were high, and the day clear, 
 and because it was the custom of the Shepherds to 
 show to the Pilgrims, before their departure, some 
 rarities ; 4 therefore, after they were ready, and had 
 refreshed themselves, the Shepherds took them out 
 into the fields, and showed them first what they 
 had showed to Christian before. 
 
 Then they had them to some new places. The 
 first was to Mount Marvel, where they 
 
 .. Mount Marvel. 
 
 looked, and beheld a man at a dis¬ 
 
 tance, that tumbled the hills about with words. 
 Then they asked the Shepherds what that should 
 mean ? So they told them, 'that that man was 
 a son of one Great-grace, of whom you read in the 
 First Part of the Records of the Pil- First Part, 
 grim’s Progress. And he is set there P- 149 - 
 to teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble 
 out of their way, what difficulties they shall meet 
 with, by faith . 5 6 Mar. xi. 23, 24. Then said Mr. Great- 
 heart, I know him. He is a man above many. 
 
 Then they had them to another place, called 
 Mount Innocent; and there they saw Mount 
 
 a man clothed all in white, and two i QI10cei:it - 
 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 garments would look as clear as if no dirt had 
 been cast thereat. 
 
 although an ordinance, for the present to be prudently shunned, 
 for the edification of the church.’ ‘ Love is more discovered 
 when we receive, for the sake of Christ, than when we refuse 
 his children for want of water.’—(Bunyan on Baptism , vol. ii. 
 p. 608.) When will such peaceful sentiments spread over the 
 church?— (Ed.) 
 
 i There are things taught by the gospel, here called ‘rarities,’ 
 which, though high and mysterious, will yet, when clearly 
 
 stated, prove the means of exciting Christians to live by faith, 
 
 and to cultivate whatsoever things are lovely and of good 
 
 report.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 5 Strong faith, in the words of Christ, will ‘ believe down ’ 
 mountains of afflictions, or tumble them out of the Christian s 
 way. Though it will not perform miracles, it will remove 
 difficulties resembling mountains.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 6 The history of Joseph, with that of Mr. Bunyan, and of 
 thousands besid*es, proves, that charges against a godly, inno¬ 
 cent man, arising from the prejudice, ill-will, and malice of his 
 enemies, shall eventually turn out to his honour, and to their 
 confusion. ‘ Blessed are ye when men shall revile you, and 
 persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you 
 falsely, for my sake.’ Mat. v. 11 .—(Ed.) 
 
THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 231 
 
 Then said the Pilgrims, What means this ? Tho 
 Shepherds answered, This man is named Godly- 
 man, and this garment is to show the innocency of 
 his life. Now, those that throw dirt at him, are 
 such as hate his well-doing; hut, as you see the 
 dirt will not stick upon his clothes, so it shall he 
 with h im that livetli truly innocently in the world. 
 Whoever they he that would make such men dirty, 
 they labour all in vain; for God, hy 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 
 
 Mount cWity ^firity, where they showed them a 
 man that had a bundle of cloth lying 
 before him, out of which lie cut coats and garments 
 for the poor that stood about him; yet his bundle 
 or roll of cloth was never the less. 
 
 Then said they, What should this be ? This is, 
 said the Shepherds, to show you, that he that has 
 a heart to give of his labour to the poor, shall 
 never want wherewithal. He that watereth shall 
 be watered himself. And the cake that the widow 
 gave to the prophet did not cause that she had 
 ever the less in her barrel. 
 
 They had them also to a place where they saw 
 
 ihe work of one one F ° o1 ’ and one Want-wit, washing 
 
 fool, and one of an Ethiopian, with intention to 
 Want- vat. . . . . * , . 
 
 make him white; but the 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 a one a good 
 name shall, in conclusion, tend but to make &m 
 more abominable. Thus it was with the Pharisees, 
 and so shall it be with all hypocrites. 1 
 
 Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Chris- 
 
 Mtrry has a * iana > ^ ier mother, Mother, I would, if 
 miiid to sec it might be, see the hole in the hill, or 
 the hid. that commonly called the by-w : ay to 
 
 FirstPart, hell. So her mother brake her mind 
 to the Shepherds. Then they went 
 to the door. It was in the side of a hill, and 
 they opened it, and bid Mercy hearken awhile. So 
 she hearkened, and heard one saying, Cursed be 
 
 1 This represents the folly of those who go about to reform 
 the manners, without aiming at the conversion of the heart. 
 Nature, in its highest state of cultivation and improvement, is 
 nature still. That which is bora of the flesh is flesh, and that 
 which is bora of the Spirit is spirit.—(J. 15.) 
 
 2 O, damned souls will have thoughts that will clash with 
 glory, clash with justice, clash with law, clash with itself, clash 
 with hell, and with the everlastingness of misery; but the 
 point, the edge, and the poison of all these thoughts will still 
 be galling, and dropping their stings into the sore, grieved, 
 wounded, fretted place, which is the conscience, though not 
 the conscicuce only; for 1 may say of the souls in hell, that 
 they, all over, are but one wound, one sore.—(Bunyan’s Great¬ 
 ness of the Soul , vol. i. p. 11 6 .) Well might Mercy say, 
 
 ‘ Blessed arc they that are delivered from this place!’—(Em) 
 
 my father, for holding of my feet back from the 
 way of peace and life; and another said, 0 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 w r as as if 
 the very earth had groaned and quaked under tho 
 feet of this young woman for fear. So she looked 
 white, and came trembling away, saying, Blessed 
 be he and she that are delivered from this 
 place . 2 
 
 Now when the Shepherds had shown them all 
 these things, then they had them back to the 
 palace, and entertained them with what the house 
 would afford. But Mercy being a young and 
 breeding woman, longed for some- Mercv lonsreth( 
 thing that she saw there, but w r as and for what, 
 ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then asked 
 her what she ailed ; for she looked as one not well. 
 Then said Mercy, There is a looking-glass hangs 
 up in the dining-room, off which I cannot take 
 my mind: if, therefore, I have it not, I think I 
 shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I will 
 mention thy w r ants 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 it was die Word 
 features exactly, Ja. i. 23 ; and, turn it of God ‘ 
 but another way, and it would show one the very 
 face and similitude of the Prince of Pilgrims him¬ 
 self. l Co. xiii. 12. Yea, I have talked with them 
 that can tell, and they have said, that they have 
 seen the very crown of thorns upon his head, by 
 looking in that glass; they have therein also seen 
 the holes in his hands, in his feet, and his side. 
 
 2 Co. iii. is. Yea, such an excellency is there in 
 that glass, that it will show' him to one where they 
 have a mind to see him; wdiether living or dead; 
 whether in earth or heaven; whether in a state of 
 humiliation, or in his exaltation; wdiether coming 
 to suffer, or coming to reign. a 
 
 Christiana, therefore, -went to the Shepherds 
 
 2 0 what a blessed thing it is to long for the Word of God 
 so as not to be satisfied without it, and to prize it above and 
 beyond all other things 1 Love to the Word excites the soul 
 to say with David, ‘ I have longed for thy salvation, O Lord.’ 
 Ps. cxix. 174. This is a special mark of a gracious soul.— 
 (Mason.) Every true believer longs to be more completely 
 acquainted with the Scriptures from day to day, and to look 
 into them continually. — (Scott.) Abraham Cheer, who 
 perished in prison for nonconformity in Bunyan’s time, pub¬ 
 lished a little volume of Poems, in which he compares the 
 Bible to a looking-glass, iu these very appropriate lines:— 
 
 * If morn by morn you in this glass will dress you, 
 
 / I have some hopes that God by it may bless you.’—(P. 37 .)—(Ed.) 
 
232 
 
 THE FILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 apart 1 2 —now the names of the Shepherds are 
 First Part, Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, 
 P- 144 and Sincere — and said unto them, 
 There is one of my daughters, a breeding woman, 
 that I think doth long for something that she hath 
 seen in this house; and she thinks she shall mis¬ 
 carry, if she shall by you be denied. 
 
 Experience. Call her, call her; she shall assur- 
 c , , ,, , edly have what we can help her to. 
 
 lose her long- So they called her, and said to her, 
 Mercy, what is that thing thou wouldst 
 have ? Then she blushed, and said, The great glass 
 that hangs up in the dining-room. So Sincere ran 
 and fetched it, and, with a joyful consent, it was 
 given her. Then she bowed her head, and gave 
 thanks, and said, By this I know that I have 
 obtained favour in your eyes. 
 
 They also gave to the other young women such 
 things as they desired, and to their husbands great 
 commendations, for that they had joined with Mr. 
 Great-heart, to the slaying of Giant Despair, and 
 the demolishing of Doubting Castle. 
 
 About Christiana’s neck, the Shepherds put a 
 bracelet, and so they did about the necks of her 
 
 How the Shep- four daughters; also they put ear- 
 herds adorn rings in their ears, and jewels on their 
 
 the Pilgrims, . 9 
 
 foreheads.“ 
 
 When they were minded to go hence, they let 
 them go in peace, but gave not to them those 
 certain cautions which before were given to Chris- 
 First Part, tiam an d his companion. The reason 
 p v i45. 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 approaching. 
 
 What cautions Christian and his companion had 
 First Part, received of the Shepherds, they had 
 p. 151. also j os ^ by that the time was come 
 that they had need to put them in practice. Where¬ 
 fore, 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 1 
 And how they us receive without one let, 
 
 That makes the other life our mark and home! 
 
 What novelties they have to us they give, 
 
 That we, though Pilgrims, joyful lives may live; 
 
 They do upon us, too, such things bestow, 
 
 That show we Pilgrims are, where’er we go. 
 
 1 This doubtless is meant to intimate, that in times of grea 
 anxiety, and in prospect of seasons of difficulty, Christians 
 desire above all things the special supports and consolations of 
 the Word of God.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 2 By this jewelry is probably intimated, that they gave 
 them written testimonials of possessing the ornament of a 
 
 meek and quiet spirit, that they might be recognized as Chris 
 ,tian women by other churches.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 truth beset 
 with thieves. 
 
 When they were gone from the Shepherds, they 
 quickly came to the place where Chris- Part Firstj 
 tian met with one Turn-away, that P- 146 - 
 dwelt in the town of Apostasy. 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 How one ,p uru _ 
 with him the character of his rebel- away managed 
 lion at his back. And this I have to P J 
 say concerning This man; he would hearken to no 
 counsel, but once falling, persuasion could not stop 
 him. 
 
 When he came to the place where the Cross and 
 the Sepulchre were, he did meet with one that did 
 bid him look there, but he gnashed with his teeth, 
 and stamped, and said, he was resolved to go back 
 to his own town. Before he came to the gate, he 
 met with Evangelist, who offered to lay hands on 
 him, to turn him into the way again. But this 
 Turn-away resisted him, and having done much 
 despite unto him, he got away over the wall, and 
 so escaped his hand. He. x. 26-29. 
 
 Then they went on; and just at the place 
 where Little-faith formerly was robbed, 0ne y aliant . for . 
 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 
 Yaliant-for-truth. 1 am a pilgrim, and am going 
 to the Celestial City. Now, as I was in my way, 
 there were three men did beset me, and propounded 
 unto me these three things: 1. Whether I would 
 become one of them. 2. Or go back from whence 
 I came. 3. Or die upon the place. 3 To the first, 
 I answerdd, 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. Pr. i. 10 —14. 
 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 
 
 3 From the names given to these opposers, they appear to 
 represent certain wild enthusiasts who intrude themselves in 
 the way of professors, to perplex their minds, and persuade, 
 them that, unless they adopt their reveries or superstitions, 
 they cannot be saved. An ungovernable imagination, a mind 
 incapable of sober reflection, and a dogmatizing spirit, charac¬ 
 terize these enemies of the truth; they assault religious persons 
 with specious reasonings, cavilling objections, confident asser¬ 
 tions, bitter reproaches, proud boastings, sarcastic censures, 
 and rash judgments. They endeavour to draw them to their 
 party, or drive them from attending to religion at all. But 
 the Word of God, used with fervent, persevering prayer, will 
 silence such dangerous assailants, and confirm others also.— 
 (Scott.) 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 233 
 
 put things to my choice; wherefore, at your peril 
 be it, if you meddle. Then these three, to wit, 
 Wild-head, Inconsiderate, and Pragmatic, drew 
 upon me, and I also drew upon them. 
 
 So we fell to it, one against three, for the space 
 Iiow lie be- of above three hours. They have left 
 
 haved himself. ^ , 
 
 and put them UpOIl 1116, &S yOU SC6, S01116 Ol tllO 
 
 to flight. marks of their valour, and have also 
 carried away with them some of mine. They are 
 but just now gone. I suppose they might, as the 
 saying is, hear your horse dash, and so they betook 
 them to flight. 
 
 Great-iieart. But here was great 
 odds, three against one. 
 
 It is true ; but little or more are 
 w him that has the truth on his side. 
 ‘ Though an host should encamp against me,’ said 
 
 Great heart 
 wonders at his 
 valour. 
 
 Valiant. 
 nothinor to 
 
 one, ‘ my heart shall not fear ; though war should 
 rise against me, in this will I be confident.’ Ps. 
 xxvii 3. Besides, saith he, I have read in some 
 records, that one man has fought an army. And 
 how many did Samson slay with the jaw-bone of 
 an ass ? 1 Ju. xv. 15 ,16. 
 
 Great-heart. Then said the guide, Why did 
 you not cry out, that some might have 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. 
 
 Great-iieart. Then said Great-heart to Mr. 
 Valiant-for-truth, Thou hast worthily behaved thy¬ 
 self. Let me see thy sword. So he showed it him. 
 When he had taken it in his hand, ancl looked 
 thereon a while, he said, Ila ! it is a right Jeru¬ 
 salem blade, is. ii. 3. 
 
 Valiant. It is so. Let a man have one of these 
 blades, with a hand to wield it and skill to use it, 
 and he may venture upon an angel with it. He 
 need not fear its holding, if he can but tell how to 
 lay on. Its edges will never blunt. It will cut 
 flesh and hones, and soul and spirit, and all. Ep. 
 
 vL 12—17. He. iv. 12. 
 
 Great-iieart. But you fought a great while; I 
 wonder you was not weary. 
 
 A aliant. I fought till my sword did cleave to 
 The Word. m J hand; and when they were joined 
 together, as if a sword grew out of 
 my arm, and when the blood ran 
 through my fingers, then I fought with most 
 courage . 1 2 2 Sa. aiil 10. 
 
 1 I ruth will make a man valiant; and valour for truth will 
 make a pilgrim fight with wild-headed, inconsiderate, and 
 pragmatic opposers. The blood he loses in such a battle is 
 bis honour, the scars he gets are his glory.—(Mason.) He 
 does not attempt to hide himself, or run from his and his 
 
 Lord s enemies. O that pilgrims, especially those that are 
 )tung, were better trained to this battle! In Bunyau’s time, 
 there were comparatively few of these cavillers; now their 
 name is Legion.—(En.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Great-heart. Thou hast done well. Thou hast 
 ‘ resisted unto blood, striving against sin.’ Thou 
 slialt abide by us, come in and go out with us, for 
 we are thy companions. 
 
 Then they took him, and washed his wounds, 
 and gave him of what they had to refresh him; 
 and so they went on together. Now, as they went 
 on, because Mr. Great-heart was delighted iti him, 
 for he loved one greatly that he found to be a man 
 of his hands, and because there were with his 
 company them that were feeble and weak, there¬ 
 fore he questioned with him about many things; 
 as, first, what countryman he was ? 3 
 
 Valiant. I am of Dark-land; for there I was 
 born, and there my father and mother are still. 
 
 Great-iieart. Dark-land, said the guide; doth 
 not that lie up on the same coast with the City of 
 Destruction ? 
 
 Valiant. Yes, it doth. Now, that which caused 
 
 me to come on pilgrimage was this; „ ,, , r 
 
 m n . How Mr. Valiant 
 
 we had one Mr. 1 ell-true came into came to go on 
 
 our parts, and he told it about what pilgnmage - 
 Christian bad done, that went from the City of 
 Destruction; namely, how he had forsaken his 
 wife and children, and had betaken himself to a 
 pilgrim’s life. It was also confidently reported, 
 how he had killed a serpent that did come out to 
 resist him in his journey, and how he got through 
 to whither he intended. It was also told, what wel¬ 
 come he had at all his Lord’s lodgings, especially 
 when he came to the gates of the Celestial City; 
 for there, said the man, he was received with sound 
 of trumpet, by a company of Shining Ones. He 
 told it also, how all the bells in the city did ring 
 for joy at his reception, and what golden garments 
 he was clothed with, with many other things that 
 now I shall forbear to relate. In a word, that man 
 so told the story of Christian and his travels, that 
 my heart fell into a burning haste to be gone after 
 him; nor could father or mother stay me! So I 
 got from them, and am come thus far on my way. 
 
 Great-iieart. You came in at the gate, did 
 you not ? 
 
 2 I 11 this battle, this striving for the truth, three considera¬ 
 tions strike the mind;—1. Reliance upon Divine aid, without 
 which we can do nothing. 2. A right Jerusalem w-eapon, 
 forged in the fire of love, well tempered with Bible truths, 
 Such a sw r ord will make even the angel of the bottomless pit 
 flee, its edge will never blunt, and it will cut through every¬ 
 thing opposed to it. 3. Decision of character, perseverance 
 to the utmost; no trimming or meanly compounding for 
 truth, but a determination, in the Lord’s strength, to come off 
 more than conquerors. It is blessed fighting when hand and 
 heart are engaged, and the sword grows united to both.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 8 The church of Christ has produced heroes of the first 
 class in point of courage, w r hich they have displayed in circum¬ 
 stances of great danger. Luther and Knox, and Latimer and 
 Bunyan, were men of this stamp ; each of whom might, with 
 great propriety, have been named Valiant-for-the-truth.— 
 (Ivimey.) 
 
 30 
 
231 
 
 TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 
 
 •Uilu 
 
 W 
 
 ii3 
 
 Valiant. Yes, yes ; for the same man also told 
 He begins 113 that all would he nothing, if we did not 
 begin to enter this way at the gate. 1 
 
 right. 
 
 tie is much re¬ 
 joiced to see 
 Christian’s 
 wife. 
 
 Great-iieart. Look you, said the guide to Chris- 
 ciiristian’s name tiana, the pilgrimage of your husband, 
 
 famous. and what he has gotten thereby, is 
 spread abroad far and near. 
 
 Valiant. Why, is this Christian’s wife ? 
 
 Great-iieart. Yes, that it is; and these are also 
 her four sons. 
 
 Valiant. What! and going on pilgrimage too? 
 
 Great-iieart. Yes, verily; they are following 
 after. 
 
 Valiant. It glads me at heart. Good man ! 
 
 how joyful will he be when he shall 
 see them that would not go with him, 
 yet to enter after him in at the gates 
 into the City ! 
 
 Great-he art. Without doubt it will be a com¬ 
 fort to him; for, next to the joy of seeing himself 
 there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and 
 children. 
 
 Valiant. But, now you are upon that, pray let 
 me hear your opinion about it. Some make a 
 question, Whether we shall know one another 
 when we are there. 
 
 Great-iieart. Do they think they shall know 
 themselves then, or that they shall rejoice to see 
 themselves in that bliss ? and if they think they 
 shall know and do these, why not know others, 
 and rejoice in their welfare also ? 2 
 
 Again, since relations are our second self, though 
 that state will be dissolved there ; yet why may it 
 not be rationally concluded, that we shall be more 
 glad to see them there, than to see they are 
 
 wanting ? 
 
 1 The reason why so many professors set out, and go on 
 for a season, but fall away at last, is, because they do not enter 
 into the pilgrim’s path by Christ, who is the gate. They do 
 not see themselves quite lost, ruined, hopeless, and wretched; 
 their hearts are not broken for sin; therefore they do not 
 begin by receiving Christ as the only Saviour of such miser¬ 
 able sinners. But they set out in nature’s strength; and not 
 receiving nor living upon Christ, they fall away. This is the 
 reason of tills inquiry, Did you come in at the gate ? A ques¬ 
 tion we ought to put to ourselves, and be satisfied about.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 2 Among many puzzling questions which agitate the Chris¬ 
 tian’s mind, this is very generally a subject of inquiry. At 
 the mount of transfiguration, the apostles knew the glorified 
 spirits of Moses and Elias. The rich man and Lazarus and 
 Abraham knew each other. The most solemn inquiry is, to 
 reconcile with the bliss of heaven the discovery that some 
 dear relative has been shut out. Shall we forget them ? or 
 will all our exquisite happiness centre in the glory of God ? 
 Bunyan has no doubt upon personal identity in heaven:—- 
 
 ‘ Our friends that lived godly here 
 Shall there be found again; 
 
 The wife, the child, and father dear. 
 
 With others of our train. 
 
 Those God did use us to convert 
 We there with joy shall meet. 
 
 And jointly shall, with all our heart, 
 
 In life each other greet.’ 
 
 —{One Thing Needful, ver. 69, 71.)—(Ed.) 
 
 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 ? 3 * 
 Great-iieart. Yes. Was your father and mother 
 willing that you should become a pilgrim ? 
 
 Valiant. Ono! They used all means imaginable 
 to persuade me to stay at home. 
 
 Great-iieart. What could they say against it ? 
 Valiant. They said it was an idle The great stum- 
 
 life ; and if I myself were not inclined [ J hat g hy°his 
 
 to sloth and laziness, I would never f r l e . nd? W W 
 countenance a pilgrim’s'condition. way. 
 
 Great-iieart. And what did they say else ? 
 
 Valiant. Why, they told me that it was a 
 dangerous way; yea, the most dangerous way in 
 the world, said they, is that which the pilgrims go. 
 
 Great-iieart. Did they show wherein this way 
 is so dangerous ? 
 
 Valiant. Yes; and that in many particulars. 
 
 Great-iieart. Name some of them. 
 
 Valiant. They told me of the Slough of De¬ 
 spond, where Christian was well nigh The first 8 tum- 
 smothered. They toid me that there wing-block, 
 were archers standing ready in 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, 
 Maul, and Slay-good. They said, moreover, that 
 there was a foul fiend haunted the Valley of Hu¬ 
 miliation, and that Christian was by him almost 
 bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must go 
 over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the 
 hobgoblins are ; where the light is darkness; where 
 the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. They 
 told me also of Giant Despair, of Doubting Castle, 
 and of the ruin that the Pilgrims met with there. 
 Further, they said I must go over the Enchanted 
 Ground, which was dangerous. And that, after 
 all this, I should find a river, over which I should 
 find no bridge, and that that river did lie betwixt 
 me and the Celestial Country. 
 
 Great-heart. And was this all ? 
 
 Valiant. No. They also told me that 
 this way was full of deceivers, 5 and of The seccil(i 
 
 
 3 A sound Christian is not afraid to he examined, and sifted 
 to the bottom, for he can give reason of the hope that is in 
 him. He knows why and wherefore he commenced his pil¬ 
 grimage.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 This is a reproach cast upon religion in every age. 
 Pharaoh said to Moses and the Israelites, * Ye are idle, ye are 
 idle.’ Men by nature imagine, that time spent in reading the 
 Bible and in prayer is wasted. It behoves all believers to 
 avoid every appearance of evil; and, by exemplary diligence, 
 frugality, and good management, to put to silence the ignor¬ 
 ance of foolish men.—(Scott.) 
 
 5 Worldly people, in opposing the gospel, descant upon the 
 hypocrisy of religious persons; they pick up every vague 
 report that they hear to their disadvantage, and narrowly 
 watch for the halting of such as they are acquainted with; 
 and then they form general conclusions from a few distorted 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 235 
 
 persons that laid in wait there to turn good men 
 out of the path. 
 
 Great-heart. 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 con¬ 
 tinually 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 pre¬ 
 sume 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. 
 
 Great-heart. I promise you this was enough 
 to discourage; but did they make an end here ? 
 
 Valiant. No; stay. They told me also of 
 
 Tii th’d. man y ^ iat tr * e( l that way of old, 
 and that had gone a great way 
 therein, to see if they could find something of 
 the glory there, that so many had so much talked 
 of from time to time; and liow they came back 
 again, and befooled themselves for setting a foot 
 out of doors in that path, to the satisfaction of 
 all the country. And they named several that 
 did so; as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust and 
 Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several 
 more, who, they said, had some of them, gone far 
 to see if they could find; but not one of them found 
 so much advantage by going as amounted to the 
 weight of a feather. * 1 
 
 Great-heart. Said they anything more to dis¬ 
 courage you ? 
 
 Valiant. Yes. They told me of one Mr. Fear¬ 
 ing who was a pilgrim; and how he 
 
 The fourth. „ ° . . . r 6 * 
 
 round this rvay so solitary, that he 
 never had comfortable hour therein. Also that 
 Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved 
 therein ; yea, and also, which I had almost forgot, 
 that Christian himself, about whom there has been 
 such a noise, after all his ventures for a celestial 
 crown, was certainly drowned in the Black River, 
 and never went foot further, however it was smo¬ 
 thered up. 2 
 
 Great-heart. And did none of these things 
 
 © 
 
 discourage you ? 
 
 Valiant. No; they seemed but as so many 
 nothings to me. 
 
 Great-heart. How came that about ? 
 
 Valiant. Why, I still believed nowiegotov „ 
 what Mr. Tell-true had said, and that these stum- 
 carried me beyond them all. bhn ° l)loLk 
 
 Great-heart. 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, am come 
 to this place. 3 
 
 Who would true valour sec, 
 
 Let him come hither; 
 
 One here will constant be, 
 
 Come wind, come weather. 
 
 There’s no discouragement 
 
 Shall make him once relent. 
 
 His first avow’d intent 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 Who so beset him round 
 With dismal stories, 
 
 Do but themselves confound, 
 
 His strength the more is; 
 
 No lion can him fright, 
 
 He’ll with a giant fight; 
 
 But he will have a right 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 Hobgoblin nor foul fiend 
 Can daunt his spirit; 
 
 He knows he at the end 
 Shall life inherit. 
 
 Then fancies fly away, 
 
 He’ll fear not what men sav: 
 
 •l * 
 
 He’ll labour night and day 
 To be a pilgrim. 
 
 By this time they were got to the Enchanted 
 Ground, 4 where the air naturally tended pi rst p art> 
 to make one drowsy ; and that place l52 - 
 was all grown over with briars and thorns, except¬ 
 ing here and there, where was an Enchanted 
 Arbour, upon which if a man sits, or in which, if 
 a man sleeps, it is a question, say some, whether 
 
 and uncertain stories. Thus they endeavour to prove that 
 there is no reality in religion. This is a frivolous sophistry, 
 often employed after all other arguments have been silenced. 
 —(Scott.) 
 
 1 If Judas the traitor, or Francis Spira the backslider, were 
 
 alive, to whisper these men in the ear a little, and to tell them 
 
 what it hath cost their souls for turning back, it would surely 
 stick by them as long as they have a day to live in the world. 
 Agrippa gave a fair step on a sudden; he stepped almost into 
 the bosom of Christ in less than half an hour. * Almost thou 
 persuadest me to be a Christian.’ It was but almost, and so 
 he had as good been not at all. He stepped fair, but stepped 
 short. lie was hot whilst he ran, but he was quickly out of 
 breath. 0 this but almost ! I tell you, it lost his soul. 
 M hat a doom they will have, who were almost at heaven’s 
 gate, but ran back again !—(Bunyan’s Heavenly Footman .) 
 
 How natural is it for carnal men to give an evil report 
 of the ways of the Lord; and to discourage those who are just 
 
 setting out, by telling of the dangers and difficulties they shall 
 meet with! But here is not one word of the pleasures, com¬ 
 forts, and joys, that are experienced in the ways of the Lord. 
 No, they feel them not, they believe not one word about them; 
 therefore they cannot speak of them.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Here we see that valiant soldiers of Christ ascribe all 
 to faith. They set out with faith, and they hold on and hold 
 out by believing. Thus they give all the glory to Christ, who 
 is the object, author, and finisher of faith.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Various are the enemies we meet with in our Christian 
 warfare. The world, with its enchantments, has a tendency 
 to stupify, and bring on a fatal lethargy. How many profes¬ 
 sors receive principles, by which they harden themselves in 
 carnal pursuits and sensual gratifications; and others, still 
 preserving a religious name and character, are as dead in their 
 souls, as devoted to the world as these, though contending l'er 
 legal principles, and high in their religious pretensions 1— 
 
 (J. B.) 
 
236 
 
 TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ever he shall rise or wake again in this world. 1 
 Over this forest, therefore, they went, both one 
 and the other, and Mr. Greatlieart went before, 
 for that he was the guide; and Mr. Valiant-for- 
 truth, he came behind, being there a guard, for 
 fear, lest peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or 
 giant, or thief, should fall upon their rear, and so 
 do mischief. They went on here, each man with 
 his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew it was 
 a dangerous place. Also they cheered up one 
 another as well as they could; Feeble-mind, Mr. 
 Great-heart commanded, should come up after 
 him, and Mr. Despondency was under the eye of 
 Mr. Valiant. 2 
 
 Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and 
 darkness fell upon them all, so that they could 
 scarce, for a great while, see the one the other; 
 wherefore they were forced, for some time, to feel 
 for one another by words; for they walked not 
 by sight. 
 
 But any one must think that here was but sorry 
 going for the best of them all; but how much worse 
 for the women and children, who both of feet and 
 heart, were but tender. Yet so it was, that through 
 the encouraging 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, through 
 dirt and 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 cries out, I am 
 down; and another, Ho! where are you ? and a 
 third, The bushes have got such fast hold on me, 
 I think I cannot get away from them. 
 
 1 It behoves all who love their souls to shun that hurry of 
 business, and multiplicity of affairs and projects, into which 
 many are betrayed by degrees, in order to supply increasing 
 expenses, that might be avoided by strict frugality; for they 
 load the soul with thick clay, are a heavy weight to the most 
 upright, render a man’s way doubtful and joyless, and drown 
 many in perdition.— (Scott.) 
 
 2 Old pilgrims, ye who have set out well, and gone on well 
 for a long season, consider ye are yet in the world, which is 
 enchanted ground. Know your danger of seeking rest here, 
 or of sleeping in any of its enchanting arbours. Though the 
 flesh may be weary, the spirit faint, and the arbours inviting, 
 yet beware. Press on. Look to the Strong for strength; 
 aud to the Beloved for rest in his way.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Mark how the ready hands of death prepare; 
 
 His bow is bent, and he hath notch’d his dart; 
 
 He aims, he levels at thy slumb’ring heart. 
 
 The wound is posting; 0 be wise, beware ! 
 
 What, has the voice of danger lost the art 
 To raise the spirit of neglected care ? 
 
 Well, sleep thy fill, and take thy soft reposes; 
 
 But know, withal, sweet tastes have sour closes; 
 
 And he repents in thorns that sleeps in beds of rose3. 
 
 —(Quarles’ Emblems, i.—vii.) 
 
 Then they came at an arbour, warm, and pro¬ 
 mising much refreshing to the Pil- An arbour on 
 
 grims ; for it was finely wrought above l he Knchant- 
 o ’ J ..... mg Ground. 
 
 head, beautified with greens, furnished 
 with benches and settles . 3 It also had in it a soft 
 couch, whereon the weary might lean. This, you 
 must think, ail things considered, was tempting ; 
 for the Pilgrims already began to be foiled with the 
 badness of the way; but there was not one of them 
 that made so much as a motion to stop there. Yea, 
 for aught I could perceive, they continually gave 
 so good heed to the advice of their guide, and he 
 did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the 
 nature of dangers, when they were at them, that 
 usually, when they were nearest to them, they did 
 most pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another 
 to deny the flesh. This arbour was Tlie name 0 f 
 called The Slothful’s Friend, on pur- the arbour, 
 pose to allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims 
 there to take up their rest when weary. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that they went on in 
 this their solitary ground, till they The way difti- 
 came to a place at which a man is apt cuLt t0 fiu(L 
 to lose his way . 4 Now, though when it was light, 
 their guide could well enough tell how to miss those 
 ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put 
 to a stand; but he had in his pocket The ide has a 
 a map of all ways leading to, or from map of ail 
 
 1 J i ways leading 
 
 the Celestial City ; wherefore he struck to or from the 
 
 a light, for he never goes also without Clty ' 
 
 his tinder-box, and takes a view of his book or 
 
 map, which bids him be careful, in that place, to 
 
 turn to the right-hand way. And had he not here 
 
 been careful to look in his map, they had all, in 
 
 probability, been smothered in the mud; for, just 
 
 a little before them, and that at the end of the 
 
 cleanest way too, was a pit, none knows how deep, 
 
 full of nothing but mud, there made on purpose to 
 
 destroy the Pilgrims in . 5 6 
 
 Then thought I with myself, who that goeth on 
 pilgrimage, but would have one of God , sBooki 
 these maps about him, that he may 
 look when he is at a stand, which is the way he 
 must take . 3 
 
 4 This inculcates the duty of constant attention to the 
 precepts and counsels of Scripture, as well as reliance on its 
 promises; and a habitual application to the Lord by prayer, 
 to teach us the true meaning of his Word, that we may learn 
 the way of peace and safety in the most difficult and doubtful 
 cases.—(Scott.) 
 
 5 The Word of God is compared to a map and a lantern; 
 to these we shall do well to take heed, as to light shining 
 in a dark place. Let this be the pilgrim’s guide, when the 
 light of spiritual joy or sensible comfort is withdrawn.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
 6 -To follow Christ. 
 
 He is to them instead of eye3, 
 
 He must before them go in any wise; 
 
 And he must lead them by the water side, 
 
 This is the work of him our faithful guide. 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 ?37 
 
 They went on, then, in this Enchanted Ground, 
 
 An arbour, and tlU the ? canie to where there was 
 two asleep another arbour, and it was built by the 
 
 therein ^ 
 
 highway-side. And in that arbour 
 there lay two men, whose names were Heedless 
 
 and Too-bold. * 1 These two went thus far on pil¬ 
 grimage ; but here, being wearied with their jour¬ 
 ney, 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 awake them ; that is, if they could ; but with 
 this caution, namely, to take heed that themselves 
 did not sit down nor embrace the offered benefit 
 of that arbour. 
 
 So they went in, and spake to the men, and 
 called each by his name, 2 for the guide, it seems, 
 did know them ; but there was no voice nor answer. 
 rhePiicrrims try Then the guide did shake them, and 
 to wake them. jo w p a ^ fr e eouJR to disturb them. 
 
 Then said one of them, I will pay you when I take 
 my money. At which the guide shook his head. 
 I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my 
 hand, said the other. At that one of the children 
 laughed. 
 
 Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of 
 Theirendeavour this ? The guide said, They talk in 
 islimtiesa. their sleep. If you strike them, beat 
 
 them, or whatever else you do to them, they will 
 answer you after this fashion; or, as one of them 
 said in old time, when the Avaves of the sea did 
 
 beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast 
 of a ship, ‘ When shall I awake ? I will seek it 
 yet again.’ rr. xxiii. 34, 35. You knoAv, Avlien men 
 talk in their sleep, they say anything, but their 
 Avords are not governed either by faith or reason. 
 There is an incoherency in their Avords now, as 
 there Avas before, betAvixt their going on pilgrimage, 
 and sitting doivn here . 3 This, then, is the mis¬ 
 chief of it, Avlien heedless ones go on pilgrimage, 
 it is tAventy to one but they are served thus; for 
 this Enchanted Ground is one of the last refuses 
 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 Avith the more advan¬ 
 tage. For when, thinks the enemy, will these 
 fools be so desirous to sit down, as Avlien they are 
 weary? and Avhen so like to be Aveary, as Avlien 
 almost at their journey’s end ? Therefore it is, I 
 say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh 
 to the Land Beulah, and so near the end of their 
 race . 4 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 Avake 
 them . 5 
 
 Then the Pilgrims desired, Avith trembling, to 
 
 g°. forward ; only they prayed their T he light of the 
 guide to strike a light, that they might Y Vor(I - 
 go the rest of their way by the help of the light 
 of a lantern . 0 So he struck a light, and they 
 Avent by the help of that through the rest of this 
 way, though the darkness Avas very great. 2 Pe. i. 10. 
 
 But the children began to be sorely Aveary ; and 
 
 they cried out unto him that loveth T he children cry 
 pilgrims, to make their Avay more com- for weariness. 
 
 . Since snares, aud traps, and gins are for ns set. 
 Since here’s a hole, and there is spread a net, 
 
 0 let no body at my muse deride, 
 
 No man can travel here without a guide. 
 
 —(Runyan’s House of God, vol. ii. p. 582.) 
 
 1 Ignorance and pride may long maintain a form of godli¬ 
 ness, though it be a weariness to them; but after a time they 
 v ill be gradually drawn back into the world, retaining nothing 
 of their religion except certain distorted doctrinal notions.— 
 (Scott.) 
 
 It is the duty, and will be the practice of pilgrims, to 
 strive to be instrumental to the good of others. But, at the 
 same time, it behoves them to take heed to themselves, and 
 watch, lest they catch harm from them and their conduct.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 ^ hat a sound sleep of infatuation hath this enchanting 
 world cast many a professor iuto ! They are proof against all 
 warnings, and dead as to any means of arousing them. When 
 this sleep of death seizes the soul, it destroys faith, infatuates 
 reason, and causes men to talk incoherently. They have lost 
 the language of pilgrims. Their state is awful; beware of it; 
 pray against it. For ‘ if any man love the world, the love 
 of the Father is not in him.’T Jn. ii. 15.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Ibis view of the Enchanted Ground seems to vary from 
 
 that which has been considered in the First Part. The cir¬ 
 cumstances ot believers who are deeply engaged in business, 
 and constrained to spend much of their time among worldly 
 people, may here be particularly intended. This may some¬ 
 times be unavoidable; but it is enchanted ground. Many 
 prolessors, iasciuated by the advantages and connections thus 
 
 presented to them, fall asleep, and wake no more; and others 
 are entangled by those thorns and briers which ‘ choke the 
 Word, and render it unfruitful’ The more soothing the scene 
 the greater the danger, and the more urgent need is there for 
 watchfulness and circumspection.—(Scott.) 
 
 5 This is a solemn period in the Christian’s pilgrimage. 
 In the Heavenly Footman, Bunyan has given some admirable 
 general directions:—‘ Because I would have you think of them, 
 take all in short in this little bit of paper—1. Get into the 
 way. 2. Then study on it. 3. Then strip and lay aside every¬ 
 thing that would hinder. 4. Beware of by-paths. 5. Do not 
 gaze and stare much about thee; but be sure to ponder the 
 path of thy feet. 6. Do not stop for any that call after thee, 
 whether it be the world, the flesh, or the devil; for all these 
 will hinder thy journey if possible. 7. Be not daunted with 
 any discouragements thou meetest with as thou goest. 8. Take 
 heed of stumbling at the cross. And, 9. Cry hard to God for 
 an enlightened heart and a willing mind, and God give thee a 
 prosperous journey. Yet, before I do quite take my leave of 
 thee, a few motives. It may be they will be as good as a 
 pair of spurs, to prick on thy lumpish heart in this rich 
 voyage. If thou winnest, then heaven, God, Christ, glory 
 eternal is thine. If thou lose, thou procuiest eternal death.’ 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 0 The Word of God is the only light to direct our steps. 
 He who neglects this is a fool. He who sets up and looks 
 for any other light to direct him is mad, and knows not what 
 he does. As folly and madness beset him, danger and distress 
 will come upon him. Trembling souls will attend closely to 
 God’s Word.—(Mason.) 
 
238 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 fortable. So by that they bad 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 they were almost at the end of this 
 ground, they perceived that, a little before them, 
 was a solemn noise of one that was much concerned. 
 So they went on and looked before them; and behold,. 
 Stand-fast upon they saw, as they thought, a man upon 
 
 &££*£ !)is knees > with hands and e y es ! ift 
 
 Ground. up, an d speaking, as they thought, 
 earnestly to one that was above. 1 They drew nigh, 
 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 Celestial 
 City. Then Mr. Great-heart called after him, say¬ 
 ing", Soho ! friend, let us have your company, if 
 you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial City. 
 So the man stopped, and they came up to him. 
 But so soon as Mr. Honest saw him, he said, I 
 
 The storv of knOW tlllS man - Tlien Sald Mr * Valiailt_ 
 
 stand-fast. for-truth, Prithee, who is it ? It is 
 one, said he, who comes from whereabouts I d\\ elt. 
 His name is Stand-fast; he is certainly a right 
 good pilgrim. 
 
 So they came up one to another ; and presently 
 Stand-fast said to old Honest, Ho, father Honest, 
 are you there ? Aye, said he, that I am, as sure 
 m „ . as you are there. Right glad am I, 
 
 him and Mr. said Mr. Stand-fast, that 1 have iound 
 Honest. y 0U on this road. And as glad am I, 
 
 said the other, that I espied you upon your knees. 
 Then Mr. Stand-fast blushed, and said, But why, 
 did you see me ? Yes, that I did, quoth the 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 there¬ 
 fore should have his company by and by. If you 
 thought not amiss [said Stand-fast], how happy 
 am I; but if I be not as I should, 1 alone must 
 bear it. That is true, said the other; but your 
 fear doth further confirm me, that things are right 
 
 1 He who fears always, will pray evermore. The fear of 
 the heart will bring pilgrims on their knees. He who fears 
 to be or go wrong, will pray to be set right. The Lord will 
 direct the heart, and order the goings of all who cry to him. 
 Fear and prayer go hand in hand. Joy shall attend them.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 2 No more money than an owl loves light. ‘ The anti¬ 
 quarian, who delights to solace himself in the benighted days 
 of monkish owl-light, sometimes passes for a divine.’—(War- 
 burton.)— (Ed.) 
 
 3 My soul, what’s lighter than a feather ? Wind. 
 
 Than wind ? The tire. And what than tire ? The mind. 
 What’s lighter than the mind ? A thought. Than thought ? 
 This bubble world. What than this bubble ? Naught. 
 
 —(Quarles.) 
 
 betwixt the Prince of Pilgrims and your soul; for, 
 saitli be, ‘ Blessed is tbe man that fearetli always/ 
 Valiant. Well, but brother, I pray thee tell us 
 what was it that was the cause of thy being upon 
 thy knees even now ? Was it for that some 
 special mercies laid obligations upon They found him 
 thee, or how ? at prdyer ‘ 
 
 Stand-fast. Why, we are, as you see, upon the 
 Enchanted Ground; and as I was com- What it was 
 
 . , x . ■,/. that fetched 
 
 mg along, I was musing with myselt him upon his 
 
 of what a dangerous road the road in kuee3, 
 
 this place was, and how many that had come even 
 
 thus far on pilgrimage had here been stopped, 
 
 and been destroyed. I thought also of the manner 
 
 of the death with which this place destroyeth men. 
 
 Those that die here, die of no violent distemper. 
 
 The death which such die is not grievous to them ; 
 
 for he that goeth away in a sleep, begins that 
 
 journey with desire and pleasure ; yea, such 
 
 acquiesce in the will of that disease. 
 
 Hon. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting of him, said, 
 
 Did you see the two men asleep in the arbour? 
 
 Stand-fast. Aye, aye, I saw Heedless and Too- 
 
 bold there ; and, for aught I know, there they will 
 
 lie till they rot. Pr. x. 7. 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, who presented 
 
 herself unto me, and offered me three things; to 
 
 wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. Now, the 
 
 truth is, I was both a-weary and sleepy ; I am also 
 
 as poor as an owlet, 2 and that, perhaps, the witch 
 
 knew. Well, I repulsed her once and twice, but 
 
 she put by my repulses, and smiled. Then I began 
 
 to be angry; but she mattered that nothing at all. 
 
 Then she made offers again, and said, If I would 
 
 be ruled by her, she would make me great and 
 
 happy; for, said she, I am the mistress of the 
 
 world, and men are made happy by me. Then I 
 
 asked her name, and she told me it was Madam 
 
 Bubble. 3 This set me further from Madam Bubble, 
 
 her; but she still followed me with orchis vain 
 
 enticements. Then I betook me as 
 
 you saw, to my knees; and with hands lift up, and 
 
 cries, I prayed to him that had said he would help. 4 
 
 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. 5 
 
 Prayer’s arrow drawn 
 
 Down to the head by nervous penitence, 
 
 Or meek humility’s compliant strings, 
 
 Wings to the destin’d mark its certain way, 
 
 And ne’er was shot in vain 1 
 
 —(Dodd’s Epiphany, p. 32, 4to.) 
 
 5 0 pilgrims, beware of this Madam Bubble! Know and 
 consider well, that ye have a nature exactly suited to accept of 
 her offers, and to fall in love with her promises. The riches, 
 honours, and pleasures of this world, what mortal can with¬ 
 stand ? or who can forego them ? No one but he who sees 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 239 
 
 IIon. Without doubt her designs were bad. But 
 stay, now you talk of her, methinks I either have 
 seen her, or have read some story of her. 
 
 Stand-fast. Perhaps you have done both. 
 
 IIon. Madam Bubble! is she not a tall, comely 
 dame, something of a swarthy complexion ? 
 
 Stand-fast. Right, you hit it, she is just such 
 a one. 
 
 IIon. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and 
 give you a smile at the end of a sentence ? 
 
 Stand-fast. You fall right upon it again, for 
 these are her very actions. 
 
 IIon. Doth she not wear a great purse by her 
 side ; and is not her hand often in it, fingering her 
 money, as if that was her heart’s delight ? a 
 
 Stand-fast. It is just so ; had she stood by all 
 this while, you could not more amply have set her 
 forth before me, nor have better described her 
 features. 
 
 IIon. Then he that drew her picture was a good 
 limner, and he that wrote of her said true . * 1 
 
 Great-iieart. This woman is a witch, and it is 
 
 The Worn ^y v * rtue ^ er sorcer i es that this 
 ground is enchanted. Whoever doth 
 
 lay their head down in her lap, had as good lay 
 it down upon that block over which the axe doth 
 hang; and whoever lay their eyes upon her beauty, 
 are counted the enemies of God. Ja. iv. 4. 1 Jn. ii. 15. 
 This is she that maintaineth in their splendour all 
 those that are the enemies of pilgrims. Yea, this 
 is she that hath bought off many a man from a 
 pilgrim’s life. She is a great gossipper; she is 
 always, both she and her daughters, at one pilgrim’s 
 heels or another, now commending, and then pre¬ 
 ferring 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 cun¬ 
 ning to get money in a place, she will speak well 
 of him from house to house ; she loveth banqueting 
 
 more charms in Jesus, more glory in his cross, and more com¬ 
 fort in the enjoyment of his love and presence; and there¬ 
 fore, is continually looking and crying to him, ‘ Turn away 
 mine eyes from beholding vanity.’—(Mason.) Many, indeed, 
 are her fair promises and golden dreams. Many hath she 
 brought to the halter, and ten thousand times more to hell. 
 
 O for precious faith, to overcome the world; and to pass 
 through it, in pursuit of a nobler portion, as strangers and 
 pilgrims!—(Harder.) 
 
 1 Is.she not rightly named Bubble? Art thou convinced 
 
 that she is nothing more? Why then dost thou not break 
 loose from her hold ? I ask, Why has the world such hold of 
 thee ? W by dost thou listen to her enchantments ? Eor 
 shame 1 Stir up thy strength, call forth thy powers ! What! 
 be convinced that the world is a bubble, aud be led captive by 
 her. Shake her off, you ought, you should, it is your duty. 
 Let INIr. Stand-fast answer these questions. His earnest and 
 solemn prayers plainly prove the sense he had of his own 
 weakness aud inability to extricate himself from her enchant¬ 
 ments. Though some may appear to despise the dominion of 
 sin, I am convinced that it must be a Diviue power to deliver 
 me from it.—(J. B.) 
 
 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 show T 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 many hath she 
 brought to the halter, and ten thousand times more 
 to hell. 
 
 Stand-fast. 0, said Stand fast, what a mercy 
 is it that I did resist! for whither might she have 
 drawn me! 
 
 Great-heart. Whither! nay, none but God 
 knows whither. But, in general, to be sure, she 
 would have drawn thee into ‘ many foolish and 
 hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and 
 perdition. ’ 1 Ti. vi. 0 . 
 
 It was she that set Absalom against his father, 
 and Jeroboam against his master. It was she that 
 persuaded Judas to sell his Lord, and that pre¬ 
 vailed with Demas to forsake the godly pilgrims’ 
 life; none can tell of the mischief that she doth. 
 She makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, 
 betwixt parents and children, betwixt neighbour 
 and neighbour, betwixt a man and his wife, be¬ 
 twixt a man and himself, betwixt the flesh and 
 the heart. 
 
 Wherefore, good Master Stand-fast, be as your 
 name is, and ‘ when you have done all, Stand.’ 2 
 At this discourse there was, among the Pilgrims, 
 a mixture of joy and trembling; but at length they 
 brake out, and sang— 
 
 What danger is the pilgrim in! 
 
 How many are his foes 1 
 IIow many ways there are to sin 
 No living mortal knows. 
 
 2 It was amidst this Enchanted Ground that good Mr. Stand¬ 
 fast, whom the Pilgrims there found upon his knees, was so 
 hard beset and enticed by Madam Bubble; and indeed it is 
 by her sorceries that the ground itself is enchanted. Madam 
 Bubble is the w r orld, with its allurements and vanities; and 
 whosoever, as Mr. Great-heart said, do lay their eyes upon 
 her beauty are counted the enemies of God; for God hath 
 said that the friendship of the world is enmity against God; 
 and he hath said furthermore, ‘ Love not the world, nor the 
 things of the world; if any man love the world, the love of 
 the Father is not in him.’ So Mr. Stand-fast did well to be¬ 
 take him to his knees, praying to him that could help him. 
 So if all pilgrims, when woildly proposals and enticements 
 allure them, and they feel the love of the world tempting 
 them, and gaining on them, would thus go to more earnest 
 prayer, and be made more vigilant against temptations, 
 Madam Bubble would not gain so many victories.—(Cheever.) 
 
240 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Some of the ditch shy are, yet can 
 Lie tumbling in the mire; 
 
 Some, though they shun the frying-pan. 
 
 Do leap into the fire. 
 
 After this, I beheld until they were come unto 
 First part, the Land of Beulah, where the sun 
 p- 16L shineth night and day. 1 Here, because 
 
 they were weary, they betook themselves a while 
 to rest; and, because this country was common 
 for pilgrims, and because the orchards and vine* 
 yards that were here belonged to the King of the 
 Celestial country, therefore they were licensed to 
 make bold with any of his things. But a little 
 while soon refreshed them here; for the bells did 
 so ring, and the trumpets continually sound so 
 melodiously, that they could not sleep; and yet 
 they received as much refreshing, as if they had 
 slept their sleep ever so soundly. Here also all 
 the noise of them that walked in the streets, was, 
 More pilgrims are come to town. And another 
 would answer, saying, And so many went over the 
 water, and were let in at the golden gates to-day. 
 They would cry again, There is now a legion of 
 Shining Ones just come to town, by which we 
 know that there are more pilgrims upon the road ; 
 for here they come to wait for them, and to com¬ 
 fort them after all their sorrow. Then the Pil¬ 
 grims got up, and walked to and fro; but how 
 were their ears now filled with heavenly noises, and 
 their eyes delighted with celestial visions! In 
 this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt 
 nothing, smelled nothing, tasted nothing, that was 
 
 Death hitter to offensive to their stomach or mind; 
 
 the flesh, but on ] v w R en they tasted of the water 
 
 sweet to the J . •> . . . 
 
 soul. of the river over which they were to 
 
 go, they thought that tasted a little bitterish to 
 
 the palate, but it proved sweeter when it was 
 
 down. 
 
 1 The ensuing description represents the happy state of 
 those that live in places favoured with many lively Christians, 
 united in heart and judgment; and where instances of 
 triumphant deathbed scenes are often witnessed. Aged be¬ 
 lievers, in such circumstances, have been remarkably delivered 
 from fears and temptations, and animated by the hopes and 
 earnests of heaven; so that, while death seemed bitter to 
 nature, it became pleasant to the soul to think ot the joy and 
 glory that would immediately follow it.—(Scott.) 
 
 0 scenes surpassing fable, and yet true 1 
 Scenes of accomplish’d bliss, which who can see, 
 Though but in distant prospect, and not feel 
 His soul refresh’d with foretaste of the joy? 
 
 Bright as a sun the sacred City shines; 
 
 All kingdoms and all princes ot the earth 
 Block to that light, the glory of all lands 
 Blows into her; unbounded is her joy, 
 
 And endless her increase. Thy rams are there, 
 Nebaioth, and the flocks of Kedar there; 
 
 The looms of Ormus, and the mines of Iud, 
 
 And Saba’s spicy groves pay tribute there. 
 
 Praise is in all her gates; upon her walls, 
 
 Aud in her streets, and in her spacious courts, 
 
 Is heard Salvation ! 
 
 In this place there was a record kept of the 
 names of tliem that had been pilgrims of old, and 
 a history of all the famous acts that they had 
 done. It was here also much dis- Death has its 
 coursed how the river to some had had flowings like 
 its flowings, and what ebbings it has the tlde - 
 had while others have gone over. It has been in 
 a manner dry for some, while it has overflowed it3 
 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 spike¬ 
 nard, and saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, with all 
 it^ trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with 
 all chief spices. With these the Pilgrims’ cham¬ 
 bers were perfumed, while they staid here; and 
 with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare 
 them to go over the river when the time appointed 
 was come. 
 
 Now, while they lay here, and waited for the 
 good hour, there was a noise in the AmeKMlgwof 
 town, that there was a post come from Death sent to 
 the Celestial City, with matter of great Clmstiana - 
 importance to one Christiana, the wife of Christian 
 the Pilgrim. So inquiry was made for her, and 
 the house was found out where she "was; so the 
 post presented her with a letter; the 
 
 11 _ . His message. 
 
 contents whereof were, Hail, good 
 woman! I bring thee tidings that the Master ealleth 
 for thee, and expecteth that tliou shouldest stand 
 in his presence, in clothes of immortality, within 
 these ten days.’ 
 
 When he had read this letter to her, he gave 
 her therewith a sure token that he was a true 
 messenger, and was come to bid her make haste 
 to be gone. The token was, an arrow 
 with a point sharpened with love, let 
 easily into her heart, which by degrees 
 wrought so effectually with her, that 
 at the time appointed she must be gone. 2 
 
 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, aud told him how matters were. So he told 
 her he was heartily glad of the news, and could 
 have been glad had the post come jj er speech to 
 for him. Then she bid that he should her Gmde - 
 give advice how all things should be prepared for 
 her journey. So he told her, saying, thus and 
 
 2 These messengers are the diseases or decays by which the 
 Lord takes down the earthly tabernacle, when he sees good to 
 receive the souls of his people into his immediate presence. 
 In plain language, it was reported that Christiana was sick and 
 near death, and she herself became sensible of her situation. 
 ‘The arrow sharpened by love’ implies, that the time, manner, 
 and circumstances of the believer’s death, are appointed by 
 him ‘ who loved us, and gave himself for us.’ lie, as it were, 
 says to the dying saint, ‘ It is I, be not afraid.’—(Scott.) 
 
 How welcome is 
 death to them 
 that have no¬ 
 thing to do hut 
 to die. 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 To her children. 
 
 To old Honest. 
 
 thus it must be; and we that survive will accom¬ 
 pany you to the river side. 
 
 Then she called for her children, and gave them 
 her blessing, and told them, that she 
 yet read with comfort 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 messen¬ 
 ger should come for them. 
 
 When she had spoken these words to her guide 
 and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant-for- 
 
 To Mr. Valiant. ^ Uth ’ ail(1 Saitl Unt ° him » Sir > J°U have 
 
 in all places showed yourself true¬ 
 hearted; ‘be faithful unto death,’ and my King 
 will give you ‘a crown of life.’ I would also 
 entreat you to have an eye to my children ; and if 
 at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably 
 to them. For my daughters, my sons’ wives, they 
 have been faithful, and a fulfilling of the promise 
 To Mr. stand- 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, ‘ Behold an Israelite indeed, 
 in whom is no guile.’ Then said he, 
 
 I wish you a fair day, when you set out for Mount 
 Zion, and shall be glad to see that you go over the 
 river dry-shod. But she answered, Come wet, 
 come dry, I long to be gone; for, however the 
 weather is in my journey, I shall have time enough 
 when I come there to sit down and rest me, and 
 dry me. 
 
 Then came in that good man Mr. Iteady-to-halt, 
 
 To Mr. Heady- to see her. So she said to him, Thy 
 to-hait travel hither has been with difficulty; 
 but that will make thy rest the sweeter. But watch 
 and be ready; for at an hour when you think not, 
 the messenger may come. 
 
 After him came in Mr. Despondency, and his 
 
 To Despond- ^ au o^ ter Much-afraid, to whom she 
 
 ency and his said, You ought with thankfulness, for 
 ever to remember your deliverance 
 from the bauds 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; 4 be sober and hope to 
 the end.’ 
 
 Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, Thou wast 
 
 1 This is the faith and patience of this dying Christian 
 heroine, who began her pilgrimage with trembling steps, 
 maintained her journey with holy zeal, and thus finished her 
 course with joy.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 2 O how blessed is the death of the righteous, who die in 
 the Lord 1 Even a wicked Balaam could wish for this. But 
 it will be granted to none but those who have lived in the 
 Lord ; whose souls have been quickened by his Spirit to come 
 unto Jesus, believe in him, and glory of him as their righteous¬ 
 ness and salvation.—(Mason.) 
 
 VOL. III. ' * 
 
 24] 
 
 delivered from the mouth of Giant Slay-good, that 
 thou mightest live in the light of 
 the living for ever, and see thy King ToFeeble - mi “d- 
 with comfort; only I advise thee to repent thee 
 of thine aptness to fear and doubt of his goodness, 
 before he sends for thee; lest thou shouldest, when 
 he comes, be forced to stand before him, for that 
 fault, with blushing. » 
 
 Now the day drew on, that Christiana must be 
 gone. So the road was full of people to see her 
 take her journey. But, behold, all the 
 banks beyond the river were full of H «nd manner^ 
 horses and chariots, which were come departure - 
 down from above to accompany her to the city 
 gate. So she came forth, and entered the river, 
 with a beckon of farewell to those that followed 
 her to the river side. The last words that she was 
 heard to say here, were, I come, Lord, to be with 
 thee, and bless thee. 1 
 
 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. 2 
 
 In process of time there came a post to the town 
 again, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to- 
 
 halt. So he inquired him out, and neadr-to-tolt 
 said to him, I am come to thee in the summoned. 
 
 name of him whom thou hast loved and followed, 
 though upon crutches; and my message is to tell 
 thee, that he expects thee at his table to sup with 
 him, in his kingdom, the next day after Easter; 
 wherefore prepare thyself for this journey. 3 
 
 Then he also gave him a token that he was a 
 true messenger, saying, I have broken thy golden 
 bowl, and loosed thy silver cord. Ec. xii. G. 
 
 After this, Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fel¬ 
 low-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; and because he had 
 nothing to bequeath to them that should survive 
 him, but his crutches, and his good wishes, there¬ 
 fore thus he said, These crutches I promises, 
 bequeath to my son that shall tread 111:3 wab 
 
 5 Evident decays of natural powers as effectually convince 
 the observing person, as if a messenger had been sent to 
 inform him. But men in general cling to life, wilfully over¬ 
 look such tokens, and try to keep up to the last the vain hope 
 of recovering; those around them, by a cruel compassion, 
 soothe them in the delusion; so that numbers die of chronic 
 diseases as suddenly as if they had been shot through the 
 heart. Perhaps the author had some reference to tho^e 
 inexplicable presages of death which some persons evidently 
 experience.—(Scott.) 
 
 31 
 
242 
 
 THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 Clis last words. 
 
 in rny steps, with a hundred warm wishes that he 
 may prove better than I have done. 
 
 Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his con¬ 
 duct 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 horses for 
 me to ride on. The last words he was heard to 
 say was, Welcome life! 1 * So he went 
 his way. 
 
 After this, Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought 
 Feeble-mind him, that the post sounded his horn 
 summoned. fois chamber door. Then he came 
 in, and told him, saying, I am come to tell thee, 
 that thy Master hath need of thee; and that, in 
 very little time, thou must behold his face in 
 brightness. And take this as a token of the truth 
 of my message, ‘ Those that look out of the windows 
 shall be darkened.’ 2 Ec. xii. s. 
 
 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 
 He makes no message. Then he said, Since I have 
 Wl11 - nothing to bequeath to any, to what 
 purpose 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 ; where¬ 
 fore, when I am gone, I desire that you, Mr. Valiant, 
 would bury it in a dunghill. This done, and the 
 day being come in which he was to depart, he 
 entered the river as the rest. His last words were, 
 Hold out, faith and patience. So he 
 
 Ilis last words. , . ,, ,, • i 
 
 went over to the other side. 
 
 When days had many of them passed away, 
 
 Mr. Despond- Mr . Despondency was sent for ; for a 
 ency’s sum- post was come, and brought this mes¬ 
 sage to him: Trembling man, these 
 are to summon thee to be ready with thy King by 
 the next Lord’s day, to shout for joy for thy deliver¬ 
 ance from all thy doubtings. 
 
 And, said the messenger, that my message is 
 true, take this for a proof; so he gave him the 
 grasshopper to be a burden unto him. Ec. xii. 5. Now, 
 
 His daughter Mr. Despondency’s daughter, whose 
 goes too. name was Much-afraid, said, when she 
 
 1 See the joyful end of one ready to halt at every step. Take 
 courage hence, ye lame, halting pilgrims.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 The tokens are taken from that well-known portion of 
 Scripture, Ec. xii. 1-7; in which the dealings of the Lord are 
 represented as uniformly gentle to the feeble, trembling, humble 
 believer; and the circumstances of their deaths comparatively 
 encouraging and easy.—(Scott.) 
 
 a In the Holy War, the doubters having been dispersed, 
 three or four thrust themselves into Mansoul. Now, to whose 
 house should these Diabolian doubters go, but to that of Old 
 Evil-questioning. So he made them welcome. Well, said he, 
 be of what shire you will, you have the very length of my 
 foot, are one with my heart. So they thanked him. I, said 
 one, am an election-doubter; I, said another, am a vocation- 
 
 beard wliat was done, that she would go with her 
 father. Then Mr. Despondency said to his friends. 
 Myself and my daughter, you know what we have 
 been, and how troublesomely we have behaved our¬ 
 selves in every company. My will and wilL 
 my daughter’s is, that our desponds 
 and slavish fears be by no man ever received, from 
 the day of our departure, for ever; for I know that 
 after my death they will offer themselves to others. 3 
 For, to he plain with you, they are ghost3 the 
 which we entertained when we first began to he 
 pilgrims, and could never shake them off after; and 
 they will walk about and seek entertainment of the 
 pilgrims; but, for our sakes, shut ye the doors 
 upon them. 4 * 6 
 
 When the time was come for them to depart, 
 they went to the brink of the river. The last words 
 of Mr. Despondency were, Farewell 
 
 1 J . . Ills last words. 
 
 night, welcome day. His daughter 
 
 went through the river singing, but none could 
 
 understand what she said. 0 
 
 Then it came to pass, a while after, that there 
 was a post in the town that inquired Mr. Honest 
 for Mr. Honest. So he came to his summoned, 
 house where he was, and delivered to his hand these 
 lines: Thou art commanded to be ready against 
 this day sevennight, to present thyself before thy 
 Lord, at his Father’s house. And for a token that 
 my message is true, ‘ All thy daughters of music 
 shall be brought low.’ Ec. xii. 4. Then Mr. Honest 
 called for his friends, and said unto He makes no 
 them, I die, but shall make no will. wllL 
 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 hanks in some places ; but 
 Ml’. Honest in his lifetime had spoken Good-conscience 
 to one Good-conscience to meet him nest over the 
 there, the which he also did, and lent nver - 
 him his hand, and so helped him over. The last 
 
 doubter; then said the third, I am a salvation-doubter ; and 
 
 the fourth said, I am a grace-doubter. I am persuaded 
 you are down boys, and are one with my heart, said the old 
 
 gentleman.—(E d.) 
 
 4 Pilgrims, mind this. It is as much your duty to strive, 
 in the strength of the Lord, against unreasonable doubts and 
 slavish fears, as against sin; nay, are they not, in their own 
 nature, the worst of sins, as they spring from infidelity, and 
 dishonour God’s precious truth, glorious grace, and everlasting 
 salvation ? Never, never, then, cherish or give way to them, hut 
 
 resist, and shut the door of your hearts against them —(Mason.) 
 
 6 How various is the experience of Christians in the hour 
 of death. Christian and Hopeful inquired ‘ if the waters were 
 all of a depth.’ The answer was, * You shall find it deeper or 
 shallower, as you believe in the King of the place.’ ‘ What 
 ailed thee, 0 Jordan, that thou wast driven back?’ The 
 answer is, * At the presence of the Lord: at the presence o( 
 the God of Jacob. 1 In proportion as a Christian can say, ‘ for 
 me to live is Christ,’ in that proportion may he hope to find 
 the water shallow, and feel support to his leet in the trying 
 passage.—(E d.) 
 
TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 243 
 
 Tvonls of Mr. Honest were, Grace reigns. So lie 
 left the world. 
 
 After this, it was noised abroad, that Mr. Valiant- 
 
 Mr. Valiant for-trutli was taken with a summons, 
 
 summoned, t he same pos t ag t R e ot h er; an( j 
 
 had this for a token that the summons was true, 
 ‘ That his pitcher was broken at the fountain.’ Ec. 
 xii. 6. When he understood it, he called for his 
 friends, and told them of it. Then, said he, I am 
 going to my Father’s ; and though with great dif¬ 
 ficulty I am got hither, yet now I do not repent 
 me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where 
 
 His win. 1 am ' sword 1 S ive t0 him that 
 shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, 
 mid my courage and skill to him that can get it. 
 My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a wit¬ 
 ness for me, that I have fought his battles, who 
 now will be my rewarder. When the day that he 
 must go hence was come, many accompanied him 
 to the river-side, into which as he went, he said, 
 
 His last words. ‘ ^eath, where is thy sting ? ’ And 
 as he went down deeper, he said, 
 Gia\e, where is thy victory?’ So he passed 
 over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the 
 other side. 1 
 
 Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Stand- 
 Mr. Stand-fastis List this Mr. Stand-fast was he that 
 summoned, the rest of the Pilgrims found upon 
 his knees in the Enchanted Ground—for the post 
 brought it him open in his hands. The contents 
 wheieof 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: ‘ ThyNvheel 
 is broken at the cistern.’ Ec. xii. c. Then he called 
 
 He calls for Mr. unto him Mr. Great-heart, who Avas 
 Greal-heart t lieir g U iJ e> ^ ^ untQ 
 
 although it \\ r as not my hap to be much in your 
 good company in the days of my pilgrimage ; yet, 
 since the time I knew you, you have been profitable 
 to me. W hen I came from home, I left behind 
 His speech to me & Avife and five small children; let 
 me entreat you, at your return (for I 
 know that you AA'ill go, and return to your Master’s 
 bouse, in hopes that you may yet be a conductor 
 to more of the holy pilgrims), that you send to 
 
 family, and let them be acquainted Avith all that 
 hath, or shall happen unto me. Tell IIis er , and to 
 them, moreover, of my happy arrival 
 to this place, and of the present [and] late blessed 
 condition thjit I am in. Tell them also of Christian, 
 and Christiana his Avife, and Iioav she and her 
 children came after her husband. Tell them also 
 of Avliat a happy end she made, and whither she 
 is gone. I haA r e 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 
 a\A r ay, he also Avent doAvn to the river. Now there 
 was a great calm at that time in the river; AA'here- 
 fore Mr. Stand-fast, Avhen he Avas about half-Avay 
 in, stood a Avliile and talked to his companions that 
 had Avaited upon him thither; and he said, This 
 river has been a terror to many; yea, 
 the thoughts of it also have often IIls last W0rd3 - 
 frightened me. Now, methinks, I stand easy, my 
 foot is fixed upon that upon which the feet of the 
 priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood, 
 while Israel Avent over this Jordan. j os . m. n. 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 Avaits for me on the 
 otner 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 Avas croAvned Avith thorns, and that 
 face that was spit upon for me . 2 
 
 I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith ; but 
 now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall bo 
 with him in Avhose company I delight myself. 
 
 I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and 
 Avherever I have seen the print of his shoe in the 
 earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too. 
 
 IIis name has been to me as a civet-box; vea, 
 SAveeter than all perfumes. IIis voice to me has 
 been most SAveet; and his countenance I have more 
 desired than they that have most desired the light 
 of the sun. IIis Avord I did use to gather for my 
 food, and for antidotes against my faintings. ‘ He 
 has held me, and hath kept me from mine ini¬ 
 quities; yea, my steps hath he strengthened in his 
 Avay.’ 3 
 
 1 In the truth of Jesus is victory. lie who is valiant for 
 it shall share most of its comforts in life, and in death. O 
 Lord, increase our faith iu the never-failing word of truth and 
 trace, for thy glory and our soul’s triumph!—(Mason.) 
 
 2 Such is the joy and blessedness of faith! How does it 
 bring near and realize the sight of Christ iu glory 1 Do Ave 
 indeed see Christ by the eye of faith ? Is he the one, the chief 
 
 object of our soul ? Verily, then we shall count our days on 
 earth toilsome ones, and long for the full fruition of him in 
 glory. 0 it will be our great glory to see that dear Man, 
 whose blessed head was crowned with thorns, and whose lovely 
 
 face was spit upon, for us. O that we may be living every 
 day upon him and to him, till we see him as he is!—(Mason.) 
 
 3 'ibis speech has been justly admired as one of the most 
 striking passages in the Avhole work; but it is so plain that it 
 only requires an attentive reader. It may, however, be Avorthy 
 of oiu’ observation, that, in all the instances before us, the 
 pilgrims are represented as vesting their only dependence, at 
 the closing scene, on the mercy of God, through the righte¬ 
 ousness and atonement of his Son; and yet recollecting their 
 conscious integrity, boldness in professing and contending for 
 the truth, love to the cause, example, and Avords of Christ, 
 
THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 
 
 244 
 
 Now, while lie was thus in discourse, his coun¬ 
 tenance changed, his strong man bowed under 
 him; and after he had said, Take me, for I come 
 unto thee, he ceased to he seen of them. 
 
 But glorious it was to see how the *open region 
 was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters 
 and pipers, with singers and players on stringed 
 instruments, to welcome the Pilgrims as they went 
 up, and followed one another in at the beautiful 
 gate of the city. * 1 
 
 As for Christian’s children, the four boys that 
 
 obedience to his precepts, delight in his ways, preservation 
 from their own iniquities, and consistent behaviour, as evidences 
 that their faith was living, and their hope warranted; and in 
 this way the retrospect conduced to their encouragement. 
 Moreover, they all concur in declaring that, while they left 
 their infirmities behind them, they should take their graces 
 along with them, and that their works would follow them.’— 
 (Scott.) 
 
 1 O who is able to conceive the inexpressible, inconceivable 
 
 joys of heaven! How will the heavens echo with joy, when 
 the bride, the Lamb’s wife, shall come to dwell with her 
 husband for ever! Christ, the desire of nations, the joy of 
 angels, the delight of the Pather; what solace then must the 
 soul be filled with, that hath the possession of him to all 
 eternity ! 0 what acclamations of joy will there he, when all 
 
 the children of God shall meet together, without fear of being 
 disturbed by the antichristian and Cainish brood I If you 
 would he better satisfied what the beatifical vision means, my 
 request is, that you would live holily, and go and see.— 
 (Bunyan’s Dying Sayings, vol. i. p. 65.) 
 
 2 It was not without design that our excellent author tells 
 us, that the four boys, with their wives and children, were 
 suffered to continue in life for a time, for the increase of the 
 church in the place where they dwelt. He doubtless intended 
 to write a Third Part of his 4 Pilgrim’s Progress,’ founded upon 
 this circumstance, with a design, probably to show the influ¬ 
 ence of real religion and evangelical senfiments on persons in 
 business and in domestic life.—(Ivimey.) 
 
 3 The view of the peaceful and joyful death of the pilgrims, 
 cannot but affect every reader; and many, perhaps, may he 
 
 ready to say, ‘ Let me die the death of the righteous, and 
 
 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. 2 
 
 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. 3 Meantime, I bid my reader 
 
 Adieu. 
 
 let my last end he like his;’ but, except they make it their 
 principal concern to live the life of the righteous, such a wish 
 will be frustrated. If any man, therefore, doubt whether this 
 allegory do indeed describe the rise and progress of religion in 
 the soul—the beginning, continuance, and termination of the 
 godly man’s course to heaven, let him diligently search the 
 Scriptures, and fervently pray to God, from whom alone 
 ‘ cometh every good and perfect gift,’ to enable him to deter¬ 
 mine this question. But let such as own themselves to be 
 satisfied that it does, beware lest they rest in the pleasure of 
 reading an ingenious work on the subject, or in the ability 
 of developing many of the author’s emblems. Let them beware 
 lest they he fascinated, as it were, into a persuasion that they 
 actually accompany the pilgrims in the life of faith and walk¬ 
 ing with God, in the same measure as they keep pace with the 
 author in discovering and approving the grand outlines of his 
 plan. And let every one carefully examine his state, senti¬ 
 ments, experience, motives, tempers, affections, and conduct, 
 by the various characters, incidents, and observations, that pass 
 under his review—assured that this is a matter of the greatest 
 consequence. "We ought not, indeed, to call any man master , 
 or subscribe absolutely to all his sentiments; yet the diligent 
 practical student of Scripture can scarcely doubt that the 
 warnings, counsels, and instructions of this singular work agree 
 with that sacred touchstone, or that characters and actions will 
 at last be approved or condemned by the Judge of the world, 
 in a great degree according to the sentence passed on them in 
 this wise and faithful book. The Lord grant that both the 
 writer and readers of these observations ‘ may find mercy in that 
 day,’ and he addressed in these gracious words, c Come, ye 
 blessed of my Bather, inherit the kingdom prepared for you 
 from the foundation of the world.’—(Scott.) 
 
 Jr 
 
V. 
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 MADE 
 
 BY SHAD DAI UPON DIA BOLUS, 
 
 FOR THE REGAINING OF THE METROPOLIS OF THE WORLD; 
 
 OR, THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. 
 
 By JOHN BUNYAN, 
 
 The Author of ‘The Pilgrim’s Progress.’ 
 
 ' 1 have used similitudes '—Ilosea xii. 10. 
 
 London: Printed for Dorman Newman, at the King’s xYrms in the Poultry; and Benjamin Alsop, 
 
 at the Angel and Bible in the Poultry, 1GS2. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 Bunyan’s account of the Holy War is indeed an 
 extraordinary hook, manifesting a degree of genius, 
 research, and spiritual knowledge, exceeding even 
 that displayed in the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress.’ To use 
 the words of Mr. J. Montgomery, ‘It is a work of 
 that master intelligence, which was privileged to 
 arouse kindred spirits from torpor and inactivity, 
 to zeal, diligence, and success.’ 
 
 It was first published in 1682, in a small octavo 
 volume, and, like the first edition of the Pilgrim, 
 it was printed in a very superior manner to all the 
 subsequent editions, to a recent period. The por¬ 
 trait of the author, by White, which faced the title- 
 page, is without doubt the best likeness that has 
 ever appeared of our great allegorist. 1 In addition 
 to this is a whole length figure of the author, with 
 a representation of Ileart-castle on his left breast; 
 the town of Mansoul, behind, being partly seen 
 through him; Emmanuel and his army on the 
 heart side, and Diabolus with his dragons on his 
 right. From the publication of this popular book 
 in 1682, it has been constantly kej>t in print, so 
 that it is impossible to calculate the numbers that 
 have been circulated. As time rolls on, the ‘ Holy 
 War,’ allegorized by John Bunyan, becomes more 
 and more popular; nor can there be a doubt, but 
 that so long as the internal conflict and spiritual 
 warfare between .the renewed soul and its deadly 
 enemies are maintained, this book will become in¬ 
 creasingly popular. 
 
 The ‘Holy War,’ although so very extraordinary j 
 an allegory, has not been translated into so many 
 languages, nor has it been so much read in English, 
 
 1 The original drawing by W hite, from which he engraved 
 the portrait, is preserved in the print department of the British 
 Museum. An accurate copy from it is prefixed to this edition 
 of his W T orks. 
 
 as the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress.’ This would naturally 
 arise from the Pilgrimage being a more simple 
 narrative. It is a journey full of the most striking 
 scenery and incidents, which is read with the deepest 
 interest by all classes, from the children in a work- 
 house to the profoundest Christian philosopher. 
 The facts which are intended to be impressed upon 
 the mind by the force of the allegory, are seen and 
 appreciated by the Christian without requiring 
 much investigation; while the ‘Holy War’ is carried 
 on under an allegorical representation by no means 
 so transparent. Man’s soul is figured under the 
 simile of a town, which having surrendered to an 
 insidious and mortal enemy, is besieged by its 
 lawful Sovereign with all the ‘pomp and circum¬ 
 stances ’ of war; the arch-enemy is driven out, 
 the town retaken, new-modelled, and garrisoned 
 by Emmanuel. 
 
 To the Christian, whose aim and end is peace, 
 war presents a most forbidding aspect. He loves 
 not to see the garments rolled in blood, nor to hear 
 the dying groans of the wounded, nor the heart¬ 
 rending cries of the bereaved, especially those of 
 the widow and the orphan. Spoliation and rob¬ 
 bery are not the pastimes of the child of God, nor 
 is cruelty the element of his happiness or peace. 
 To read of such scenes, produces painfully inter¬ 
 esting sensations ; but even these are not so strong 
 or intense as those delightful feelings which per¬ 
 vade the mind while watching the poor pilgrim in 
 his struggles to get through the Slough of Despond, 
 his terror under the flames of Mount Sinai, his 
 passing unhurt the darts from Beelzebub’s castle, 
 and his finding refuge at the Wicket Gate. It is 
 true, that the most delicate Christian must become 
 a stern warrior—the most sensitive ear must be 
 alarmed with the sound of Diabolus’s drum, and 
 
 % 
 
 k B 
 
246 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 at times feel those inward groanings which cannot 
 he uttered—pass through ‘ the fiery trial,’ and 
 ‘endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus 
 Christ;’ while at other periods of his experience, 
 flushed with victory, he will cry out, ‘ Who shall 
 separate us from the love of Christ?’ We must 
 fight the good fight of faith, or we can never 
 lay hold on eternal life. We must he engaged in 
 this holy war, and fight or perish. There is no 
 neutrality, no excuse that can be awaiting at the 
 day of judgment. The servant of Christ is there¬ 
 fore found trusting in the Captain of salvation, 
 furnished with the whole armour of God, with 
 which his soul is clothed by the Holy Spirit— 
 liavino* the shield of faith, the helmet, the breast- 
 plate, the two-edged sword. It was being thus 
 mysteriously, invulnerably armed, that gave the 
 delicate, learned, pious Lady Anne Askew strength 
 to triumph over her agonies, when the Papists dis¬ 
 jointed every bone and sinew of her body on the 
 rack. Her spiritual armour enabled her with 
 patience to bless God at the stake, when, for re¬ 
 fusing to worship Antichrist, she was burned in 
 Smitlifield, and her soul ascended to heaven in a 
 flaming fiery chariot. It is the same spiritual 
 armour, the same Captain to guide, the same 
 Spirit to sanctify, the same Father to bless us, 
 by which alone we can become more than con¬ 
 querors over our vigilant and powerful enemies. 
 The Holy war is in this volume presented to us by 
 an old, experienced, faithful warrior; it is an alle¬ 
 gorical narrative, written by a master hand, guided 
 by deeply penetrating, searching powers of mind. 
 It is his own severe brunts with the great enemy, 
 who is aided by his army of pomps, vanities, lusts, 
 and allurements, many lurking within, disguised to 
 appear like angels, while under their masquerade 
 dress they are very devils. It is written by one 
 who possessed almost boundless resources of im¬ 
 agination. It is more profound, more deeply 
 spiritual than the pilgrimage from Destruction to 
 the Celestial City; and to understand its hidden 
 meaning, requires the close and mature application 
 of the renewed mind. There are, alas! compara¬ 
 tively few that are blessed with spiritual discern¬ 
 ment ; and even of these, there are but few inclined 
 to mental investigation and research. These are 
 reasons why it has not been so popular a book 
 as the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress.’ To aid those whose 
 time for reading is limited, notes are given, by 
 which obsolete words and customs are explained, 
 and the reader assisted to appreciate the beauties, 
 and to understand the meaning of this allegory. It 
 is earnestly hoped that many will richly enjoy the 
 comforts, instructions, consolations, and strength 
 which the author ardently wished to convey to 
 Zion’s warriors, by the study of this important 
 subject. 
 
 I have already, in my long Introduction to the 
 ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’noticed the peculiar genius 
 and originality which are conspicuous in all Bun- 
 yan’s works, and which most resplendently appear 
 in his allegorical writings. That genius became 
 hallowed and sanctified by prison discipline, by 
 an intense study of the Sacred Scriptures, and 
 by his controversies with great men of various 
 sects and parties. In the ‘Holy War’ Bunyan’s 
 peculiar genius shines forth in its most beauteous 
 lustre; the whole is new, genuine, flowing forth 
 from his own deep and rich experience. It is, in 
 fact, the same narrative that he had published 
 under the title of ‘Grace Abounding to the Chief 
 of Sinners, or a brief and faithful relation of the 
 exceeding mercy of God, in Christ, to his poor ser¬ 
 vant John Buny an.’ This simple, heart-affecting 
 narrative, is here related under the allegorical re¬ 
 presentation of the ‘ Holy War.’ In this, all the 
 circumstances of his conviction of sin, and his con¬ 
 version to God, are narrated with startling interest 
 from the first alarm—his being roused from a state 
 of death-like lethargy, his opposition to the grace 
 of God, his refusals of the invitations of Emman¬ 
 uel, and his being at length conquered to become 
 a monument of Divine mercy—a temple of the 
 Holy Ghost. Then came his declension by carnal 
 security, and his misery in that state, until he was 
 finally reconquered; and his heart is permanently 
 occupied by Emmanuel. The ‘ Grace Abounding,’ 
 aided by the marginal notes of the author to the 
 ‘ Holy War,’ forms a very valuable key to the mys¬ 
 teries of this allegory; without their aid some 
 passages would be found deeply mysterious, and 
 hard to be understood. Nor can this be considered 
 extraordinary, when it is recollected that the whole 
 of the allegory is a revelation of scenes, feelings, 
 hopes, fears, and enjoyments, which are unknown, 
 unfelt, and invisible to all except to those whose 
 minds are enlightened by Divine truth; and even 
 of these, very few have had the deep and trying 
 experience with which the author was exercised. 
 
 That the ‘ Holy War ’ allegorically represents 
 Bunyan’s personal feelings, is clearly declared by 
 him in the poetical Introduction or Address to the 
 Reader, prefixed to the book. He adverts to 
 books of fiction, and solemnly declares— 
 
 -‘ I have somewhat else to do, 
 
 Thau with vaiu stories thus to trouble you. 
 
 For my part, I [myself) was in the towu, 
 
 Both wheu ’twas set up, and when pulling down; 
 
 I saw Diabolus in his possession, - - 
 
 Yea, I was there when she own’d him for lord.’ 
 
 A remarkable verse describes his state before 
 conversion— 
 
 ‘ When Mansoul trampled upon things Divine, 
 
 And wallowed in filth as doth a swine; 
 
 When she betook herself unto her arms, * jt 1s 
 
 bought her Emmanuel, despis’d his charms,* compels. 
 
 6 
 
ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 247 
 
 Then I was there, and did rejoice io see 
 Diabolus and Mausoul so .agree.’ 
 
 Some editor, imagining that Bunyan could never 
 have so rejoiced, forgetting his own words in the 
 fourth section of his ‘ Grace Abounding ’—‘ It was 
 my delight to he taken captive by the devil, at his 
 will ’—altered these words to— 
 
 ‘ Then I was there, and grieved for io see 
 Diabolus and Mansoul so agree.’ 
 
 This alteration, which perverts the author’s 
 meaning, appears in a London edition, 1752, and 
 has been copied into many modern editions, even 
 into those by Mason and Burder. 1 
 
 The author having in the above lines described 
 his unconverted state, goes on to delineate his 
 convictions in these words:— 
 
 --‘ What is here in view, 
 
 Of mine own knowledge , I dare say is true. 
 
 I saw the Prince’s armed men come down, 
 
 I saw the captains, heard, the trumpets sound; 
 
 Yea, how they set themselves in battle-ray, 
 
 I shall remember to my dying dayl 
 
 The whole of this address is descriptive of what 
 the author saw, felt, or heard — 
 
 ‘ V hat shall I say ? I heard the people's cries, 
 
 And saw the Prince wipe tears from Mansoul’s eyes; 
 
 1 heard the groans, and saw the joy of many, 
 
 Tell you of all, I neither will, nor can I; 
 
 But by what here I say, you well may see 
 That Mansoul’s matchless wars no fables be.’ 
 
 The narrative of this eventful war is authenti¬ 
 cated by his personal feelings while under the 
 chastising, correcting, hand of his heavenly Father; 
 in his new r birth and subsequent experience; in 
 bringing his soul from darkness to marvellous light, 
 and from the wretched bondage of sin to the 
 glorious liberty of the gospel. This address is 
 closed with a very important notice, which all our 
 readers should keep constantly in mind—it is to 
 attend to the author’s key to the allegory, and 
 that is his marginal notes— 
 
 ‘Nor do thou go to work without my key, 
 
 (In mysteries men soon do lose their way), 
 
 And also turn it right, if thou would’st know 
 
 My riddle, and would’st with my heifer plough. 
 
 * The It lies there in the window* fare thee well, 
 margeut. , , . * 
 
 My next may be to ring thy passing-bell.’ 
 
 The last line strongly reminds us of the author’s 
 difficulty to quit the gin and beer-drinking practice 
 of bell-ringing, to which in his youth he was so 
 much addicted. It is recorded in his ‘ Grace 
 Abounding,’ Nos. 33 and 34. 2 
 
 1 These words were correctly given in an edition that I 
 published in 1806.— (Ed.) 
 
 Hon strange to hear a sermon, on the day of sacred rest, 
 ^rom the words, ‘Keep holy the Sabbath day,’ accompanied bv 
 a tiule-bob grandsue,’ the men labouring aud sweating mo c t 
 violently.— (Ed.) ° 
 
 The form and order of the narrative is exceed- 
 ingly beautiful, and deeply interesting to those who 
 have been engaged in a similar warfare. Passing 
 over the short and vivid narration of tlfe fall of 
 man, our personal feelings are excited by witness¬ 
 ing the methods of grace, adapted by a covenant- 
 keeping God and Father, to rescue his people from 
 their natural state of Diabolonian slavery. Many 
 of the incidents will bring, to the enlightened 
 reader’s recollection, the solemn and powerful im¬ 
 pressions under which he struggled, when opposing 
 the invitations of Emmanuel. ITis holy joy, when 
 a sense of pardoning love and mercy came over 
 his soul; and his anxieties, when in conflict with 
 doubts, and fears, and blood-men. 
 
 Our young readers must be cautioned not to 
 give way to doubts and fears for their soul's safety, 
 because they have never passed through the sanm 
 feelings which fitted Bunyan for a sphere of 
 extraordinary usefulness. God brings his lambs 
 and sheep into the fold by such means as are 
 agreeable to his infinite wisdom and grace. Some 
 surrender at the first summons; others hold out 
 during a long and distressing siege. ‘God’s ways 
 are not our ways.’ All our anxious inquiries 
 should be, Is Emmanuel in Heart-castle? is he 
 ‘formed in me the hope of glory? ’ do I live and 
 believe in him who has immutably decreed that 
 ‘ whosoever ’—be he rich or poor, learned or un¬ 
 learned—if he * liveth and believeth in me, shall 
 never die ? ’ It matters not, as to my salvatiqn, 
 whether the siege was long or short. The vital 
 question is, Has my heart been conquered; do 
 I love Emmanuel ? If I do, it is because he first 
 loved me, and he changeth not. In proportion to 
 the trouble that I gave to my Conqueror, so should 
 be my zealous, holy, happy obedience to his com¬ 
 mands. Much is expected from those to whom 
 much has been forgiven. The Conqueror, by his 
 victory, fits us for those peculiar duties to which 
 he intends to devote us in extending his kingdom. 
 In the history of this war, the reader’s attention 
 will be naturally arrested by the fact that Man- 
 soul, having voluntarily surrendered to the dominion 
 of Satan, made no effort to relieve herself. No 
 spiritual feelings lurked in the walls to disturb the 
 reign of Diabolus ; not even a prayer or a sigh 
 breaks forth from her heart for deliverance ; she 
 felt not her degradation nor her danger; she was 
 dead while she yet lived—dead in sin; and from 
 this state would have sunk, as thousands have, 
 from spiritual and temporal death into eternal and 
 irretrievable ruin. The first conception of a scheme 
 for her deliverance from such awful danger, arises 
 in the celestial court of her Creator; grace lays 
 the foundation, and raises the top-stone. All the 
 redeemed of God will unite in one song, ‘ Not unto 
 us, 0 Lord; not unto us, but unto thy name give 
 
24 S 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 glory.’ A covenant is made, ordered in all tilings 
 and sure, to save Mansoul; and from this emanates 
 the vast, the costly design of her deliverance. To 
 effect this great object, the Mosaic dispensation— 
 the Law, with all its terrors, is sent, in fearful 
 array, to conquer or destroy. This is allegorically 
 represented under the similitude of an army of 
 forty thousand warriors, ‘ stout, rough-hewn men, 
 fit to break the ice, and make their way by dint 
 of sword.’ They are under the command of four 
 captains, each with his ensign—Boanerges and 
 Thunder, Conviction and Sorrow, Judgment and 
 Terror, Execution and Justice. To resist this 
 force, Diabolus arms the town, hardens the con¬ 
 science, and darkens the understanding. He places 
 at Eargate a guard of deaf men, under old Mr. 
 Prejudice, and plants over that important gate 
 two great guns, Highmind and Heady. He arms 
 Mansoul with the whole armour of Satan, which 
 is very graphically described. Summons after 
 summons is unheeded. The death of friends, sick¬ 
 ness, and troubles, pass by apparently without any 
 good result. They ‘ will not hearken to the voice 
 of charmers, charming never so wisely. At length, 
 the town is assaulted, conscience becomes alarmed, 
 but the will remains stubborn. The beleaguering 
 of the town—planting the ensigns—throwing up 
 batteries—the slings casting, with irresistible force, 
 portions of the Word into the mind—the battering 
 rams beating upon the gates, especially Eargate— 
 exciting alarm under the fear of the just and awful 
 punishment due to sin—all are described with an 
 extraordinary knowledge of military terms and 
 tactics. The episode of the three volunteers who 
 enlisted under Shaddai, into Captain Boanerges’s 
 company—Tradition, Human-wisdom, and Man’s- 
 invention—are inimitably beautiful. When they 
 were caught in the rear , and taken prisoners,—‘ as 
 they did not live so much by religion as by the 
 fates of fortune’—they offer their services to 
 Diabolus, and are joined to Captain Anything’s 
 company. After a few sharp assaults, convictions 
 of sin alarm the conscience, and six of Diabolus’s 
 new Aldermen are slain with one shot. Their 
 names are well worthy an attentive consideration, 
 showing what open vices are abandoned upon the 
 soul beino; first terrified with the fear of retribution 
 
 <D 
 
 —Swearing, Whoring, Fury, Stand-to-lies, Drunk 
 enness, and Cheating. 
 
 Alarms are continued by day and night, until it 
 is said of Mansoul, * Upon all her pleasant things 
 there was a blast, and burning instead of beauty; 
 with shows of the shadow of death.’ Thus was it 
 with David—‘ My soul is cast down within me: 
 deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy water¬ 
 spouts ; all thy waves and thy billows are gone 
 over me.’ Ps. xiii 6, 7 . 
 
 All the assaults of Moses and the Law are in¬ 
 
 effectual ; the gates remain closed against her King 
 and God. The thunders of Sinai and the voice of 
 the prophets may alarm, but cannot conquer Man¬ 
 soul. The thundering, terrifying captains appeal 
 to the celestial court, and Emmanuel—God with 
 11 s—condescends to fight the battle, and secure the 
 victory. The angelic hosts desire to look into 
 these things—they are the peers of the heavenly 
 realm—the news ‘ flew like lightning round about 
 the court’—and the greatest peers did covet to 
 have commissions under Emmanuel. The captains 
 that accompany him in this grand expedition are 
 Faith, Hope, Charity, Innocence, and Patience. 
 Mansoul is to he won by persuasion to receive her 
 Saviour. The cost of the enterprise is vast in¬ 
 deed ; the army is numerous as our thoughts, and 
 who can number ‘ the multitude of his thoughts ? 
 The battering rams and slings, we are told by the 
 margin, mean the books of Sacred Scripture, sent 
 to us by the influence of the Holy Ghost. Em¬ 
 manuel is irresistible—Mansoul is taken—Diabolus 
 is dragged out, stripped of his armour, and sent to 
 the parched places in a salt land, ‘seeking rest, 
 but finding none.’ 
 
 The heart at first trembles lest punishment 
 should he justly poured out upon her for treason, 
 but it becomes the throne of its lawful King; and 
 instead of God’s anger, his pardon and blessings 
 are proclaimed, and Mansoul is filled with joy, 
 happiness, and glory. 
 
 Reader, can you call to mind the peace and 
 holy enjoyment which took possession of your soul, 
 when—having passed through the fears and hopes, 
 the terrors and alarms, of the new birth—you sat 
 down, for the first time, at the table of the Lord, 
 to celebrate the wonders of his grace ? Then you 
 rejoiced in hope full of immortality ; then you could 
 exclaim, 4 0 tidings ! glad tidings J good tidings 
 of good, and of great joy to my soul!’ ‘ Then they 
 leaped and skipped upon the walls for joy, and 
 shouted, Let Emmanuel live for ever !’ And then 
 you fondly thought that happiness was secure for 
 the rest of your pilgrimage, until your glorified 
 spirit should enter into the celestial city. 
 
 Alas ! your enemies were not dead. They in¬ 
 sidiously seized an unguarded moment. Remiss in 
 watchfulness, and formal in prayer, Carnal-security 
 invaded the mind. Your ardent love is cooled— 
 intercourse Avith heaven is slighted—and by slow 
 degrees, and almost unperceived, Emmanuel leaves 
 Iieart-castle; and the prince of the power of the 
 air promotes the treason, and foments rebellion, 
 by the introduction of loose thoughts, under the 
 name of harmless mirth. The news soon reach 
 Diabolus, and an infernal conference, or dialogue 
 of devils, is revealed by our author; who had 
 watched the course and causes of spiritual declen¬ 
 sion, and was not ‘ ignorant of Satan’s devices.’ 
 
advertisement ey the editor. 
 
 249 
 
 The malignant craft ami subtilty displayed in 
 Satan’s counsel, are described in a manner far 
 beyond an ordinary imagination. They display 
 the almost unbounded resources of genius and in¬ 
 vention so richly possessed by the prince of alle- 
 gorists, John Bunyan. It reminds us of the dia¬ 
 logue between Lucifer and Beelzebub, in that rare 
 work by Barnardine Ochine, a reformer, published 
 in 1549, called, A Tragedy or Dialogue of the un¬ 
 just usurped Primacy of the Bishop of Pome. 1 In 
 this is represented, in very popular language, the 
 designs of Lucifer to ruin Christianity by the 
 establishment of Popery. Lucifer thus addresses 
 his diabolical conclave—‘ I have devised to make 
 a certain new kingdom, replenished with idolatry, 
 superstition, ignorance, error, falsehoods, deceit, 
 compulsion, extortion, treason, contention, discord, 
 tyranny, and cruelty; with spoiling, murder, ambi¬ 
 tion, filthiness, injuries, factions, sects, wickedness, 
 and mischief; in the which kingdom all kinds of 
 abomination shall be committed. And notwith¬ 
 standing that it shall be heaped up with all kinds 
 of wickedness, yet shall the [professed] Christian 
 men think it to be a spiritual kingdom, most holy 
 and most godly. The supreme head of this king¬ 
 dom shall be a man which is not only sinful, and 
 an abominable robber and thief, but he shall be 
 sin and abomination itself; and yet, for all that, 
 shall be thought of Christian men a God in earth, 
 and his members, being most wicked, shall be 
 called of men most holy. God sent his Son into 
 the world, who, for the salvation of mankind, hath 
 humbled himself even to the death of the cross. 
 The Pope the I will send my son into the world, who, 
 deui for the destruction and condemnation 
 of mankind, shall so advance himself that lie shall 
 take upon him to be made equal with God.’ ‘ I 
 "ill, hy craft and diligence, shadow and cover 
 superstition and idolatry with a fair face, and 
 beauty of holy ceremonies, that men shall be made 
 so drunken and so amazed with this outward pomp 
 and show, that they shall not be able to discern 
 truth from falsehood, when they be drowned in the 
 flood of idolatry and superstition.’ ‘ I will cause 
 them to be most cruel tyrants and butchers of 
 Christ and his members, under a pretence of zeal 
 to the house of God. They shall hide their un¬ 
 cleanness and filthy behaviour with an exceeding 
 wide cloak of hypocrisy, and with glorious shining 
 titles.’ Thus this intrepid reformer opened up the 
 origin, the development, the desolations, of Popery; 
 and, with a similar knowledge of Satan’s devices, 
 the Nonconformist Bunyan shows the means by 
 which Diabolus urges the young Christian into a 
 backsliding state. ‘ Let our Diabolonian friends 
 in Mansoul draw it into sin, for there is nothinc 
 
 1 From a copy in the Editor’s library. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 like sin to devour Mansoul; while we will send 
 against it an army of twenty or thirty thousand 
 sturdy terrible doubters. Sin renders Mansoul 
 sick and faint, while doubts are by it made fierce 
 and strong. At length Diabolus and his army of 
 doubts march from Ilellgate Hill to Mansoul: the 
 older in which they are placed, and the names of 
 the officers, are very instructive, as well as curious. 
 Election-doubters, under Captain Page—Vocation- 
 doubters, commanded by Captain Fury—Grace- 
 doubters, led by Capt. Damnation—Faith-doubters, 
 under Captain Insatiable—Perseverance-doubters, 
 led by Captain Brimstone—Resurrection-doubters, 
 by Captain Torment—Salvation-doubters, under 
 Captain Noease—Glory-doubters, commanded by 
 Captain Sepulchre—Felicity-doubters, led by Cap¬ 
 tain Pasthope. Incredulity was Lord-general, and 
 Diabolus was King and Commander-in-chief. The 
 roaring of the drum—their alarming outcries, Hell- 
 fire ! Hell-fire !—their furious assaults—the mul¬ 
 titude of doubts—and the perplexity of poor dis¬ 
 tracted Mansoul, are admirably and truly narrated. 
 The town makes a sortie in the night, but Dia¬ 
 bolus and his legions, experienced in night work, 
 diive them back, and severely wound Captains 
 Faith, Hope, and Experience. Again the gates 
 are assaulted, and Diabolus and his doubters gain 
 an entrance, by the senses, into the town, but 
 cannot force the heart; and Mansoul is reduced 
 to the greatest straits and sadness. In this ex¬ 
 tremity, prayers are incessantly offered up to Em¬ 
 manuel ; but, for a long time, they can obtain no 
 satisfactory answers. Both parties are on the 
 alert; but Diabolus finds it impossible, either by 
 treachery, or by storming with his legion of doubts, 
 to gain possession of Heart-castle. Being worsted 
 in a general engagement, the doubters are slain, 
 and are buried with their armour; yea, all that 
 did but smell of a Diabolonian doubter. The arch¬ 
 fiend now enters upon a new mode of assault—he 
 sends for a reinforcement, to try the effect of per¬ 
 secution ; and obtains an army of fifteen thousand 
 bloodmen, from the province of Loathgood. To 
 these were added ten thousand new doubters, under 
 their commander old Incredulity. These blood- 
 men were ‘rugged villains, and had done feats 
 heretofore ; ’ ‘ they were mastiffs, and would fasten 
 upon father, mother, brother, yea, upon the Prince 
 of princes. Among their officers is Captain Pope, 
 whose colours were the stake, the flame, and the 
 good man in it.’ To these I would humbly suggest 
 the propriety of adding one more—it is Captain 
 State-religion, upon whose standard should be re¬ 
 presented the Nonconformist John Bunvan in a 
 
 v 
 
 damp dreary dungeon, writing his ‘ Pilgrim’s Pro¬ 
 gress,’ with his poor blind child at his feet. 0 
 persecutor, whether you burn or imprison a Non¬ 
 conformist, or harass him in Ecclesiastical courts, 
 
 32 
 
250 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 or seize his goods to support forms or ceremonies 
 which he believes to be Antichristian, your com¬ 
 mander is old Incredulity—your king is Diabolus! 
 The bloodmen send a summons to Mansoul * as 
 hot as a red hot iron,’ threatening fire and sword, 
 and utter destruction; but the God who visited 
 our pious author in prison, and cherished and com¬ 
 forted him in his twelve years’ sufferings under 
 persecution, came to the relief of Mansoul. The 
 Diabolonian army is routed—the doubters are slain, 
 excepting a few who escaped—the bloodmen or 
 persecutors were not to be slain, but to be taken 
 alive. The prisoners are brought to trial, with all 
 the forms and solemnities of law; and the nana- 
 tive concludes with a most admirable chaige fiom 
 Emmanuel to keep Mansoul in a state of the most 
 prayerful vigilance. Enemies still lurk within, to 
 keep her humble; that she may feel her depend¬ 
 ence upon God, and be found much in communion 
 with him. ‘ Believe that my love,’ says Emman¬ 
 uel, ‘ is constant to thee. Watch, hold fast, till 
 I come.’ 
 
 In the whole detail of this war, very singular 
 skill is manifested. A keen observer of all that 
 passed before him, aided by a most retentive me¬ 
 mory, and a fertile imagination, enabled our pil¬ 
 grim forefather to gain much knowledge in a short 
 time. He had been engaged, as a private soldier, 
 in the Civil war; and was at the siege of Leices¬ 
 ter, when it was taken by Prince Rupert. This 
 gave him a knowledge of the meaning of trumpet 
 or bugle sounds; so that, when the trumpeters 
 made their best music, in the expectation of Em¬ 
 manuel’s speedy assistance to help Mansoul, Dia¬ 
 bolus exclaims, ‘ What do these madmen mean ? 
 they neither sound to boot and saddle, nor horse 
 and away, nor a charge.’ 
 
 Bunyan had been released from his tedious and 
 cruel imprisonment for conscience sake about ten 
 years, when he published the ‘ Holy War. In 
 this interval of time, although labouring inces¬ 
 santly to win souls to Christ, being a very popular 
 preacher, yet he must have found time to gratify 
 his incessant thirst for knowledge; gaining that 
 he might communicate, and in imparting it, re¬ 
 ceiving into his own mind a rich increase. This 
 would doubtless lead him to read the best of 
 our Puritan and Nonconformists’ works, so that 
 we find him using the Latin words primum 
 mobile , carefully noting in the margin that he 
 meant ‘the soul;’ and from hence he must have 
 scraped acquaintance with Python, Cerberus, and 
 the furies of mythology, whom he uses in this 
 war, describing accurately their names and qua¬ 
 lities. 
 
 At first sight, it may seeip strange that the 
 armies, both within and without the city, should 
 be so numerous, as it is but one man who is the 
 
 object of attack and defence—one human body, 
 containing one immortal Mansoul; but if the reader 
 reflects that every soldier represents a thought, 
 who can number them ? At one time, by the 
 sin-sickness, eleven thousand—men, women, and 
 children—died in Mansoul! this is interpreted by 
 Bunyan to mean, that the men represented ‘ good 
 thoughts ’—the women, ‘ good conceptions —and 
 the children, ‘good desires.’ The town is assaulted 
 by thirty or forty thousand doubts, very curiously 
 and methodically arranged. 
 
 The value of the marginal notes is very great, 
 throwing immediate light upon many difficult pas¬ 
 sages. Every reader should make free use of the 
 key which lieth in the window.* The . The margin< 
 value of this key is seen by a few 
 quotations. Thus, when Diabolus beat a charge 
 against the town, my Lord Reason was wounded 
 in the head—the brave Lord Mayor, Mr. Under¬ 
 standing, in the eye—and ‘many also of the inferior 
 sort were not only wounded, but slain outright. 
 The margin explains this as meaning ‘ Hopeful 
 thoughts.’ 1 When the enemy broke into the town 
 at Feelgate, during a night of terror, and got 
 possession, it is described as being accompanied 
 by all the horrors of war—by atrocities probably 
 even greater than those perpetrated by Rupert’s 
 cavaliers at Leicester. ‘ Young children were 
 dashed in pieces, yea,those unborn were destroyed.’ 
 
 ‘ The women were beastlike abused.’ This is 
 interpreted by two marginal notes—‘ Good and 
 tender thoughts,’ ‘Holy conceptions of good.’ 
 
 The storming of Leicester took place in the 
 night, and furnished Bunyan, who was an eye¬ 
 witness, with a correct notion of raising the stan¬ 
 dard, beleaguring the city, and forcing the gates, 
 and a lively view of the desolations he describes. 
 Awful as is liis account of the sacking of Man- 
 ,soul, with its murders and desolations, yet it may 
 prove to be a good description of the conduct of 
 Prince Rupert and his cavaliers at the storming 
 of Leicester. Strike out the name of Diabolus, 
 and insert Rupert, and put Leicester instead of 
 Mansoul, and the account of the brutal conduct of 
 the Royal army will be found accurately described. 
 Lord Clarendon, who wrote to gain the smiles of 
 royalty, plainly tells us that, when Prince Rupert 
 and the King took Leicester, ‘The conquerors 
 pursued their advantage with the usual license of 
 rapine and plunder, and miserably sacked the 
 whole town, without any distinction of persons and 
 places. Churches and hospitals, as well as other 
 houses, were made a prey to the enraged and 
 greedy soldier, to the exceeding regret of the 
 Kinff.’ Clarendon goes on to account for the 
 exceeding regret of Charles: it was because many 
 
 1 See subsequent page. 
 
ADVERTISEMENT DY THE EDITOR. 
 
 251 
 
 of his faithful friends had suffered, in the confu¬ 
 sion of this murderous scene of rapine and plunder. 
 
 In the ‘ Holy War,* Bunyan has not been, nor 
 can he ever be, charged with copying from any 
 author who preceded him. Erasmus, Gouge, and 
 many other of our Reformers, Puritans, and Non¬ 
 conformists, commented upon the Christian’s arm¬ 
 our and weapons. Benjamin Reach, about the 
 time that the * Holy War ’ appeared, published his 
 War vjith the Devil, or, The Young Man s Conflict 
 with the Powers of Darkness. It is a series of 
 admirable poetical dialogues on the corruption and 
 vanity of youth, the horrible nature of sin, and 
 deplorable condition of fallen man; with the rule 
 of conscience and of true conversion. It has no¬ 
 thing allegorical in it, but is replete with practical 
 warnings and exhortations. No one had ever at¬ 
 tempted, under the form of an allegory, to describe 
 the internal conflict between the powers of dark¬ 
 ness and of the mind in the renewed man; the 
 introduction of evil thoughts and suggestions, their 
 unnatural union with the affections, and the off¬ 
 spring of such union, under the name of Diabolo- 
 nians, who, when Mansoul is watchful unto prayer, 
 lurk in the walls; but when in a backsliding state, 
 are tolerated and encouraged openly to walk the 
 streets. Some'have supposed that there is a slight 
 similarity between the description, given by John 
 Chrysostom of the battle between the hosts of hell 
 and mankind, ancf John Bunyan’s ‘ Holy War.’ It 
 is not at all probable that Bunyan was acquainted 
 with Chrysostom on the Priesthood, which was then 
 locked up in the Greek language, but has been 
 since translated into English. Nor can we find any 
 similarity between the work of the pious apostolically 
 descended tinker, and the learned Greek father. 
 Chrysostom’s picture of the battle is contained in 
 a letter to Basil, urging him to become a minister 1 
 of the gospel. It is in words to this effect:—‘ Pent 
 up in this body, like a dungeon, we cannot discern 
 the invisible powers. Could you behold the black 
 army of the devil and his mad conflict, you would 
 witness a great and arduous battle, in which there 
 is no brass or steel, 1 no horses or wheeled chariots, 
 no fire and arrows, but other instruments much more 
 formidable. No breastplates, or shields, or swords, 
 or darts. The very sight of this accursed host 
 is alone sufficient to paralyze a soul which is not 
 imbued with courage furnished by God, and with 
 even greater foresight than valour. Could you 
 calmly survey all this array and war, you would 
 see, not torrents of blood or dead bodies, but fallen 
 souls ! You would see wounds so grievous, that 
 human war, with all its horrors, is mere child’s 
 play or idle pastime, in comparison to the sight of 
 
 1 All Diabolus’s army are by Bunyan clothed in steel armour. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 so many souls struck down every day by Satan.’ 
 Thus this learned Greek father very eloquently 
 represents the great battle of Satan and his hosts, 
 against all mankind. But for a description of the 
 internal conflict, Diabolus and his army of doubters 
 and bloodmen arrayed against the powers of Man- 
 soul, Bunyan stands alone and most beautifully 
 resplendent. 
 
 In this war there is no combination of souls to 
 resist Satan, nor can any human powers in any 
 way assist us in the trying battle. Here, 0 my 
 reader, you and 1 must stand alone far from the 
 aid of our fellow-men. We must call upon all the 
 resources of our minds, and while there is unity 
 within, no resisting or treason—while the Holy 
 Spirit strengthens and inclines the will, the under¬ 
 standing, the conscience, the affections, and all our 
 powers are united to resist Satan, God fights for 
 us, and the heart is safe under the gracious smiles 
 of our Emmanuel. May we never forget that our 
 spiritual life is totally dependent upon him, in 
 whom, as to the body, we live, and move, and have 
 our being. But when doubts enfeeble us, and 
 bloodmen harass us, there is no help from man. 
 No pope, cardinal, archbishop, minister, or any 
 human power can aid us ; all our hope is in God 
 alone; every effort for deliverance must be by fer¬ 
 vent prayer and supplication, from the heart and 
 conscience, directly to God. Our petitions must 
 be framed by the Holy Ghost, and presented unto 
 Shaddai, not by priest or prelate, but by our 
 Emmanuel, Jesus Christ, the only intercessor and 
 mediator. 
 
 The attentive reader of Bunyan’s works will 
 notice the difference between the trial of Faithful 
 in the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress,’ and that of the pri¬ 
 soners brought to the bar as traitors in the ‘ Holy 
 War.’ The judge and jury are particularly over¬ 
 bearing to Faithful, much more so than to the 
 Diabolonians. Still there is one very strong fea¬ 
 ture in which they all agree. The prisoners are 
 all brought to their trial, not that their guilt or 
 innocence might be proved, but in order to their 
 condemnation and execution. All are brought up 
 in chains, a custom which then was very prevalent, 
 if not universal, but which is now only read of as 
 a cruel practice of a bygone age. 
 
 There are a few riddles or questions arising out 
 of this narrative, the solving of which may afloi’d 
 instructive amusement to the reader. What is 
 meant by the drum of Diabolus, which so terrified 
 ManSOul ? Refer tO Ga. iU. lO. He. vi. 4-8. 1 Jn. v. 16. lie. 
 xii. 29. Why were the troops numbered at forty 
 thousand, that came up to alarm and convince 
 Mansoul of sin, of righteousness, and of judgment, 
 while Emmanuel’s army is not numbered ? See 
 Jos. iv. 13 . He. xu. 22 . When the doubters are slain or 
 driven from Mansoul, after her conversion, they go 
 
252 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 straggling up and down the country enslaving the 
 barbarous people (the margin informs us that the 
 unbeliever never fights the doubters). Why do they 
 go by fives, nines, and seventeens ? Do these odd 
 numbers refer to the nine companies of doubters, 
 and eight of bloodmen, who were under the com¬ 
 mand of five fallen angels—Diabolus, Beelzebub, 
 Lucifer, Legion, and Apollyon? Fearful odds 
 against a poor fallen sinner, five evil spirits, or 
 nine classes of doubts, or these nine doubts united 
 to eight kinds of bloodmen or persecutors. 
 
 In a work so highly allegorical, and founded 
 upon a plain narrative of facts in the experience 
 of the author, the editor deemed it needful to add 
 numerous notes. These contain all that appeared 
 to be explanatory or illustrative in other commen¬ 
 taries, with many that are original; obsolete terms 
 and customs are explained ; references are given to 
 about fifty passages in the ‘ Grace Abounding,’ 
 that the reader’s attention may be constantly 
 directed to the solemn truths which are displayed 
 under this delightful allegory. The editor has 
 the consolation of hoping that the result of great 
 labour can do no injury. Those whose deep expe¬ 
 rience in the spiritual warfare enables them to un¬ 
 derstand and enjoy the allegory, can pass them by; 
 while many of the poor but immortal souls engaged 
 in this warfare, who are not deeply experienced, 
 may receive aid and encouragement to persevere, 
 until they shall exclaim, The battle is fought, the 
 victory is one, eternal praises to the great and 
 gracious Emmanuel. 
 
 Reader, I must not detain you much longer from 
 the pleasure of entering upon a narrative so deeply 
 interesting to all who possess the understanding 
 heart—an allegory, believed by very many to be 
 the most beautiful and extraordinary that mere 
 hurpan genius ever composed in any language. 
 0 consider the worth of an immortal soul! God 
 sent his servants, Moses and the prophets, with 
 their slings and battering-rams, their great and 
 precious promises to the early prophets , who have 
 faithfully handed them down to us ; and then came 
 Emmanuel and his heavenly army, and all this to 
 conquer Mansoul! Without the shedding of blood, 
 there is no remission of sin. The blood of bulls 
 and of goats cannot wash out our stains. We must 
 be found in Christ as part of his mystical body, 
 and thus in perfection obey the Divine law, and 
 then, through the sin-atoning offering of Emmanuel, 
 God’s equal, eternal Son, a fountain is opened for 
 sin and uncleanness, in which, our souls, being puri¬ 
 fied, shall be clothed with the garment of salvation. 
 Who can calculate the worth of his immortal soul, 
 that God himself should pay so costly a price for 
 
 its redemption! May the desire of every reader 
 be, 0 that my soul may be engaged in this holy 
 war, my ears be alarmed by the infernal drum of 
 Diabolus, that my Heart-castle may receive the 
 King of salvation, and Christ be found there the 
 hope of glory. Then may we feel the stern neces¬ 
 sity of incessant watchfulness and prayer against 
 carnal security, or any other cause of backsliding, 
 with its consequent miseries. 
 
 Well may the world wonder, how a poor travel¬ 
 ling tinker could gain the extraordinary know¬ 
 ledge, which enabled him to become the greatest 
 allegorical writer that the world ever saw. The 
 
 O % 
 
 reason is obvious, he lived and moved and had Ins 
 being in the atmosphere of God’s revealed will. 
 It was this that enabled him to take the wings 
 of the morning, and fly not only to the uttermost 
 parts of the visible but of the invisible world; to 
 enjoy scenes of light and glory, such as Gabriel 
 contemplated when he came from heaven to Naz¬ 
 areth, and revealed to Mary her high destiny— 
 that her Son should be the promised Saviour, who 
 should bear the government of the universe upon 
 his shoulders—whose name was Wonderful—Coun¬ 
 sellor—the Mighty God—the everlasting Father— 
 the Prince of Peace—Emmanuel, God with us. 
 
 Bunyan’s industry and application must have 
 been intense, he could not by possibility for a single 
 moment say, ‘ soul take thine ease,’ inglorious, de¬ 
 structive ease. His hands had to labour for his 
 bread, and to provide for a most exemplary wife 
 and four childern, one of them blind. There was 
 no hour of his life when he could have said to his 
 soul, Let all thy noble powers be absorbed in eating, 
 drinking, being merry—mere animal gratifications. 
 The Holy War, the solemn results depending upon 
 it, salvation or eternal ruin, the strong desire to 
 glorify Emmanuel, the necessity to labour for his 
 household—that blessed industry left him no op¬ 
 portunity for weaving a web of unmeaning casuistic 
 subtilties, in which to entangle and engulph his 
 soul, like a Puseyite or a German Rationalist. The 
 thunders and lightnings of Sinai had burnt up all 
 this wood, hay, and stubble, and with child-like 
 simplicity he depended upon the Holy Spirit, while 
 drawing all his consolations and all his spiritual 
 supplies from the sacred Scriptures. 
 
 Bunyan’s narrative of the Holy War, from its 
 commencement in the fall of man to that splendid 
 address of Emmanuel with which it concludes, has 
 been the study of the Editor for more than forty 
 years, and he hopes that no future year of the 
 residue of his life will be spent without reading 
 this solemn, soul-stirring, delightful narrative. 
 
 Hackney, April 1851. GeQ. OffQH. 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 5 Tis strange to me, that they that love to tell 
 Things done of old, yea, and that do excel 
 Their equals in historiology, 
 
 Speak not of Mansoul’s wars, but let them lie 
 Dead, like old fables, or such worthless things, 
 
 That to the reader no advantage brings: 
 
 When men , let them make what they will their own, 
 Till they know this, are to themselves unknoicn. 
 
 Of stories I well know there’s divers sorts, 
 Some foreign, some domestic; and reports 
 Are thereof made, as fancy leads the writers; 
 
 By books a man may guess at the inditers. 
 
 Some will again of that which never urns, 
 
 Nor will be, feign, and that without a cause, 
 
 Such matter, raise such mountains, tell such things 
 Of men, of laws, of countries, and of kings : 
 
 And in their story seem to be so sage, 
 
 And with such gravity clothe ev’ry page. 
 
 That* though their frontispiece say all is vain, 
 
 Yet to their way disciples they obtain. 1 # 
 
 But, readers, I have somewhat else to do. 
 
 Than with vain stories thus to trouble you; 
 
 Christians. ^hat ^ ere ^ sa y> some men do know so well, 
 They can with tears and joy the story tell. 
 The town of Mansoul is well known to many, 
 Nor are her troubles doubted of by any 
 Scriptures, That are acquainted with those histories 
 That Mansoul, and her wars, anatomize. 
 Then lend thine ear to what I do relate 
 Touching the town of Mansoul and her state. 
 
 How she was lost, took captive, made a slave; 
 
 And how against him set, that should her save. 
 
 Yea, how by hostile ways, she did oppose 
 Her Lord, and with his enemy did close. 
 
 For they are true; he that will them deny 
 Must needs the best of records vilify. 
 
 For my part, I (myself) was in the town, 
 
 Both when ’twas set up, and when pulling down, 
 
 I saw Diabolus in his possession, 
 
 And Mansoul also under his oppression. 
 
 Yea, I was there when she own’d him for lord. 
 
 And to him did submit with one accord. 
 
 A ery few persons can imagine what trumpery trash was 
 circulated by hawkers and chapmen in Bunyan’s time, and 
 even to the period when the Tract Society was established. 
 Lying wonders and lewd stories were eagerly read, to the de¬ 
 struction ot millions. Thanks to the piety of Sunday-school 
 teachers, their supplications were heard, and our youth, when 
 taught to read, are now supplied with nutritious literary food, 
 by the aid of that invaluable society.—(E d,) 
 
 When Mansoul trampled upon things Divine, 
 And wallowed in filth as doth a swine; 
 
 When she betook herself unto her arms, 
 
 Fought her Emmanuel, despis’d his charms. 
 
 Then I was there, and did rejoice to see 
 Diabolus and Mansoul so agree. 2 3 4 
 
 His 
 
 Counsels. 
 
 Let no men, then, count me a fable-maker. 
 
 Nor make my name or credit a partaker 
 Of their derision; what is here in view, 
 
 Of mine own knowledge, I dare say is true. 
 
 I saw the prince’s armed men come down, 
 
 By troops, by thousands, to besiege the town. 
 
 I saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound. 
 
 And how his forces cover’d all the ground. 
 
 Yea, how they set themselves in battle-ray, 
 
 I shall remember to my dying day. 
 
 I saw the colours waving in the wind, 
 
 And they within to mischief how combin’d. 
 
 To ruin Mansoul, and to make away 
 
 Her primum mobile* without delay. Her Soul. 
 
 I saw the mounts cast up against the town, 
 
 And how the slings were placed to beat it down. 
 
 I heard the stones fly whizzing by mine ears, 
 
 What longer kept in mind than got in fears, 
 
 I heard them fall, and saw what work they made. 
 And how old Mors did cover with his shade 
 The face of Mansoul; and I heard her cry, 
 
 Woe worth the day, in dying I shall die! 
 
 I saw the battering rams, and how they play’d, 1 
 To beat ope Ear-gate, and I was afraid 
 Not only Ear-gate, but the very town, 
 
 Would by those battering rams be beaten down. 
 
 I saw the fights, and heard the captains shout. 
 And each in battle saw who faced about; 
 
 I saw who wounded were, and who were slain; Lusts. 
 And who, when dead, would come to life again. 
 
 I heard the cries of those that wounded were. 
 While others fought like men bereft of fear. 
 
 And while the cry, Kill, kill, was in mine ears, 
 
 The gutters ran, not so with blood as tears. 
 
 Indeed, the captains did not always fight. 
 
 But then they would molest us day and night; 
 
 2 Bunyan, in his Grace Abounding, No. 4, thus records 
 that awful period of his experience—‘ It was my delight to he 
 taken captive by the devil at his will.’ In 1752, aud even in 
 Burder’s edition, the line is strangely altered to— 
 
 ‘ Then I was there, and grieved for to see.’—(E d.) 
 
 3 Terms much used by writers in Bunyan’s time, meaning, 
 as stated in the margin, ‘her soul.’— Ed. 
 
 4 ‘The battering rams’ are the books of Holy Scripture; 
 see margin, p. 280 .—(Ed.) 
 
254 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 Their cry, Up, fall on, let us take tlie town, 
 
 Kept us from sleeping, or from lying down. 
 
 I was there when the gates were broken ope, 
 
 And saw how Mansoul then was stript of hope.' 
 
 I saw the captains march into the town, 
 
 How there they fought, and did their foes cut down. 
 
 I heard the prince bid Boanerges go 
 Up to the castle, and there seize his foe, 
 
 And saw him.and his fellows bring him down 
 In chains of great contempt quite through the town.. 
 
 I saw Emmanuel when he possest 
 His town of Mansoul, and how greatly blest 
 A town, his gallant town of Mansoul was, 
 
 When she received his pardon, lived his laws ! 
 
 When the Diabolonians were caught, 
 
 When tried, and when to execution brought, 
 
 Then I was there; yea, I was standing by 
 When Mansoul did the rebels crucify. 
 
 I also saw Mansoul clad all in white, 
 
 And heard her prince call her his heart’s delight. 
 
 I saw him put upon her chains of gold, 
 
 And rings, and bracelets, goodly to behold. 
 
 What shall I say ?—I heard the people’s cries, 
 And saw the prince wipe tears from Mansoui’s 
 eyes. 
 
 I heard the groans, and saw the joy of many: 
 
 Tell you of all, I neither will, nor can I. 
 
 But by what here I say, you well may see 
 That Mansoui’s matchless wars no fables be. 
 
 Mansoul! the desire of both princes was, 
 
 One keep his gain would, t’other gain his loss; 
 Diabolus would cry, The town is mine; 
 
 Emmanuel would plead a right Divine 
 Unto bis Mansoul; then to blows they go, 
 
 And Mansoul cries, These wars will me undo. 
 
 Mansoul!' her wars seem’d endless in her eyes, 
 She’s lost by one, becomes another’s prize. 
 
 And he again that lost her last would swear, 
 
 Have her I will, or her in pieces tear. 
 
 Mansoul, it was the very seat of war. 
 
 Wherefore her troubles greater were by far, 
 
 Than only where the noise of war is heard, 
 
 Or where the shaking of a sword is fear’d, 
 
 Or only where small skirmishes are fought, 
 
 Or where the fancy fighteth with a thought. 
 
 1 ‘ I felt such a clogging and heat at my stomach, by reason 
 of my terrors, that 1 was, especially at some times, as if my 
 breast-hone would split asunder .’—{Grace Abounding, No.] 64.) 
 
 2 The death of the body, or loss of a limb, is as nothing 
 compared with the eternal loss of a never-dying soul.—(E d.) 
 
 3 This line, in the first edition, is at the bottom of a page. 
 In many copies, viz., in that ofl752, printed both at London 
 and at Glasgow; that with Mason’s notes, 1782; and that 
 with Adam’s notes, 1795, &c., this line is omitted, and one 
 inserted to make up the rhyme— 
 
 ‘They are the only men that have science.’ 
 
 She saw the swords of fighting men made red, 
 And heard the cries of those with them wounded; 
 Must not her frights then be much more by far. 
 Than theirs that to such doings strangers are ? 
 
 Or theirs that hear the beating of a drum, 
 
 But not made fly for fear from house and home ? 
 
 Mansoul not only heard the trumpet sound. 
 
 But saw her gallants gasping on the ground; 
 Wlierefore, we must not think that she could rest 
 With them, whose greatest earnest is but jest: 
 
 Or where the blust’ring threat’ning of great wars 
 Do end in parleys, or in wording jars. 
 
 Mansoul, her mighty wars, they did portend 
 Her weal or woe, and that world without end; 
 Wlierefore she must be more concerned than they 
 Whose fears begin and end the self-same day: 
 
 Or where none other harm doth come to him 
 That is engaged, but loss of life or limb, 1 2 
 As all must needs confess that now do dwell 
 In Universe, and can this story tell. 
 
 Count me not then with them that to amaze 
 The people, set them on the stars to gaze. 
 Insinuating with much confidence, 
 
 That each of them is now the residence 3 
 Of some brave creatures; yea, a world they will 
 Have in each star, though it be past their skill 
 To make it manifest to any man. 
 
 That reason hath, or tell his fingers can. 4 
 
 But I have too long held thee in the porch, 
 
 And kept thee from the sunshine with a torch. 
 Well, now go forward, step within the door, 
 
 And there behold five hundred times much more 
 Of all sorts of such inward rarities 
 As please the mind will, and will feed the eyes 
 With those, which if a Christian, thou wilt see 
 Not small, but tilings of greatest moment be. 
 
 Nor do thou go to work without my key 
 (In mysteries men soon do lose their way). 
 
 And also turn it right if thou wouldst know 
 My riddle, and wouldst with my heifer plough. 
 
 It lies there in the window, fare thee 
 
 The margeut.s 
 
 well, 
 
 My next may be t;o ring thy passing-bell. 
 
 Jo. Bunyan. 
 
 4 It is not surprising that Bunyan wondered at the con¬ 
 fidence with which these speculations were published. His 
 knowledge of invisible things was drawn exclusively from the . 
 Bible, which is silent upon the subject of a plurality of worlds. 
 He does not say there is no such thing, but that it cannot be 
 demonstrated.— (Ed.) 
 
 5 Bunyan intended his marginal notes as a key to the text. 
 How strikingly does this illustrate the first page of his ‘ Pil¬ 
 grim’—‘I lighted on a certain place where was a den;’ the 
 margin is a key to show that it was written in ‘ the jail.’ So, 
 in the latter part of the ‘ Holy War,’ the Diabolonians dashed 
 young children in pieces; the margin explains this to meaiy 
 ‘good and tender thoughts.’—(E d.) 
 
A RELATION 
 
 THE 
 
 OP 
 
 HOLY WAR. 
 
 [Chapter I.] 
 
 [Contents: —The original beauty and splendour of the town of 
 Mansoul, while under the dominion of Shaddai—Its noble 
 castle described—Its five gates—The perfection of its in¬ 
 habitants—I he origin of Diabolus—His pride and fall— 
 Revenge meditated—A council of war held to deliberate 
 on the best means of seducing the town of Mansoul— 
 Diabolus marches to the tbwn, and sits down before Eye- 
 , gate—liis oration—Captain Resistance slain—My Lord 
 Innocence killed—The town taken.] 
 
 In my travels, as I walked through many regions 
 and countries, it was my chance to happen into 
 that famous continent of Universe; a very large 
 and spacious country it is. It lieth between the 
 two poles, and just amidst the four points of the 
 heavens. It is a place well-watered, and richly 
 adorned with hills and valleys, bravely situate ; 
 and for the most part (at least where I was) very 
 fruitful, also well peopled, and a very sweet air. 
 
 The people are not all of one complexion, nor 
 yet of one language, mode, or way of religion ; but 
 differ as much as, it is said, do the planets them¬ 
 selves. Some are right, and some are wrong, 
 even as it happeneth to be in lesser regions. 
 
 In this country, as I said, it was my lot to 
 travel, and there travel I did ; and that so lono;, 
 
 O 7 
 
 even till I learned much of their mother-tongue, 
 together with the customs and manners of them 
 
 A natural state am0n S whom 1 was - A " cl speak 
 pleasing to the truth, I was much delighted to see 
 
 and hear many things which I saw 
 and heard among them. Yea, I had (to be sure) 
 even lived and died a native among them, so was 
 I taken with them and their doings, had not my 
 ^ . Master sent for me home to his house, 
 
 Christ. . 9 
 
 there to do business for him, and to 
 over-see business done. 1 
 
 Now there is in this gallant country of Universe 
 a lair and delicate town, a corporation, called 
 
 1 With what Christian simplicity is this most important 
 history introduced. The author, a traveller in the world, de¬ 
 lighted with its customs, would have perished in his sins, but 
 that God called him to his service and salvation.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Mansoul, or, as the margin reads, man, so fearfully aud 
 wonderfully made, was glorious in his original sinless state, 
 but will be infinitely more glorious if saved to eternal bliss, 
 by union with Christ.— (Ed.) 
 
 Alan. 
 
 Mansoul. A town for its building so curious, for 
 its situation so commodious, for its 
 privileges so advantageous—I mean 
 with reference to its original—that I may say of 
 it, as was said before of the continent in which it 
 is placed, There is not its equal under the whole 
 heaven. 2 
 
 As to the situation of this town, it lieth just 
 between the two worlds, and the first founder, 
 and builder of it, so far as by the 
 best and most authentic records I SciII ’ tuies - 
 can gather, was one Shaddai; and he built it for 
 his own delight. 3 lie made it the 
 mirror and glory of all that he made, The " Lin = aty - 
 even the top-piece, beyond anything else that he 
 did in that country. Ge. i. 26 . Yea, so goodly a 
 town was Mansoul, when first built, that, it is said 
 by some, the gods, at the setting up 
 
 , i /» . . .. Created angels. 
 
 thereof, came down to see it, and sang 
 for joy. And as he made it goodly to behold, so 
 also mighty to have dominion over all the country 
 round about. Yea, all was commanded to ac¬ 
 knowledge Mansoul for their metropolitan, all was 
 enjoined to do homage to it. Aye, the town itself 
 had positive commission and power from her King 
 to demand service of all, and also to subdue any 
 that any ways denied to do it. 
 
 There was reared up in the midst of this town 
 a most famous and stately palace. 
 
 For strength, it might be called a 
 castle ; for pleasantness, a paradise ; for largeness, 
 a place so copious as to contain all the world. 
 Ec. m. li. This palace the King Shaddai intended 
 but for himself alone, and not another with : m; 4 
 partly because of his own delights and partly 
 because he would not that the terror of strangers 
 should be upon the town. This place T i, e powers of 
 Shaddai made also a garrisf i of, but the soul. 
 
 3 The name *h®> Shaddai, one of the,»ames of God, means 
 ‘ the pourer forth,’ the source of existence, the all-bountiful, 
 the all-mighty, in whom we live, aud move, and have our 
 being. If lie withhold his blessings, the universe must 
 perish. * Lo> cl, what is man, that thou shouldst be mindful of 
 him?’—(E, d.) 
 
 4 Professor, if thy heart he idolatrous, or devoted to the 
 world-and thy lusts, thy religion is vain, thou deceivest thine 
 own soul. God says to all, ‘ My son, give me thine heart.’ 
 IT. xjiii. 26.—(Mason.) 
 
 The heart. 
 
/ 
 
 256 
 
 THE HOLY WAIL 
 
 The Body. 
 
 The five senses. 
 
 committed tlie keeping of it only to the men of 
 the town. 
 
 The wall of the town was well built, yea, so fast 
 and firm was it knit and compact together, that 
 had it not been for the townsmen themselves, they 
 could not have been shaken or broken for ever. 
 
 For here lay the excellent wisdom of him that 
 built Mansoul, that the walls could 
 never be broken down, nor hurt, by 
 the most mighty adverse potentate, unless the 
 townsmen gave consent thereto. 
 
 This famous town of Mansoul had five gates in 
 at which to come, out at which to go, and these 
 were made likewise answerable to the walls, to 
 wit, impregnable, and such as could never be 
 opened nor forced but by the will and leave of 
 those within. The names of the gates were 
 these, Ear-gate, Eye-gate, Mouth - 
 gate, Nose-gate, and Feel-gate . 1 
 
 Other things there were that belonged to the 
 town of Mansoul, which, if you adjoin to these, 
 will yet give further demonstration to all of the 
 
 The state of &W and stren gth of the place. It 
 Mansoul at had always a sufficiency of provision 
 
 within its walls ; it had the best, most 
 wholesome, and excellent law that then was extant 
 in the world. There was not a rascal, rogue, or 
 traitorous person then within its walls. They were 
 all true men, and fast joined together ; and this, 
 you know, is a great matter. And to all these, 
 it was always—so long as it had the goodness to 
 keep true to Shaddai the king—his countenance, 
 his protection, and it was his delight, <fec. 
 
 Well, upon a time there was one 
 Diabolus , 2 a mighty giant, made an 
 assault upon this famous town of Mansoul, to take 
 it, and make it his own habitation. This giant 
 
 Sinners, the ’ svas king of the blacks or negroes , 3 
 fallen angels. an d a m ost raving prince he was. 
 
 We will, if you please, first discourse of the origi¬ 
 nal of this Diabolus, and then of his 
 Th Diaboius! m taking of this famous town of Man¬ 
 soul. 
 
 This Diabolus is indeed a great and mighty 
 prince, and yet both poor and beggarly. As to 
 his original, he was at first one of the servants 
 of King Shaddai, made, and taken, and put bv 
 him into most high and mighty place, yea, was 
 put into such principalities as belonged to the 
 
 The Devil. 
 
 1 The five senses (see the margin) are the gates to Mansoul. 
 While they were guarded, no enemy could injure the town; 
 now they require a double watch.—(El?.) 
 
 2 AtzpoXos (Diabolus) is frequently used in- the New Testa¬ 
 ment. It is translated ‘a slanderer,’ ‘an accuser,’ and ‘ad¬ 
 versary and, in Mat. iv. 1; He. xii. 9; xx 2, ‘Tin prince ol 
 devils.’ It is the same as * 13 ® (Satan), in Hebrew.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 It must not he supposed that this is a reflection upeha the 
 unhappy sons of Africa who had been sold into slavery. The 
 
 margin is the key to the meaning of the words; ‘ blacks ox 
 
 best of his territories and dominions. This Dia¬ 
 bolus was made son of the morning, and a brave 
 place he had of it. is. xiv. 12. It brought him much 
 glory, and gave him much brightness, an income 
 that might have contented his Lueiferian heart, had 
 it not been insatiable, and enlarged as hell itself. 
 
 Well, lie seeing himself thus exalted to great¬ 
 ness and honour, and raging in his mind for higher 
 state and degree, what doth he but begins to 
 think with himself how he might be set up as 
 Lord over all, and have the. sole power under 
 Shaddai! Now that did the King reserve for his 
 Son, yea, and had already bestowed it upon him. 
 Wherefore he first consults with himself what had 
 best to be done, and then breaks his mind to some 
 other of his companions, to the which they also 
 agreed. So, in fine, they came to this issue, that 
 they should make an attempt upon the King’s Son 
 to destroy him, that the inheritance might be 
 theirs. Well, to be short, the treason, as I said, 
 was concluded, the time appointed, the word given, 
 the rebels rendezvoused, and the assault attempted . 4 
 Now the King and his Soip being all and always 
 eye, could not but discern'all passages in his do¬ 
 minions ; and he having always love for his Son as 
 for himself, could not, at what he saw, but be 
 greatly provoked and offended; wherefore, what 
 does he, but takes them in the very nick ; and, first 
 trip that they made towards their design, convicts 
 them of the treason, horrid rebellion, and conspir¬ 
 acy that they had devised, and now attempted to 
 put into practice; and casts them altogether out 
 of all place of trust, benefit, honour, and prefer¬ 
 ment. This done, he banishes them the court; 
 turns them down into the horrible pits, as fast 
 bound in chains, never more to expect the least 
 favour from his hands, but to abide the judgment 
 that he had appointed, and that for ever. 2 Pe. ii. 4; 
 
 Jude 6 . 
 
 And yet, now, they being thus cast out of all 
 place of trust, profit, and honour, and also know¬ 
 ing that they had lost their prince’s favour for 
 ever, being banished his courts, and cast down to 
 the horrible pits, you may be sure they would now 
 add to their former pride what malice and rago 
 against Shaddai, and against his Son, they could. 
 
 negroes ’ mean ‘ sinners, the fallen angels.’ Negro slaves were 
 believed to be convicted criminals sold to the whites for trans¬ 
 portation. English convicts were, at that time, sold as slaves 
 to the planters in the West Indies. A man, for merely being 
 a Quaker, was thus sold as a slave in New England. The 
 horrors that were disclosed in this diabolical traffic stamps a 
 demon character upon every slave-dealer or holder. The prin¬ 
 cipal of these are negroes, who steal their fellows ; and, like 
 black devils, sell them to the white devils, who hold these poor 
 creatures in slavery.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 ‘ And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels 
 fought against the dragon, and the dragon fought, and his 
 angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any 
 more in heaven.’ Ee. xii. 1, 8. 
 
 \ 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 257 
 
 Wherefore, roving and ranging in much fury from 
 place to place, if perhaps they might find some¬ 
 thing that was the King’s, to revenge (by spoiling 
 of that themselves) on him, ire. v. 8; at last they 
 happened into this spacious country of Universe, 
 and steer their course towards the town of Man- 
 soul ; and considering that that town was one of 
 the chief works and delights of King Shaddai, 
 what do they, but, after counsel taken, make an 
 assault upon that! 1 say they knew that Mansoul 
 
 belonged unto Shaddai, for they were there when 
 he built it, and beautified it for himself. 1 So 
 when they had found the-pfhce, they shouted hor¬ 
 ribly for joy, and roared on it as a lion upon the 
 prey, saying. Now we have found the prize, and 
 how to be revenged on King Shaddai 
 
 A council of war r 0 _ 
 
 held by Diabo- for what he hath done to us. So 
 
 Sows^ag'ainst ^ ie } r sat down, and called a council 
 
 the town of 0 f war and considered with tliem- 
 Mansoul. 
 
 selves what ways and methods they 
 had best to engage in, for .the winning to them¬ 
 selves this famous town of Mansoul; and these four 
 things were then propounded to be considered 
 of. First. Whether they had best, all of them, to 
 show themselves in this design to the 
 town of Mansoul. Second. Whether 
 they had best to go and sit down against Mansoul, 
 in their now ragged and beggarly guise. Third. 
 Whether they had best to show to Mansoul their 
 intentions, and what design they came about, or 
 whether to assault it with words and ways of 
 deceit. Fourth. Whether they had not best, to 
 some of their companions, to give out private 
 orders to take the advantage, if they see one or 
 more of the principal townsmen, to shoot them ; if 
 thereby they shall judge their cause and design 
 will the better be promoted. 
 
 First. It was answered to the first of these pro- 
 To the first pro- posals in the negative, to wit, that it 
 posai. would not be best that all should show 
 themselves before the town, because the appearance 
 of many of them might alarm and fright the town ; 
 whereas a few, or but one of them, was not so 
 / likely to do it. And to enforce this advice to take 
 place, it was added further, that if Mansoul was 
 frighted, or did take the alarm, it is impossible, 
 said Diabolus—for he spake now—that we should 
 take the town ; for that none can enter into it with- 
 
 1 Mr. Burder supposes that the fall of the angels took place 
 after the creation of man, because Job says that at the laying 
 the foundation of the world, ‘The morning stars sang together, 
 and the sons of God shouted for joy’ (xxxviii. 7). But angels 
 in a fallen state had forfeited their high and exalted.titles and 
 glory. —(Ed.) 
 
 2 This agrees with Milton as to the perfect freedom of the 
 will before the fall:— 
 
 ‘ God made thee perfect, not immutable; 
 
 And good he made thee; but to persevere 
 He left it in thy power; ordained thy will 
 liy nature free .—(Paradise Lost, B. v.) 
 
 VOL. Ill 
 
 Aleeto-ApoUyon. 
 
 out its own consent. 2 Let therefore but few or 
 but one assault Mansoul, and in mine opinion, said 
 Diabolus, let me be he. Wherefore to this they 
 all agreed, and then to the second proposal they 
 came, namely, 
 
 Second. Whether they had best to go and sit 
 down before Mansoul in their notv The second pro- 
 ragged and beggarly guise. To which P osal - 
 it was answered also in the negative, By no means; 
 and that because though the town of Mansoul had 
 been made to know and to have to do, before now, 
 with things that are invisible, they did never as 
 yet see any of their fellow-creatures in so sad and 
 rascal condition as they. And this was the advice 
 of that fierce Alecto. 3 Then said 
 Apollyon, the advic£ is pertinent, 
 for even one of us appearing to them as we are 
 now, must needs both beget and multiply such 
 thoughts in them as will both put them into a 
 consternation of spirit, and necessitate them to put 
 themselves upon their guard. And if so, said he, 
 then, as my lord Alecto 3 said but now, it is in vain 
 for us to think of taking the town. Then said 
 that mighty giant Beelzebub, the advice 
 
 . i .-l i • •' • <> p i i Beelzebub. 
 
 that already is given is sate; tor though 
 the men of Mansoul have seen such things as we 
 once were, yet hitherto they did never behold such 
 things as we now are. And it is best, in mine 
 opinion, to come upon them in such a guise as is 
 common to, and most familiar among them. 4 To 
 this, when they had consented, the next thing to be 
 considered was, in what shape, hue, or guise, Dia¬ 
 bolus had best to show himself, when he went 
 about to make Mansoul his own. Then one said 
 one thing, and another the contrary; at last Lucifer 
 answered, that in his opinion it was 
 best that his lordship should assume 
 the body of some of those creatures that they of 
 the town had dominion over. For, quoth he, these 
 are not only familiar to them, but being under them, 
 they will never imagine that an attempt should by 
 them be made upon the town ; and, to blind all, 
 let him assume the body of one of these beasts 
 that Mansoul deems to be wiser than any of the 
 rest. Ge. iii. l. Re. xx. i, 2. This advice was applaud¬ 
 ed of all ; so it was determined that the giant 
 Diabolus should assume the dragon, for that he 
 was in those days as familiar with the town of 
 Mansoul as now is the bird with the bov. For 
 
 3 It is evident that Bunyan thought that a fury, whose every 
 hair was a living snake, ought rather to he a male than a 
 female, as generally pictured; hut, query, was it in the original 
 manuscript Diabolus, mistaken by the printer for Alecto. lie 
 had given this advice. Some editors have altered the name; 
 but as it is Alecto in all Bunyan’s own editions, it is here 
 continued.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 If devils cordially unite in the work of destruction, how 
 ought Christians to unite in their efforts to promote tire king¬ 
 dom of Christ. AVe should be ‘ wise as serpents,’ while ‘ harm¬ 
 less as doves.’—(E d.) 
 
 S3 
 
258 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 nothing that was in its primitive state was at all 
 amazing to them. 1 Then they proceeded to the 
 third thing, which was, 
 
 Third. Whether they had best to show their in- 
 The third pro- tentions or the design of his coming 
 posal. to Mansoul, or no. This also was 
 answered in the negative, because of the weight 
 that was in the former reasons, to wit, for that 
 Mansoul were a strong people, a strong people 
 in a strong town, whose wall and gates were im¬ 
 pregnable, to say nothing of their castle, nor can 
 they by any means be won but by their own con¬ 
 sent. Besides, said Legion 2 (for he gave answer 
 to this), a discovery of our intentions may make 
 them send to their King for aid, and if that be 
 done, I know quickly what time of day it will be 
 with us. Therefore let us assault them in all pre¬ 
 tended fairness, covering of our intentions with all 
 manner of lies, flatteries, delusive words ; feigning 
 of things that never will be, and promising of that 
 to them that they shall never find. This is the 
 way to win Mansoul, and to make them, of them¬ 
 selves, to open their gates to us ; yea, and to desire 
 us too, to come in to them. 
 
 And the reason why I think that this project 
 will do is, because the people of Mansoul now 
 are every one simple and innocent ; all honest and 
 true ; nor do they as yet know what it is to be 
 assaulted with fraud, guile, and hypocrisy. They 
 are strangers to lying and dissembling 
 lips ; wherefore we cannot, if thus we 
 be disguised, by them at all be discerned; our lies 
 shall go for true sayings, and our dissimulations 
 for upright dealings. What we promise them, 
 they will in that believe us, especially if in all 
 our lies and feigned words we pretend great love 
 to them, and that our design is only their advan¬ 
 tage and honour. Now there was not one bit of 
 a reply against this; this went as current down as 
 doth the water down a steep descent; wherefore 
 they go to consider of the last proposal, which was, 
 Fourth. Whether t^ey had not best to give out 
 The fourth pro- orders to some of their company, to 
 posah shoot some one or more of the prin¬ 
 cipal of the townsmen, if they judge that their 
 cause may be promoted thereby. 
 
 This was carried in the affirmative, and the man 
 
 1 la this infernal conference the names are well chosen. 
 Apollyon signifies the Destroyer; Beelzebub, the Prince of 
 Devils; Lucifer, the Morning Star, a fallen angel, the arch¬ 
 devil ; Alecto, a heathen name of one of the furies, whose head 
 was covered with snakes, and who was full of vengeance; 
 Tisiphone, another of the furies.—(Burder.) 
 
 2 ‘Legion;’ a military term. Among the Romans, five 
 thousand men. An indefinite number. Mar. v. 9.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Resistance to the first sin is of the utmost importance:— 
 
 * Sin will at first, just like a beggar, crave 
 One penny or one halfpenny to have; 
 
 And, if you grant its first suit, *t will aspire 
 
 From pence to pounds, and so will still mount higher 
 
 To the whole soul.’—(Bunyan’s Caution, vol. ii. p. 575.) 
 
 tliat was designed by this stratagem to be de¬ 
 stroyed was one Mr. Resistance, otherwise called 
 Captain Resistance. And a great man QfCapt Resist- 
 in Mansoul this Captain Resistance ance. 
 was; and a man that the giant Diabolus 
 and his band more feared than they feared the whole 
 town of Mansoul besides. 3 Now who should be 
 the actor to do the murder, that was the next, 
 and they appointed one Tisiphone, a fury of the 
 lake, to do it. 
 
 They thus having ended their council of war, 
 rose up, and essayed to do as they The result of 
 had determined. They marched to- their council - 
 wards Mansoul, but all in a manner invisible, 
 save one, only one ; nor did he approach the town 
 in his own likeness, but under the shape and in 
 the body of the dragon. 4 
 
 So they drew up, and sat down before Ear-gate, 
 for that was the place of hearing for all without 
 the town, as Eye-gate was the place of perspection. 
 So, as I said, he came up with his Diabolus march- 
 train to the gate, and laid his ambus- towuf and calls 
 cado for Captain Resistance within for audience, 
 bow-shot of the town. This done, the giant 
 ascended up close to the gate, and called to the town 
 of Mansoul for audience. Nor took he any with 
 him, but one All-pause, 5 who was his orator in all 
 difficult matters. Now, as I said, he being come 
 up to the gate, as the manner of those times was, 
 sounded his trumpet for audience. At which the 
 chief of the town of Mansoul, such as The Lords o{ 
 my Lord Innocent, my Lord Will-be- Mansoul ap- 
 will, 6 7 my Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder, 7 peaie<L 
 and Captain Resistance came down to the wall to 
 see who was there, and what was the matter. 
 And my Lord Will-be-will, when he had looked over 
 and saw who stood at the gate, demanded what 
 he was, wherefore he was come, and why he roused 
 the town of Mansoul with so unusual a sound. 
 
 Diab. Diabolus then, as if he had been a lamb, 
 began his oration, and said; Gentle¬ 
 men of the famous town of Mansoul, 
 
 I am, as you may perceive, no far dweller from 
 you, but near, and one that is bound by the King 
 to do you my homage, and what service I can ; 
 wherefore, that I may be faithful to myself, and to 
 you, I have somewhat of concern to impart unto 
 you. Wherefore grant me your audience, and 
 hear me patiently. And, first, I will assure you, 
 
 Diabolus’s 
 
 oration. 
 
 4 ‘ The dragon;’ a scriptural name of the devil; see Re. xii. 
 
 xiii.—(E d.) 
 
 6 In the early editions this dangerous enemy is called All¬ 
 pause when first introduced, but always afterwards Ill-pause. 
 — (Ed.) . . . . 
 
 6 The will by which we determine for or against an action. 
 
 7 The Recorder is conscience, by which we judge of an action 
 as good or bad, according to the light we enjoy, whether By 
 the law of nature or by the written law. Conscience records 
 our actions; and, in the day of judgment, the book of con¬ 
 science is one of those which shall be opened.—(Burder.) 
 
THE HOLY AVAR. 
 
 259 
 
 it is not myself, but you; not mine, but your ad¬ 
 vantage that I seek, by what I now do, as will full 
 well be made manifest by that I have opened my 
 mind unto you. For, gentlemen, I am, to tell you 
 the truth, come to show you how you may obtain 
 great and ample deliverance from a bondage that, 
 unawares to yourselves, you are captivated and 
 enslaved under. At this the town of Mansoul 
 Mansoul began to prick up its ears, and what 
 engaged. j s pray, what is it, thought they; 
 and he said, I have somewhat to say to you con¬ 
 cerning your King, concerning his law, and also 
 touching yourselves. Touching your King, I know 
 he is great and potent, but yet all that he hath 
 said to you is neither true, nor yet for your advan¬ 
 tage. 1. It is not true, for that wherewith he 
 hath hitherto awed you shall not come to pass, 
 nor be fulfilled, though you do the thing that he 
 hath forbidden. But if there was danger, what a 
 slavery is it to live always in fear of the greatest 
 of punishments, for doing so small and trivial a 
 thing as eating of a little fruit is? 2. Touching 
 
 Diabolus’s « u i> ^is laws, this I say further, they are 
 
 tiety made up both unreasonable, intricate, and in- 
 of lies • 
 
 tolerable. Unreasonable, as was hinted 
 before, for that the punishment is not proportioned 
 to the offence. There is great difference and dis¬ 
 proportion betwixt the life and an apple; yet the 
 one must go for the other, by the law of your 
 Shaddai. But it is also intricate, in that he saith, 
 first, you may eat of all; and yet after, forbids 
 the eating of one. And then, in the last place, it 
 must needs be intolerable, forasmuch as that fruit 
 which you are forbidden to eat of, if you are'for- 
 bidden any, is that, and that alone, which is able, 
 by your eating, to minister to you a good as yet 
 unknown by you. This is manifest by the very 
 name of the tree ; it is called the tree of knowledge 
 of good and evil; and have you that knowledge as 
 yet? No, no, nor can you conceive how good, how 
 pleasant, and how much to be desired to make one 
 wise it is, so long as you stand by your king’s 
 commandment. Why should you be liolden in 
 ignorance and blindness? Why should you not 
 be enlarged in knowledge and understanding? 
 And now, ah! ye inhabitants of the famous town 
 of Mansoul, to speak more particularly to your¬ 
 selves, you are not a free people! You are kept 
 
 1 Satan may tempt, but cannot force the soul to sin, .Ta. i. 14; 
 we are therefore commanded to resist the devil, that he may 
 tiee from us. To destroy this resistance , therefore, must be a 
 L;reat point with the enemy.—(Burder.) 
 
 2 1 he artful speech of Diabolus is founded upon the scrip¬ 
 tural account of the first temptation. ‘Ye shall not surely 
 die,’ said the father of lies, and he still persists in it. God 
 says, Sinner, thou shalt die; Satan says, Thou shalt not die. 
 W hich ot these ought we to believe ?—(Burder.) 
 
 3 ‘ That he.’ According to Tyrwhitt, p. 113, iie was pre¬ 
 fixed to proper names by the Saxons emphatically. Shakspeare 
 thus uses it: ‘I stand to answer thee, or any he the proudest 
 
 both in bondage and slavery, and that by a griev¬ 
 ous threat; no reason being annexed, but so I will 
 have it, so it shall be. And is it not grievous to 
 think on, that that very thing that ,you are for¬ 
 bidden to do, might you but do it, would yield you 
 both wisdom and honour; for then your eyes will 
 be opened, and you shall be as gods. Now, since 
 this is thus, quoth he, can you be kept by any 
 prince in more slavery, and in greater bondage, 
 than you are under this day? You are made un¬ 
 derlings, and are wrapped up in inconveniencies, 
 as I have well made appear. For what bondage 
 greater than to be kept in blindness? Will not 
 reason tell you that it is better to have eyes than to 
 be without them; and so to be at liberty, to be bet¬ 
 ter than to be shut up in a dark and stinking cave. 
 
 And just now, while Diabolus was speaking 
 these words to Mansoul, Tisiphone captain Resist- 
 shot at Captain Resistance, where he ance slain, 
 stood on the gate, and mortally wounded him in 
 the head; so that he, to the amazement of the 
 townsmen, and the encouragement of Diabolus, 
 fell down dead quite over the wall. 1 Now, when 
 Captain Resistance was dead, and he was the only 
 man of war in the town, poor Mansoul was wholly 
 left naked of courage, nor had she now any heart 
 to resist. But this was as the devil would have 
 it. 2 Then stood forth that he, 3 Mr. Mr. nipause’s 
 Illpause, that Diabolus brought with tovufof^Man- 
 him, who was his orator, 4 and he ad- souL 
 dressed himself to speak to the town of Mansoul: 
 the tenor of xvhose speech here follows. 
 
 Illpause. Gentlemen, quoth he, it is my mas¬ 
 ter’s happiness that he has this day a quiet and 
 teachable auditory, 5 and it is hoped by us that 
 we shall prevail with you not to cast off good 
 advice; my master has a very great love for you, 
 and although, as he very well knows, that he runs 
 the hazard of the anger of King Shaddai, yet love 
 to you will make him do more than that. 6 Nor 
 doth there need that a word more should be spoken 
 to confirm for truth what he hath said; there is 
 not a word but carries with it self-evidence in its 
 bowels; the very name of the tree may put an 
 end to all controversy in this matter. I therefore 
 
 of thy sort. 5 Banyan uses it as a mark of contempt. A mo¬ 
 
 dern author would say, ‘That fellow, Mr. Illpause.’— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Resistance failed in our first mother. She paused, and it 
 
 was an Ill-pause ; whatever contradicts God’s Word should he 
 instantly resisted as diabolical.—(Burder.) 
 
 6 The most imminent danger to the soul is when Satan finds 
 a death-like, quiet, teachable auditory. So it was when Whit¬ 
 field and Wesley, on their godlike mission, roused the people; 
 who, to a frightful extent, were slumbering on the brink of 
 eternal torments.—(E d.) 
 
 c Beware of flattery and hypocrisy, especially of that cunning 
 craftiness of false teachers whereby they lie in wait to deceive 
 unwary souls, and keep them in darkness. The white devil 
 that elates the sinner with vain confidence, is much more 
 dangerous than the black one who instigates to lust, profaue- 
 uess, and despair.—(Mason.) 
 
260 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 at tliis time shall only add this advice to you, 
 under, and by the leave of my lord (and with that 
 he made Diabolus a very low conge). Consider 
 his words, look on the tree, and the promising 
 fruit thereof; remember also that yet you know 
 but little, and that this is the way to know more; 
 and if your reasons he not conquered to accept of 
 such good counsel, you are not the men that I took 
 vou to be. But "when the towns-folk saw that the 
 tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant 
 to the eye, and a tree to he desired to make one 
 wise, they did as old Illpause advised, they took 
 and did eat thereof. Now this I should have told 
 you before, that even then, when this Illpause 
 was making of his speech to the townsmen, my 
 
 My Lord inno- Lord Innocency—whether by a shot 
 cency’s death. f rom the camp of the giant, or from 
 
 some sinking qualm that suddenly took him, or 
 whether by the stinking breath of that treacherous 
 villain old Illpause, for so I am most apt to think— 
 sunk down in the place where he stood, nor could 
 he be brought to life a^ain. 1 Thus these two 
 brave men died; brave men I call them, for they 
 were the beauty and glory of Mansoul, so long as 
 they lived therein; nor did there now remain any 
 more a noble spirit in Mansoul, they all fell down, 
 and yielded obedience to Diabolus, and became his 
 slaves and vassals, as you shall hear. 2 
 
 Now these being dead, what do the rest of the 
 The town taken, towns-folk, but as men that had found a 
 
 and how. fool’s paradise, they presently, as afore 
 was hinted, fall to prove the truth of the giant’s 
 words; and first they did as Illpause had taught 
 them, they looked, they considered, they were 
 taken with the forbidden fruit, they took thereof, 
 and did eat; and having eaten, they became imme¬ 
 diately drunken therewith ; so they opened the gate, 
 both Eargate and Eyegate, and let in Diabolus 
 with all his bands, quite forgetting their good Shad- 
 dai, his law, and the judgment that he had annexed 
 with solemn threatening to the breach thereof. 3 
 
 [Chapter II.] 
 
 [Contents: —Diabolus takes possession of the castle—The 
 Lord Mayor, Mr. Understanding, is deposed, and a wall 
 built before his house, to darken it—Mr. Conscience, the 
 Recorder, is put out of office, and becomes very obnoxious 
 both to Diabolus and to the inhabitants—My Lord Will- 
 be-will, heartily espousing the cause of Diabolus, is made 
 the principal governor of the town—The image of Shad- 
 dai defaced, and that of Diabolus set up in its stead— 
 Mr. Dustings is made Lord Mayor, and Mr. Forget-good, 
 Recorder—New aldermen appointed—Three forts built 
 to defend the town against Shaddai.] 
 
 Diabolus, having now obtained entrance in at 
 the gates of the town, marches up to the middle 
 
 1 The breath of temptation, entertained for a moment, admits 
 unbelief, and destroys primitive innocence. In a spiritual 
 sense, man died; and, by the offence of one, judgment came 
 upon all to condemnation. Re. v. 18.—(Border.) 
 
 lie is enter¬ 
 tained for tiieir 
 king. 
 
 thereof, to make his conquest as sure as he could, 
 and finding by this time the affections of the people 
 warmly inclining to him, he, as thinking it was 
 best striking while the iron is hot, made this 
 further deceivable speech unto them, saying, Alas, 
 my poor Mansoul! I have done thee indeed this 
 service, as to promote thee to honour, and to 
 greaten thy liberty, hut alas! alas! poor Man¬ 
 soul, thou wantest now one to defend thee, for 
 assure thyself that when Shaddai shall hear what 
 is done, he will come; for sorry will he he that 
 thou hast broken his bonds, and cast his cords 
 away from thee. What wilt thou do—wilt thou 
 after enlargement suffer thy privileges to be in¬ 
 vaded and taken away? or what wilt resolve with 
 thyself ? Then they all with one consent said to 
 this bramble, Do thou reign over us. 
 
 So he accepted the motion, and he-, 
 came the king of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 This being done, the next thing was to give him 
 possession of the castle, and so of the whole 
 strength of the town. Wherefore into He is possessed 
 the castle he goes—it was that which and^rtmed'it 
 Shaddai built in Mansoul for his own for himself, 
 delight and pleasure—this now was become a den 
 and hold for the giant Diabolus. 4 
 
 Now having got possession of this stately palace 
 or castle, what doth he blit make it a garrison for 
 himself, and strengthens and fortifies it with all 
 sorts of provision against the King Shaddai, or 
 those that should endeavour the regaining of it to 
 him and his obedience again. 
 
 This done, but not thinking himself yet secure 
 enough, in the next place, he bethinks He new-modei- 
 himself of new-modelling the town ; lelh the towu - 
 and so he does, setting up one, and putting down 
 another at pleasure. 5 Wherefore my Lord Mayor, 
 whose name was my Lord Understanding, and 
 Mr. Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience, 
 those he puts out of place and power. 
 
 As for my Lord Mayor, though he 
 derstanding man, and one too that 
 had complied with the rest of the 
 town of Mansoul in admitting of the 
 giant into the town, yet Diabolus thought not fit 
 
 2 -Then peace expired. 
 
 And every grace fell slaughter'd round her tomb. 
 
 —(Swain’s Redemption) 
 
 3 -Her rash hand, in evil hour, 
 
 Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck’d, she ate: 
 
 Earth felt the wound, and nature, from her seat, 
 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe. 
 
 That all was lost.— {Paradise Lost , B. ix.) 
 
 4 His noble passions, once the blissful seat 
 Of each celestial grace, became the deu 
 Of fiends infernal.—(Swain.) 
 
 5 God’s image of holiness being obliterated, Satan, with all 
 his horrid crew of lusts and vile affections, gained admittance, 
 the understanding was perverted, and the affections estranged. 
 — (Mason.) 
 
 was an un- 
 
 My Lord Mayor 
 put out * of 
 place. 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 261 
 
 to let him abide in his former lustre and glory, 
 because he was a seeing man. Wherefore he 
 darkened it not only by taking from him his office 
 and power, but by building of a high and strong 
 tower, just between the sun’s reflections, and the 
 windows of my lord’s palace, 2 Co. x. 4,5; by which 
 means his house and all, and the whole of his 
 habitation, was made as dark as darkness itself. 
 And thus being alienated from the light, he be¬ 
 came as one that was born blind. Ep. iv. is, 19. To 
 this his house my lord was confined, as to a 
 prison; nor might he upon his parole go further 
 than within his own bounds. And now had he 
 had a heart to do for Mansoul, what could he 
 do for it or wherein could he be profitable to her? 
 So then, so long as Mansoul was under the power 
 and government of Diabolus—and so long it was 
 under him as it was obedient to him; which was 
 even until by a war it was rescued out of his 
 hands—so long my Lord Mayor was rather an 
 impediment in, than advantage to, the famous 
 town of Mansoul. 
 
 As for Mr. Recorder, before the town was taken 
 he was a man well read in the laws of his King, 
 and also a man of courage and faithfulness, to 
 speak truth at every occasion ; and he had a tongue 
 as bravely hung as he had an head filled with 
 „ , judgment. Now this man, Diabolus 
 
 The Recorder " 0 1 
 
 put out of could by no means abide, because, 
 
 though he gave his consent to his 
 coming into the town, yet he could not, by all 
 wiles, trials, stratagems, and devices that he could 
 use, make him wholly his own. True, he was 
 much degenerated from his former King, and also 
 much pleased with many of the giant’s laws and 
 service ; bat all this would not do, forasmuch as 
 he was not wholly his. He would now and then 
 
 think upon Sliaddai, and have dread 
 
 '16 sometimes 7 
 
 speaks for ins of his law upon him, and then he 
 
 would speak with a voice as great 
 ngainst Diabolus as when a lion roareth ; 1 yea, 
 and would also at certain times when his fits were 
 upon him—fur you must know that sometimes he 
 had terrible fits—[he would] make the whole town 
 of Mansoul shake with his voice : and, there¬ 
 fore, the now king of Mansoul could not abide 
 him. 2 
 
 Diabolus therefore feared the Recorder more 
 than any that was left alive in the town of Man¬ 
 soul, because, as I said, his words did shake the 
 whole town ; they were like the rattling thunder, 
 
 1 0 sinner, listen noto to the voice of conscience, before his 
 awful suggestions drive thee to despair. 
 
 ‘-0 give it leave to speak, 
 
 For it will speak ere long! 0 hear it now, 
 
 \\liile useful its advice, its accents mild.’—(Young.) 
 
 2 The office and power of conscience, the old recorder, is 
 beautifully described. He will sometimes speak, yea, war aloud, 
 
 testifying for God, and against sin.—(Burder.) 
 
 and also like thunder-claps. Since therefore the 
 giant could not make him wholly his own, what 
 doth ho do hut studies all that he could to debauch 
 the old gentleman; and by debauchery to stupify 
 his mind, and more harden his heart in ways of 
 vanity. And as he attempted, so he accomplished 
 his design ; he debauched the man, ^ ^ 
 
 and by little and little so drew him into bauched than 
 sin and wickedness, that at last he bcloie ‘ 
 was not only debauched as at first, and so by con¬ 
 sequence defiled, but was almost, at last, I say, 
 past all conscience of sin. And this was the 
 furthest Diabolus could go. Wherefore he be¬ 
 thinks him of another project; and that was to 
 persuade the men of the town that Mr. Recorder 
 was mad, and so not to be regarded : and for this 
 he urged his fits, and said. If he be himself, why 
 doth he not do thus always? but, quoth he, as all 
 mad folks have their fits, and in them their raving 
 language, so hath this old and doating gentleman. 
 Thus, by one means or another, he 
 
 . . . ^ . . The town taken 
 
 quickly got Mansoul to slight, neglect, off from heed- 
 
 and despise whatever Mr. Recorder u ‘ s him ‘ 
 could say. 3 For besides what already you have 
 heard, Diabolus had a way to make the old gentle¬ 
 man, when he was merry, unsay and deny what 
 he in his fits had affirmed ; and, indeed, this was 
 the next way to make himself ridiculous, and to 
 cause that no man should regard him. Also, now 
 he never spake freely for King Shaddai, but always 
 by force and constraint ; besides, he would at one 
 
 time be hot against that at which at How conscience 
 another he would hold his peace, so becomes so 
 
 A ridiculous as 
 
 uneven was he now m Ins doings, with canui 
 Sometimes he would be as if fast men u ls ' 
 asleep, and again sometimes as dead, even then 
 when the whole town of Mansoul was in her career 
 after vanity, and in her dance after the giant’s 
 pipe. 
 
 Wherefore, sometimes, when Mansoul did use 
 to be frightened with the thundering voice of the 
 Recorder that was, and when they did tell Diabolus 
 of it, he would answer that what the old gentle¬ 
 man said was neither of love to him nor pity to 
 them, but of a foolish fondness that he had to be 
 prating ; and so would hush, still, and put all to 
 quiet again. And that he might leave no argu¬ 
 ment unurged that might tend to make them 
 secure, he said, and said it often, 0 Mansoul! con¬ 
 sider that notwithstanding the old gentleman’s 
 rage, and the rattle of his high and thundering 
 words, you hear nothing of Shaddai himself, when, 
 liar and deceiver that he was, every outcry of 
 Mr. Recorder against the sin of Mansoul was the 
 
 s This is the old device of Satan. It was thus he treated 
 poor Cliristian, in the Pilgrim s Progress, when first alarmed 
 for his soul’s welfare—‘ They thought that some frenzy dis¬ 
 temper had got into his head.’— (Ed.) 
 
262 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 His flatteries. 
 
 Conscience. 
 
 voice of God in him to them. But he goes on and 
 Satanical says, You see that he values not the 
 rhetoric. loss, nor rebellion of the town of Man- 
 soul, nor will he trouble himself with calling of his 
 town to a reckoning for their giving of themselves 
 to me. He knows that though ye were his, now 
 you are lawfully mine; so, leaving us one to another, 
 he now hath shaken his hands of us. 1 
 
 Moreover, 0 Mansoul! quoth he, consider how 
 I have served you, even to the uttermost of my 
 power; and that with the best that I have, could 
 get, or procure for you in all the world: besides, 
 I dare say, that the laws and customs that you 
 now are under, and by which you do homage to 
 me, do yield you more solace and content than did 
 the paradise that at first you possessed. Your 
 liberty also, as yourselves do very well know, has 
 been greatly widened and enlarged by- 
 me; whereas I found you a pent-up 
 people. I have not laid any restraint upon you ; 
 you have no law, statute, or judgment of mine to 
 frighten you; I call none of yon to account for 
 your doings, except the madman (you 
 know who I mean). I have granted 
 you to live, each man, like a prince, in his own, 
 even with as little control from me as I myself 
 have from you. 
 
 And thus would Diabolus hush up, and quiet the 
 , r town of Mansoul, when the Recorder, 
 
 Men sometimes . 
 
 angny with their that was, did at times molest them; 
 
 coiisciuu.es. y ea> an q w Hh such cursed orations 
 
 as these would set the whole town in a rage and 
 fury against the old gentleman; yea, the rascal 
 crew at some times would be for destroying of him. 
 They have often wished, in my hearing, that he 
 had lived a thousand miles off from them: his 
 company, his words, yea, the sight of him, and 
 especially when they remembered how in old times 
 he did use to threaten and condemn them—for all 
 he was now so debauched—did terrify and afflict 
 them sore. 2 
 
 But all wishes were vain; for I do not know 
 how, unless by the power of Shaddai, and his 
 wisdom, he was preserved in being amongst them. 
 
 Besides, his house was as strong as a 
 castle, and stood hard to a stronghold 
 of the town. Moreover, if at any time any of the 
 crew or rabble attempted to make him away, he 
 could pull up the sluices, and let in such 
 
 Of fears 11 
 
 floods, as would drown all round about him. 
 
 Ill thoughts. 
 
 1 Liars ought to have good memories ; just before this the 
 devil said, ‘ When Shaddai shall hear what is done, he will 
 come.’ Now he tells them, ‘ He hath shaken his hands of us,’ 
 or entirely given us up.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Conscience, in natural men, is very unequal and irregular 
 in its opposition to sin ; yet by fits and starts he will cry out, 
 and so frighten the sinner, that he wishes him * a thousand 
 miles off,’ so as to give him no disturbance. The powers of 
 conscience cannot he utterly defaced.—(Burder.) 
 
 But to leave Mr. Recorder, and to come to my 
 Lord Will-be-will, another of the gentry 
 of the famous town of Mansoul. This Tlie wiD * 
 
 i 
 
 Will-be-will was as high-born as any man in Man¬ 
 soul, and was as much, if not more, a freeholder 
 than many of them were: besides, if I remember 
 my tale aright, he had some privilege peculiar to 
 himself in the famous town of Mansoul, Now, 
 together with these, he was a man of great 
 strength, resolution, and courage; nor in his oc¬ 
 casion could any turn him away. But I say,' 
 whether he was proud of his estate, privileges, 
 strength, or what—but sure it was through pride 
 of something—he scorns now to be a slave in Man¬ 
 soul ; and therefore resolves to bear office under 
 Diabolus, that lie might, such an one as he was, 
 be a petty ruler and governor in Mansoul. 3 And, 
 headstrong man that he was, thus he began be¬ 
 times ; for this man, when Diabolus did make his 
 oration at Ear-gate, was one of the first that w T as 
 for consenting to his words, and for accepting of 
 his counsel as wholesome, and that was for the 
 opening of the gate, and for letting him into the 
 town: wherefore Diabolus had a kindness for him, 
 and therefore he designed for him a place ; and 
 perceiving the valour and stoutness of the man, he 
 
 coveted to have him for one of his great ones, to 
 act and do in matters of the highest concern. 4 
 
 ° i 
 
 So hb sent for him, and talked with him of that 
 secret matter that lay in his breast, 
 
 ^ The will tskcs 
 
 but there needed not much persuasion place .under 
 
 in the case; for as at first he was iabolus - 
 willing that Diabolus should be let into the town, 
 so now he was as willing to serve him there. 
 When the tyrant therefore perceived the willing¬ 
 ness of my lord to serve him, and that his mind 
 stood bending that way, he forthwith made Heart 
 him the captain of the castle, governor of the Flesh." 
 wall, and keeper of the gates of Mansoul; Sens,es * 
 yea, there was a clause in his commission that 
 nothing without him should be done in all the 
 town of Mansoul. So that now, next to Diabolus 
 himself, who but my lord Will-be-will in all the 
 town of Mansoul; nor could anything now be 
 done, but at his will and pleasure, throughout the 
 town of Mansoul. He had also one Mr> my 
 Mr. Mind 5 for his clerk, a man to Loi ' d ’ s clerk - 
 speak on, every way like his master; for he and 
 
 3 The will scorns to be a slave, but plunges into the worst 
 of slavery—that to Satan and to sin; and in that slavery must 
 perish, unless emancipated and redeemed by Christ.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 The will is a lord, a person of great importance, a govern¬ 
 ing faculty; and there could be no sin till the will consented 
 to the temptation. In fallen man, it is not subject to the law 
 of God, but obstinately opposed to it, and therefore a fit deputy 
 for the devil.—(Burder.) 
 
 0 The mind or judgment, whereby we distinguish between 
 good and evil, lawful and unlawful. 2 Co. iii. 14. Tit. i. 15.— 
 (Mason.) How awfully has sin fettered man, and made him a 
 slave.—(E d.) 
 
TIIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 263 
 
 his lord were in principle one, and in practice not 
 far asunder. Ro. viii. 7. And now was Mansoul 
 brought under to purpose, and made to fulfil the 
 lusts of the will and of the mind. 
 
 But it will not out of my thoughts, what a desper¬ 
 ate one this AY ill-he-will was, when power was put 
 into his hand. First, he flatly denied that he owed 
 any suit or service to his former prince and liege 
 lord. This done, in the next place he took an 
 oath, and swore fidelity to his great master Dia- 
 bolus, and then, being stated and settled in his 
 places, offices, advancements, and preferments, 
 0! you cannot think, uuless you had seen it, the 
 strange work that this workman made in the town 
 of Mansoul! 
 
 First, he maligned Mr. Recorder to death; he 
 
 The carnal will woul(1 either endure to see him, nor 
 opposeth cou- to hear the words of his mouth; he 
 
 would shut his eyes when he saw him, 
 and stop his ears when he heard him speak: also, 
 he could not endure that so much as a fragment 
 of the law of Shaddai should be anywhere seen in 
 the town. For example, his clerk, Mr. Mind, had 
 some old, rent, and torn parchments of the law of 
 good Shaddai in his house, 1 but when Will-be-will 
 saw them, he cast them behind his back. Ne. ix. 2e. 
 True, Mr. Recorder had some of the laws in his 
 
 Corrupt Mill stud J» but my lord could by no means 
 
 loves a dark come at them: he also thought, and 
 understanding. • , . ,, . , „ , , ’ 
 
 said, that the windows of my old Lord 
 
 Mayor’s house were always too light for the profit 
 of the town of Mansoul. The light of a candle he 
 could not endure. Now, nothing at all pleased 
 M ill-be-xvill but what pleased Diabolus his lord. 
 
 There was none like him to trumpet about the 
 streets the brave nature, the wise conduct, and 
 great glory of the King Diabolus. He would 
 range and rove throughout all the streets of Man¬ 
 soul to cry up his illustrious lord, and would make 
 v himself even as an abject, among the 
 
 base and rascal crew, to cry up his 
 valiant prince. And I say, when and whereso¬ 
 ever he found these vassals, he would even make 
 himself as one of them. In all ill courses he 
 would act without bidding, and do mischief with¬ 
 out commandment. 
 
 dhe Lord Will-be-will also had a deputy under 
 him, and his name was Mr. Affection ; one that 
 was also greatly debauched in his principles, and 
 answerable thereto in his life. Ho. i. 25. lie was 
 holly given to the flesh, and therefore they called 
 
 1 I lie unawakened sinner has no pleasure in the Holy Scrip¬ 
 tures- they are to him like old, rent, torn law parchments, 
 which are written in a language that he cannot understand, 
 and he casts them away.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Mhat a progeny! hut they arc the genuine fruits of sin, 
 which is of an impudent, scornful, and revengeful nature; and 
 they have made the soul an enemy to justice, mercy, and truth. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 him Y ile-affoction. Now there was he, and one 
 Carnal-lust, the daughter of Mr. j\Imd a match betwixt 
 (like to like, quoth the devil to tlic and’^SnaL 
 collier) that fell in love, and made a J ust - 
 match, and were married; and, as I take it, they 
 had several children, as Impudent, Blackmouth, and 
 Hate-reproof; these three were black boys. And 
 besides these they had three daughters, as Scorn- 
 truth, and Slightgod, and the name of the youngest 
 was Revenge; these were all married in the town, 
 and also begot and yielded many bad brats, too 
 many to be here inserted. 2 But to pass by this. 
 
 When the giant had thus ingarrisoned himself in 
 the town of Mansoul, and had put down and set 
 up whom he thought good; he betakes himself to 
 defacing. Now there was in the market-place in 
 Mansoul, and also upon the gates of the castle, an 
 image of the blessed King Shaddai; this image was 
 so exactly engraven, and it was engraven in gold, 
 that it did the most resemble Shaddai himself of 
 anything that then was extant in the world. This 
 he basely commanded to be defaced, What Notrutb 
 and it was as basely done by the hand did - 
 of Mr. Notruth. Now you must know, that as 
 Diabolus had commanded, and that by the hand 
 of Mr. Notruth, the image of Shaddai was defaced. 
 He likewise gave order that the same Mr. Notruth 
 should set up in its stead the horrid and formidable 
 image of Diabolus; to the great contempt of the 
 former King, and debasing of his town of Mansoul. 
 
 Moreover, Diabolus made havoc of all remains 
 of the laws and statutes of Shaddai AH ^ b (l 
 that could be found in the town of destroyed that 
 Mansoul; to wit, such as contained coulJ so - 
 either the doctrines of morals, with all civil and 
 natural documents. Also relative severities he 
 sought to extinguish. 3 To be short, there was 
 nothing of the remains of good in Mansoul which 
 he and Will-be-will sought not to destroy ; for their 
 design was to turn Mansoul into a brute, and to 
 make it like to the sensual sow, by the hand of 
 Mr. Notruth. 4 
 
 When he had destroyed what law and good 
 orders he could, then, further to effect his design 
 —namely, to alienate Mansoul from Shaddai, her 
 king—he commands and they set up his own vain 
 edicts, statutes, and commandments, in all places 
 of resort or concourse in Mansoul; to wit, such as 
 gave liberty to the lusts of the flesh, the lusts of 
 
 3 Relative severities are the duties we owe to God, to our¬ 
 selves, and to man, as public and private prayer, obedience and 
 affection to parents and relatives, and that duty so essential to 
 our spirit’s welfare—‘self-examiuation.’ These being neglected, 
 the sinner becomes to every good work reprobate.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Satan would conceal or obliterate the sacred Scriptures, 
 prevent the practice of duty to God or to our neighbour, and 
 make man merely carnal and brutish. Awfully has he suc¬ 
 ceeded; so that man has become that motley monster, half- 
 beast, half-devil, uniting in himself the sensual appetites of the 
 former with the diabolic temper of the latter.—(Burdcr.) 
 
264 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 the eyes, and the pride of life, which are not of 
 Shaddai, hut of the world. 1 Jn. ii. 16. He encouraged, 
 countenanced, and promoted lasciviousness, and 
 all ungodliness there. Yea, much more did Dia- 
 bolus to encourage wickedness in the town of Man- 
 soul; he promised them peace, content, joy, and 
 bliss in doing his commands, and that they should 
 never be called to an account for their not doing 
 the contrary. And let this serve to give a taste 
 to them that love to hear tell of what is done be¬ 
 yond their knowledge, afar off in other countries. 1 
 
 Now Mansoul being wholly at his beck, and 
 brought wholly to his bow, nothing was heard or 
 seen therein but that which tended to set up him. 
 
 But now, he having disabled the Lord Mayor 
 They have a new and Mr. Recorder fi om beai mg of 
 and d a new Tl office m Mansoul, and seeing that the 
 corder. town, before he came to it, was the 
 
 most ancient of corporations in the world; and 
 fearing, if he did not maintain greatness, they at 
 any time should object that he had done them an 
 injury, therefore, 1 say, that they might see that 
 he did not intend to lessen their grandeur, or to 
 take from them any of their advantageous things, 
 he did choose for them a Lord Mayor and a Re¬ 
 corder himself; and such as contented them at the 
 heart, and such also as pleased him wondrous well. 
 
 The name of the Mayor that was of Diabolus’s 
 The new Lord making was the Lord Lustings; a 
 Mayor. man that had neither eyes nor ear§; 
 all that he did, whether as a man or as an officer, 
 he did it naturally, as doth the beast. 2 And that 
 which made him yet the more ignoble, though 
 not to Mansoul, yet to them that beheld and were 
 grieved for its ruins, was, that he never could 
 savour good, but evil. 
 
 The Recorder was one whose name was Forget- 
 The new itecor- good; and a very sorry fellow he was. 
 
 der * lie could remember nothing but mis¬ 
 chief, and to do it with delight. He was naturally 
 prone to do things that were hurtful; even hurtful 
 to the town of Mansoul, and to all the dwellers 
 there. These two, therefore, by their power and 
 practice, example and smiles upon evil, 
 Thou;, cs. muc | 1 more grammar, 3 and settle the 
 
 common people in hurtful ways. For who doth 
 
 not perceive, but when those that sit aloft are vile, 
 
 and corrupt themselves, they corrupt the whole 
 
 region and country where they are ? 4 * 
 
 Besides these, Diabolus made several burgesses 
 
 and aldermen in Mansoul; such as out He doth make 
 
 . ■. i them new al- 
 
 of whom the town, when it needed, dermen, and 
 
 might choose them officers, governors, wll °- 
 and magistrates. And these are the names of the 
 chief of them, Mr. Incredulity, Mr. Haughty, Mr. 
 Swearing, Mr. Whoring, Mr. Hardheart, Mr. Piti¬ 
 less, Mr. Fury, Mr. Notruth, Mr. Stand-todies, 
 Mr. Falsepeace, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Cheating, 
 Mr. Atheism—thirteen in all. Mr. Incredulity is 
 the eldest, and Mr. Atheism the youngest, of the 
 company. 0 
 
 There was also an election of common council- 
 men, and others; as bailiffs, sergeants, constables, 
 and others; but all of them like to those afore¬ 
 named, being either fathers, brothers, cousins, oi 
 nephews to them ; whose names, for brevity s sake, 
 
 I omit to mention. 
 
 When the giant had thus far proceeded in his 
 work, iu the next place he betook He buildeth three 
 
 ’ , .. . 1 , iii* strongholds;their 
 
 himself to build some stronghoids m name s and go- 
 the town. And he built three that >einms ‘ 
 seemed to be impregnable. The first he called 
 the Hold of Defiance, because it was made to com¬ 
 mand the whole town, and to keep it from the 
 knowledge of its ancient King. The second he 
 called Midnight-hold, because it was built on pui- 
 pose to keep Mansoul from the true knowledge of 
 itself. The third was called Sweet-sin-hold, be¬ 
 cause by that he fortified Mansoul against all 
 desires of good. The first of these holds stood 
 close by Eyegate, that as much as might be light 
 might be darkened there. The second was built 
 hard to the old castle, to the end that that might 
 be made more blind, if possible. And the thiid 
 
 stood in the market-place. 6 
 
 He that Diabolus made governor over the first 
 
 1 Great is the the danger of seeking to be wise above what 
 is written. The Bible is the limit of all real knowledge in 
 matters of religion. To the law and to the testimony, if any 
 doctrine or practice is not to be found there, reject it instantly 
 and for ever; it is poisonous, and tends to death and hell.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 2 * Neither eyes nor earsno regard to reason nor danger, 
 but hurried on by mere appetite to every fleshly indulgence. 
 —(Burder.) flow degraded 1 Man becomes a compound of 
 devilish arid beastly lusts. * Lord, what is man that thou should 
 be mindful of him.’— (Ed.) 
 
 3 To ‘grammar;’ to instil into the mind.—(E d.) 
 
 4 Nothing could evidence more intrepid faithfulness than 
 
 this severe, but just, reflection upon the open licentiousness ant. 
 
 debauchery of Charles II. and his courtiers. Nearly thirteen 
 years of frightful imprisonment had not chilled his faithful 
 
 spirit, nor cowed him in doing his duty. In serving God he 
 
 was a stranger to fear.—(E d.) 
 
 6 ‘ What a vile set of wretches!’ the reader will exclaim; but 
 are you sure that they do not rule your heart? Unbelief is 
 the first, and how natural the gradation to Atheism, the last 
 
 the scorner’s seat.—(E d.) 
 
 * Christ purged his temple, so must thou thy heart. 
 
 All sinful thoughts are thieves, together met 
 To cozen thee.’—(Herbert.) 
 
 c Thus Satan fixes his empire in the soul:—1. By enmity 
 and aversion to Divine instruction; 2. By the blindness of 
 the understanding, and perverseness of the will, by which the 
 knowledge of its lamentable state and of God are concealed; 
 and, 3. By a habit and delight in sin, rolling it as a sweet 
 morsel under the tongue; all which, if grace prevent not, will 
 drown men in destruction and perdition.—(Mason.) Reader, 
 beware, these three strongholds are the greatest enemies to 
 human happiness:—1. Indifferent carelessness; 2. Ignorance 
 of the new birth and of spiritual religion, which is the strength 
 of superstition—the cruel persecutor of the saints; 3. Lusts, 
 which degrade the soul into slavery to Satan. (Ed.) 
 
THE riOLY WAR. 
 
 265 
 
 of these, was one Spitegod, a most blasphemous 
 wretch. lie came with the whole rabble of them 
 that came against Mansoul at first, and was him¬ 
 self one of themselves. lie that was made the 
 governor of Midnight-hold, was one Love-no-light, 
 lie was also of them that came first against the 
 town. And he that was made the governor of the 
 hold called Sweet-sin-hold, was one whose name 
 was Lovefiesh; lie was also a very lewd fellow, 
 
 but not of that countrv where the other are bound. 1 
 
 «/ 
 
 This fellow could find more sweetness when lie 
 stood sucking of a lust, than he did in all the 
 paradise of God. 
 
 And now Diabolus thought himself safe; he 
 had taken Mansoul; he had ingarrisoned himself 
 therein; lie had put down the old officers, and 
 
 Diabolus lias had set up new ones; he had defaced 
 made ins nest. ^he i ma g e 0 f Shaddai, and had set up 
 
 his own; he had spoiled the old law-books, and 
 had- promoted his own vain lies; he had made him 
 new magistrates, and set up new aldermen ; he 
 had built him new holds, and had manned them 
 for himself. 2 And all this he did to make himself 
 secure, in case the good Shaddai, or his Son, should 
 come to make an incursion upon him. 
 
 [Chapter III.] 
 
 [Contents .- —Information of the revolution carried to the court 
 of King Shaddai—His great resentment of the rebellion 
 —Ilis gracious intention of restoring Mansoul—Some 
 intimations of this published—Care of Diabolus to sup¬ 
 press them—His artifices to secure the town, and prevent 
 its return to Shaddai.] 
 
 Now you may well think, that long before this 
 
 Tidings carried time WOrd > SOme 0r Other, COuld not 
 t° the court,°f but be carried to the good King Shad- 
 
 penedto Mau- dai, how his Mansoul in the continent 
 of Universe was lost; and that the 
 renegade giant Diabolus, once one of his Majesty’s 
 servants, had, in rebellion against the King, made 
 sure thereof for himself; yea, tidings were carried 
 and brought to the King thereof, and that to a 
 very circumstance. 3 
 
 As first, How Diabolus came upon Mansoul— 
 they being a simple people, and innocent—with 
 craft, subtilty, lies, and guile. Item, That he had 
 treacherously slain the right noble and valiant cap¬ 
 tain, their Captain Resistance, as he stood upon 
 the gate, with the rest of the townsmen. Item, 
 How my brave Lord Innocent fell down dead— 
 
 1 Loveflc-sh was one of the corrupted Mansoulians, and, 
 therefore, not bound to the place whence Spitegod and Love- 
 uo-light came; these were Diabolonians.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 How awful and complete is the revolution ! The under¬ 
 standing is darkened, the conscience debauched, the will per¬ 
 
 verted, the image of God defaced, the law of God suppressed, 
 and lusts triumphant; while the proud sinner defies God, loves 
 midnight darkness, and wallows in sin. ’What an awful, but 
 accurate, picture of apostate man! God, be merciful to us 
 sinners.—(Burdcr.) 
 
 VOL. 111. 
 
 with grief, some say, or with being poisoned with 
 the stinking breath of one lllpause, as say others 
 —at the hearing of his just lord and rightful 
 prince Shaddai so abused by the mouth of so filthy 
 a Diabolonian as that varlet lllpause was. The 
 messenger further told, that after this lllpause 
 had made a short oration to the townsmen, in 
 behalf of Diabolus his master, the simple town 
 believing that what was said was true, with one 
 consent did open Eargate, the chief gate of the 
 corporation, and did let him with his crew into a 
 possession of the famous town of Mansoul. lie 
 further showed how Diabolus had served the Lord 
 Mayor and Mr. Recorder, to wit, that he had put 
 them from all place of power and trust. Item, 
 He showed also that my Lord Will-be-will was 
 turned a very rebel and renegade, and that so was 
 one Mr. Mind, his clerk; and that they two did 
 range and revel it all the town over, and teach 
 the wicked ones their ways. He said, moreover, 
 that this Will-be-will was put into great trust; 
 and, particularly, that Diabolus had put into 
 Will-be-wilTs hand all the strong places in Man¬ 
 soul ; and that Mr. Affection was made my Lord 
 Will-be-wilTs deputy in his most rebellious affairs. 
 Yea, said the messenger, this monster, Lord Will- 
 be-will, has openly disavowed his King Shaddai, 
 and hath horribly given his faith and plighted his 
 troth to Diabolus. 4 
 
 ‘Also,’ said the messenger, ‘besides all this, the 
 new king, or rather rebellious tyrant, over the 
 once famous, but now perishing, town of Mansoul, 
 has set up a Lord Mayor and a Recorder of his 
 own. For Mayor, he has set up one Mr Dustings, 
 and for Recorder, Mr. Forget-good; two of the 
 vilest of all the town of Mansoul.’ This faithful 
 messenger also proceeded, and told what a sort of 
 new burgesses Diabolus had made, also that he 
 had builded several strong forts, towers, and strong¬ 
 holds in Mansoul. He told too, the which I had 
 almost forgot, how Diabolus had put the town of 
 Mansoul into arms, the better to capacitate them 
 on his behalf 'to make resistance against Shaddai 
 their king, should he come to reduce them to their 
 former obedience. 
 
 Now this tidings-teller did not deliver his rela¬ 
 tion of things in private, but in open court, the 
 King and his Son, high lords, chief Grief at court 
 captains, and nobles, being all there to hear the tid- 
 present to hear. Hut by that they 
 had heard the whole of the story, it would have 
 amazed one to have seen, had he been there to 
 
 8 ‘ Known unto God arc all liis works from the beginning of 
 the world.’ ‘ Not a sparrow shall fall without your Father.’ 
 * The very hairs of your head are all numbered.’ Mat. x. 29,80. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 4 ‘ Ye have said, We have made a covenant with death, and 
 with hell are we at agreement.’ Is. xxviii. 15.—(En.) 
 
 34 
 
266 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 
 ■'Inn' 
 
 Ai 
 
 3 
 
 "a 
 
 f 
 
 l» 
 
 § 
 
 J'jS 
 
 nl ( ,j 
 
 «IUll 
 
 behold it, wliat sorrow and grief, and compunction 
 of spirit, there was among all sorts, to think that 
 famous Mansoul was now taken; only the King, 
 and his Son foresaw all this long before, yea, and 
 sufficiently provided for the relief of Mansoul, 
 though they told not everybody thereof. Yet, be¬ 
 cause they also would have a share in condoling 
 of the misery of Mansoul, therefore they also did, 
 and that at the rate of the highest degree, bewail 
 the losing of Mansoul. The King said plainly, % 
 ‘ That it grieved him at his heart,’ and you may 
 be sure that his Son was not a whit behind him. 
 Ge. vi. 5, 6. Thus gave they conviction to all about 
 them, that they had love and compassion for the 
 famous town of Mansoul. Well, when the King 
 and his Son were retired into the privy-chamber, 
 there they again consulted about what they had 
 The secret of his designed before, to wit, that as Man- 
 purpose. soul should in time be suffered to be 
 lost, so as certainly it should be recovered again; 
 recovered I say, in such a way as that both the 
 King and his Son would get themselves eternal 
 _ , fame and nlory thereby. Wherefore 
 
 The Son of God. . . ° . Y n cn i i • 
 
 alter this consult, the Son ot Shaddai, 
 a sweet and comely person, and one that had 
 always great affection for those that were in 
 affliction, but one that had mortal enmity in his 
 heart against Diabolus, because he was designed 
 for it, and because he sought his crown and dignity. 
 This Son of Shaddai, I say, having stricken hands 1 
 with his Father, and promised that he would be his 
 servant to recover his Mansoul again, stood by his 
 resolution, nor would he repent of the same. is. 
 xlix. 5. 1 Ti. i. 15. He. xiii. 14. The purport of which 
 a brave design agreement was this: to wit, That at a 
 town 00 of f °Man- certain time prefixed by both, the 
 soul - King’s Son should take a journey into 
 
 the country of Universe; and there, in a way of 
 justice and equity, by making of amends for the 
 follies of Mansoul, he should lay a foundation of 
 her perfect deliverance from Diabolus, and from 
 his tyranny. 2 
 
 Moreover, Emmanuel resolved to make, at a 
 time convenient, a war upon the giant Diabolus, 
 even while he was possessed of the town of Man- 
 Ey the Holy soul; and that lie would fairly, by 
 Ghost. strength of hand, drive him out of his 
 hold, his nest, and take it to himself, to be his 
 habitation. 
 
 This now being resolved upon, order was given 
 The Holy Scrip- to the Lord Chief Secretary, to draw 
 tm-es. U p a f a j r recor( i 0 f -yvliat was deter- 
 
 The Contents. 
 
 1 ‘ To strike bands’ means to enter into agreement, make 
 a contract, or become security. Pr. xvii. 18 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 How astonishing is the Divine benignity 1 Who can 
 express it so well as in the words of Emmanuel himself, God 
 so loved the world? So loved! How much he loved, no 
 tongue can tell, no heart conceive. It is love unsought, un¬ 
 paralleled, free, and everlasting.—(Burder.) 
 
 mined, and to cause that it should be published in 
 all the corners of the kingdom of Universe. A 
 short breviat 3 4 of the contents thereof you may, if 
 you please, take here as follows: 
 
 ‘ Let all men know who are concerned, That the 
 Son of Shaddai, the great King, is 
 engaged, by covenant to his Father, to 
 bring his Mansoul to him again; yea, and to put 
 Mansoul too, through the power of his matchless 
 love, into a far better, and more happy condition 
 than it was in before it was taken by Diabolus. ’* 
 
 These papers, therefore, were published in several 
 places, to the no little molestation of the tyrant 
 Diabolus, for now, thought he, I shall be molested, 
 and my habitation will be taken from me. 
 
 But when this matter, I mean this purpose of 
 the King and his Son, did at first take air at 
 court, who can tell how the high lords, chief 
 captains, and noble princes, that were Among the 
 there, were taken with the business. Angels. 
 First, they whispered it one to another, and after 
 that it began to ring out throughout the King’s 
 palace; all wondering at the glorious design that 
 between the King and his Son was on foot for the 
 miserable town of Mansoul. Yea, the courtiers 
 could scarce do any thing, either for the King or 
 kingdom, biit they would mix with the doing 
 thereof a noise of the love of the King and his 
 Son, that they had for the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Nor could these lords, high captains, and princes, 
 be content to keep this news at court, yea, before 
 the records thereof were perfected, themselves came 
 down and told it in Universe. At last , , 
 
 Diabolus per- 
 
 it came to the ears, as I said, of Dia- piexed at tue 
 
 bolus, to his no little discontent. For 
 
 you must think it would perplex him to hear of 
 
 such a design against him; well, but after a few 
 
 casts in his mind, he concluded upon these four 
 
 things. 
 
 First. That this news, this good tidings, if 
 
 possible, should be kept from the ears He concluded on 
 of the town of Mansoul. 5 6 For, said several things. 
 
 he, if they shall once come to the knowledge that 
 Shaddai, their former King, and Emmanuel, his 
 Son, are contriving of good for the town of Man¬ 
 soul ; what can be expected by me, but that Man- 
 soul will make a revolt from under my hand and 
 government, and return again to him. 
 
 3 ‘ Breviata summary or epitome; a word commonly used 
 in Bunyan’s time.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Early intimation was given to a lost world of God’s 
 
 gracious designs in favour of rebel man. He was pleased to 
 publish in his Word this benevolent purpose.—(Burder.) 
 
 6 It is the interest of hell to keep men in ignorance of the 
 gospel. His great instrument, in all ages and climes, has 
 been a wicked priestcraft. All that tends to prevent anxious 
 personal inquiry for salvation is from beneath, from the father 
 of lies. ‘ I believe as the church believes, and the church 
 believes as I believe,’ is the wretched sophistry by which 
 Satan entangles souls in his net.— (Er.) 
 
 
THE HOLY WAIL 
 
 267 
 
 Now, to accomplish this his design, he renews 
 
 first, How to llis flattei 7 with my Lord Will-be-will, 
 keep the news and also gives him strict charge and 
 
 command, tliat he should keep watch 
 by day and by night at all the gates of the town, 
 especially Eargate and Eyegate. For I hear of 
 a design, quoth he, a design to make us all traitors, 
 and that Mansoul must be reduced to its first 
 bondage again. I hope they are but flying stories, 
 The will en^ag- d 110 ^ 1 * ^ ie j however, let no such news 
 gosp!? hlst lhe an y means be let into Mansoul, lest 
 
 the people be dejected thereat; I think, 
 my lord, it can be no welcome news to you, I am 
 Good thoughts sure it is none to me. And I think 
 out of the town that at this time it should be all our 
 Of Mansoul. wisdoms and care, to nip the head of 
 all such rumours as shall tend to trouble our people. 
 Wherefore, I desire, my lord, that you will in this 
 matter do as I say, let there be strong guards daily 
 kept at every gate of the town. Stop also and 
 examine from whence such come, that you perceive 
 do from far come hither to trade; nor let them by 
 any means be admitted into Mansoul, unless you 
 shall plainly perceive that they are favourers of 
 ah good thoughts our excellent government. I com- 
 
 the town are to mand, moreover, said Diabolus, that 
 be suppressed. there S pi es con ti nua lly walking up 
 
 and down the town of Mansoul, and let them have 
 power to suppress, and destroy, any that they shall 
 perceive to be plotting against us, or that shall 
 prate of what by Shaddai and Emmanuel is in¬ 
 tended. 
 
 This, therefore, was accordingly done; my Lord 
 M ill-be-will hearkened to his lord and master, went 
 willingly after the commandment, and, with all the 
 diligence he could, kept any that would from going 
 out abroad, or that sought to bring this tidings to 
 Mansoul, from coming into the town. 
 
 feecondly. This done, in the next place, Diabolus, 
 a new oath make Mansoul as sure 
 
 Mansoul upou as ^ ie cou ^> frames and imposes a new 
 oath and horrible covenant upon the 
 townsfolk: to wit, ‘ That they should never desert 
 him, nor his government, nor yet betray him, nor 
 seek to alter his laws; but that they should own, 
 confess, stand by, and acknowledge him for their 
 rightful king, in defiance to any that do, or here¬ 
 after shall, by any pretence, law, or title whatever, 
 lay claim to the town of Mansoul.’ Thinking 
 belike that Shaddai had not power to absolve them 
 iiom this covenant with death, and agreement with 
 
 i liey glory in their shame, 
 
 reject the sustenance Divine, 
 
 %) - - juivnn 
 
 1 o beggarly vile appetites descend; 
 
 Ask aims of earth, tor guests that came from heav’n; 
 , in k into slaves ; and sell for present hire 
 1 heir rich reversion, and (what shares its fate), 
 lieu native freedom, to the priuce who sways 
 Hie nether world.’—(Young.) 
 
 hell. is. xxviii. is. Nor did the silly Mansoul stick 
 or boggle at all at this most monstrous engage¬ 
 ment, but, as if it had been a sprat in ^ 
 the mouth of a whale, they swallowed 
 it without any chewing. Were they troubled at 
 it? Nay, they rather bragged and boasted of 
 their so brave fidelity to the tyrant, their pretended 
 King, swearing that they would never be change¬ 
 lings, nor forsake their old lord for a new. 1 
 
 Thus did Diabolus tie poor Mansoul fast; but 
 jealousy, that never thinks itself strong enough, put 
 him, in the next place, upon another 
 exploit, which was yet more, if pos- “5°“mp h hl«t 
 sible, to debauch this town of Mansoul. f n , d fiuh I bal ‘ 
 Wherefore he caused, by the hand of niances, full of 
 one Mr. Filth, an odious, nasty, lasci- baldl -' ' 
 vious piece of beastliness to be drawn up in writing, 
 and to be set upon the castle gates; whereby he 
 granted and gave license to all his true and trusty 
 sons in Mansoul, to do whatsoever their lustful 
 appetites prompted them to do, and that no man 
 was to let, hinder, or control them, upon pain of 
 incurring the displeasure of their prince. 
 
 Now this he did for these reasons: 
 
 1. That the town of Mansoul might be yet made 
 weaker and weaker, and so more un- Reasons of his 
 able, should tiding come that their thus doing, 
 redemption was designed, to believe, hope, or con¬ 
 sent to the truth thereof. For reason says, the 
 bigger the sinner, the less grounds of hopes of 
 merey. 3 
 
 2. The second reason was,If, perhaps, Emmanuel, 
 the Son of Shaddai their king, by seeing the hor¬ 
 rible and profane doings of the town of Mansoul, 
 might repent, though entered into a covenant of 
 redeeming them, of pursuing that covenant of their 
 redemption; for he knew that Shaddai was holy, 
 and that his Son Emmanuel was holy; yea, he 
 knew it by woeful experience ; for, for the iniquity 
 and sin of Diabolus was he cast from the highest 
 
 O 
 
 orbs. Wherefore, what more rational than for him 
 to conclude, that thus for sin it might fare with 
 Mansoul. But fearing also lest this knot should 
 break, he bethinks himself of another, to wit: 
 
 3. To endeavour to possess all hearts in the town 
 of Mansoul that Shaddai was raising of an army, 
 to come to overthrow and utterly to destroy this 
 town of Mansoul, and this he did to forestal any 
 tidings that might come to their ears of their 
 
 2 < 
 
 ‘Baldry;’ obscenity. The abounding of such depraved 
 publications affords a good criterion of the moral state of a 
 
 country—China, very degraded; France, degraded; Italy, 
 under the Pope’s nose, most degraded; few, in comparison, are 
 now to be found in England, and they hide themselves as 
 Christian knowledge progresses. In Bunyan’s time, under the 
 depraved Charles II., they awfully abounded under the care 
 of Mr. Filth.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 Not so, says the Scripture, it is a saying worthy of all 
 acceptation, that Christ came to save sinners, even the chief 
 ol sinuers.—See Bunyan’s Jerusalem Sinner Saved .— (Ed.) 
 
263 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 deliverance; for, tliought lie, if I first brute 1 this, 
 the tidings that shall come after, will all be swal¬ 
 lowed up of this; for what else will Mansoul say, 
 when they shall hear that they must he delivered, 
 f hut that the true meaning is, Shaddai 
 
 hearing and of intends to destroy them ; wherefore, he 
 considering. ,, . , . • , ,1 
 
 summons the whole town into the 
 
 market-place, and there, with deceitful tongue, thus 
 he addresses himself unto them:— 
 
 ‘ Gentlemen, and my very good friends, You are, 
 all, as you know, my legal subjects, and men of 
 the famous town of Mansoul; you know how, from 
 the first day that I have been with you until now, 
 
 I have behaved myself among you, and what liberty, 
 and great privileges you have enjoyed under my 
 government, I hope to your honour, and mine, and 
 also to your content and delight. Now, my famous 
 Mansoul, a noise of trouble there is abroad, of 
 trouble to the town of Mansoul, sorry I am there¬ 
 of for your sakes. For I have received but now 
 by the post from my lord Lucifer—and he useth 
 to have good intelligence—that your old king 
 Shaddai is raising of an army to come against you, 
 to destroy you root and branch: 2 and this, 0 Man¬ 
 soul, is now the cause that at this time I have 
 called you together ; namely, to advise what in this 
 juncture is best to be done; for my part, I am but 
 one, and can with ease shift for myself, did I list 
 to seek my own ease, and to leave my Mansoul in 
 all the danger. But my heart is so firmly united 
 to you, and so unwilling am I to leave you, that I 
 am willing to stand and fall with you, to the utmost 
 hazard that shall befall me. 3 What say you, 0 my 
 Mansoul ? Will you now desert your old friend, or 
 do you think of standing by me?’ Then as one 
 man, with one mouth, they cried out together, ‘Let 
 him die the death that will not.’ 
 
 Then said Diabolus again, ‘ It is in vain for us to 
 Very deceivaWe hope for quarter, for this king knows 
 language. no t how to show it : true, perhaps, he 
 at his first sitting down before us will talk of, and 
 pretend to, mercy, that thereby, with the more ease, 
 and less trouble, he may again make himself the 
 master of Mansoul. Whatever therefore he shall 
 say, believe not one syllable or tittle of it, for all 
 such language is but to overcome us, and to make 
 us, while we Avallow in our blood, the trophies of 
 
 Lying language. 
 
 1 ‘ Brute;’ generally spelt ‘bruit;’ report, rumour, fame.- 
 Imp. Die. —(Ed.) 
 
 2 This is one of the great lies with which Satan and his 
 emissaries would keep sinners in bondage, by leading them to 
 think that Christ, came not to save, but to destroy, and that 
 true religion is a dull, melancholy, pursuit, tending only to 
 misery and melancholy; the very reverse of all Christian 
 experience and truth.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 Well may Satan be called the father of lies; all Lis object 
 is to destroy souls. He is a merciless tyrant; his service is 
 the vilest drudgery; his wages are pain, sorrow, sickness, 
 temporal, and eternal death. 0 for that spiritual wisdom 
 from heaven by which alone we can detect his devices.— (Ed.) 
 
 bis merciless victory. My mind is, therefore, that 
 we resolve, to the last man, to resist him, and not 
 to believe him upon any terms; for in at that door 
 will come our danger. 4 But shall we be flattered 
 out of our lives? I hope you know more of the 
 rudiments of politics than to suffer yourselves so 
 pitifully to be served. 
 
 ‘ But suppose he should, if he gets us to yield, 
 save some of our lives, or the lives of some of them 
 that are underlings in Mansoul, what help will that 
 be to you that are the chief of the town ; especially 
 of you whom I' have set up, and whose greatness 
 has been procured by you through your faithful 
 sticking to me? And suppose again, 
 that he should give quarter to every 
 one of you, be sure he will bring you into that 
 bondage under which you were captivated before, 
 or a worse; and then what good will your lives do 
 you ? Shall you with him live in pleasure as you 
 do now ? No, no, you must be bound by laws that 
 will pinch you, and be made to do that which at 
 present is hateful to you; I am for you, if you are 
 for me, and it is better to die valiantly, than to 
 live like pitiful slaves. 5 But 1 say, the life of a 
 slave will be counted a life too e’ood „ . , .. „ 
 for Mansoul now ; blood, blood, no- losing of Man- 
 thing but blood is in every blast of souL 
 Shaddai’s trumpet against poor Mansoul now. 6 
 Pray, be concerned, I hear he is coming up; and 
 stand to your arms, that now while you have any 
 leisure, I may learn you some feats of Avar. Ar¬ 
 mour for you I have, and by me it is; yea, and it 
 is sufficient for Mansoul from top to toe; nor can 
 you be hurt by Avhat his force can do, if you shall 
 keep it avcII girt and fastened about you. Come 
 therefore to my castle, and Avelcomc, He putg t , iem 
 and harness yourselves for the Avar, upon arming 
 There is helmet, breastplate, SAVord, tueill5elves - 
 and shield, and what not, that will make you fight 
 like men. 
 
 ‘ 1. My helmet, otherwise called an head-piece, 
 is hope of doing Avell at last, Avhat lives 
 soever you live. This is that Avhich 
 they had, who said, that they should have peace 
 though they Avalked in the Avickedness of their 
 heart, ‘to add drunkenness to thirst.’ De. xxix.19. 
 A piece of approved armour this is, and whoever 
 has it and can hold it, so long no arrow, dart, 
 
 4 The strength of Satan’s kingdom lies in preventing men 
 from thinking or examining for themselves.— (Ed.) 
 
 0 How do the most wretched slaves, even the devil’s dirtiest 
 drudges, hug their chains, and try to imagine themselves free. 
 The believer alone knows what liberty is; Christ’s service is 
 perfect freedom, and his ways—all his ways, and none but 
 his ways—are pleasantness and peace.— (Ed.) 
 
 0 Without the shedding of blood there is no remission of 
 sins; but with the blood-shedding of Jesus, the gospel of peace 
 and salvation is brought to the guilty conscience. How malig¬ 
 nantly the father of lies can pervert the plainest gospel truths. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 IIis helmet. 
 
TTTE IIOLY WAR. 
 
 209 
 
 Ilis breastplate. 
 
 Ills sword. 
 
 sword, or shield can hurt him ; this therefore keep 
 on, and thou wilt keep off many a blow, my Man- 
 soul. 1 
 
 * 2. My breastplate is a breastplate of iron; I 
 had it forged in mine own country, and 
 all my soldiers are armed therewith ; 
 in plain language it is an hard heart, an heart as 
 hard as iron, and as much past feeling as a stone; 
 the which if you get, and keep, neither mercy 
 shall win you, nor judgment fright you. Re. ix. 9. 
 This, therefore, is a piece of armour most necessary 
 for all to put on that hate Shaddai, £nd that would 
 fight against him under my banner. 
 
 ‘ 3. My sword is a tongue that is set on fire of 
 hell, rs. lvu. 4, and that can bend itself 
 to speak evil of Shaddai, his Son, his 
 ways, and people. Ps. Mv. a. Use this ; it has been 
 tried a thousand times twice told; whoever hath 
 it, keeps it, and makes that use of it as I would 
 have him, can never be conquered by mine enemy. 
 
 Ja. iii. 3—5. 
 
 ‘4. My shield is unbelief, or calling into question 
 the truth of the Word, or all the say¬ 
 ings that speak of the judgment that 
 Shaddai has appointed for wicked men. Use this 
 shield. Job xv. * 26 . Many attempts he has made upon 
 it, and sometimes, it is true, it has been bruised. 
 
 ps. lxxvi. 3. But thev that have writ of the wars of 
 
 %/ 
 
 Emmanuel against my servants, have testified that 
 he could do no mighty work there because of their 
 unbelief. Mar. vi. 5, 6. Now, to handle this weapon 
 of mine aright, it is not to believe things because 
 they are true, of what sort or by whomsoever as¬ 
 serted. If he speak of judgment, care not for it; 
 if he speak of mercy, care not for it; if lie pro¬ 
 mise, if he swear that he would do to Mansoul, 
 if it turn, no hurt but good, regard not what is 
 said; question the truth of all; for this is to wield 
 the shield of unbelief aright, and as my servants 
 ought and do; and he that doth otherwise loves 
 me not, nor do I count him but an enemy to me. 2 
 
 ‘5. iVnother part or piece,’ said Diabolus, ‘of 
 mine excellent armour is a dumb and prayerless 
 spirit—a spirit that scorns to cry for mercy; where¬ 
 fore he you, my Mansoul, sure that you make use of 
 this. 3 What! cry for quarter, never do that if you 
 
 Ills shield. 
 
 1 How many baptized infidels perish in a vain hope that 
 Divine mercy will be extended to impenitent, unawakened 
 sinners; forgetting that * a God all mercy, is a God unjust.’ 
 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 2 This shield of the devil is used to an extent that few 
 persons imagine. All the impenitent disbelieve the punish¬ 
 ment of sin, and use this shield to ward off conviction ; and 
 how many of the children of God, when in a state of doubt, 
 use the same shield, to prevent the entrance of those pro¬ 
 mises which would bring consolation to their wounded souls! 
 Strangely has sin perverted the faculties of Mansoul.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 llow skilfully Satan plies his suggestions, to keep poor 
 
 sinners from their kuees. He knows that he cannot withstand 
 
 godly, fervent, prayer.—(E d.) 
 
 would be mine ; I know you are stout men, and am 
 sure that I have clad you with that which is armour 
 of proof; wherefore to cry to Shaddai for mercy, let 
 that be far from you. Besides all this, I have a 
 maul, fire-brands, arrows and death, all good hand- 
 weapons, and such as will do execution.’ 4 
 
 After he had thus furnished his men TT , , ,, 
 
 m lie backs all 
 
 with armour and arms, he addressed with a speech 
 
 himself to them in such like words as 
 these:—‘Remember,’ quoth he, ‘that I am your 
 rightful king, and that you have taken an oath, and 
 entered into covenant to be true to me and my 
 cause; I say, remember this, and show yourselves 
 stout and valiant men of Mansoul. Remember also 
 the kindness that I have always showed to you, 
 and that without your petition: I have granted to 
 you external things, wherefore the privileges, 
 grants, immunities, profits and honours wherewith I 
 endowed you, do call for at your hands returns of 
 loyalty, my lion-like men of Mansoul; and when 
 so fit a time to show it as when another shall seek 
 to take my dominion over you, into their own 
 hands ? One word more, and I have done, Can 
 we but stand, and overcome this one shock or 
 brunt, I doubt not but in little time all the world 
 will be ours; and when that day comes, my true 
 hearts, I will make you kings, princes, and cap¬ 
 tains, and what brave days shall we have then ? ’ 5 
 
 Diabolus having thus armed, and fore-armed his 
 servants and vassals in Mansoul, against their good 
 and lawful king Shaddai; in the next place, he 
 doubleth his guards at the gates of the town, and 
 he takes himself to the castle, which was his strong 
 hold. His vassals also, to show their They of Man- 
 wills, and supposed, but ignoble, gal- byahyTo^tiie 
 lantry, exercise themselves in their 8 iant - 
 arms every day, and teach one another feats of 
 war; they also defied their enemies, and sang up 
 the praises of their tyrant; they threatened also 
 what men they would be, if ever things should rise 
 so high as a war between Shaddai and their king. 6 
 
 O O 
 
 4 Reader, we have here presented to our view the whole 
 armour of the devil—presumption, hardness of heart, a blas¬ 
 phemous tongue, unbelief, and a prayerless spirit. This is 
 Satan’s armour; the very reverse of that which God has pro¬ 
 vided for Christian soldiers.—(Burdcr.) 
 
 6 Thus Satan deceiveth the world, promising liberty and 
 pleasure, while slavery and destruction are his only aim. * All 
 these things,’ said he to our Lord, ‘ will I give thee, if thou 
 wilt worship me.’ O that we may be enabled to say, ‘ Get 
 thee behind me, Satan.’—(Burder.) Satan first beguiles, then 
 destroys, and lastly torments; he flatters only to betray and 
 ruin.—(Mason.) 
 
 0 Reader, having accompanied Banyan thus far in his Holy 
 "War, pause and consider whether you understand his spiritual 
 meaning: the original perfection of human nature — tbe 
 temptations of the enemy of souls—the loss of innocency— 
 the admission of Diabolus into the heart of Mansoul—his 
 reign of sin—the first intimations of Divine mercy—Satan’s 
 precautions to prevent it—to resist the grace of God—and to 
 keep the soul in slavery,—have I felt all this in my own ex¬ 
 perience ? —(Ed.) 
 
I 
 
 270 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 v 
 
 Shaddai prepar- 
 eth an army 
 for the reco¬ 
 very of Man- 
 soul. 
 
 [Chapter, IV.] 
 
 [Contents: —Sliaddai sends an army of forty thousand to re¬ 
 duce Mansoul, under the direction of four captains, Boa¬ 
 nerges, Conviction, Judgment, and Execution, who address 
 the inhabitants with great energy, but to little purpose— 
 Diabolus, Incredulity, Illpause, and others, interfere to 
 prevent submission — prejudice defends Eargate with a 
 guard of sixty deaf men.] 
 
 Now all this time, the good King, the King 
 Shaddai was preparing to send an 
 army to recover the town of Mansoul 
 again, from under the tyranny of their 
 pretended king Diabolus. But he 
 thought good, at the first, not to send them by the 
 hand and conduct of brave Emmanuel his Son, 
 but under tbe hand of some of his servants, to see 
 first, by them, the temper of Mansoul; and whether 
 The words of by them they would be won to the 
 God - obedience of their King. The army 
 consisted of above forty thousand, all true men; 
 for they came from the King’s own court, and 
 were those of his own choosing. 
 
 They came up to Mansoul under the conduct of 
 four stout generals, each man being a captain of 
 The captains’ ten thousand men, and these are their 
 names. names, and their signs. The name of 
 the first was Boanerges; the name of the second 
 was Captain Conviction; the name of the third 
 was Captain Judgment; and the name of the fourth 
 was Captain Execution. These were the captains 
 that Shaddai sent to regain Mansoul. 1 
 
 These four captains, as was said, the King 
 thought fit, in the first place, to send to Mansoul, to 
 make an attempt upon it; for indeed, generally in 
 all his wars he did use to send these four captains 
 in the van, for they were very stout and rough- 
 hewn men, men that were fit to break the ice, and 
 to make their way by dint of sword, and their men 
 were like themselves. 2 Ps. ix. 4. 
 
 To each of these captains the King gave a ban¬ 
 ner that it might be displayed, because of the good¬ 
 ness of his cause, and because of the right that he 
 had to Mansoul. First to Captain Boanerges, for 
 he was the chief; to him, I say, was given ten 
 thousand men. His ensign was Mr. Thunder; he 
 bare the black colours, and his escutcheon was 
 three burning thunderbolts. Mar. m. 17 . The second 
 
 1 The army of forty thousand terrors of the law was not so 
 fearful as one threatening of the new covenant. Head care¬ 
 fully Grace Abounding , No. 246.—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Mansoul’s spirit is first to be broken by the terrors of the 
 law; there is no difficulty in understanding the very appro¬ 
 priate names of the captains. But why forty thousand con¬ 
 victions and terrors, unless from that number of valiant men 
 ‘prepared for war,’ that went up with Joshua, who was feared 
 ‘as they feared Moses?’ Jos. iv. 13. The margin says, ‘The 
 words of God.’ There are in the Bible 810,697 words, so 
 that the 40,000 and above may refer to the number of those 
 passages intended to convince of sin, of righteousuess, and of 
 judgment to come.—(E d.) 
 
 captain was Captain Conviction ; to him was also 
 given ten thousand men. His ensign’s name was 
 Mr. Sorrow; be did bear the pale colours, and bis 
 escutcheon was the book of the law wide open, 
 from whence issued a flame of fire. De. xxxiii. 2 . The 
 third captain was Captain Judgment; to him was 
 given ten thousand men. His ensign’s name was 
 Mr. Terror; he bare the red colours, and his es¬ 
 cutcheon was a burning fiery furnace. Mat. xiii. 40 , 41 . 
 The fourth captain was Captain Execution ; to him 
 was given ten thousand men. His ensign was one 
 Mr. Justice; life also bare the red colours, and his 
 escutcheon was a fruitless tree, with an axe lying 
 at the root thereof. Mat. iii. 10 . 
 
 These four captains, as I said, had every one of 
 them under his command ten thousand men ; all 
 of good fidelity to the King, and stout at their 
 military actions. 3 
 
 Well, the captains, and their forces, their men 
 and under-officers, being had upon a day by Shad¬ 
 dai into the field, and there called all over by their 
 names, were then and there put into such harness 4 
 as became their degree, and that service that now 
 they were going about for their King. 5 
 
 Now, when the King had mustered his forces— 
 for it is he that mustereth the host to the battle— 
 he gave unto the captains their several commissions, 
 with charge und commandment, in the audience of 
 all the soldiers, that they should take heed faith¬ 
 fully and courageously to do and execute the same. 
 Their commissions were, for the substance of them, 
 the same in form; though as to name, title, place, 
 and degree of the captains, there might be some, 
 but very small variation. And here let me give 
 you an account of the matter and sum contained 
 in their commission. 
 
 A commission from the great Shaddai, King of Man- 
 
 sold, to his trusty and noble captain, the Captain 
 
 Boanerges , G for his making ivar upon the toum 
 
 of Mansoul. 
 
 * 0 thou Boanerges, one of my stout and 
 thundering captains, over one ten Their commis- 
 thousand of my valiant and faithful slon * 
 
 5 ‘ Boanerges,’ a powerful awakening ministry; ‘ Conviction,’ 
 an awful display of the requirements of the law; ‘ Judgment,’ 
 the dreadful expectation of the great day; ‘ Execution,’ the 
 
 destruction of impenitent sinners. These are means of con¬ 
 viction, although in many cases, as that of Lydia, the heart is 
 
 gently opened to admit Emmanuel.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 ‘ Harness;’ dress or equipments for fighting men, or for 
 horses.— (Ed.) 
 
 5 These are the usual means of conviction and conversion, 
 but not the only means. Some are gently led to the Saviour, 
 to others ‘in a dream, in a vision of the night; he openeth the 
 ears of men, and sealeth their instruction.’ Job xxxiii. 15, 16. 
 The great question is, Do I love the Lord ? Does that love 
 lead to obedience ?— (Ed.) 
 
 c A son of thunder, meaning a powerful proclamation of the 
 gospel, which, when made effectual in the heart by the Holy 
 Ghost, becomes the power of God to salvation.— (Mason.) 
 
271 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 h 
 
 servants; go thou in my name, with this thy 
 force, to the miserable town of Mansoul; and 
 when thou comest thither, offer them first con¬ 
 ditions of peace, Mat. x. 11. Luke x. 5. and command 
 them, that casting off the yoke and tyranny of 
 the wicked Diabolus, they return to me, their 
 rightful Prince and Lord; command them, also, that 
 they cleanse themselves from all that is his in the 
 town of Mansoul, and look to thyself that thou hast 
 good satisfaction touching the truth of their obed¬ 
 ience. Thus when thou hast commanded them, if 
 they in truth submit thereto, then do thou, to the 
 uttermost of thy power, what in thee lies, to set 
 up for me a garrison in the famous town of Man¬ 
 soul ; nor do thou hurt the least native that moveth 
 or breatheth therein, if they will submit themselves 
 to me, but treat thou such as if they were thy friend 
 or brother—for all such I love, and they shall be 
 dear unto me—and tell them that I will take a 
 time to come unto them, and to let them know that 
 1 am merciful. 1 Tk. a. 7-11. 
 
 ‘ Put if they shall—notwithstanding thy sum¬ 
 mons, and the production of thy authority—resist, 
 stand out against thee, and rebel, then do I com¬ 
 mand thee to make use of all thy cunning, power, 
 might, and force, to bring them under by strength 
 of hand. Farewell.’ 
 
 Thus you see the sum of their commissions, for, 
 as I said before, for the substance of them they 
 were the same that the rest of the noble captains 
 had. 
 
 Wherefore they having received each commander 
 his authority, at the hand of their King, the day 
 They prepare for being appointed, and the place of their 
 rendezvous prefixed, each commander 
 appeared in such gallantry as became his cause 
 and calling. So, after a new entertainment from 
 Shaddai, with flying colours, they set forward to 
 march towards the famous town of Mansoul. Cap¬ 
 tain Boanerges led the van; Captain Conviction and 
 Captain Judgment made up the main body, and 
 Captain Execution brought up the rear. Eph. ii. 13, 
 17. They then having a long way to go, for the 
 town of Mansoul was far oft’ from the court of Shad- 
 dai, they marched through the regions and countries 
 of many people, not hurting or abusing any, but 
 blessing wherever they came. They also lived upon 
 the King’s cost in all the way they went. * 1 
 
 Having travelled thus for many days, 2 at last 
 they came within sight of Mansoul; the which, 
 
 when they saw, the captains could for their hearts 
 do no less than for a while bewail the condition of 
 the town, for they quickly saw how that it was 
 prostrate to the will of Diabolus, and to his ways 
 and designs. W ell, to be short, the captains came 
 up before the town, march up to Eargate, sit down 
 there, for that w'as the place of hearing. So, when 
 they had pitched their tents and intrenched them¬ 
 selves, they addressed themselves to make their 
 
 are 
 
 convinced by 
 the well-order¬ 
 ed life of the 
 godly. 
 
 assault. 
 
 Now the townsfolk at first, beholding so gal¬ 
 lant a company, so bravely accoutered, The ]d 
 and so excellently disciplined, hav¬ 
 ing on their glittering armour, and 
 displaying of their flying colours, 
 could not but come out of their houses and gaze. 
 But the cunning fox, Diabolus, fearing that the 
 people, after this sight, should on a sudden sum¬ 
 mons, open the gates to the captains, came down 
 with all haste from the castle, aud made them 
 retire into the body of the town, who, when he 
 had them there, made this lying and deceivable 
 speech unto them :— 
 
 * Gentlemen,’ quoth he, ‘although you are my 
 trusty and well-beloved friends, yet I _ t , 
 
 ,, ... ... „ J Diabolus alien- 
 
 cannot but a little chide you for your ates their minds 
 
 late uncircumspect action, in going flumthem - 
 out to gaze on that great and mighty force that 
 but yesterday sat down before, and have now in¬ 
 trenched themselves, in order to the maintaining 
 of a siege against, the famous town of Mansoul. 
 Do you know who they are, whence they come, 
 and what is their purpose in setting down before 
 the town of Mansoul ? They are they That’s false, sa- 
 of whom I have told you long ago, tan - 
 that they would come to destroy this town, and 
 against whom I have been at the cost to arm you 
 with cap-a-pie 3 for your body, besides great forti¬ 
 fications for your mind. Wherefore, then, did you 
 not rather, even at the first appearance of them, 
 cry out, fire the beacons, and give the 
 whole town an alarm concerning them, 
 that we might all have been in a pos¬ 
 ture of defence, and been ready to 
 
 have received them with the highest 
 
 o 
 
 Satan greatly 
 afraid of God’s 
 ministers, that 
 they will Bet 
 Mansoul a- 
 gainst him. 
 
 acts of defiance, then had you showed yourselves 
 men to my liking; whereas, by what you have 
 done, you have made me half-afraid; 1 say lialf- 
 afraid, that when they and we shall* come to push 
 a pike, I shall find you want courage to stand ic 
 
 1 Although Bunyan was uot a hireling preacher, but for a 
 great portion ot his life maintained himself and his family by 
 the labour ot his bauds, yet he plainly intimates that itinerating 
 and missionary labourers in the Lord’s vineyard must be main¬ 
 tained at the Kiug’s cost while away from home.— (Ed.) 
 
 1 he distance to which man has fallen from God, is well 
 set forth in the Church Homily on the Nativity: ‘ Before he 
 
 "as beloved, now he is abhorred; before he was most beautiful 
 
 and precious, now he is vile and wretched. Instead of the image 
 
 of God, he is now the image of the devil; instead of being the 
 citizen of heaven, he is the bond-slave of hell; haviug no one 
 part of his former purity and cleanness, but is altogether spotted 
 and defiled, and is nothing but a lump of sin, and condemned 
 to everlasting death.’ What strange ideas must pass over the 
 mind of an unconverted clergyman, who prides himself on the 
 dignity of human uature, and yet reads this to his congrega¬ 
 tion. —(Ed.) 
 
 3 ‘ Cap-a-pie;* armed all over from head to feet.— {Imp. Lie.) 
 
272 
 
 THE IIOLY WAR. 
 
 
 
 
 •Hen 
 
 '■ ’ IS* 
 
 IS* 
 
 <Mql 
 
 
 out any longer. Wherefore have I commanded a 
 watch, and that you should double your guards at 
 the gates ? Wherefore have I endeavoured to 
 make you as hard as iron, and your hearts as a 
 piece of the nether millstone ? Was it, think you, 
 that you might show yourselves women, and that 
 you might go out like a company of innocents to 
 He stirs them up gaze on your moi tal foes. 
 
 to + henfiihsters P ut yourselves into a posture of de¬ 
 c/the Word f enC e, heat up the drum, gather to¬ 
 gether in warlike manner, that our foes may 
 know that, before they shall conquer this coipoi- 
 ation there are valiant men in Mansoul. 
 
 ‘ I will leave off nowto chide, 1 and will not farther 
 rebuke you j hut I charge you that henceforwaids 
 you let me see no more such actions. Let not 
 henceforward a man of you, without order first 
 obtained from me, so much as show his head over 
 the wall of the town of Mansoul. You have now 
 heard me, do as I have commanded, and you shall 
 cause me that I dwell securely with you, and that 
 I take care as for myself, so for jour safety and 
 honour also. Farewell.’ 1 
 
 Now were the townsmen strangely altered ; they 
 were as men stricken with a panic fear; they ran 
 to and fro through the streets of the 
 
 TiearkeuTo* 1 si- town of Mansoul, crying out, ‘ Help, 
 
 tan, they are j the men that turn the world 
 
 set in a rage r . . , 
 
 against godii- upside down are come hither also; 
 
 nor could any of them be quiet after, 
 hut still, as men bereft of wit, they cried out, ‘ The 
 destroj r ers of our peace and people are come. ’ This 
 went down with Diubolus. ‘Aj r e!’ quoth he to 
 himself, ‘ this I like well, now it is as I would 
 have it; now you show your obedience to j T our 
 prince, hold j r ou but here, and then let them take 
 the town if they can.’ 
 
 Well, before the King’s forces had sat before 
 Mansoul three days, Captain Boanerges commanded 
 „„ ... , , his trumpeter to go down to Eargate, 
 pet sounded at and there, in the name of the great 
 Eargate. Shaddai, to summons Mansoul to give 
 
 audience to the message that he, in his Master s 
 name, was to them commanded to deliver. So the 
 trumpeter, whose name was Take-heed-what-j r ou- 
 hear, went up, as he was commanded, to Ear-gate, 
 and there sounded his trumpet for a hearing; but 
 They will not there was none that appeared that 
 liear - gave answer or regard; for so had 
 
 Diabolus commanded. So the trumpeter returned 
 to his captain, and told him what he had done, and 
 
 also how he had sped. Whereat the captain was 
 grieved, but bid the trumpeter go to his tent. 
 
 Again Captain Boanerges sendeth his trumpeter 
 to Eargate, to sound, as before, for a a second sum¬ 
 hearing. But they again kept close, m0UsrepUiSec1 ' 
 came not out, nor would they give him an answer, 
 so observant were they of the command of Diabolus 
 their king. 2 
 
 Then the captains, and other field-officers, called 
 a council of war, 8 to consider what Aconncilofw , r 
 further was to be done for the gaining 
 of the town of Mansoul, and, after some close and 
 thorough debate upon the contents of their commis¬ 
 sions, they concluded yet to give to the town, by 
 the hand of the fore-named trumpeter, another 
 summons to hear; but if that shall be refused, 
 said they, and that the town shall stand it out 
 still, then they determined, and bid the trumpeter 
 tell them so, that they would endeavour, by what 
 means they could, to compel them by force to the 
 obedience of their King. Lu. xiv. 23 . 
 
 So Captain Boanerges commanded his trum¬ 
 peter to go up to Eargate again, and, a third sum- 
 in the name of the great King Shaddai, m01is ' 
 to give it a very loud summons, to come down with¬ 
 out delay to Eargate, there to give audience to 
 the King’s most noble captains. So the trumpeter 
 went and did as he was commanded. He went up 
 to Eargate and sounded his trumpet, and gave a 
 third summons to Mansoul; he said, moreover, 
 that if this they should still refuse to do, the cap¬ 
 tains of his Prince would with might come down 
 upon them, and endeavour to reduce them to their 
 obedience bj T force, is. lviii. 1 . 
 
 Then stood up my Lord Will-be-will, who was 
 the governor of the town; this Will- The Lord wrn-be- 
 be-will was that apostate of whom 
 mention was made before, and the 
 keeper of the gates of Mansoul. He, therefore, 
 with big and ruffling words, demanded of the 
 trumpeter who he was, whence he came, and 
 what was the cause of his making so hideous a 
 noise at the gate, and speaking such insufferable 
 words against the town of Mansoul ? 
 
 The trumpeter answered, ‘ I am servant to the 
 most noble captain, Captain Boanerges, Thetrumpeter> 
 general of the forces of the great King 
 Shaddai, against whom both thyself, with the whole 
 town of Mansoul, have rebelled, and lift up the heel; 
 and my master, the captain, hath a special mes- 
 
 1 To alarm and to persuade are the two principal means by 
 which the devil tempts men; and it is not uncommon among 
 Christians to feel the influence of both on one occasion. Now, 
 as two things so dissimilar are not likely to arise out of the 
 self-same mind, is not this an evidence ot the power oi some 
 foreign and infernal influence over the human heart ? Let us, 
 theu, be always awake to a sense of our danger, and put on 
 the whole armour of God.—(Mason,) 
 
 2 ‘ Faith cometh by hearingbut, alas ! how often, at the 
 instigation of Satan, is the ear shut against the messages ol 
 grace. The Christian inquirer’s duty is to hear and search all 
 things, and hold fast that which is good.—(E d.) 
 
 3 The knowledge which Bunyan displays upon all subjects 
 is very surprising. He had an opportunity, when in the army, 
 of hearing about councils of war, at which, in that day, captains 
 may have assisted; but now a captain is not called ‘ a field- 
 officer/—(hi>.) 
 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 273 
 
 
 sago to this town, and to dice as a member thereof; 
 the which, if you of Mansoul shall peaceably hear, 
 so; 1 and if not, you must take what follows.’ 
 
 Then said the Lord Will-be-will, ‘ I will carry 
 Wili-be-wffl. words to my lord, and will know 
 what he will say.’- But the trumpeter 
 The trumpeter. s0011 replied, saying, ‘ Our message is 
 
 not to the giant Diabolus, but to the miserable 
 town of Mansoul. Nor shall we at all regard what 
 answer by him is made, nor yet by any for him. 
 We are sent to this town to recover it from under 
 his cruel tyranny, and to persuade it to submit, as 
 in former times it did, to the most excellent King 
 Shaddai.’ 
 
 Then said the Lord Will-be-will, ‘I will do your 
 Wiii-be-wiii. errand to the town.’ The trumpeter 
 then replied, ‘ Sir, do not deceive us, 
 r.ie trumpeter. ] es t j n s0 doing, you deceive yourselves 
 
 much more.’ lie added, moreover, ‘For we are 
 resolved, if in peaceable manner you do not sub¬ 
 mit yourselves, then to make a war upon you, and 
 to bring you under by force. And of the truth 
 of what 1 now say, this shall be a sign unto you; 
 you shall see the black flag, with its hot-burning 
 thunder-bolts, set upon the mount to-morrow, as a 
 token of defiance against your prince, and of our 
 resolutions to reduce you to your Lord and rightful 
 King.’ 
 
 So the said Lord Will-be-will returned from off 
 
 The trumpeter wa ^> au( ^ the trumpeter came into 
 returns to the the camp. When the trumpeter was 
 
 camp. . A 1 
 
 come into the camp, the captains and 
 officers of the mighty King Shaddai came together 
 to know if he had obtained a hearing, and what 
 was the effect of his errand. So the trumpeter 
 told, saying, * When I had sounded my trumpet, 3 
 and had called aloud to the town for a hearing, 
 my Lord Will-be-will, the governor of the town, 
 and he that hath charge of the gates, came up, 
 when he heard me sound, and looking over the 
 wall, h^ asked me what I was, whence I came, 
 and what was the cause of my making this noise ? 
 So I told him my errand, and by whose authority 
 1 brought it. Then, said he, I will tell it to the 
 governor and to Mansoul; and then I returned to 
 my Lords.’ 
 
 Then said the brave Boanerges, * Let us yet for 
 a while lie still in our trenches, and see what these 
 rebels will do.’ Now when the time 
 drew nigh that audience by Mansoul 
 must be given to the brave Boanerges 
 and his companions, it was commanded 
 that all the men of war, throughout 
 the whole camp of Shaddai, should as one man 
 
 Carnal souls 
 make a wrong 
 interpretation 
 of the design 
 of a gospel 
 ministry. 
 
 1 So; let it be so; let it be in that manner. ‘ There is 
 Percy; it your lather will do me any honour, so ; if not, let 
 him kill the next Percy himself.’—Shak. • Imp. Lic.—{ Ed.) 
 
 I low wretchedly are poor sinners enslaved to the devil, 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 stand to their arms, and make themselves readv, 
 if the town of Mansoul shall hear, to receive it 
 forthwith to mercy, but if not, to force a subjec¬ 
 tion. So the day being come, the trumpeters 
 sounded, and that throughout the whole camp, 
 that the men of war might he in a readiness for 
 that which then should be the work of the day. 
 But when they that were in the town of Mansoul 
 heard the sound of the trumpets throughout the 
 camp of Shaddai, and thinking no other hut that 
 it must he in order to storming the corporation, 
 they at first were put to great consternation of 
 spirit; hut after they were a little settled again, 
 they also made what preparation they could for a 
 war, if they did storm, else to secure themselves. 
 
 Well, when the utmost time was come, Boan¬ 
 erges was resolved to hear their answer; where¬ 
 fore he sent out his trumpeter again, to summons 
 Mansoul to a hearing of the message that they 
 had brought from Shaddai. So he went and 
 sounded, and the townsmen came up, but made 
 Eargate as sure as they could. Zee. vii. n. Now 
 when they were come up to the top of the wall, 
 Captain Boanerges desired to see the 
 Lord Mayor, but my Lord Incredulity fuses to make 
 was then Lord Mayor, for he came in JudgSwLt 
 the room of my Lord Lustings. So he had to dc- 
 
 ^ ° liver to the 
 
 Incredulity he came up and showed famous town 
 
 himself over the wall; hut when the 0fMans>0lu * 
 
 Captain Boanerges had set his eyes upon him, he 
 
 cried out aloud, ‘ This is not he, where is my Lord 
 
 Understanding, the ancient Lord Mayor of the 
 
 town of Mansoul, for to him I would deliver my 
 
 message V 
 
 Then said the giant—for Diabolus was also 
 come down—to the captain, ‘ Mr. Captain, you 
 have by your boldness given to Mansoul, at least, 
 four summons to subject herself to your King, by 
 whose authority I know not, nor will I dispute 
 that now; I ask, therefore, what is the reason of 
 all this ado, or what would you be at, if you knew 
 yourselves ?’ 
 
 Then Captain Boanerges, whose was the black 
 colours, and whose escutcheon was the Boanerges ob- 
 three burning thunder-bolts, taking no tams a “ eann ?- 
 notice of the giant or of his speech, thus addressed 
 himself to the town of Mansoul: ‘ Be 
 
 -i , r\ i i His speech. 
 
 it known unto you, 0 unhappy and re¬ 
 bellious Mansoul, that the most gracious King, 
 the great King Shaddai, my master, hath sent me 
 unto you with commission,’ and so he showed to 
 the town his broad seal, ‘ to reduce you to his 
 
 * led captive by him at his will,’ and not daring to listen to 
 God without his [the devil’s] leave.—(Burder.) 
 
 3 The trumpeters are the ministers of the everlasting gospel 
 of peace; they proelaim the glad tidings of salvation through 
 the blood-shedding and finished w'ork of the Son of God.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 35 
 
I 
 
 274 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 4, 
 
 s 
 
 • 3 } 
 
 Bl Lt» 
 
 55 
 
 a 
 
 obedience. And he hath commanded me, in case 
 you yield upon my summons, to carry it to you as 
 if you were my friends, or brother; but he also 
 hath bid, that if after summons to submit, you 
 still stand out and rebel, we should endeavour to 
 take you by force.’ 
 
 Then stood forth Captain Conviction, and said 
 —his was the pale colours, and for an 
 Captain Con- escutcheon, he had the book of the 
 vietion. i aw w id e 0 p en [f rom whence issued a 
 
 flame of fire]—‘ Hear, 0 Mansoul! Thou, 0 
 Mansoul, wast once famous for innocency, but now 
 thou art degenerated into lies and deceit, ito. iii. 3, 
 10 - 23 ; xvi. 17, is. Thou hast heard what my brother 
 the Captain Boanerges hath said; and it is your 
 wisdom, and will be your happiness, to stoop to, 
 and accept of, conditions of peace and mercy when 
 offered; especially when offered by one against 
 whom thou hast rebelled, and one who is of power 
 to tear thee in pieces, for so is Shaddai our King; 
 nor, when he is angry, can anything stand before 
 him. Ps. l. 21 , 22 . If you say you have not sinned, 
 nor acted rebellion against our King, the whole of 
 your doings, since the day that you cast off his 
 service—and there was the beginning of your sin 
 will sufficiently testify against you. What else 
 means your hearkening to the tyrant, and your 
 receiving him for your king ? What means else 
 your rejecting of the laws of Shaddai, and your 
 obeying of Diabolus ? Yea, what means this your 
 taking up of arms against, and the shutting of 
 your gates upon us, the faithful servants of your 
 King ? Be ruled then, and accept of my brother’s 
 invitation, and overstand not the time of mercy, 
 but agree with thine adversary quickly. Lu. xii. 58, 59. 
 Ah, Mansoul, suffer not thyself to be kept from 
 mercy, and to be run into a thousand miseries, by 
 the flattering wiles of Diabolus. Perhaps that 
 piece of deceit may attempt to make you believe 
 that we seek our own profit in this our service 
 but know, it is obedience to our King, and love to 
 your happiness, that is the cause of this under¬ 
 taking of ours. 
 
 * Again, I say to thee, 0 Mansoul, consider if it 
 be not amazing grace that Shaddai should so 
 humble himself as he doth. Now, he by us reasons 
 with you, in a way of entreaty and sweet persua¬ 
 sions, that you would subject yourselves to him. 
 Has he that need of you, that we are sure you 
 have of him ? No, no; but he is merciful, and 
 will not that Mansoul should die, but turn to him 
 and live. ’ 2 Co. v. is— 21 . 
 
 Then stood forth Captain Judgment, whose was 
 
 1 Godly ministers cannot be too careful in their conduct to 
 guard against the appearance of preferring the fleece to the 
 flock. The worldling has, alas, continual proofs that many 
 are influenced by their own profit instead of love to immortal 
 souls.— (Ed.) 
 
 the red colours, and for an escutcheon he had the 
 burning fiery furnace, and he said, ‘ 0 Captain j u dg.' 
 ye, the inhabitants of the town of Man- ment,ins speech 
 soul, that have lived so long in rebel¬ 
 lion and acts of treason against the King Shaddai; 
 know that we come not to-day to this place, in 
 this manner, with our message of our own minds, 
 or to revenge our own quarrel; it is the King, my 
 master, that Jiath sent us to reduce you to your 
 obedience to him, the which if you refuse in a 
 peaceable way to yield, we have commission to 
 compel you thereto. And never think of your¬ 
 selves, nor yet suffer the tyrant Diabolus to per¬ 
 suade you to think, that our King, by his power, 
 is not able to bring you down, and to lay you 
 under his feet; for he is the former of all things, 
 and if he touches the mountains, they smoke. 
 Nor will the gate of the King’s clemency stand 
 always open; for the day that shall burn like aq 
 oven is before him, yea, it hasteth greatly, it slum- 
 bereth not. Mai. iv. 1 . 2 re. ii. 3 . 
 
 ‘ 0 Mansoul ! Is it little in thine eyes that 
 our King doth offer thee mercy, and that, after so 
 many provocations ? Yea, he still holdeth out his 
 golden sceptre to thee, and will not yet suffer his 
 gate to be shut against thee. Wilt thou provoke 
 him to do it ? If so, consider of what I say : — 
 To thee it is opened no more for ever. Job xxxvi. 14 . 
 If thou sayest thou shalt not see him, yet judgment 
 is before him ; therefore trust thou in him. Yea, 
 “because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee 
 away with his stroke; then a great ransom cannot 
 deliver thee.” ver. is. Will he esteem thy riches ? 
 No; not gold, nor all the forces of strength. “He 
 hath prepared his throne for judgment.” Ps. ix. 7 . 
 For “ he will come with fire, and with his chariots 
 like a whirlwind, to render his anger with fury, 
 and his rebuke with flames of fire.” is. lxvi. 15 . 
 Therefore, 0 Mansoul, take heed, lest after thou 
 hast fulfilled the judgment of the wicked, justice 
 and judgment should take hold of tliee.’ 
 
 Now, while the Captain Judgment was making 
 of this oration to the town of Mansoul, it was ob¬ 
 served by some that Diabolus trembled. 2 But he 
 proceeded in his parable, and said, ‘ 0 thou wofjul 
 town of Mansoul! wilt thou not yet set open thy 
 gate to receive us, the deputies of thy King, and 
 those that would rejoice to see thee live ? “ Can 
 
 thine heart endure, or can thine hands be strong, 
 in the days that he shall deal” in judgment “ with 
 thee ? ” Eze. xxii. 14. I say, canst thou endure to 
 be forced to drink, as one would drink sweet wine, 
 the sea of wrath that our King has prepared for 
 Diabolus and his angels ? Consider betimes, con¬ 
 sider. ’ 
 
 2 ‘ The devils believe and trembleso when Paul reasoned 
 of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come, Felix 
 trembled. Alas! manv tremble who never turn.—(Border.) 
 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 275 
 
 Then stood forth the fourth captain, the noble 
 _. . . Captain Execution, and said: ‘Otown 
 
 Captain Exe- ot Mansoul: once famous, but now 
 like the fruitless bough; once the de¬ 
 light of the high ones, but now a den for Diabolus: 
 hearken also to me, and to the words that I shall 
 speak to thee in the name of the great Shaddai. 
 Behold “ the axe is laid unto the root of the trees: 
 therefore every tree which bringeth not forth good 
 fruit, is hewn down, and cast into the fire. ” Mat. m.7-10. 
 
 * Thou, 0 town of Mansoul! hath hitherto been 
 this fruitless tree; thou bearest nought but thorns 
 and briars. Thy evil fruit fore-bespeaks thee not 
 to be a good tree. Thy “grapes are grapes of 
 gall, thy clusters are bitter. ” De. xxxii. 32. Thou hast 
 rebelled against thy King, and lo! we, the power 
 and force of Shaddai, are the axe that is laid to 
 thy roots. What sayest thou, wilt thou turn? I 
 say again, tell me before the first blow is given, 
 wilt thou turn ? Our axe must first be laid to thy 
 root, before it be laid at thy root; it must first be 
 laid to thy root in a way of threatening, before it 
 is laid at thy root by way of execution; and be¬ 
 tween these two is required thy repentance, and 
 this is all the time that thou hast. What wilt 
 thou do? wilt thou turn, or shall I smite? If I 
 fetch my blow, Mansoul, down you go; for I have 
 commission to lay my axe at, as well as to thy 
 roots, nor will anything but yielding to our King 
 prevent doing of execution. What art thou fit 
 for, 0 Mansoul, if mercy preventeth not, but to be 
 hewn down, and cast into the fire and burned? 
 
 ‘ 0 Mansoul! patience and forbearance do not 
 act for ever; a year or two, or three, they may; 
 but if thou provoke by a three years’ rebellion— 
 and thou hast already done more than this—then 
 what follows but cut it down? Nay, “after that 
 thou shalt cut it down.” Lu. xiu. 9 . And dost thou 
 tliink that these are but threatenings, or that our 
 King has not power to execute his words? 0 
 Mansoul! thou wilt find that in the words of our 
 King, when they are by sinners made little or light 
 of, there is not only threatening, but burning coals 
 of fire. Thou hast been a cumber-ground 1 long; 
 already, and wilt thou continue so still? Thy sin 
 has brought this army to thy walls, and shall it 
 bring it in judgment to do execution into thy town? 
 Thou hast heard what the captains have said, but 
 as yet thou shuttest thy gates ; speak out, Mansoul, 
 wilt thou do so still, or wilt thou accept of con¬ 
 ditions of peace?’ 2 
 
 r i liese brave speeches of these four noble captains 
 the town of Mansoul refused to hear, yet a sound 
 
 1 ‘ Cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground?’ Lu. xiii. 7. 
 
 A cumber-ground professor is not only a provocation to God, 
 a stumbling-block to the world, aud a blemish to religion, but 
 a snare to his own soul also.’ — Bunyan’s Barren Tin Tree 
 Trtface. —(Ed.) 
 
 thereof did beat against Eargate, though the 
 
 force thereof could not break it open. In fine, the 
 
 town desired a time to prepare their 
 
 i bm Mansoul desires 
 
 answer to these demands. The cap- time to make 
 
 tains then told them, ‘That if they auswer * 
 would throw out to them one Illpause, that was 
 in the town, that they might reward him accord¬ 
 ing to his works, then they would give them time 
 to consider; but if they would not cast upon what con- 
 him to them over the Avail of Mansoul, 1 . ons t, ‘ e 1 C; ’P- 
 
 . ’ tains would give 
 
 then they would give them none ; for, them time. 
 
 said they, ‘ we know that so long as Illpause 
 
 draws breath in Mansoul, all good consideration 
 
 Avill be confounded, and nothing but mischief Avill 
 
 come thereon.’ 
 
 Then Diabolus, who was there present, being 
 loth to lose his Illpause, because he DiaMus lnter . 
 Avas his orator, (and yet be sure he ru pts them, 
 had, could the captains have laid their credulity to 
 fingers on him,) was resolved at this , a,lswer them - 
 instant to give them answer by himself; but then, 
 changing his mind, he commanded the then Lord 
 Mayor, the Lord Incredulity, to do it, saying, 
 
 ‘ My Lord, do you give these runagates an answer; 
 and speak out, that Mansoul may hear, and under¬ 
 stand you.’ 
 
 So Incredulity, at Diabolus’s command, began 
 and said: ‘ Gentlemen, you have here, 
 as we do behold, to the disturbance of IIlsspeech - 
 our prince, and the molestation of the town of 
 Mansoul, camped against it: but from Avhence you 
 come Ave Avill not knoAV, and Avhat you are Ave Avill 
 not believe. Indeed, you tell us in your terrible 
 speech that you have this authority from Shaddai; 
 but by what right he commands you to do it, of 
 that Ave shall yet be ignorant. You have also, by 
 the authority aforesaid, summoned this town to 
 desert her lord; and for protection, to yield up 
 herself to the great Shaddai, your King; flatter¬ 
 ingly telling her, that if she Avill do it, he will pass 
 by, and not charge her with her past offences. 
 Further, you have also, to the terror of the toAvn 
 of Mansoul, threatened, Avith great and sore de¬ 
 structions, to punish this corporation, if she con¬ 
 sents not to do as your Avills Avould have her. 
 
 ‘ Noav, captains, from Avhencesoever you come, 
 and though your designs be never so right, yet 
 knoAV ye, that neither my lord Diabolus, nor I his 
 servant Incredulity, nor yet our brave Mansoul, 
 doth regard either your persons, message, or the 
 King that you say hath sent you: his power, his 
 greatness, his vengeance, Ave fear not; nor Avill avc 
 yield at all to your summons. 
 
 2 There is much energy in this speech; pungent addresses 
 to the conscience are often blessed of God to the conversion of 
 souls. O sinner! consult not flesh and blood—throw over that 
 old Illpause; nor let procrastination or ‘a more convenient 
 season’ destroy thy soul.—(E d.) 
 
276 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Flesh. 
 
 ‘ As for tlie war that you threaten to make upon 
 us, we must therein defend ourselves as well as we 
 can; and know ye, that we are not without where¬ 
 withal to bid defiance to you. And, in short, for 
 I will not be tedious, I tell you that we take you 
 to he some vagabond runagate crew, that, having 
 shaken off all obedience to your King, have gotten 
 together in tumultuous manner, and are ranging 
 from place to place to see if, through the flatteries 
 you are skilled to make on the one side, and threats 
 wherewith you think to fright on the other, to 
 make some silly town, city, or country, to desert 
 their place and leave it to you; hut Mansoul is 
 none of them. T(? conclude, we dread you not, we 
 fear you not, nor will we obey your summons: our 
 gates we keep shut upon you, our place we will 
 keep you out of; nor will we long thus suffer you to 
 sit down before us. Our people must live in quiet; 
 your appearance doth disturb them (lu. xi. 21.); 
 wherefore arise with bag and baggage, and 
 begone, or we will let fly from the walls 
 against you. ’ 1 
 
 This oration, made by old Incredulity, was 
 seconded by desperate Will-be-will, in words to 
 this effect: ‘ Gentlemen, we have heard 
 
 The speech of , . . • c 
 
 the Lord Will- your demands, and the noise 01 your 
 
 be-wiH. threats, and have heard the sound of 
 
 your summons, but we fear not your force; we re¬ 
 gard not your threats, but will still abide as you 
 found us. And we command you, that in three 
 days’ time you cease to appear in these parts, or 
 you shall know what it is once to dare offer to 
 rouse the lion Diabolus, when asleep in his town 
 of Mansoul.’ 
 
 The Recorder, whose name was Forget-good, he 
 , also added as followeth: ‘ Gentlemen, 
 
 The speech of . . , 
 
 Forget-good the my Lords, as you see, have, with 
 
 Recorder. m ild and gentle words, answered your 
 
 rough and angry speeches ; they have, moreover, 
 
 in my hearing, given you leave quietly to depart 
 
 as you came. Wherefore, take their kindness, and 
 
 begone. We might have come out with force upon 
 
 you, and have caused you to feel the dint of our 
 
 swords; but as we love ease and quiet ourselves, 
 
 so we love not to hurt or molest others.’ 2 
 
 Then did the town of Mansoul shout for joy; as 
 The town re- if, by Diabolus and his crew, some 
 sfSthe^p 1 - great advantage had been gotten of 
 tains. the captains. They also rang the 
 
 1 Thus reasons the flesh—We will not know; we will not 
 believe; we will not submit; we must not be disturbed; there¬ 
 fore begone ye faithful teachers, or we null persecute you.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
 2 If the Holy Spirit would let sinners sleep on, all mankind 
 would lie in carnal security until plunged into destruction and 
 perdition. ‘ Go iuto the highways and compel them to come in,’ 
 is the command of Divine mercy and irresistible grace.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 How admirably is that great enemy ‘Prejudice’ pictured; 
 
 old, angry, ill-conditioned, with Deafness under his command. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 bells, and made merry, and danced upon the walls. 
 Diabolus also returned to the castle, and the Lord 
 Mayor and Recorder to their place; but the Lord 
 Will-be-will took special care that the gates should 
 be secured with double guards, double bolts, and 
 double locks and bars. And that Eargate espe¬ 
 cially might the better be looked to—for that was 
 the gate in at which the King’s forces sought 
 most to enter—the Lord Will-be-will made one old 
 Mr. Prejudice, an angry and ill-conditioned fellow, 
 captain of the ward at that gate, and The band ot 
 put under his power sixty men, called deaf men set to 
 Deafmen ; 3 men advantageous . for kee P £d] s ate - 
 that service, forasmuch as they mattered no words 
 of the captains, nor of their soldiers. 4 
 
 [Chapter V.] 
 
 [Contents:— The captains resolve to give them battle—The 
 town resolutely resists, and the captains retire to winter 
 quarters—Tradition, Human-wisdom, and Man’s-inven- 
 tion enlist under Boanerges, but are taken prisoners, and 
 carried to Diabolus; they are admitted soldiers for him, 
 under Captain Anything—Hostilities are renewed, and 
 the town much molested—A famine and mutiny in Man¬ 
 soul—The town sounds a parley—Propositions made and 
 rejected—Understanding and Conscience quarrel with 
 Incredulity—A skirmish ensues, and mischief is done on 
 both sides.] 
 
 Now, when the captains saw the answer of the 
 ojeat ones, and that they could not , . 
 
 get a hearing from the old natives ox solved to give 
 the town, and that Mansoul was re- thembattle - 
 solved to give the King’s army battle, they pre¬ 
 pared themselves to receive them, and to try it out 
 by the power of the arm. And first, they made 
 their force more formidable against Eargate; for 
 they knew that unless they could penetrate that, 
 no good could be done upon the town. This done, 
 they put the rest of their men in their places; 
 after which they gave out the word, which was, 
 ‘Ye must be born again.’ 0 Then 
 
 -iTT . ,, The battle begun. 
 
 they sounded the trumpet; then they 
 in the town made them answer, with shout against 
 shout, charge against charge, and so the battle 
 began. Now they in the town had planted upon the 
 tower over Eargate, two great guns, gu ns planted 
 the one called Highmind, and the upon Eargate. 
 other Heady. Unto these two guns they trusted 
 
 4 How often do floor mistaken sinners rejoice in their sins 
 and misery—glorying in their shame. Small cause for joy 
 have they who reject the counsel of God against themselves. 
 Miserable is the state of that man whose ears are shut against 
 the gospel of salvation ; who is deaf to all the calls of God.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
 5 As our Lord began with Nicodemus, so it behoves his 
 followers to commence with sinners. How startling the cry, 
 Ye must be born again, or perish everlastingly. ‘ If thou hast 
 anything less than regeneration, believe me, thou const never 
 see heaven. There is no hope of heaven till then, till thou art 
 born again.’—(Archbishop Usher’s Sermons.) — (Ed.) 
 
TTIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 277 
 
 much ; they were cast in the castle by Diabolus’s 
 founder, whose name was Mr. Puffup; and mis¬ 
 chievous pieces they were. 1 Hut. so vigilant and 
 watchful, when the captains saw them, were they, 
 that though sometimes their shot would go bv their 
 ears with a whiz, vet they did them no harm. 
 By these two guns the towns-folk made no ques- 
 . tion but greatly to annoy the camp of Shaddai, 
 and well enough to secure the gate, but they had 
 not much cause to boast of what execution they 
 did, as by what follows will be gathered. 
 
 The famous Mansoul had also some other small 
 pieces in it, of the which they made use against 
 the camp of Shaddai. 
 
 They from the camp also did as stoutly, and 
 with as much of that as may in truth be called 
 The sentence va ^ our » let Ay as fast at the town and 
 
 theWo'd" ° f at Ear S ate: f° r they saw that unless 
 they could break open Eargate, it 
 would be but in vain to batter the wall. Now the 
 King’s captains had brought with them several 
 slings, and two or three battering-rams; with their 
 slings, therefore, they battered the houses and 
 people of the town, and with their rams they sought 
 to break Eargate open. 
 
 The camp and the town had several skirmishes, 
 and brisk encounters, while the captains, with their 
 engines, made many brave attempts to break open, 
 or beat down, the tower that was over Eargate, 
 and at the said gate to make their entrance. But 
 Mansoul stood it out so lustily, through the rage 
 The town stoutly Biabolus, the valour of the Lord 
 SeoTptSns^ W^-be-will, and the conduct of old 
 turn to their Incredulity, the Mayor, and Mr. For- 
 
 winterquaiters. g et _g 0od> t p e Recorder, that the 
 
 charge and expense of that summer’s wars, on the 
 King’s side, seemed to be almost quite lost, and 
 the advantage to return to Mansoul. But when 
 the captains saw how it was, they made a fair 
 retreat, and intrenched themselves in their winter 
 quarters. Now in this war, you must needs think 
 there was much loss on both sides, of which be 
 pleased to accept of this brief account follow- 
 
 ino ;:—* 
 
 © 
 
 The King’s captains, when they marched from 
 
 An account of ^ ie court to come ll P against Mansoul 
 
 reference '"to t0 war ’ as ^ e J came crossing over 
 the loss on both the country, they happened to light 
 
 upon three young fellows that had a 
 mind to go for soldiers; proper men they were, 
 and men of courage and skill, to appearance. 
 Three new sol- Their names were Mr. Tradition, Mr. 
 
 Human-wisdom, and Mr. Man’s-inven- 
 
 1 nde and vain conceit puff up multitudes in every class of 
 society. My soul, art thou thus puffed up, or hast thou fallen 
 into the arms of Divine mercy ? Almighty crace can bring the 
 mountain low, and exalt the valley. A learned persecuting 
 oaui may become a chosen vessel.—(E d.) 
 
 | tion. So they came up to the captains, and prof- 
 | fered their services to Shaddai. The captains 
 then told them of their design, and bid them not 
 to be rash in their offers; but the young men told 
 them they had considered the thing before, and 
 that hearing they were upon their march for such 
 a design, came hither on purpose to meet them, 
 that they might be listed under their excellencies. 
 Then Captain Boanerges, for that they were men 
 of courage, listed them into his company, and so 
 away they went to the war. 
 
 Now when the war was begun, in one of the 
 briskest skirmishes, so it was, that a company of 
 the Lord Will-be-will’s men sallied out at the 
 sally-port, or postern of the town, and fell in upon 
 the rear of Captain Boanerges’s men, where these 
 three fellows happened to be, so they They are takcn 
 took them prisoners, and away they prisoners, 
 carried them into the town; where they had not 
 lain long in durance, but it began to be noised 
 about the streets of the town what three notable 
 prisoners the Lord Will-be-will’s men had taken, 
 and brought in prisoners out of the camp of Shad¬ 
 dai. At length tidings thereof were carried to 
 Diabolus to the castle, to wit, what my Lord Will- 
 be-will’s men had done, and whom they had taken 
 prisoners. 
 
 Then Biabolus called for Will-be-will, to know 
 the certainty of this matter. So he asked him, 
 and he told him; then did the giant T1 i 
 send for the prisoners, who, when before Diabolus, 
 they were come, demanded of them tofightunderhis 
 I who they were, whence they came, ba,mer> 
 and what they did in the camp of Shaddai; and 
 they told him. Then he sent them to ward again. 
 Not many days after, he sent for them to him 
 again, and then asked them if they would be willing 
 to serve him against their former captains. They 
 then told him that they did not so much live by 
 | religion, as by the fates of fortune; and that since * 
 his lordship was willing to entertain them, they 
 should be willing to serve him. Now while things 
 were thus in hand, there was one 
 Captain Anything, a great doer in the Al D tbin £- 
 town of Mansoul, and to this Captain Anything 
 did Diabolus send these men, with a note under 
 his hand to receive them into his com- lie therefore 
 pany; the contents of which letter 
 were thus:— a letter/ 
 
 ‘ Anything, my darling, the three men that are 
 the bearers of this letter have a desire to serve me 
 in the war, nor know I better to whose conduct 
 to commit them than to thine ; receive them, there¬ 
 fore, in my name, and, as need shall require, make 
 
 2 The opposition of a raging devil and inbred lusts would 
 lead the most able ministers to despair of success, but for tho 
 promise, ‘ I am with you always;’ and ‘ All that the Father 
 giveth me shall come to me.’—(Mason.) 
 
273 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 A 
 
 : 
 
 / 
 
 i.n i' 
 
 t 
 
 *(!;«( 
 
 Sij 
 
 & 
 
 wi 
 
 use of them against Shaddai and his men. Fare- 
 "... . well.’ So they came, and he received 
 
 them into liisser- them; and lie made of two of them 
 uc °‘ serjeants, hut he made Mr. Man’s- 
 
 invention his armour-bearer. But thus much for 
 this, and now to return to the camp. 1 
 
 They of the camp did also some execution upon 
 The roof of old the town, for they did beat down the 
 We dulit beat roof of the old Lord Mayor’s house, 
 down. a nd so laid him more open than he 
 
 was before. They had almost, with a sling, slain 
 my Lord Will-be-will outright; but he made a 
 shift to recover again. But they made a notable 
 slaughter among the aldermen, for with one only 
 Six aldermen shot they cut off six of them; to wit, 
 slain. Mr. Swearing, Mr. Whoring, Mr. 
 Fury, Mr. Stand-to-lies, Mr. Drunkenness, and 
 Mr. Cheating. 2 
 
 They also dismounted the two guns that stood 
 
 The two great guns upon the tower over Eargate, and 
 dismounted. l a id ^hem flat in the dirt. 3 I told 
 
 you before, that the King’s noble captains had 
 drawn off to their winter quarters, and had there 
 intrenched themselves and their carriages, so as 
 with the best advantage to their King, and the 
 greatest annoyance to the enemy, they might give 
 seasonable and warm alarms to the town of Man- 
 soul. And this design of them did so hit, that, I 
 may say, they did almost what they would to the 
 molestation of the corporation. 
 
 For now could not Mansoul sleep securely as 
 
 Continual alarms before, nor could they now go to 
 given to Mansoul. t] ie i r debaucheries with that quiet¬ 
 ness as in times past. For they had from the 
 camp of Shaddai such frequent, warm, and terri- 
 The effects of fying alarms; yea, alarms upon alarms, 
 tlmugii Ctl0 coni- first at one gate, and then at another, 
 mon, if abiding. an d again at all the gates at once, 
 
 that they were broken as to former peace. Yea, 
 they had their alarms so frequently, and that when 
 the nights 4 were at longest, the weather coldest, 
 and so consequently the season most unseasonable; 
 that that winter was to the town of Mansoul a 
 winter by itself. Sometimes the trumpets would 
 sound, and sometimes the slings would whirl the 
 The town much stones into the town. Sometimes ten 
 
 be running round the walls of Mansoul at midnight, 
 shouting, and lifting up the voice for the battle. 
 Sometimes, again, some of them in the town would 
 be wounded, and their cry and lamentable voice 
 would be heard, to the great molestation of the 
 now languishing town of Mansoul. Yea, so dis¬ 
 tressed with those that laid siege against them 
 were they, that, I dare say, Diabolus their king 
 had, in these days, his rest much broken. 
 
 In these days, as I was informed, new thoughts, 
 and thoughts that began to run counter Chfmo . e o{ 
 one to another, began to possess the thoughts in 
 
 . . „ . ? , „ ,, Mansoul. 
 
 minds of the men of the town ot Man¬ 
 soul. Some would say, ‘ There is no living thus;’ 
 others would then reply, ‘ This will be over shortly.’ 
 Then would a third stand up and answer, ‘ Let us 
 turn to the King Shaddai, and so put an end to 
 these troubles.’ And a fourth would come in with 
 a fear, saying, ‘ I doubt he will not re- conscience 
 ceive us.’ 5 The old gentleman too, the speaks. 
 Recorder, that was so before Diabolus took Man¬ 
 soul, he also began to talk aloud; and his words 
 were now to the town of Mansoul as if they were 
 great claps of thunder. No noise now so terrible 
 to Mansoul as was his, with the noise of the sol¬ 
 diers, and shoutings of the captains. 
 
 Also, things began to grow scarce in Mansoul; 
 now the things that her soul lusted A famine in 
 after were departing from her. Upon 
 all her pleasant things there Avas a blast, and 
 burning instead of beauty. Wrinkles noAv, and 
 some shoAvs of the shadow of death, Avere upon the 
 inhabitants of Mansoul. 6 And now, 0 how glad 
 Avould Mansoul have been to have enjoyed quiet¬ 
 ness and satisfaction of mind, though joined Avith 
 the meanest condition in the world ! 7 
 
 The captains also, in the deep of this winter, 
 did send, by the mouth of Boanerges’s Th are gum . 
 trumpeter, a summons to Mansoul to monedagain to 
 yield up herself to the King, the great 
 King Shaddai. They said it once, and twice, and 
 thrice; not knowing but that at sometimes there 
 might be in Mansoul some Avillingness to surrender 
 up themselves unto them, might they but have 
 
 molested. 
 
 thousand of the King’s soldiers Avould 
 
 1 Tradition, Human Wisdom, and Man’s Invention have too 
 often been enlisted into the service of religion, but they are in 
 t heir element when engaged on the contrary side. Let Diabo¬ 
 lus and his Captain Anything have them, and welcome; the 
 gospel of Jesus needs no such services.—(Burder.) 
 
 2 It is curious to note the order in which open profanity 
 hides its ugly heads under the powerful alarms of conscience. 
 Outward reformation gives up very gross sins, hut change of 
 heart abhors them all.— (Ed.) 
 
 s Called ‘ Highmind and Heady,’ founded by Mr. Puff up. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 4 Under awful conA’ictions of sin, Bunyan suffered alarms in 
 
 the night.—See Grace Abounding, No. 139 .—(Ed.) 
 
 6 Six aldermen, or great vices, slainHeady and Highmind 
 dismounted, or pride laid in the dirt; conscience within and a 
 faithful ministry without, shaking Mansoul with terror upon 
 terror. How plainly is all this exhibited in Bunyan’s startling 
 experience, published iu Grace Abounding. Poor soul, mercy 
 will prevail over all thy stubbornness.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 A famine in Mansoul; the pleasures of sin fail; the pro¬ 
 digal would be glad of the meanest service in his father’s house; 
 the dreary winter of affliction succeeds the summer of gaiety; 
 the messages of mercy are renewed, bul unbelief yet prevails. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 7 ‘ Now was I both a burden and a terror to myself, weary 
 of life, afraid to die; gladly Avould I have been anything but a 
 man.’ ‘ I counted the state of a dog and toad far better than 
 mine.’— Grace Abounding, No. 104 and 149. Painful and 
 most distressing were the feelings of Bunyan, but it was ‘ the 
 bitter before the sweet, to make the sweet the sweeter.’— (Ed.) 
 
THE IIOLY WAR. 
 
 279 
 
 the colour of an invitation to Jo it under. Yea, 
 so far as I could gather, the town had been sur¬ 
 rendered up to them before now, had it not been 
 for the opposition of old Incredulity, and the fickle¬ 
 ness of'the thoughts cf my Lord Will-be-will. 
 Diabolus also began to rave, wherefore Mansoul, 
 as to yielding, was not yet all of one mind, there- 
 
 Mansoui in dis- fore, they still lay distressed under these 
 tress. perplexing fears. 1 
 
 I told you but now that they of the King’s army 
 had this winter sent three times to Mansoul, to 
 submit herself. 
 
 First. The first time the trumpeter went, he went 
 The contents of words of peace, telling of them, 
 
 mons.'^ SUIU ‘ * ^ lat ^ ie ca P ta i ns > the noble captains 
 of Shaddai, did pity and bewail the 
 misery of the now perishing town of Mansoul; and 
 was troubled to see them so much to stand in the 
 way of their own deliverance.’ He said, moreover, 
 
 ‘ That the captains bid him tell them, that if now 
 poor Mansoul would humble herself, and turn, her 
 former rebellions and most notorious treasons 
 should, by their merciful King, be forgiven them, 
 yea, and forgotten too.’ And having bid them 
 ‘ beware that they stood not in their own way, 
 that they opposed not themselves, nor made them¬ 
 selves their own losers,’ he returned again into the 
 
 camp. 
 
 Second , The second time the trumpeter went, 
 The contents of dldtreat them a little more roughly. 
 
 8 ^imons' C ° nd For after soimd of trumpet, he told 
 them, ‘ That their continuing in their 
 rebellion did but chafe and heat the spirit of the 
 captains, and that they were resolved to make a 
 conquest of Mansoul, or to lay their bones before 
 the town walls.’ 
 
 Third. He went again the third time, and dealt 
 The contents of will 1 them yet more roughly; telling 
 mons! lirdSUm * ^ iem ’ ‘That now, since they had 
 been so horribly profane, he did not 
 know not certainly know—whether the captains 
 were inclined to mercy or judgment; only,’ said 
 he, they commanded me to give you a summons 
 to open the gates unto them. ’ So he returned, 
 and went into the camp. 
 
 These three summons, and especially the two 
 
 last, did so distress the town, that they presently 
 
 called a consultation ; the result of which was this, 
 
 The tov, n souuc’s that my Lord Will-be-will should n-o 
 fur a Harley. , x , , , , G 
 
 up to Margate, and there, with sound 
 of trumpet, call to the captains of the camp for a 
 pai ley. A\ ell, the Lord \\ ill-be-will sounded upon 
 the v all, so the captains came up in their harness, 2 
 with their te n thousands at their feet. The towns- 
 
 V° lll( L Ul ‘ th j 0 ugkt of imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, 
 
 , 1 ar e effected by a thorough application of guilt, yielding to 
 deaeration.’- Grace Abounding, No. 186.-(En.) 
 
 Harness, warlike equipments, and accoutrements.— (Ed.) 
 
 men then told the captains that they had heard 
 and considered their summons, and „„ 
 w'oulcl come to an agreement with conditions of 
 them, and with their King Shaddai, H » reemeut - 
 upon such certain terms, articles, and propositions 
 as, with and by the order of their Prince, they to 
 them were appointed to propound—to wit, they 
 would agree upon these grounds to be one people 
 with them. 
 
 ‘1. If that those of their own company, as the 
 now Lord Mayor, and their Mr. For- Proposition the 
 get-good, with their brave Lord Will- tirst - 
 
 ue-vvm, inignt, unaer onaauai, be still the goveiVuio 
 of the town, castle, and gates of Mansoul. 2. Pro¬ 
 vided that no man that now servetli p roposi1 . ion the 
 under their great giant Diabolus, be second, 
 by Shaddai cast out of house, harbour, or the 
 freedom that he hath hitherto enjoyed in the fam¬ 
 ous town of Mansoul. 3. That it shall be granted 
 them, that they of the town of Mansoul p roDO sition tin* 
 shall enjoy certain of their rights and third - 
 piivileges to wit, such as have formerly Deen 
 gianted them; and that they have long lived in the 
 enjoyment of, under the reign of their king Dia¬ 
 bolus, tnat now is, and long has been, their only 
 lord and great defender. 4. That no Proposition the 
 new law, officer, or executioner of law fourth. 
 
 or office, shall have any power over them, without 
 their, own choice and consent. 
 
 ‘These be our propositions or conditions of peace; 
 
 and upon these terms,’ said they, ‘ we will submit to 
 your King.’ 3 
 
 Lut when the captains had heard this w r eak and 
 feeble offer of the town of Mansoul, and their high 
 and hold demands, they made to them again, by 
 their noble captain, the Captain Boanerges, this 
 speech following:— 
 
 0 ye inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, when 
 I heard your trumpet sound for a par- Boanerges _ u , 
 ley with us, I can truly say I was answer, 
 glad ; but when you said you were willing to sub¬ 
 mit yourselves to our King and Lord, then I was 
 yet more glad. Lut when by your silly provisoes, 
 and foolish cavils, you lay the stumbling-block of 
 }Oui iniquity before your own faces, then was my 
 gladness turned into sorrows, and my hopeful be¬ 
 ginnings of your return into languishing, fainting 
 fears. 
 
 I count that old Illpause, the ancient enemy 
 of Mansoul, did draw up those proposals that now 
 } ou piesent us with as terms of an agreement, 
 but they deserve not to he admitted to sound in 
 the ear of any man that pretends to have service 
 for Shaddai. We do, therefore, jointly, and that 
 
 Sinners, when alarmed by tbe fears of bell, are willing to 
 become religious externally, provided they may retain their 
 lordly lusts : they are ready to assume the form of godliness, 
 but dislike its power.—(Burder.) 
 
280 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 with the highest disdain, refuse and reject such 
 things as the greatest of iniquities . 1 2 Ti. ii. 19. 
 
 ‘But, 0 Mansoul! If you will give yourselves into 
 our hands, or rather into the hands of our King ; 
 and will trust him to make such terms with, and 
 for you, as shall seem good in his eyes—and I dare 
 say they shall he such as you shall find to be most 
 profitable to you—then we will receive you, and be 
 at peace with you. But if you like not to trust 
 yourselves in the arms of Shaddai our King, then 
 things are but where they were before, and we 
 know also what we have to do.’ 
 
 Then cried out old Incredulity, the Lord Mayor, 
 
 Old Incredu- an( ^ sa ^> * And w ^°> keillg Out of the 
 lity’s reply. hands of tlieir enemies, as you see we 
 
 are now, will be so foolish as to put the staff out 
 of their own hands, into the hand of they know not 
 who ? I, for my part, will never yield to so unlimited 
 a proposition. Do we know the manner and tem¬ 
 per of their King ? It is said by some, that he 
 will be angry with his subjects if but the breadth 
 TT ... , of a hair they chance to step out of 
 
 Unbelief never y x 
 
 is profitable in the way ; and of others, that he re¬ 
 ways ^Speaks quireth of them much more than they 
 mischievously. can p er f orm> Wherefore it seems, 0 
 
 Mansoul, to be thy wisdom, to take good heed what 
 thou dost in this matter; for if you once yield, you 
 give up yourselves to another, and so you are no 
 more your own ! Wherefore to give up yourselves 
 to an unlimited power, is the greatest folly in the 
 world. For now you indeed may repent; but can 
 never justly complain. But do you indeed know, 
 when you are his, which of you he will kill, and 
 which of you he will save alive; or whether he 
 will not cut off every one of us, and send out of his 
 own country, another new people, and cause them 
 to inhabit this town ?’ 2 
 
 This ^speech of the Lord Mayor undid all, and 
 This speech un- threw flat to the ground their hopes of 
 did piease^the an accord. Wherefore the captains 
 devil. returned to their trenches, to their 
 
 tents, and to their men, as they were; and the 
 Mayor to the castle, and to his king. 
 
 Now Diabolus had waited for liis return, for he 
 had heard that they had been at their points. So 
 when he was come into the chamber of state, 
 Diabolus saluted him with ‘Welcome, my lord, how 
 went matters betwixt you to day V So the Lord 
 Incredulity, with a low conge, 3 told him the whole 
 of the matter, saying, Thus and thus said the 
 
 1 la the uproar which soon after followed, upon Lord Under¬ 
 standing’s speech, we find a plain declaration of the third of 
 these terms of peace; it was, that Mansoul should still live 
 in all lewdness and vanity. This occasioned Boanerges, with 
 the highest disdain, to give his decided refusal, referring to 
 
 2 Ti. ii. 19.—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Unbelief ever suggests hard thoughts of God, and repre¬ 
 sents his service as an intolerable burden. This is hateful to 
 God, but pleaseth the devil.—(Burder.) 
 
 Captains of Shaddai, and thus and thus said I. 
 The which when it was told to Diabolus, he was 
 very glad to hear it, and said, ‘ My Lord Mayor, 
 my faithful Incredulity, I have proved thy fidelity 
 above ten times already, but never yet found thee 
 false. I do promise thee, if we rub over this brunt, 
 to prefer thee to a place of honour, a place far 
 better than to be Lord Mayor of Mansoul. I will 
 make thee my Universal Deputy, and thou shalt, 
 next to me, have all nations under thy hand; yea, 
 and thou shalt lay bands upon them that they may 
 not resist thee, nor shall any of our vassals walk 
 more at liberty, but those that shall be content to 
 walk in thy fetters. * 
 
 Now came the Lord Mayor out from Diabolus, 
 as if he had obtained a favour indeed; wherefore 
 to his habitation he goes in great state, and thinks 
 to feed himself well enough with hopes, until the 
 time came that his greatness should be enlarged. 
 
 But now, though the Lord Mayor and Diabolus 
 did thus well agree, yet this repulse to the brave 
 captains put Mansoul into a mutiny. For while 
 old Incredulity went into the castle to congratulate 
 his lord with what had passed, the old Lord Mayor 
 that was so before Diabolus came to the town, to 
 wit, my Lord Understanding, and 
 the old Kecorder Mr. Conscience, get¬ 
 ting intelligence of what had passed at 
 Eargate, for you must know that they 
 might not be suffered to be at that 
 debate, lest they should then have 
 mutinied for the captains. But, I say, they got 
 intelligence what had passed there, and were much 
 concerned therewith, wherefore, they, getting some 
 of the town together, began to possess them with 
 the reasonableness of the noble captains’ demands, 
 and with the bad consequences that would follow 
 upon the speech of old Incredulity, the Lord Mayor 
 —to wit, how little reverence he showed therein, 
 either to the captains, or to their King; also, how 
 he implicitly charged them with unfaithfulness, and 
 treachery: for what less, quoth he, could be made 
 of his words, when he said he would not yield to 
 their proposition, and added, moreover, a supposi¬ 
 tion that he would destroy us when before he 
 had sent us word that he would show us mercy. 1 
 The multitude being now possessed with the con¬ 
 viction of the evil that old Incredulity had done, 
 began to run together by companies in ^ mutiny in 
 all places, and in every corner of the 
 
 The under¬ 
 standing and 
 conscience be¬ 
 gin to receive 
 conviction; and 
 they set the 
 soul in a 
 hubbub. 
 
 Mansoul. 
 
 3 ‘ A low conge ,’ a low flattering servile salutation or bow; 
 thus, in the Pilgrim's Progress , when Byeends meets Hold- 
 the-world and Moneylove, he made them a very low conge, 
 and they also gave him a compliment.’— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Unbelief slanders the gospel, as though it proclaimed nothing 
 but wrath, whereas, while it denounces destruction to the ob¬ 
 stinately rebellious, it proclaims free, sovereign, boundless 
 mercy and everlasting love, through Jesus Christ, to sensible 
 returning sinners.— (Mason.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 231 
 
 streets of Mansoul; and first they began to mutter, 
 then to talk openly, and after that they run to and 
 fro, and cried as they run, ‘ 0 the brave captains 
 of Shaddai! Would we were under the government 
 of the captains, and of Shaddai their King.’ 1 
 When the Lord Mayor had intelligence that Man- 
 soul was in an uproar, down he comes to appease 
 the people, and thought to have quashed their heat 
 with the bigness and the show of his countenance. 
 But when they saw him, they came running upon 
 him, and had doubtless done him a mischief, had 
 he not betaken himself to house. However, they 
 strongly assaulted the house where he was, to have 
 pulled it down about his ears; but the place was 
 too strong, so they failed of that. So he taking 
 some courage addressed himself, out at a window, 
 to the people in this manner: — 
 
 ‘ Gentlemen, what is the reason that there is 
 here such an uproar to day ? ’ 
 
 Und. Then answered my Lord Understanding : 
 
 Incredulity seeks ‘ h is even because that thou and thy 
 toqiiieuhc^.-master have carried it not rightly, and 
 
 Understanding as you should, to the captains of 
 ansucis bim. Sh a dd a .i; for in three things you are 
 
 faulty:—First, In that you would not let Mr.Con¬ 
 science and myself be at the hearing of your dis¬ 
 course. Secondly, In that you propounded such 
 terms of peace, to the captains, that by no means 
 could be granted, unless they had intended that 
 their Shaddai should have been only a titular 
 prince, and that Mansoul should still have had 
 power by law, to have lived in all lewdness and 
 vanity before him, and so by consequence Diabolus 
 should still here be king in power, and the other 
 only King in name. Thirdly, For that thou didst 
 thyself, after the captains had showed us upon what 
 conditions they would have received us to mercy, 
 
 even undo all again with thy unsavoury, and un¬ 
 seasonable, and ungodly speech.’ 
 
 Incred. When old Incredulity had heard this 
 Sin and the speech, lie cried out, ‘ Treason, trea- 
 soul at odds. son; To your arms, to your arms, 0 
 
 ye, the trusty friends of Diabolus in Mansoul.’ 2 
 
 Und. ‘ Sir, you may put upon my words what 
 meaning you please, but I am sure that the cap¬ 
 tains of such a high Lord as theirs is, deserves a 
 better treatment at your hands.’ 
 
 Inched. Then said old Incredulity, ‘ This is but 
 They chide on little better. But Sir,’ quoth he, ‘ what 
 loth sides. j S p a Le, I spake for my prince, for his 
 
 government, and the quieting of the people, whom 
 
 by your unlawful actions you have this day set to 
 mutiny against us.’ 
 
 Cons. Then replied the old Recorder, whoso 
 name was Mr. Conscience, and said, ‘ Sir, you 
 ought not thus to retort upon what my Lord Un¬ 
 derstanding hath said. It is evident enough that 
 he hath spoken the truth, and that you are an 
 enemy to Mansoul; be convinced, then, of the evil 
 of your saucy and malapert language, and of the 
 grief that you have put the captains to; yea, and 
 of the damages that you have done to Mansoul 
 thereby. Had you accepted of the conditions, the 
 sound of the trumpet and the alarm of war had 
 now ceased about the town of Mansoul; but that 
 dreadful sound abides, and your want of wisdom 
 in your speech has been the cause of it.’ 
 
 Incred. Then said old Incredulity: ‘ Sir, If I 
 live I will do your errand to Diabolus, and there 
 you shall have an answer to your words. Mean¬ 
 while we will seek the good of the town, and not 
 ask council of you.’ 
 
 Und. ‘ Sir, your prince and you are both foreign¬ 
 ers to Mansoul, and not the natives thereof. And 
 who can tell but that when you have brought us 
 into greater straits, when you also shall see that 
 yourselves can be safe by no other means than by 
 flight, you may leave us and shift for yourselves, 
 or set us on fire, and go away in the smoke, or by 
 the light of our burning, and so leave us in our 
 ruins.’ 
 
 Incred. ‘ Sir, you forget that you are under a 
 governor, and that you ought to demean yourself 
 like a subject, 3 and know ye, when my Lord the 
 King shq.ll hear of this day’s work, he will give 
 you but little thanks for your labour.’ 
 
 Now while these gentlemen were thus in their 
 chiding words, down come, from the Avails and 
 gates of the toAvn, the Lord Will-be- Men of arms 
 Avill, Mr. Prejudice, Old Ulpause, and comedown, 
 several of the new-made aldermen and bifrgesses, 
 and they asked the reason of the hubbub and 
 tumult. And Avith that every man began to tell 
 his OAvn tale, so that nothing could be heard dis¬ 
 tinctly. Then was a silence commanded, and the 
 old fox Incredulity began to speak. ‘My Lord,’ 
 quoth he, ‘ here are a couple of peevish gentle¬ 
 men, that have, as a fruit of their bad disposi¬ 
 tions, and, as I fear, through the advice of one Mr. 
 Discontent, tumultuously gathered this company 
 against me this day; and also attempted to run 
 the toAvn into acts of rebellion against our prince.’ 
 
 1 See Grace Abounding , No. 46. * I was never out of the 
 
 Bible, either by reading or meditation, still crying out to God, 
 that I might know the truth, and way to heaven and glory.’— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 2 This is a blessed mutiny; unbelief is opposed and the 
 hope of pardoning mercy cherished, then as the margin says, 
 ‘ Sin and the soul are at odds.’—(Burder.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 3 This is the true language of antichrist to this day; when 
 governors or laws infringe upon the rights of conscience in 
 matters of the soul’s health, and salvation; it is the Christian’s 
 duty to resist such wicked statutes. The answer is, ‘ It is the 
 law, and whether right or wrong, if it even lead your souls to 
 perdition, you must obey; “ demean yourself like a subject .” ’ 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 3t> 
 
282 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Then stood up all the Diabolonians that were 
 A great confu- present, and affirmed these thing’s to 
 slon - be true. 
 
 Now when they that took part with iny Lord 
 Understanding, and with Mr. Conscience, perceived 
 that they were like to come to the worst, for that 
 force and power was on the other side, they came 
 in for their help and relief. So a great company 
 was on both sides. 1 Then they on Incredulity’s 
 side would have had the two old gentlemen pre¬ 
 sently away to prison; but they on the other side 
 said they should not. Then they began to cry up 
 parties again; the Diabolonians cried up old In¬ 
 credulity, Forget-good, the new aldermen, and 
 their great one Diabolus; and the other party, 
 they as fast cried up Shaddai, the captains, his 
 laws, their mercifulness, and applauded their con¬ 
 ditions and ways. Thus the bickerment went a 
 They fall from while, at last they passed from words 
 words to blows. ^ ki ows> an( j now there were knocks 
 
 on both sides. The good old gentleman, Mr. Con¬ 
 science, was knocked down twice by one of the 
 Diabolonians, whose name was Mr. Benummino*. 
 And my Lord Understanding had like to have 
 been slain with a harquebus, but that he that 
 shot wanted to take his aim aright. Nor did the 
 other side wholly escape, for there was one Mr. 
 Rashhead, a Diabolonian, that had his brains 
 beaten out by Mr. Mind, the Lord Will-be-will’s 
 servant; and it made me laugh to see how old 
 Mr. Prejudice was kicked and tumbled about in 
 
 the dirt. For though a while since 
 
 A hot skirmish. . 1 . ° 
 
 lie was made captain of a company of 
 the Diabolonians, to the hurt and damage of the 
 town; yet now they had got him under their feet; 
 and I will assure you he had by some of the Lord 
 Understanding’s party his crown soundly cracked 
 to boot. Mr. Anything also, he became a brisk 
 man in the broil, but both sides were against him, 
 because he was true to none. Yet he had for his 
 malapertness one of his legs broken, and he that 
 did it wished it had been his neck. Much harm 
 
 Harm done on more was done on both sides, but this 
 botn sides. must not k e f or g 0 tt e n, it was now a 
 
 wonder to see my Lord Will-be-will so indifferent 
 as he was; he did not seem to take one side more 
 than another, only it was perceived that he smiled 
 to see how old Prejudice was tumbled up and down 
 in the dirt. Also when Captain Anything came 
 halting up before him, he seemed to take but little 
 notice of him. 2 
 
 1 See this solemn inward struggle faithfully narrated in 
 Grace Abounding, No. 86. 
 
 2 No small advantage is gained when sinful rashness is de¬ 
 stroyed, 'prejudice thrown down into the dirt, and indifference 
 
 about religion is discarded; while the will, that before was 
 vvholly on the part of Satan, begins rather to take the other 
 side.—(Burder.) 
 
 ilie efforts of an enlightened understanding and a renewed 
 
 [Chapter VI.] 
 
 [Contents : —Lord Understanding and Mr. Conscience impri¬ 
 soned as authors of the disturbance—A conference of the 
 besieging officers, who agree to petition Shaddai for further 
 assistance—The petition approved at court—Emmanuel, 
 the King’s son, is appointed to conquer the town— 
 Marches with a great army and surrounds Mansoul, 
 which is strongly fortified against him.] 
 
 Now when the uproar -was over, Diabolus sends 
 
 for my Lord Understanding, and Mr. ^ two old 
 
 Conscience, and claps them both up gentlemen put 
 
 1 . in prison, as 
 
 in prison, as the ring-leaders and the authors of 
 
 managers of this most heavy riotous tllis re ' elrout * 
 rout in Mansoul. So now the town began to be 
 quiet again, and the prisoners were used hardly; 
 yea, he thought to have made them aw r ay, but 
 that the present juncture did not serve for that 
 purpose, for that war was in all their gates. 3 But 
 let us return again to our story. The captains, 
 when they were gone back from the gate, and 
 were come into the camp again, called The captains 
 a council of war, to consult what was and a consult 
 further for them to do. Now some w b at todo. 
 said, Let us go up presently and fall upon the 
 town, but the greatest part thought rather better 
 it would be to give them another summons to 
 yield; and the reason why they thought this to be 
 best was, because, that so far as could be per¬ 
 ceived, the town of Mansoul now was more inclin¬ 
 able than heretofore. And if, said they, while 
 some of them are in a way of inclination, we should 
 by ruggedness give them distaste, we may set them 
 further from closing with our summons, than we 
 would be willing they should. 4 
 
 Wherefore to this advice they agreed, and called 
 a trumpeter, put words into his mouth, 
 set him his time, and bid him God \hey ^end an- 
 speed. Well, many hours were not ex- Summon 
 pired before the trumpeter addressed tlie town to 
 himself to his journey. Wherefore, yield ’ 
 coming up to the .wall of the town, he steereth his 
 course to Eargate, and there sounded, as he was 
 commanded. They, then, that were within came 
 out to see what was the matter, and the trumpeter 
 made them this speech following:— 
 
 ‘ 0 hard-hearted, and deplorable town of Man¬ 
 soul, how long wilt thou love thy sin- xiie summons 
 ful, sinful simplicity, and ye fools itself - 
 delight in your scorning? As yet despise you the 
 offers of peace, and deliverance ? As yet will ye 
 
 conscience are offensive to Satan, as threatening to subvert his 
 authority in the soul, and he would kill them if he could, but 
 where the good work of grace is begun, they cannot be de¬ 
 stroyed.—(Burder.) 
 
 4 Ministers should deal gently with awakened sinners. 
 Their great Master ‘will not break the bruised reed,’ nor 
 should they. Roughness discourages—gentleness attracts.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 233 
 
 refuse the golden offers of Shaddai, and trust to 
 the lies and falsehoods of Diabolus? Think you 
 when Shaddai should have conquered you, that 
 the remembrance of these your carriages towards 
 him, will yield you peace and comfort; or that, by 
 ruffling language, you can make him afraid as a 
 grasshopper? Doth he entreat you, for fear of 
 you? Do you think that you are stronger than 
 he? Look to the heavens, and behold, and con¬ 
 sider the stars, how high are they ? Can you stop 
 the sun from running his course, and hinder the 
 moon from giving her light ? Can you count the 
 number of the stars, or stay the bottles of heaven ? 
 Can you call for the waters of the sea. and cause 
 them to cover the face of the ground ? Can you 
 behold every one that is proud, and abase him, 
 and bind their faces in secret? 1 Yet these are 
 some of the works of our King, in whose name, 
 this day, we come up unto you, that you may be 
 brought under his authority. In his name, there¬ 
 fore, I summon you again, to yield up yourselves 
 to his captains.’ 
 
 At this summons the Mansoulians seemed to be 
 The town at a at a stand, and knew not what answer 
 sUjld - to make; wherefore Diabolus forth¬ 
 with appeared, and took upon him to do it himself, 
 and thus he begins, but turns his speech to them 
 of Mansoul:— 
 
 ‘ Gentlemen,’ quoth he, ‘and my faithful subjects, 
 Diabolus makes ^ ^ * * s true that this summoner hath 
 town; tod en! saiJ concerning the greatness of their 
 deavours to King, by his terror you will always 
 the greatness ue kept in bondage, and so be made 
 to sneak. Yea, how can you now, 
 though he is at a distance, endure to think of such 
 a mighty one ? And if not to think of him, while 
 at a distance, how can you endure to be in his 
 presence? I, your prince, am familiar with you, 
 and you may play with me as you would with 
 a grasshopper. Consider, therefore, what is for 
 your profit, and remember the immunities that I 
 have granted you. Farther, if all be true that 
 this man hath said, how comes it to pass that the 
 subjects of Shaddai are so enslaved in all places 
 where they come? None in the universe so un- 
 happy as they, none so trampled upon as they. 2 
 Consider, my Mansoul. Would thou wert as loth 
 to leave me, as I am loth to leave thee! But con¬ 
 sider, I say, the ball is yet at thy foot; liberty you 
 have, it you know how to use it; yea, a king you 
 have too, it you can tell how to love and obey him.’ 
 
 2 ^his language is from the book of Job.— (Ed.) 
 
 Ihis old slander of the father of lies was well answered by 
 the poor boy, while sweeping a chimney, who sung — 
 
 * The sorrow of the mind, 
 
 Be banish’d from this place, 
 
 Religion never was designed, 
 
 To make our pleasures less.’ 
 
 This is exemplified in Bunyan’s experience. * By the strong 
 
 Upon this speech, the town of Mansoul did again 
 harden their hearts yet more against 
 the captains of Shaddai. The thoughts sSui iS 0 M d£ 
 of his greatness did quite quash them, sp:ur ' 
 and the thoughts of his holiness sunk them in 
 despair. 3 Wherefore, after a short consultation, 
 they, of the Diabolonian party they were, sent 
 back this word by the trumpeter, ‘ That, for their 
 parts, they were resolved to stick to „ 
 their king; but never to yield to worse and 
 Shaddai.’ So it was but in vain to w ° rse * 
 give them any further summons, for they had 
 rather die upon the place than yield. And now 
 things seemed to be gone quite back, and Man¬ 
 soul to be out of reach or call; yet the captains, 
 who knew what their Lord could do, would not 
 yet be beat out of heart. They therefore send 
 them another summons, more sharp and severe 
 than the last; but the oftener they were sent to, 
 to be reconciled to Shaddai, the further off they 
 were. ‘As they called them, so they went from 
 them: yea, ‘ though they called them to the most 
 High.’ Ho. xi. 2, 7. 
 
 So they ceased that way to deal with them any 
 more, and inclined to think of an- m, 
 
 mi . ike captains 
 
 otner way. lhe captains, therefore, leave off to 
 did gather themselves together, to ESkT’thS? 
 have free conference among them- sclvest0I)raycr - 
 selves, to know what was yet to be done to gain 
 the town, and to deliver it from the tyranny of 
 Diabolus. And one said after this manner, and 
 another after that. Then stood up the right noble, 
 the Captain Conviction, and said, ‘ My brethren, 
 mine opinion is this: — 
 
 ‘ First. That we continually play our slings into 
 the town, and keep it in a continual alarm, molest¬ 
 ing of them day and night; by thus doing we shall 
 stop the growth of their rampant spirit. For a 
 lion may be tamed by continual molestations. 4 
 
 ‘ Second . This done, I advise that, in the next 
 place, we, with one consent, draw up a petition to 
 our Lord Shaddai; by which, alter we have showed 
 our King the condition of Mansoul, and of affairs 
 here, and have begged his pardon for our no better 
 success, we will earnestly implore his Majesty’s 
 help, and that he will please to send us more force 
 and power; and some gallant and well-spoken 
 commander to head them ; that so his Majesty may 
 not lose the benefit of these his good beginnings, 
 but may complete his conquest upon the town of 
 Mansoul.’ 5 
 
 and unusual assaults of the tempter was my soul like a broken 
 vessel, driven as with the wind, and tossed sometimes headlong 
 into despair .’—Grace Abounding , No. 185 .—(Ed.) 
 
 4 This is exemplified in Grace Abounding, No. 139 and 140. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 0 Paul may plant and Apollos water, but God alone can give 
 the increase. To him, therefore, they wisely apply for further 
 assistance.—(Burder.) 
 
THE ITOLY WAR. 
 
 O O i 
 #C O'T 
 
 To this speech of the noble Captain Conviction, 
 they, as one man, consented; and agreed that a 
 petition should forthwith be drawn up, and sent 
 by a lit man, away to Shaddai with speed. The 
 contents of the petition were thus:— 
 
 ‘ Most gracious and glorious King, the Lord of 
 the best world, and the builder of the town of 
 Mansoul: We have, dread Sovereign, at thy com¬ 
 mandment, put our lives in jeopardy, and at thy 
 bidding made a war upon the famous town of 
 Mansoul. When we went up against it, we did, 
 according to our commission, first offer conditions 
 of peace unto it. But they, great King, set light 
 by our counsel, and would none of our reproof. 
 Mat. xxii. 5. Pr. i. 25—30. Zee. x. 11, 12. They wei’6 for 
 shutting of their gates, and for keeping us out of 
 the town. They also mounted their guns, they 
 sallied out upon us, and have done us what damage 
 they could ; but we pursued them, with alarm upon 
 alarm, requiting of them with such retribution as 
 Avas meet, and have done some execution upon the 
 town. Diabolus, Incredulity, and Will-be-Avill are 
 the great doers against us; now Ave are in our 
 Avinter quarters, but so as that Ave do yet with an 
 high hand molest and distress the town. Once, 
 as we think, had Ave had but one substantial friend 
 in the toAvn, such as Avould but have seconded the 
 sound of our summons as they ought, the people 
 might have yielded themselves. But there Avere 
 none but enemies there, nor any to speak in behalf 
 of our Lord to the town; wherefore, though Ave 
 have done as Ave could, yet Mansoul abides in a 
 state of rebellion against thee. 1 Noav, King of 
 kings, let it please thee to pardon the unsuccess¬ 
 fulness of thy servants, avIio have been no more 
 advantageous in so desirable a Avork as the con¬ 
 quering of Mansoul is ; and send, Lord, as Ave uoav 
 desire, more forces to Mansoul, that it may be 
 subdued; and a man to head them, that the town 
 may both love and fear. We do not thus speak 
 because Ave are willing to relinquish the wars—for 
 Ave are for laying of our bones against the place— 
 but that the town of Mansoul may be Avon for thy 
 Majesty. We also pray thy Majesty for expedi¬ 
 tion in this matter, that, after their conquest, Ave 
 may be at liberty to be sent about other thy gra¬ 
 cious designs. Amen.’ 
 
 The petition thus drawn up was sent away with 
 who carried haste to the King, by the hand of that 
 this petition, good man, Mr. Love-to-mansoul. 
 
 When this petition was come ’to the palace of 
 To whom it was the King, Avho should it be delivered 
 
 delivered. to t 0 tb e Icing’s Son. So lie took 
 
 1 Bishop "Wilkins, in his Gift of Prayer, gives an awful 
 picture of man’s total depravity and departure from God by 
 the fall. * What a world of mischief,’ says he, ‘ is there in our 
 several parts ! our wills, our affections, our tongues! and eyes ! 
 
 And yet all these are but as little rivulets; the fountain, or 
 
 it and read it, and because the contents of it pleased 
 him Avell, he mended, and also in some things, 
 added to the petition himself. So after he had 
 made such amendments and additions as he thought 
 convenient, with his oivn hand, he carried it in 
 to the King; to Avhom Avhen he had The Kinfy rc 
 Avith obeisance delivered it, he put on criveSgff with 
 authority, and spake to it himself . 2 
 
 Noav the King, at the sight of the petition, Avas 
 glad; but Iioav much more think you, when it Avas 
 seconded by his Son ? It pleased him also to hear 
 that his servants that camped against Mansoul 
 Avere so hearty in the Avork, and so steadfast in 
 their resolves, and that they had already got some 
 ground upon the famous to\A r n of Mansoul. 
 
 Wherefore the King called to him Emmanuel 
 his Son, who said, Here am I, my 
 
 _ , * J The King calls 
 
 Father. Then said the King, lliou ins Son, and 
 
 knoAvest, as I do myself, the condition {^shaiTgo *t° 
 
 of the town of Mansoul, and AA r hat avg 
 
 have purposed, and Avhat thou hast soul, and he is 
 , 1 1 , . ~ ., pleased at it. 
 
 done to redeem it. Lome iioav, there¬ 
 fore, my Son, and prepare thyself for the war, for 
 thou shalt go to my camp at Mansoul. Thou 
 shalt also there prosper, and prevail, and conquer 
 the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Then said the King’s Son, Thy laAv is within 
 my heart. I delight to do tliy will. Hesolacethhim- 
 He. x. This is the day that I have thoughtsofrius 
 longed for, and the work that I have work * 
 
 Avaited for all this Avliile. Grant me, therefore, 
 Avhat force thou shalt in thy Avisdom think meet, 
 and I Avill go, and Avill deliver from Diabolus, and 
 from his poiver, thy perishing toAA r n of Mansoul. 
 My heart has been often pained within me for the 
 miserable toAvn of Mansoul; but iioav it is rejoiced, 
 but now it is glad. And Avith that he leaped over 
 the mountains for joy; saying, I have not, in my 
 heart, thought anything too dear for Mansoul; 
 the day of vengeance is in mine heart for thee, my 
 Mansoul; and glad am I that thou, my Father, 
 hast made me the Captain of their salvation, 
 lie. ii. io. And I will iioav begin to plague all those 
 that have been a plague to my toAvn of Mansoul, 
 and Avill delh r er it from their hand. 
 
 When the King’s Son had said thus to his Fa¬ 
 ther, it presently fleAv like lightning round about 
 at court; yea, it there became the only talk Avhat 
 Emmanuel was to go to do for the famous toAvn of 
 Mansoul. But you cannot think how The highest peer 
 the courtiers too Avere taken with this tcTgooD 
 
 design of the Prince. Yea, so affected this design. 
 
 o 
 
 rather the sea, that feeds them, is our coiTupted nature.’— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 2 Jesus Christ is our great advocate above. He receives, 
 aroeuds, and presents our prayers; and those petitions which 
 have the glory of God for their object, Cimnot but be acceptable 
 to him.—(Burder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 285 
 
 were they with this work, and with the justness of 
 the war, that the highest lord and greatest peer 
 of the kingdom did covet to have commissions 
 under Emmanuel, to go to help to recover again to 
 Shaddai the miserable town of Mansoul. 1 
 
 Then was it concluded that some should go and 
 carry tidings to the camp that Emmanuel was to 
 come to recover Mansoul, and that he would bring 
 along with him so mighty, so impregnable a force, 
 that he could not he resisted. But 0, how ready 
 were the high ones at court to run like lackeys to 
 carry these tidings to the camp that was at Man¬ 
 soul ! Now -when the captains perceived that the 
 King would send Emmanuel his Son, and that it 
 also delighted the Son to he sent on this errand 
 by the great Shaddai, his Father, they also, to 
 The camp shouts show how they were pleased at the 
 they j l’mar ' uie thoughts of his coming, gave a shout 
 tidings. that ma( j c Hie earth rend at the sound 
 
 thereof. Yea, the mountains did answer again hy 
 echo, and Diabolus himself did totter and shake. 
 
 For you must know, that though the town of 
 Mansoul itself was not much, if at all, concerned 
 with the project—for, alas for them, they were 
 wofully besotted, for they chiefly regarded their 
 f pleasure and their lusts—yet Diabo- 
 at the news of lus their governor was ; for he had his 
 spies continually abroad, who brought 
 him intelligence of all things, and they told him 
 what was doins: at court against him, and that 
 Emmanuel would shortly certainly come with a 
 power to invade him. Nor was there any man at 
 court, nor peer of the kingdom, that Diabolus so 
 feared as he feared this Prince. For if you re¬ 
 member, I showed you before that Diabolus had 
 felt the weight of his hand already. So that, since 
 it was lie that was to come, this made him the 
 more afraid. Well, you see how I have told you 
 that the King’s Son was engaged to come from 
 the court to save Mansoul, and that his Father 
 had made him the Captain of the forces. The 
 The Prince ad- time, therefore, of his setting forth 
 dresses himself ^eing now expired, he addressed him¬ 
 self for his march, and taketh with 
 
 for his 
 ney. 
 
 jour- 
 
 him, for his power, five noble captains and their 
 forces. 2 
 
 The first was that famous captain, the noble 
 Captain Credence. His were the red colours, and 
 Mr. Promise bore them, and for a scutcheon he 
 had the holy lamb and golden shield. And he had 
 ten thousand men at his feet. Jn. i. 29. Ep. vi. ic. 
 
 The second was that famous captain, the Cap¬ 
 tain Goodhope. His were the blue colours, his 
 standard-bearer was Mr. Expectation, and for a 
 scutcheon he had the three golden anchors. 3 And 
 he had ten thousand men at his feet. lie. vi. 19. 
 
 The third captain was that valiant captain, the 
 Captain Charity. His standard-bearer was Mr. 
 Pitiful, his were the green colours, and for his 
 scutcheon he had three naked orphans embraced 
 in the bosom. And he had ten thousand men at 
 his feet. 1 Co. xiii. 
 
 The fourth was that gallant commander, the 
 Captain Innocent. His standard-bearer was Mr. 
 Harmless, his were the white colours, and for his 
 scutcheon he had the three golden doves. lie. x. 16. 
 
 The fifth was the truly loyal and well-beloved 
 captain, the Captain Patience. His standard- 
 bearer was Mr. Suffer-long, his were the black 
 colours, and for a scutcheon he had three arrows 
 through the golden heart. lie. vi. 12. 
 
 These were Emmanuel’s captains, these their 
 standard-bearers, their colours, and their scut¬ 
 cheons, 4 * 6 and these the men under their command. 
 So, as was said, the brave Prince took his march 
 
 to go to the town of Mansoul. Cap- Faith and Patience 
 tain Credence led the van, and Cap- do the work. 
 
 tain Patience brought up the rear. So the other 
 three, with their men, made up the main body; 
 the Prince himself riding in liis chariot at the head 
 of them. 0 
 
 But when they set out for their march, 0 how 
 the trumpets sounded, their armour glittered, and 
 how the colours waved in the wind ! The Prince’s 
 armour was all of gold, and it shone 
 like the sun in the firmament. The r ' lU1 Inami 
 captains’ armour was of proof, and was in appear¬ 
 ance like the glittering stars. There were also 
 
 1 How honourable a work is it to make known the gospel! 
 Every saint is thus honoured, if by his walk and converse he 
 wins souls to Christ; all disciples are priests under the new 
 covenant; they are made ‘ Kings and priests unto God.’ The 
 angels desire to look into these things. ‘ The highest peer 
 in heaven covets to go on this design.’ How does God ho¬ 
 nour his saints! The pious mother, nurse, or servant, the 
 godly arlizan or mechanic, the humble Christian merchant 
 or nobleman ‘that turn many to righteousness, shall shine as 
 tlfe stars for ever and ever ?’ Can we wonder that some proud 
 men should vainly boast themselves as possessing a monopoly 
 of this glory ?— (Ed.) 
 
 2 The powerful influences, gifts and graces, of the Holy Spirit, 
 J’aith, Hope, Charity, Innocence, and Patience, under the im¬ 
 mediate command of Christ, lead on the new .covenant forces 
 to conquer Mansoul, after it had been convinced and alarmed 
 by the terrors of the laws.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 ‘ The three golden anchors.’ When Christiana was at 
 the house of the Interpreter, she had a golden anchor given to 
 her, for, said they, you shall have it with you, for it is of abso¬ 
 lute necessity that you may lay hold of that within the veil, and 
 stand steadfast in turbulent weather. Joeliii. 16; lie. vi. 19. 
 Here we find two golden anchors, but where is the third?— (Ed. ) 
 
 4 These standards are all scriptural: Faith in the holy Lamb 
 that w r as slain; Hope, the anchor of the soul, lie. vi. 9; 
 
 Charity and the orphan Innocent with the doves; Patience 
 and his arrows in the heart. Ps. xxxviii. 2. Bunyan had seen 
 the use of standards in the civil war.—(E d.) 
 
 6 When Jesus comes to effect the conquest of the human 
 soul, he is gloriously attended with these heavenly graces, 
 faith, hope, love, innocence, and patience. Faith leads the 
 van; patience brings up the rear; Jesus, the Captain of salva¬ 
 tion, heads the noble army. Ride prosperously, gracious Ma¬ 
 jesty, conquering and to conquer.—(Burder.) 
 
I 
 
 A 
 
 / 
 
 1 . i 
 | 
 
 In/. 
 
 ►to* 
 
 i? \tp 
 
 UlMpP 
 
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 286 
 
 TIIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 some from the court that rode reformades, 1 for 
 the love that they had to the King Shaddai, and 
 for the happy deliverance of the town of Man- 
 soul. 2 * 
 
 Emmanuel also, when he had thus set forward 
 to go to recover the town of Mansoul, took with 
 
 The Holy Bible, ^ m > at the commandment of his Fa- 
 —g 66 ther, forty-four battering rams, and 
 twelve slings, to whirl stones withal. 
 Every one of these was made of pure gold; and 
 these they carried with them in the heart and body 
 of their army, all along as they went to Mansoul. 
 
 So they marched till they came within less than 
 a league of the town. And there they lay till the 
 first four captains came thither, to acquaint him 
 with matters. Then they took their journey to go 
 to the town of Mansoul, and unto Mansoul they 
 came. But when the old soldiers that were in the 
 
 The force? cam P saw fh a f they had new forces to 
 joined with join with, they again gave such a shout 
 before the walls of the town of Mansoul, 
 that it put Diabolus into another fright. So they 
 sat down before the town, not now as the other 
 four captains did, to wit, against the gates of Man- 
 
 Mansoui be- sou * only» but they environed it round 
 leasmered on every side, and beset it behind and 
 
 round. in i . 
 
 before; so that now, let Mansoul look 
 which way it will, it saw force and power lie in 
 siege against it. Besides, there were mounts cast 
 up against it. 
 
 The Mount Gracious was on the one side, and 
 Mounts cast up Mount Justice was on the other; fur- 
 
 a b ainst it. ther, there were several small banks 
 and advance-ground—as Plaintruth Hill, and No- 
 sin Banks—where many of the slings were placed 
 against the town. Upon Mount Gracious were 
 planted four, and upon Mount Justice were planted 
 as many; and the rest were conveniently placed 
 in several parts round about the town. Five of 
 the best battering rams—that is, of the biggest 
 of them—were placed upon Mount Hearken; a 
 mount cast up hard by Eargate, with intent to 
 break that open. 4 * * * 8 ' 
 
 Now, when the men of the town saw the mul¬ 
 titude of the soldiers that were come up against 
 the place, and the rams and slings, and the mounts 
 on which they were planted, together with the 
 glittering of the armour and the waving of their 
 
 1 ‘Reformades,’ angel volunteer officers, not attached to 
 
 any troop or company.— (Ed.) 
 
 J No sigh, no murmur, his elect shall hear, 
 
 From ev’ry face he'll wipe off ev’ry tear; 
 
 In adamantine chains shall death be bound, 
 
 And hell’s grim tyrant feel th’ eternal w r ound. 
 
 ( Messiah.) 
 
 8 Fie text states forty-four battering-rams and twelve slings, 
 which the margin interprets to mean the sixty-six books of the 
 Holy Bible. It w r ould be a task for Aquinusto discover which 
 ai e rams and which the slings. The whole of this paragraph 
 is omitted in the second edition, 1684, but is re-inserted in 
 
 colours, they were forced to shift and shift, and 
 again to shift their thoughts, but they hardlv 
 changed for thoughts more stout, but The h of 
 rather for thoughts more faint. For Mansoul begins 
 though before they thought themselves ° d 
 sufficiently guarded, yet now they began to think 
 that no man knew what would be their hap or lot. 
 
 When the good Prince Emmanuel had thus 
 beleaguered Mansoul; in the first place he hangs 
 out the white flag, which he caused to The white flag 
 be set up among the golden slings that hung out - 
 
 were planted upon Mount Gracious. And this he 
 did for two reasons: 1. To give notice to Mansoul 
 that he could and would yet be gracious if they 
 turned to him. 2. And that he might leave them 
 the more without excuse, should he destroy them, 
 they continuing in their rebellion. 
 
 So the white flag, with the three golden doves 
 on it, was hanged out for two days together, to 
 give them time and space to consider. But they, 
 as was hinted before, as if they were unconcerned, 
 made no reply to the favourable signal of the 
 Prince. Then he commanded, and The red flag 
 they set the red flag upon that mount llung out- 
 called Mount Justice. It was the red flag of Cap¬ 
 tain Judgment, whose scutcheon was the burning 
 fiery furnace, and this also stood waving before 
 them in the wind for several days together. But 
 look how they carried it under the white flag when 
 that was hanged out, so did they also when the 
 red one was, and yet he took no advantage of 
 them. 
 
 Then he commanded again that his servants 
 would hang out the black flag of defi- The black flag 
 ance against them, whose scutcheon hung out. 
 was the three burning thunder-bolts. But as un¬ 
 concerned was Mansoul at this as at those that 
 went before. But when the Prince saw that neither 
 mercy, nor judgment, nor execution of judgment, 
 would or could come near the heart of Mansoul, 
 he was touched with much compunction, and said, 
 ‘ Surely this strange carriage of the town of Man¬ 
 soul doth rather arise from ignorance of the manner 
 
 Christ makes 
 not war as the 
 world does. 
 
 and feats of war, than from a secret 
 defiance of us, and abhorrence of their 
 own lives; or, if they know the manner 
 of the war of their own, yet not the rites and cere¬ 
 monies of the wars in which we are concerned, 
 when I make wars upon mine enemy Diabolus.’ 
 
 later copies. In one printed at Edinburgh, 1742, the text is 
 altered to ‘ fifty-four battering-rams,’ and this emendation is 
 contained in all the modern editions. Perhaps the error was 
 
 A. 
 
 in the printer mistaking Mr. Bunyan’s figures, 22 for 12. This 
 would make the 39 books of the Old Testament, with the 
 Gospels and Acts, the 44 battering-rams, and the 22 Epistles 
 and Revelations the slings. M ighty weapons for pulling down 
 the strong holds of the devil.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 The Lord, the eternal Spirit, must first give the hearing 
 ear, and the understanding heart, ere any saving work can be 
 begun.—(Mason.) 
 
THE HOLY WAT?. 
 
 287 
 
 Therefore, he sent to the town of Mansoul, to let 
 them know what he meant by those signs and 
 lie sends to ceremonies of the flag, and also to 
 
 wouldhave know °f them which of the things 
 mercyorjustice. they WO uld choose, whether grace and 
 
 mercy, or judgment and the execution of judg¬ 
 ment. All this while they kept their gates shut 
 with locks, holts, and bars, as fast as they could; 
 their guards, also, were doubled, and their watch 
 made as strong as they could. Diabolus also did 
 pluck up what heart he could to encourage the town 
 to make resistance. 
 
 The townsmen also made answer to the Prince’s 
 messenger, in substance, according to that which 
 follows : — 
 
 ‘ Great Sir, as to what by your messenger you 
 The townsfolk’s have signified to us, whether we will 
 accept of your mercy or fall by your 
 justice, we are bound by the law and custom of 
 this place, and can give you no positive answer. 
 For it is against the law, government, and the 
 prerogative royal of our king, to make either 
 peace or war without him. But this we will do, 
 we will petition that our prince will come down to 
 the wall, and there give you such treatment as lie 
 shall think fit, and profitable for us.’ 
 
 When the good Prince Emmanuel heard this 
 answer, and saw the slavery and bondage of the 
 people, and how much content they were to abide 
 Emmanuel grieved ^ the chains of the tyrant Diabolus, 
 
 Mansoul/ 011 ^ ° f g rieved llim at the heart. And, 
 indeed, when at any time he perceived 
 that any were contented under the slavery of the 
 giant, he would be affected with it. 
 
 But to return again to our purpose. After the 
 town had carried this news to Diabolus, and had 
 told him, moreover, that the Prince that lay in the 
 leaguer 1 without the wall, waited upon them for 
 
 Diabolus afraid. an aDSWer ’ lie refused, and huffed as 
 well as he could, but in heart lie was 
 afraid. Then, said he, I will go down to the gates 
 myself, and give him such an answer as I think 
 fit. So he went down to Mouthgate, and there 
 addressed himself to speak to Emmanuel, but in 
 such language as the town understood not, the 
 contents whereof were as follows:— 
 
 , * 0 thou great Emmanuel, Lord of all the world, 
 His speech to I know thee that thou art the Son of 
 tat Prince. the g rea t Shaddai! Wherefore art 
 thou come to torment me, and to cast me out of 
 my possession ? This town of Mansoul, as thou 
 very well knowest, is mine, and that by twofold 
 right. 1. It is mine by right of conquest, I won it in 
 tiie open field. And shall the prey be taken from 
 the mighty, or the lawful captive be delivered ? 2. 
 
 1 ‘ Leaguer,’ the camp aud trenches in which a besieging 
 army are sheltered.—(E d.) 
 
 This town of Mansoul is mine also by their subjec¬ 
 tion. lliey have opened the gates of their town unto 
 me, they have sworn fidelity to me, and have openly 
 chosen me to be their king. They have also given 
 their castle into my hands; yea, they 
 have put the whole strength of Man- ITcart ' 
 soul under me. Moreover, this town of Mansoul 
 hath disavowed thee; yea, they have cast thy law, 
 thy name, thy image, and all that is thine, behind 
 their back, and have accepted, and set up in their 
 room, my law, my name, mine image, and all that 
 ever is mine. Ask else thy captains, and they will 
 tell thee that Mansoul hath, in answer to all their 
 summons, shown love and loyalty to me; but al¬ 
 ways disdain, despite, contempt, and scorn to thee 
 and thine. Now thou art the Just One, and the 
 Holy, and shouldest do no iniquity; depart then, I 
 pray thee, therefore, from me, and leave me to my 
 just inheritance, peaceably.’ 
 
 This oration was made in the language of Dia¬ 
 bolus himself. For although he can, to every man, 
 speak in their own language—else he could not 
 tempt them all as he does—yet he has a language 
 proper to himself, and it is the language of the 
 infernal cave, or black pit. 
 
 Wherefore the town of Mansoul, poor hearts, 
 understood him not, nor did they see how he 
 crouched and cringed, while he stood before Em¬ 
 manuel their prince. Yea, they all this while took 
 him to be one of that power and force that by no 
 means could be resisted. Wherefore, while he was 
 thus intreating that he might yet have his residence 
 there, and that Emmanuel would not take it from 
 him by force, the inhabitants boasted even of his 
 valour, saying, ‘Who is able to make war with him?’ 
 
 Well, when this pretended king had made an 
 end of what he would say, Emmanuel, the golden 
 Prince, stood up and spake, the contents of whose 
 
 words follow: — 
 
 « 
 
 ‘Thou deceiving one,’ said he, ‘I have in my 
 Father’s name, in mine own name, rT . 
 
 i ,, , . .. . „ ’ [Emmaimers an- 
 
 and on the behalf and for the good of swer to Diaboi- 
 
 this wretched totvn of Mansoul, some- us ] 
 
 what to say unto thee. Thou pretendest a right, a 
 
 lawful right, to the deplorable town of Mansoul, when 
 
 it is most apparent to all my Father’s court, that the 
 
 entrance which thou hast obtained in at the gates of 
 
 Mansoul was through thy lies and falsehood. Thou 
 
 beliedst my Father, thou beliedst his law, and so 
 
 deceivedst the people of Mansoul. Thou pretendest 
 
 that the people have accepted thee for their king, 
 
 their captain, and right liege-lord, but that also 
 
 was by the exercise of deceit and guile. Now, 
 
 if lying wiliness, sinful craft, and all manner of 
 
 horrible hypocrisy, will go in my Father’s court 
 
 for equity and right, in which court thou must be 
 
 tried, then will I confess unto thee that thou hast 
 
 made a lawful conquest. But alas, what thief, 
 
233 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 
 what tyrant, what devil is there that may not con¬ 
 quer after this sort? But I can make it appear, 0 
 Diabolus, that thou, in all thy pretences to a con¬ 
 quest of Mansoul, hast nothing of truth to say. 
 Thinkest thou this to be right, that thou didst put 
 the lie upon my Father, and madest him, to Man- 
 soul, the greatest deluder in the world. And what 
 sayest thou to thy perverting, knowingly, the right 
 purport and intent of the law ? Was it good also 
 that thou madest a prey of the innocency and sim¬ 
 plicity of the now miserable town of Mansoul? 
 Yea, thou didst overcome Mansoul by promising to 
 them happiness in their transgressions against my 
 Father’s law, when thou knewest, and couhlest 
 not but know, hadst thou consulted nothing but 
 thine own experience, that that was the way to 
 undo them. Thou hast also thyself—0 thou 
 master of enmity, of despite—defaced my Father’s 
 image in Mansoul, and set up thy own in its place, 
 to the great contempt of my Father, the heighten¬ 
 ing of thy sin, and to the intolerable damage of the 
 perishing town of Mansoul. Thou hast, moreover 
 —as if all these were but little things with thee— 
 not only deluded and undone this place, but, by thy 
 lies and fraudulent carriage hast set them against 
 their own deliverance. How hast thou stirred them 
 up against my Father’s captains, and made them to 
 fiodit against those that were sent of him to deliver 
 
 O o 
 
 them from their bondage! All these things and 
 very many more thou hast done against thy light, 
 and in contempt of my Father and of his law; yea, 
 and with design to bring under his displeasure for 
 ever the miserable town of Mansoul. I am there¬ 
 fore come to avenge the wrong that thou hast done 
 to my Father, and to deal with thee for the blas¬ 
 phemies wherewith thou hast made poor Mansoul 
 blaspheme his name. Yea, upon thy head, thou 
 prince of the infernal cave, will 1 require it. 
 
 ‘ As for myself, 0 Diabolus, I am come against 
 thee by lawful power, and to take, by strength of 
 hand, this town of Mansoul out of thy burning 
 fingers. For this town of Mansoul is mine, 0 
 Diabolus, and that by undoubted right, as all shall 
 see that will diligently search the most ancient 
 and most authentic records, and I will plead my 
 title to it, to the confusion of thy face. 
 
 ‘ First. For the town of Mansoul, my Father 
 built and did fashion it with his hand. The palace 
 also that is in the midst of that town, he built it 
 for his own delight. This town of Mansoul there- 
 fore is my Father’s, and that by the best of titles; 
 and lie that gainsays the truth of this must lie 
 against his soul. 
 
 * Second. 0 thou master of the lie, this town of 
 Mansoul is mine. 
 
 ‘1. For that I am my Father’s heir, liis first¬ 
 born, and the only delight of his heart. I am 
 therefore come up against thee in mine own right, 
 
 even to recover mine own inheritance out of thine 
 
 hand. He. i. 2; Jn. xvi. 15. 
 
 * 2. But further, as I have a right and title to 
 Mansoul, b} r being my Father’s heir, so I have 
 also by my Father’s donation. Ilis it was, and he 
 gave it me (jn. xvii.) •, nor have I at any time offended 
 my Father, that he should take it from me and 
 give it to thee. Nor have I been forced by play¬ 
 ing the bankrupt to sell, or set to sale to thee, my 
 beloved town of Mansoul. is. 1.1. Mansoul is my 
 desire, my delight, and the joy of my heart. But, 
 
 ‘ 3. Mansoul is mine by right of purchase. I 
 have bought it, 0 Diabolus, I have bought it to 
 myself. Now, since it was my Father’s and mine, 
 as I was his heir; and since also I have made it 
 mine by virtue of a great purchase, it followeth, 
 that by all lawful right the town of Mansoul is 
 mine, and that thou art an usurper, a tyrant, and 
 traitor, in thy holding possession thereof. Now, 
 the cause of my purchasing of it was this: Man¬ 
 soul had trespassed against my Father; now my 
 Father had said, that in the day that they broke 
 his law they should die. Now it is more possible 
 for heaven and earth to pass away, than for my 
 Father to break his word. Mat. v. is. Wherefore, 
 when Mansoul had sinned indeed by hearkening to 
 thy lie, I put in and became a surety to my Father, 
 body for body, and soul for soul, that I would 
 make amends for Mansoul’s transgressions; and my 
 Father did accept thereof. So when O sweet Prince, 
 the time appointed was come, I gave Emmanuei - 
 body for body, soul for soul, life for life, blood 
 for blood, and so redeemed my beloved Mansoul. 
 
 ‘ 4. Nor did I do this to the halves ; my Father’s 
 law and justice that were both concerned in the 
 threatening upon transgression, are both now satis¬ 
 fied, and very well content that Mansoul should be 
 delivered. 
 
 ‘ 5. Nor am I come out this day against thee 
 but by commandment of my Father; it was lie that 
 said unto me, Go down and deliver Mansoul. 
 
 ‘ Wherefore, be it known unto thee, 0 thou 
 fountain of deceit, and be it also known to the 
 foolish town of Mansoul, that I am not come 
 against thee this day without my Father. 
 
 ‘ And now,’ said the golden-headed Prince, ‘ I 
 have a word to the town of Mansoul; ’ 
 
 . , . A word from 
 
 but as soon as mention was made that Emmanuel to 
 
 he had a word to speak to the besotted Mans,jUl - 
 town of Mansoul, the gates were double guarded, 
 and all men commanded not to give him audience, 
 so he proceeded, and said, ‘ 0 unhappy town of 
 Mansoul, I cannot but be touched with pity and 
 compassion for thee. Thou hast accepted of Dia¬ 
 bolus for thy king, and art become a nurse and 
 minister of Diabolonians against thy Sovereign 
 Lord. Thy gates thou hast opened to him, but 
 hast shut them fast against me; thou hast given 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 239 
 
 him a hearing, hut hast stopped thine ears at my 
 cry; he brought to thee thy destruction, and thou 
 didst receive both him and it: I am come to thee 
 bringing salvation, but thou regardest me not. 
 Besides, thou hast, as with sacrilegious hands, 
 taken thyself with all that was mine in thee, and 
 hast given all to my foe, and to the greatest enemy 
 my Father has. You have bowed and subjected 
 yourselves to him; you have vowed and sworn 
 yourselves to be his. Poor Mansoul! what shall 
 1 do unto thee? Shall I save thee? shall I de¬ 
 stroy thee? What shall I do unto thee? shall I 
 fall upon thee and grind thee to powder, or make 
 thee a monument of the richest grace? What 
 shall I do unto thee? Hearken, therefore, thou 
 town of Mansoul, hearken to my word, and thou 
 shalt live. I am merciful, Mansoul, and thou 
 shalt find me so; shut me not out of thy gates. 
 
 Ca. v. 2. 
 
 ‘ 0 Mansoul, neither is my commission, nor in¬ 
 clination, at all to do thee any hurt; why fliest 
 thou so fast from thy friend, and stickest so close 
 to thine enemy? Indeed, I would have thee, be¬ 
 cause it becomes thee, to be sorry for thy sin ; but 
 do not despair of life, this great force is not to 
 hurt thee, but to deliver thee from thy bondage, 
 and to reduce thee to thy obedience. Lu. ix. 56. Jn. xii. 47 . 
 
 ‘ My commission, indeed, is to make a Avar upon 
 Diabolus thy king, and upon all Diabolonians with 
 him; for he is the strong man armed that keeps 
 the house, and I will ha\ T e him out; his spoils I 
 must divide, 1 his armour I must take from him, 
 his hold I must cast him out of, and must make 
 it an habitation for myself. And this, 0 Mansoul, 
 shall Diabolus know, Avhen he shall be made to 
 follow me in chains, and Avhen Mansoul shall re¬ 
 joice to see it so. 
 
 ‘ I could, would I noAv put forth my might, cause 
 that forthwith he should leave you and depart; 
 but I have it in my heart so to deal Avith him, as 
 that the justice of the Avar that I shall make upon 
 him may be seen and acknowledged by all. He 
 hath taken Mansoul by fraud, and keeps it by 
 violence and deceit; and I will make him bare and 
 naked in the eyes of all observers. All my Avords 
 are true, I am mighty to save, and will deliver my 
 Mansoul out of his hand.’ 2 
 
 This speech Avas intended chiefly for Mansoul, 
 but Mansoul Avould not have the hearing of it. 
 
 1 This reference to Is. liii. 12 must not be misunderstood 
 by our youthful readers. It does not mean that Emmanuel 
 would divide the spoil wuth Diabolus, but that he would take 
 it all from him, and divide it at his (Emmanuel’s) pleasure.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 Here Emmanuel discovers the true character of Satan—a 
 liar, a deceiver, a blasphemer, an usurper, the malicious euemy 
 ot God and man. Emmanuel claims the human soul as his 
 own, his workmanship, his delight, his inheritance, his pur¬ 
 chase. How well does this gracious address deserve the most 
 cordial acceptation!—(Burder.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 They shut up Eargate, they barricaded it up, 
 they kept it locked and bolted ; they set a guard 
 thereat, and commanded that no Mansoulonian 
 should go out to him, nor that any from the camp 
 should be admitted into the tOAvn; all this they 
 did, so horribly had Diabolus enchanted them to 
 do, and seek to do for him, against their rightful 
 Lord and Prince ; Avherefore no man, nor voice, nor 
 sound of man that belonged to the glorious host, 
 Avas to come into the tOAvn. 3 
 
 [Chapter VII.] 
 
 [Contents: —Emmanuel prepares to make war upon Mansoul 
 —Diabolus sends Mr. Loth-to-stoop Avith proposals for 
 peace—These proposals being dishonourable to Emmannel, 
 are all rejected—Again Diabolus proposes to patch up a 
 peace by reformation, offering to become Emmanuel’s 
 deputy in that business—This proposal also rejected— 
 New preparations made for battle—Diabolus, expecting 
 to be obliged to abandon the town, does much mischiet 
 —Eargate, violently assaulted by the battering-rams, at 
 length gives way, and is broken to pieces—Emmanuel’s 
 forces enter the town, and take possession of the Recorder’s 
 house—Several mischievous Diabolonians are killed.] 
 
 So Avhen Emmanuel saw that Mansoul was thus 
 involved in sin, he calls his army to- Emmanuel pre- 
 gether, since now also his words tvere P ares 10 l v 11 , ake 
 
 0 7 vvarupon Alan- 
 
 despised, and gave out a command- soul, 
 ment throughout all his host to be ready against 
 the time appointed. Noav, forasmuch as there Avas 
 no Avay laAvfully to take the town of Mansoul, but 
 to get in by the gates, and at Eargate as the 
 chief, therefore he commanded his captains and 
 commanders to bring their rams, their slings, and 
 their men, and place them at Eyegate and Ear- 
 gate, in order to his taking the town. 
 
 When Emmanuel had put all things in readiness 
 to give Diabolus battle, he sent again to knoAV of 
 the town of Mansoul if in peaceable manner they 
 Avould yield themselves, or Avhetlier they Avere yet 
 resolved to put him to try the utmost extremity. 
 Then they together, Avith Diabolus , , 
 
 •/ o 9 nicibolus 
 
 their king, called a council of Avar, by the hand 
 
 and resolved upon certain propositions Mr. Loth-u> 
 
 that should be offered to Emmanuel, Mm P ’h^ d pn> 
 
 if he will accept thereof, so they agreed ; pounds condi- 
 . . . A liii! ti°ns ol peace. 4 * * * 
 
 and then the next Avas who should be 
 sent on this errand. Now there Avas in the tOAvn 
 of Mansoul an old man, a Diabolonian, and his 
 name Avas Mr. Loth-to-stoop, a stiff man in his 
 Avay, and a great doer for Diabolus; him there- 
 
 3 Infatuated sinners! rejecting the counsel of God against 
 themselves. Reader, is this thy case ? Pause and examine. 
 Remember ‘ faith cometh by hearing.’ Hear, then, and your 
 soul shall live.—(Burder.) 
 
 4 These terms may be found in Grace Abounding, No. 16. 
 
 ‘Desires to reform my vicious life; to go to church twice 
 
 a day, and say and sing with the foremost; yet retaining my 
 
 vicious life.’—(E d.) 
 
 37 
 
290 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 fore they sent, and put into his mouth what he 
 should say. So he went, and came to the camp to 
 Emmanuel; and when he was come, a time was 
 appointed to give him audience. So at the time 
 he came, and after a Diabolonian ceremony or two, 
 he thus began, and said, ‘ Great Sir, that it may 
 be known unto all men how good-natured a prince 
 my master is, he hath sent me to tell your Lord- 
 ship that he is very willing, rather than to go to 
 2 war, to deliver up into your hands 
 one-lialf of the town of Mansoul. Tit. 
 i. 16 . I am therefore to know if your Mightiness 
 will accept of this proposition.’ 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, ‘The whole is mine by gift 
 and purchase, wherefore I will never lose one-half. ’ 
 
 Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, ‘ Sir, my master 
 hath said, that he will be content that 
 you shall be the nominal and titular 
 Lord of all, if he may possess hut a part.’ Lu. xiii. 25. 
 
 Then Emmanuel answered, ‘ The whole is mine 
 really; not in name and word only: wherefore I 
 will be the sole Lord and possessor of all, or of 
 none at all of Mansoul. ’ 
 
 Then Mr. Loth-to-stoop said again, ‘ Sir, be¬ 
 hold the condescension of my master! 
 He says that he will he content, if he 
 may hut have assigned to him some place in Man¬ 
 soul as a place to live privately in, and you shall 
 be Lord of all the rest. ’ Ac. v. 1-5. 
 
 Then said the golden Prince, * All that the 
 Father giveth me, shall come to me; and of all 
 that he hath given me I will lose nothing, no, not 
 a hoof, nor a hair. I will not therefore grant him, 
 no, not the least corner in Mansoul to dwell in, I 
 will have all to myself.’ 
 
 Then Loth-to-stoop said again, ‘ But, Sir, sup¬ 
 pose that my lord should resign the 
 whole town to you, only with this pro¬ 
 viso, that he sometimes, when he comes into this 
 country, may, for old acquaintance sake, he enter¬ 
 tained as a way-faring man for two days, or ten 
 days, or a month, or so; may not this small matter 
 be granted? ’ 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, ‘No: he came as a way¬ 
 faring man to David, nor did he stay long with 
 him, and yet it had like to have cost David his 
 soul. 2 Sa. xii. i-5. I will not consent that he ever 
 should have any harbour more there.’ 
 
 Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, ‘ Sir, you seem to 
 be very hard. Suppose my master should yield to 
 all that your Lordship hath said, provided that his 
 Sins and carnal friends and kindred in Mansoul may 
 liiste. have liberty to trade in the town, and 
 
 1 Mark this. A cold, lifeless profession, without possessing 
 Christ, the hope of glory, is not Christianity; an almost 
 Christian is a very infidel. We cannot serve two masters, God 
 and Mammon. Jesus is worthy of all our love and service; 
 in him are treasured up every needful blessing for time and 
 eternity.—(Mason.) 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 Mark this. 
 
 to enjoy their present dwellings; may not that be 
 granted, Sir ? ’ 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, ‘ No: that is contrary to 
 my Father’s will; for all, and all manner of Dia- 
 bolonians that now are, or that at any time shall 
 be found in Mansoul, shall not only lose their 
 lands and liberties, but also their lives. ’ Ro. vi. 13 . 
 Ga. v. 24 . Col. iii. 5 . 
 
 Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop again, ‘ But, Sir, 
 may not my master, and great lord, 
 by letters, by passengers, by accidental 
 opportunities, and the like, maintain, if he shall 
 deliver up all unto thee, some kind of old friend¬ 
 ship with Mansoul.* Jn. x. 8. 
 
 Emmanuel answered, ‘No, by no means ; foras¬ 
 much as any such fellowship, friendship, intimacy, 
 or acquaintance in what way, sort or mode soever 
 maintained, will tend to the corrupting of Mansoul, 
 the alienating of their affections from me, and the 
 endangering of their peace with my Father.’ 
 
 Mr. Loth-to-stoop yet added further ; saying, 
 
 ‘ But, great Sir, since my master hath 
 many friends, and those that are dear 
 to him in Mansoul, may he not, if he shall depart 
 from them, even of his bounty and good nature, 
 bestow upon them, as he sees fit, some tokens of 
 his love and kindness, that he had for them, to 
 the end that Mansoul, when he is gone, may look 
 upon such tokens of kindness once received from 
 their old friend, and remember him who was once 
 their King, and the merry times that they some¬ 
 times enjoyed one with another, while he and they 
 lived in peace together.’ 
 
 Then said Emmanuel, ‘No; for if Mansoul come 
 to be mine, I shall not admit of, nor consent that 
 there should be the least scrap, shred, or dust of 
 Diabolus left behind, as tokens or gifts bestowed 
 upon any in Mansoul, thereby to call to remem¬ 
 brance the horrible communion that was betwixt 
 them and him.’ Ro. vi. 12,13. 
 
 ‘Well Sir,’ said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, ‘I have one 
 thing more to propound, and then I am got to the 
 end of my commission. Suppose that 
 
 v AT ar k tills 
 
 when my master is gone from Man¬ 
 soul, any that yet shall live in the town should 
 have such business of high concerns to do, that 
 if they be neglected the party shall be undone ; 
 and suppose, Sir, that nobody can help in that 
 case so well as my master and lord ; may not now 
 my master be sent for upon so urgent an occasion 
 as this ? Or if he may not be admitted into the 
 town, may not he and the person concerned meet 
 in some of the villages near Mansoul, and there 
 lay their heads together, and there consult of 
 matters ? ’ 2 2 Ki. i. 3, 6 , 7. 
 
 2 The proud heart of man is loth to stoop to that absolute 
 submission and entire obedience to Christ which he justly re¬ 
 quires. They will allow r him to he a lord in name, but not in 
 
THE HOLY WAIL 
 
 291 
 
 This was the last of those ensnaring propositions 
 that Mr. Loth-to-stoop had to propound to Em¬ 
 manuel on behalf of his master Diabolus ; but 
 Emmanuel would not grant it, for be said, ‘ There 
 can be no case, or thing, or matter, fall out in 
 Mansoul, when thy master shall be gone, that may 
 not be salved 1 by my Father ; besides, it will be a 
 great disparagement to my Father’s wisdom and 
 skill to admit any from Mansoul to go out to Dia¬ 
 bolus for advice, when they are bid before, in every¬ 
 thing, by prayer and supplication, to let their re¬ 
 quest be made known to my Father. 1 Sa. xxviii. 15 ; 
 s KL L 2 , 3. Further, this, should it be granted, 
 would be to grant that a door should be set open 
 for Diabolus and the Diabolonians in Mansoul, to 
 hatch, and plot, and bring to pass treasonable 
 designs, to the grief of my Father and me, and to 
 the utter destruction of Mansoul.’ 2 
 
 When Mr. Loth-to-stoop had heard this answer, 
 
 Loth-to-stoop he took his leave of Emmanuel and 
 departs. departed, saying, that he would do 
 word to his master concerning this whole affair. 
 So he departed and came to Diabolus to Mansoul, 
 and told him the whole of the matter, and how 
 Emmanuel would not admit, no, not by any means, 
 that he, when he was once gone out, should for 
 ever have anything more to do, either in, or with 
 any that are of, the town of Mansoul. When 
 Mansoul and Diabolus had heard this relation of 
 things, they with one consent concluded to use 
 their best endeavour to keep Emmanuel out of 
 Mansoul, and sent old Illpause, of whom you have 
 heard before, to tell the Prince and his captains so. 
 So the old gentleman came up to the top of Ear- 
 gate, and called to the camp for a hearing ; who, 
 
 a speech of Old when the 7 £ ave audience, he said, 
 liipause to the ‘I have in commandment from my 
 
 high Lord to bid you to tell it to your 
 Prince Emmanuel, that Mansoul and their King 
 are resolved to stand and fall together, and that 
 it is in vain for your Prince to think of ever having 
 of Mansoul in his hand, unless he can take it by 
 force.’ So some went and told to Emmanuel what 
 old Illpause, a Diabolonian in Mansoul, had said. 
 Then said the Prince, ‘I must try the power of my 
 sword, for I will not, for all the rebellions and re¬ 
 pulses that Mansoul has made against me, raise 
 my siege and depart, but will assuredly take my 
 Mansoul, and deliver it from the hand of her enemy. ’ 
 Ep. vi. 17. And with that he gave out a command¬ 
 ment that Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, 
 
 authority. They would serve Jesus in general, if permitted 
 to indulge in sin occasionally; all such partial submission is 
 rejected. To be only ‘ almost a Christian ’ is to he no Chris¬ 
 tian at all. To show the importance of this, the author re¬ 
 peatedly gives a marginal note, ‘ Mark this.’—(Burder.) 
 
 1 the word ‘salved,’ as used in Bunyau’s time, means helped, 
 remedied, saved, healed, rescued. Thus, in his Come and 
 Welcome, he says, ‘ Such questions would have been, but fools' 
 
 Captain Judgment, and Captain Execution, should 
 forthwith march up to Eargate with 
 trumpets sounding, colours flying,Tind The y raustfi s Lfc * 
 with shouting for the battle. Also he would that 
 Captain Credence should join himself preparations 
 with them. Emmanuel, moreover, gave t0 l ‘ ie battlc * 
 order that Captain Goodhope and Captain Charity 
 should draw themselves up before Eyegate. He 
 bid also that the rest of his Captains, and their 
 men, should place themselves for the best of their 
 advantage against the enemy, round about the 
 town, and all was done as he had commanded. 
 Then he bid that the word should be given forth, 
 and the word was at that time ‘Emmanuel’. Then 
 was an alarm sounded, and the battering-rams were 
 played, and the slings did whirl stones into the 
 town amain, and thus the battle began. Now 
 Diabolus himself did manage the townsmen in the 
 war, and that at every gate; wherefore their resist¬ 
 ance was the more forcible, hellish, and offensive 
 to Emmanuel. Thus was the good Prince engaged 
 and entertained by Diabolus and Mansoul for 
 several days together. And a sight worth seeing 
 it was, to behold how the captains of Shaddai be¬ 
 haved themselves in this war. 
 
 And first for Captain Boanerges, not to under¬ 
 value the rest, he made three most Boanerges plays 
 fierce assaults, one after another, upon the man - 
 Eargate, to the shaking of the posts thereof. 
 Captain Conviction, he also made up as fast with 
 Boanerges as possibly he could, and both discern¬ 
 ing that the gate began to yield, they commanded 
 that the rams should still be played against it. 
 Now Captain Conviction going up very near to 
 the gate, was with great force driven „ . 
 
 back, and received three wounds in the wounded, 
 mouth. And those that rode Befor- 
 mades, they went about to encourage 
 the captains. 
 
 For the valour of the two captains made mention 
 of before, the Prince sent for them to his pavilion, 
 and commanded that a while they should rest them¬ 
 selves, and that with somewhat they should be 
 refreshed. Care also was taken for Captain Con¬ 
 viction, that he should be healed of his wounds. 
 The Prince also gave to each of them a chain of 
 gold, and bid them yet be of good courage. Nor 
 did Captain Goodhope nor Captain Goodhope and 
 Charity come behind in this most th^nfen^t 
 desperate fight, for they so well did Eyegate. 
 behave themselves at Eyegate, that they had 
 
 babbles about , instead of a sufficient salve to, so weighty a ques¬ 
 tion.’ Now, the word solved would he used.—(E d.) 
 
 2 Reader, ‘ mark’ these proposals of Loth-to-stoop. All the 
 unconverted cherish this evil spirit; call to mind, with shame, 
 the time when you felt its influences in keeping your soul from 
 Christ; nor would you ever have overcome your pride and 
 your love of sin, hut that the Holy Spirit conquered you by 
 his love and mercy.— (Ed.) 
 
 Angels. 
 

 292 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 ' ! 
 
 
 4. 
 
 ■E 
 » 90' 
 
 ' 1 
 <«||f 
 
 SuIJJ 
 
 ■I; 
 
 almost broken it quite open. 1 These also had a 
 reward from their Prince, as also had the rest ot 
 the captains, because they did valiantly round 
 about tho town. 2 
 
 In this engagement several of the officers of 
 Diabolus were slain, and some of the townsmen 
 wounded. For the officers, there was one Captain 
 Captain Boast- Boasting slain. This Boasting thought 
 mg slain. that nobody could have shaken the 
 posts of Eargate, nor have shaken the heart of 
 Diabolus. Next to him there was one Captain 
 
 Captain secure Secure slain ; this Secure used to say 
 slain. that the blind and lame in Mansoul 
 were able to keep the gates of the town against 
 Emmanuel’s army. 2 Sa. v. 6. This Captain Secure 
 did Captain Conviction cleave down the head with 
 a two-handed sword, when he received himself 
 three wounds in his mouth. Besides these, there 
 Captain Brag- was one Captain Bragman, a very des¬ 
 man slain. ° perate fellow, and he was captain over 
 
 a band of those that threw fire-brands, arrows, and 
 death ; he also received, by the hand of Captain 
 Goodhope at Eyegate, a mortal wound in the 
 breast. 
 
 There was, moreover, one Mr. Feeling, but he 
 was no captain, but a great stickler to encourage 
 Mr. Feeling Mansoul to rebellion, he received a 
 hurt. wound in the eye by the hand of one 
 of Boanerges’ soldiers, and had by the captain 
 himself been slain, but that he made a sudden 
 retreat. 
 
 But I never saw Will-be-will so daunted in all 
 
 my life : he was not able to do as he was wont; 
 
 Will-be-will ail( l some say that he also received a 
 
 hot. wound in the leg, and that some of 
 
 the men in the Prince’s arfny have certainly seen 
 
 him limp, as he afterwards walked on the wall. 3 
 
 I shall not give you a particular account of the 
 
 names of the soldiers that were slain in the town, 
 
 for many were maimed and wounded, 
 Many of the sol- , . . „ . . ,, 
 
 diers in Man- and slam ; for when they saw that 
 
 soul slam. t ] ie p 0S t s of Eargate did shake, ant 
 
 Eyegate was well nigh broken quite open ; ant 
 
 also that their captains were slain, this took away 
 
 the hearts of many of the Diabolonians ; they fe! 
 
 also by the force of the shot that were sent by 
 
 the golden slings into the midst of the town of 
 Mansoul. 4 
 
 Of the townsmen there was one Love-no-good, 
 le was a townsman, but a Diabolonian, Love-no-good 
 ie also received his mortal wound in w °unded. 
 Mansoul, but he died not very soon. Mr. Ulpause 
 also, who was the man that came along with Dia¬ 
 bolus when at first he attempted the taking ot 
 Mansoul, he also received- a grievous uipause 
 wound in the head, some say that his 
 brain-pan was cracked ; this I have taken notice 
 of, that he was never after this able to do that 
 mischief to Mansoul as he had done in times past. 
 Also old Prejudice and Mr. Anything fled/ 
 
 Now when the battle was over, the Prince com¬ 
 manded that yet once more the white The white flag 
 flag should be set upon Mount Gra- buug oul asdUJ " 
 cious, in sight of the town of Mansoul; to show 
 that yet Emmanuel had grace for the wretched 
 town of Mansoul. 
 
 When Diabolus saw the white flag hanging out 
 again, and knowing that it was not DiaboWs new 
 for him, but Mansoul, he cast in his prallk ’ 
 mind to play another prank, to wit, to see if 
 Emmanuel would raise his siege and be gone, 
 upon promise of a reformation. 5 6 So he comes 
 down to the gate one evening, a good while after 
 the sun was gone down, and calls to speak with 
 Emmanuel, who presently came down to the gate, 
 and Diabolus saith unto him : 
 
 ‘ Forasmuch as thou makest it appear by thy 
 white flag, that thou art wholly given nis speech to 
 to peace and quiet; I thought meet ^ Iumanuel * 
 to acquaint thee that we are ready to accept 
 thereof upon terms which thou mayest admit. 
 
 ‘ I know that thou art given to devotion, and that 
 holiness pleases thee; yea, that thy great end in 
 making a war upon Mansoul is that it may be an 
 holy habitation. Well, draw off thy forces from 
 the town, and I will bend Mansoul to thy bow. 
 
 ‘ [Thus] I will lay down all acts of hostility 
 against thee, and will be willing to Diabolus WO uid 
 become thy deputy, and will, as I have 
 formerly been against thee, now serve would turn 
 thee in the town of Mansoul. And rctoimer 
 more particularly—1. I will persuade Mansoul to 
 
 1 ‘ The serpents that bit the people of old were types of guilt 
 and sin. Now these were fiery serpents, and such as, I think, 
 could fly. Is. xiv. 29. Wherefore, in my judgment, they stung 
 the people about their faces, and so swelled up their eyes, which 
 made it the more difficult for them to look up to the brazen 
 serpent, which was the type of Christ.’ Jn. iii 14.—(Bunyan 
 on Justification , vol. i. p. 320.) How fitly are Goodhope and 
 Charity qualified to gain such a post.—(Bn.) 
 
 2 It is worthy of notice, that, while warnings and convictions 
 attack the ear, hope and love are exhibited to the eye. This 
 was Bunyan’s mode of proclaiming the gospel, and it is well 
 worthy of universal imitation by preachers of all denomina¬ 
 tions.— (Ed.) 
 
 s The will may be called the feet of the soul; because by 
 
 that the soul, yea, the whole man, is carried hither and thither, 
 or else held back, and kept from moving. While my Lord 
 
 Will-be-will was so active in the service of Diabolus, he is, 
 
 very properly, ‘ wounded in the leg. (Ed.) 
 
 4 Portions of the Word, probably from the sacred epistles of 
 
 the New Testament.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 Prejudice and Anything have fled; Illpause has his brain¬ 
 pan cracked—there can be no more procrastination; Love-no- 
 good is slain—the will is wounded; the feeling is painfully 
 wounded; Bragman and carnal security are slain; Mansoul 
 trembles; and in great mercy the white flag is hung out in 
 token of grace, but the heart does not yet surrender.—(E d.) 
 
 6 This is exemplified by Bunyan’s experience, in Grace 
 Abounding, Nos. 30-36. 
 
TIIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 receive thee fur their Lord, and I know that they 
 will do it the sooner when they shall understand 
 that I am thy deputy. 2. I will show them where¬ 
 in they have erred, and that transgression stands 
 in the way to life. 3. I will show them the holy 
 law unto which they must conform, even that which 
 they have broken. 4. I will press upon them the 
 necessity of a reformation according to thy law. 
 5. And, moreover, that none of these things may 
 fail, I myself, at my own proper cost and charge, 
 will set up and maintain a sufficient ministry, be¬ 
 sides lecturers, in Mansoul. 1 6. Thou shalt receive, 
 as a token of our subjection to thee continually, 
 year by year, what thou shalt think lit to lay and 
 levy upon us, in token of our subjection to thee.’ 2 3 
 
 The Then said Emmanuel to him, ‘ 0 
 
 full of deceit, how movable are thy 
 ways ! IIow often hast thou changed and re¬ 
 changed, if so be thou mightest still keep possession 
 of my Mansoul, though, as has been plainly de¬ 
 clared before, I am the right heir thereof ? Often 
 hast thou made thy proposals already, nor is this 
 last a whit better than they. And failing to deceive 
 when thou showedst thyself in thy black, thou hast 
 now transformed thyself into an angel of light, and 
 wouldest, to deceive, be now as a minister of righ¬ 
 teousness. 2 Co. xi. 14. 
 
 ‘ But know thou, 0 Diabolus, that nothing must 
 be regarded that thou canst propound, for nothing 
 Diabolus has no is done by thee but to deceive; thou 
 God, nor love neither hast conscience to God, nor 
 to Mansoul. love town 0 f Mansoul; whence 
 
 then should these thy sayings arise, but from sinful 
 craft and deceit ? He that can of list and will 
 propound what he pleases, and that wherewith he 
 may destroy them that believe him, is to be aban¬ 
 doned with all that he shall say. But if righteous¬ 
 ness be such a beauty-spot in thine eyes now, 
 how is it that wickedness was so closely stuck to 
 by thee before. But this is by the by. Thou 
 talkest now of a reformation in Mansoul, and that 
 thou thyself, if I will pi ease, will be at the head of 
 that reformation, all the while knowing that the 
 greatest proficiency that man can make in the law, 
 and the righteousness thereof, will amount to no 
 more for the taking away of the curse from Man¬ 
 soul than just nothing at all; for a law being 
 broken by Mansoul, that had before, upon a suppo¬ 
 sition of the breach thereof, a curse pronounced 
 against him for it of God, can never, by his obey¬ 
 ing of the law, deliver himself therefrom. To say 
 nothing of what a reformation is like to be set up 
 
 1 Reader, the devil offers to set up ministers and lecturers! 
 
 Take heed what ye hear.—(E d.) 
 
 3 How common is it with sinners, under conviction and the 
 tear of hell, to he content with mending their lives; they are 
 willing to be reformed, but not to be justified and saved by 
 grace.—(Burder.) 
 
 293 
 
 in Mansoul, when the devil is become the corrector 
 of vice. Thou knowest that all that IIe know3 that 
 thou hast now said in this matter is that will do no 
 nothing but guile and deceit; and is, yet d ’ he " pro¬ 
 as it was the first, so is it the last card EeaShofMaS 
 that thou hast to play. Many there sou1, 
 be that do soon discern thee when thou showest 
 them thy cloven foot; but in thy white, thy light, 
 and in thy transformation thou art seen but of a few. 
 But thou shalt not do thus with my Mansoul, 0 
 Diabolus, for I do still love my Mansoul. 
 
 ‘ Besides, I am not come to put Mansoul upon 
 works to live thereby—should I do so, I should be 
 like unto thee—but I am come that by me, and by 
 what I have and shall do for Mansoul, they may to 
 my Father be reconciled, though by their sin they 
 have provoked him to anger, and though by the 
 law they cannot obtain mercy. 
 
 ‘ Thou talkest of subjecting of this town to good, 
 when none desireth it at thy hands. 
 
 T .. J AU things must 
 
 1 am sent by my rather to possess it new in 
 myself, and to guide it by the skilful- Mansoui - 
 ness of my hands into such a conformity to him as 
 shall be pleasing in his sight. I will therefore 
 possess it myself, I will dispossess and cast thee 
 out: I will set up mine own standard in the midst 
 of them: I will also govern them by new laws, new 
 officers, new motives, and new ways. Yea, I will 
 pull down this town, and build it again, and it shall 
 be as though it had not been, and it shall then be 
 the glory of the whole universe.’ 0 
 
 When Diabolus heard this, and perceived that 
 he was discovered in all his deceits, Diabolus con . 
 he was confounded and utterly put founded, 
 to a non-plus; but having in himself the foun¬ 
 tain of iniquity, rage and malice against both 
 Shaddai and his Son, and the beloved town of 
 Mansoul, what doth he but strengthen himself what 
 he could, to give fresh battle to the noble Prince 
 Emmanuel ? So then, now we must have another 
 fight before the town of Mansoul is taken. Como 
 up then to the mountains you that love to see mili¬ 
 tary actions, and behold by both sides how the 
 fatal blow is given: while one seeks to hold, and 
 the other seeks to make himself master of the 
 famous town of Mansoul. 
 
 Diabolus, therefore, having withdrawn himself 
 from the wall to his force that was in New prepara . 
 the heart of the town of Mansoul, tious for t0 
 Emmanuel also returned to the camp; and both of 
 them, after their divers ways, put themselves into 
 a posture fit to bid battle one to another. 
 
 3 What a volume of evangelical truth is contained in these 
 words! Old things must pass away, all must become new; 
 we must be buried with Christ in baptism, and rise again to 
 newness of life. No man is a Christian till Christ is formed 
 in him the hope of glory. We must be in Christ, complete in 
 his righteousness, then will love constrain him to good works. 
 In Christ he becomes the glory of the universe.— (Ed.) 
 
294 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 pairs of holding 
 of Mansoul, 
 and therefore 
 contrives to do 
 itwhatmischief 
 he can. 
 
 / 7 - 
 
 Diabolus, as filled with despair of retaining in 
 Diaholus des- his hands the famous town of Mansoul, 
 resolved to do what mischief he could, 
 if indeed he could do any, to the army 
 of the Prince, and to the famous town 
 of Mansoul; for, alas ! it was not the 
 happiness of the silly town of Mansoul that was 
 designed by Diabolus, but the utter ruin and over¬ 
 throw thereof ; as now is enough in view. Where¬ 
 fore he commands his officers that they should then, 
 when they see that they could hold 
 the town no longer, do it what harm 
 and mischief they could; rending and tearing of 
 men, women, and children. Mar. ix. 26, 27. Por, said 
 he, we had better quite demolish the place, and 
 leave it like a ruinous heap, than so leave it that it 
 may be an habitation for Emmanuel. 1 
 
 Emmanuel again, knowing that the next battle 
 would issue in his being made master of the place, 
 gave out a royal commandment to all his officers, 
 high captains, and men of war, to be sure to show 
 themselves men of war against Diabolus, and all 
 Diabolonians; but favourable, merciful, and 
 meek to all the old inhabitants of Mansoul. 
 Bend, therefore, said the noble Prince, the hottest 
 front of the battle against Diabolus and his men. 
 
 So the day being come, the command was given, 
 and the Prince’s men did bravely stand to their 
 arms; and did, as before, bend their main force 
 against Eargate, and Eyegate. The word was 
 
 The battle ^ ien > ‘Mansoul is won,’ so they made 
 joined, and their assault upon the town. Diabolus 
 both fi ° L sides also, as fast as he could with the main 
 fiercely. 0 f pjg p 0wer> mac [ e resistance from 
 
 within, and his high lords and chief captains for a 
 time fought very cruelly against the Prince’s army. 
 
 But after three or four notable charges by the 
 Eargate broken Prince, and liis noble captains, Ear- 
 °pen. gate was broken open, and the bars 
 and bolts wherewith it was used to be fast shut up 
 against the Prince, were broken into a thousand 
 pieces. Then did the Prince’s trumpets sound, 
 the captains shout, the town shake, and Diabolus 
 retreat to his hold. Well, when the Prince’s 
 forces had broken open the gate, himself came up 
 and did set his throne in it; also he set his stand¬ 
 ard thereby, upon a mount, that before 
 by his men was cast up to place the 
 mighty slings thereon. 2 The mount 
 was called Mount Hearwell ; there, 
 therefore, the Prince abode, to wit, hard 
 by the going in at the gate. He commanded also 
 
 The Prince’s 
 standard set 
 up, and the 
 slings are 
 played still at 
 the* castle. 
 
 1 When Satan can no longer keep his dominion over the 
 soul, he will endeavour to ruin it by temptations to despair, or 
 to some abominable vices; as the poor trembling creature in 
 the gospel, desirous of approaching Christ, ‘ as he was yet a 
 coming, the devil threw him down and tare him! Lu. ix. 42. 
 —(Burder.) 
 
 that the golden slings should yet be played upon 
 the town, especially against the castle, because for 
 shelter thither was Diabolus retreated. Now from 
 Eargate the street was strait, even to the house 
 of Mr. Recorder that so was before Diabolus took 
 the town, and hard by his house stood the castle, 
 which Diabolus for a long time had made his irk¬ 
 some den. The captains, therefore, did quickly 
 clear that street by the use of their slings, so that 
 'way was made up to the heart of the town. Then 
 did the Prince command that Captain Boanerges, 
 Captain Conviction, and Captain Judgment should 
 forthwith march up the town tO the * Conscience, 
 old gentleman’s * gate. Then did the ^Recorder’s 
 captains in most warlike manner enter house, 
 into the town of Mansoul, and marching in with 
 flying colours, they came up to the Recorder’s 
 house, and that was almost as strong as was the 
 castle. Battering rams they took also with them, 
 to plant against the castle-gates. When they were 
 come to the house of Mr. Conscience, they knocked 
 and demanded entrance. Now the old gentleman, 
 not knowing as yet fully their design, kept his 
 gates shut all the time of this fight. Wherefore 
 Boanerges demanded entrance at his They demand 
 gates, and no man making answer, he entrance, 
 gave it one stroke with the head of a ram, and this 
 made the old gentleman shake, and his house to 
 tremble and totter. Then came Mr. Recorder 
 down to the gate, and, as he could, with quiver¬ 
 ing lips, he asked who was there. Boanerges 
 answered, We are the captains and commanders of 
 the great Shaddai, and of the blessed Emmanuel 
 his Son, and we demand possession of your house 
 for the use of our noble Prince. And with that 
 the battering-ram gave the gate another shake; this 
 made the old gentleman tremble the more, yet 
 durst he not but open the gate. Then 
 the King’s forces marched in, namely, They s ° m * 
 the three brave captains mentioned before. Now 
 the Recorder’s house was a place of much con¬ 
 venience for Emmanuel, not only because it was 
 near to the castle, and strong, but also because it 
 was large, and fronted the castle, the den where 
 now Diabolus was: for he was now afraid to come 
 out of his hold. As for Mr. Recorder, They do keep 
 the captains carried it very reservedly served. elve from 
 to him; as yet he knew nothing of the Recorder, 
 the great designs of Emmanuel; so that he did not 
 know what judgment to make, nor what would be 
 the end of such thundering beginnings. It was 
 
 2 Thus was the promise fulfilled, ‘ Iu that day shall the deaf 
 hear the words of the book,’ Is. xxix. 18; and, ‘The ears of 
 the deaf shall be unstopped,’ xxxv. 5. What a blessing to be 
 able to say, ‘ Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.’ The way 
 is strait from Eargate to Conscience, the house of the Recorder, 
 and to the Heart, the castle. * He that hath ears to hear, let 
 him hear.’ May God bestow * the hearing ear ’ upon every 
 i reader.—(Burder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 295 
 
 also presently noised in the town, how the Recor¬ 
 der’s house was possessed, his rooms taken up, and 
 His house the his palace made the seat of the war; 
 
 seat of war. an d no sooner was it noised abroad, 
 but they took the alarm as warmly, and gave it 
 out to others of his friends, and you know as a 
 snow-ball loses nothing by rolling, so in little time 
 the whole town was possessed that they must 
 expect nothing from the Prince but destruction; 
 and the ground of the business was this. The 
 Recorder was afraid, the Recorder trembled, and 
 the captains carried it strangely to the Recorder, 
 so many came to see; but when they with their 
 own eyes did behold the captains in the palace, and 
 their battering rams ever playing at the castle- 
 gates to beat them down, they were riveted in 
 
 The office of con- t^ ie ^ r f ears > and it made them as in 
 
 science when amaze. And, as I said, the man of 
 lie is awakened. . , ... ,. _ . 
 
 the house would increase all this, for 
 
 whoever came to him, or discoursed with him, no¬ 
 thing would he talk of, tell them, or hear, but that 
 death and destruction now attended Mansoul. 1 
 
 ‘ For,’ quoth the old gentleman, ‘ you are all of 
 you sensible that we all have been traitors to that 
 once despised, but now famously victorious and 
 glorious Prince Emmanuel, For he now, as you 
 see, doth not only lie in close siege about us, but 
 hath forced his entrance in at our gates; more¬ 
 over, Diabolus flees before him, and he hath, as you 
 behold, made of my house a garrison against the 
 castle, where he is. I, for my part, have trans 
 gressed greatly, and he that is clean it is well for 
 him. But, I say, I have transgressed greatly in 
 keeping of silence when I should have spoken, and 
 in perverting of justice when I should have exe¬ 
 cuted the same. True, I have suffered something 
 at the hand of Diabolus, for taking part with the 
 laws of King Shaddai; but that, alas! what will 
 that do? Will that make compensation for the 
 rebellions and treasons that I have done, and have 
 suffered without gainsaying, to be committed in 
 the town of Mansoul ? 0, I tremble to think what 
 
 will be the end of this so dreadful and so ireful a 
 beginning! ’ 
 
 - Now, while these brave captains were thus busy 
 in the house of the old Recorder, Captain Execu- 
 
 The "brave ex- ^ on was as ^usy ot Fer parts of the 
 ploits of Cap- town, in securing the back streets, 
 
 and the walls. He also hunted the 
 Lord \\ ill-be-will sorely; he suffered him not to 
 
 When the soul listens to the threatenings of the holy law, 
 conscience fears and quakes; and till enlightened with the 
 knowledge ot the gospel, and the gracious designs of God, it 
 can think and talk of nothing but ‘ death and destruction.’— 
 (Bimler.) See this part of the Holy War, in Bunyan’s ex¬ 
 perience, recorded in Grace Abounding, Nos. 84-88.—(Ed.) 
 
 Bunyan s relief from a state of intense misery was by an 
 assault on Eargate. It was under a sermon upon Christ’s 
 lo\e lhou art fair, my love;’ then was old Prejudice slain. 
 
 Treacherous slain. 
 
 rest in any corner. He pursued him so hard, that 
 he drove his men from him, and made him glad to 
 thrust his head into a hole. Also, this mighty 
 warrior did cut three of the Lord Will-be-will’s 
 officers down to the ground; one was 01d Prciudice 
 old Mr. Prejudice, he that had his JUdICe 
 
 crown cracked in the mutiny; this man was made 
 by Lord Will-be-will keeper of Eargate, and fell 
 by the hand of Captain Execution. There was 
 also one Mr. Back ward-to-all-hut- 
 naught, and he also was one of Lord ^aii-but-naugLt 
 Will-be-will’s officers, and was the slain * 
 captain of the two guns that once were mounted 
 on the top of Eargate, he also was cut down to 
 the ground by the hands of Captain Execution. 
 Besides these two there was another, a third, and 
 his name was Captain Treacherous, 
 a vile man this was, but one that 
 Will-be-will did put a great deal of confidence in; 
 but him also did this Captain Execution cut down 
 to the ground with the rest. 2 
 
 He also made a very great slaughter among my 
 Lord Will-be-will’s soldiers, killing many that were 
 stout and sturdy, and wounding of many that for 
 Diabolus were nimble and active. But all these 
 were Diabolonians; there Avas not a man, a native 
 of Mansoul, hurt. 3 
 
 Other feats of war were also likewise performed 
 by other of the captains, as at Eyegate, 4 Avliere 
 Captain Goodhope and Captain Charity had a 
 charge, AA r as great execution done ; for the Captain 
 Goodhope, with his own hands, slew Captain Good- 
 one Captain Blindfold, the keeper of captd^Bhnd^ 
 that gate; this Blindfold was captain fold - 
 of a thousand men, and they were they that fought 
 with, mauls; he also pursued his men, sleAV many, 
 and wounded more, and made the rest hide their 
 heads in corners. 
 
 There was also at that gate Mr. Illpause, of 
 whom you have heard before; he Avas an old man, 
 and had a beard that reached down to his girdlei 
 the same Avas he that Avas orator to 
 Diabolus; he did much mischief in And old Illpause ’ 
 the toAvn of Mansoul, and fell by the hand of 
 Captain Goodhope. 
 
 What shall I say, the Diabolonians in these 
 days lay dead in every corner, though too many 
 yet Avere alive in Mansoul. 5 
 
 and his officers; although other fears afterwards terrified him, 
 yet Prejudice was slain. Read the narrative in Grace Abound¬ 
 ing, Nos. 89-92.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 No faculty or power of the soul can he injured by a death 
 unto sin and a life unto holiness. Peace and happiness in¬ 
 crease as we live near to God. My young friends, if Satan 
 tells you that religion is a dull or melancholy thing, call to 
 mind the happiness, nay, ecstacies of Paul and David when 
 living under its holy influences.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 See Grace Abounding, No. 113.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 Conversion proceeds. The carnal will has no rest; Pre¬ 
 judice is slain; Aversion-to-good, Treachery, Blindness, and 
 
296 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 •*»! 
 
 •W 
 
 3 
 
 t 
 
 3 
 
 ‘g'lrtf 
 
 gg 
 
 i 
 
 ^v|| 
 
 [Chapter VIII.] 
 
 [Contents:— The principal inhabitants hold a conference, and 
 agree to petition the Prince for their lives—The castle 
 gates broken open—Emmanuel marches into Mansoul— 
 
 • Diabolus is made prisoner, and hound in chains—The in¬ 
 habitants, greatly distressed, petition again and again— 
 At length a free pardon is obtained, and universal joy 
 succeeds.] 
 
 Now tlie old Recorder, and my Lord Understand¬ 
 ing, with some others of the chief of the 
 
 The old towns- ° . . . 
 
 men meet and town, to wit, such a3 knew they must 
 
 consult. stand and fall with the famous town 
 
 of Mansoul, came together upon a day, and after 
 
 consultation had, did jointly agree to draw up a 
 
 petition, and to send it to Emmanuel, now while 
 
 The town does he sat hi B ie g a t e Mansoul. So they 
 
 petition, and drew up their petition to Emmanuel, 
 are answered 1 r , 
 
 with silence, the contents whereof were this, 1 hat 
 they, the old inhabitants of the now deplorable 
 town of Mansoul, confessed their sin, and were 
 sorry that they had offended his princely Majesty, 
 and prayed that he would spare their lives. * 1 2 
 
 Upon this petition he gave no answer at all, and 
 that did trouble them yet so much the more. 
 Now all this while the captains that were in the 
 Recorder’s house were playing with the battering- 
 rams at the gates of the castle, to beat them down. 
 So after some time, labour, and travail, the gate 
 The castle gates of the castle that was called Impreg- 
 broke open. nable was beaten open, and broken 
 
 into several splinters; and so a way made to go 
 up to the hold in which Diabolus had hid himself/ 
 Then was tidings sent down to Eargate, for 
 Emmanuel still abode there, to let him know that 
 a way was made in at the gates of the castle of 
 Mansoul. But 0 ! how the trumpets at the tidings 
 sounded throughout the Prince’s camp, for that 
 now the war was so near an end, and Mansoul 
 itself of being set free.' 3 
 
 Then the Prince arose from the place where he 
 _ , was, and took with him such of his 
 
 marches into men of war as were fittest for that 
 expedition, and marched up the street 
 of Mansoul to the old Recorder’s house. 
 
 Now the Prince himself was clad all in armour 
 of gold, and so he marched up the town with his 
 standard borne before him; but he kept his coun¬ 
 tenance much reserved all the way as he went, so 
 that the people could not tell how to gather to 
 
 that most dangerous foe to the soul, old lllpause, with his 
 traditions, antiquity and longbeard, are slain. All these 
 were Diabolonians, not one native power of the soul was 
 injured.—(Burder.) 
 
 1 * Behold he prayeth.’ Prayer is the first sign of spiritual 
 life; Emmanuel was in Mansoul; the answer may he deferred, 
 but praying breath was never spent in vain.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 When the conscience is alarmed, and sends its battering- 
 rams against the heart or affections, the castle, and so the 
 
 whole soul, will be quickly reduced, and fall into the arms o 
 
 Divine mercy.— (Ed.) 
 
 themselves love or hatred by his looks. Now as 
 he marched up the street, the townsfolk came out 
 at every door to see, and could not but be taken 
 with his person, and the glory thereof, but wondered 
 at the reservedness of his countenance; for as yet 
 he spake more to them by his actions and works, 
 than he did by words or smiles. But also poor 
 Mansoul, as in such cases all are apt to do, they 
 interpreted the carriages of Emmanuel , T ., . . 
 
 1 ... T , , , n . How they mter- 
 
 to them, as did Joseph s brethren his pretEmmanu- 
 
 to them, even all the quite contrary ei s caimges * 
 way. For, thought they, if Emmanuel loved us, 
 he would show it to us by word or carriage; but 
 none of these he doth, therefore Emmanuel hates 
 us. Now if Emmanuel hates us, then Mansoul 
 shall be slain, then Mansoul shall become a dung¬ 
 hill. They knew that they had transgressed his 
 Father’s law, and that against him they had been 
 in with Diabolus his enemy. They also knew that 
 the Prince Emmanuel knew all this ; for they were 
 convinced that he was as an Angel of God, to 
 mow all things that are done in the earth. And 
 his made them think that their condition was 
 miserable, and that the good Prince would make 
 them desolate. 
 
 And, thought they, what time so fit to do this 
 in as now, when he has the bridle of Mansoul in 
 lis hand. And this I took special notice of, that 
 he inhabitants, notwithstanding all this, could 
 not; no, they could not, when they see him march 
 through the town, but cringe, bow, bend, and were 
 ready to lick the dust of his feet. They also 
 wished a thousand times over, that he would be¬ 
 come their Prince and Captain, and would be¬ 
 come their protection. They would also one to 
 another talk of the comeliness of his person, and 
 how much for glory and valour he outstript the 
 great ones of the world. But, poor hearts, as to 
 themselves their thoughts would change, and go 
 upon all manner of extremes; yea, through the 
 working of them backward and forward, Mansoul 
 became as a ball tossed, and as a rolling thing be¬ 
 fore the whirlwind. 4 is. xvii. 13 ; xxii. is. 
 
 Now when he was come to the castle gates, he 
 commanded Diabolus to appear, and He C0Tneg up to 
 to surrender himself into his hands. 
 
 But 0! how loth was the beast to 
 appear! How he stuck at it! how 
 he shrunk! aye, how he cringed! 
 came to the prince. Then Emmanuel commanded, 
 and they took Diabolus and bound him fast in 
 
 the castle, and 
 commands Pia- 
 bolus to sur¬ 
 render himself. 
 
 Yet out he 
 
 3 There is joy in heaven over the repenting sinner. The 
 heart, which was deemed impregnable, is taken by invincible 
 grace.—(Burder.) 
 
 4 Bunyan was for seven or eight weeks in this painful state. 
 Peace in and out twenty times a day; comfort now, and trouble 
 presently; peace now, and before I could go a furlong as full 
 of fear and guilt as ever heart could hold .—Grace Abounding , 
 No. 205 —(Ed.) 
 
THE IIOLY WAR. 
 
 297 
 
 chains, the better to reserve him to the judgment 
 that he had appointed for him. But Diabolus 
 stood up to entreat for himself, that Emmanuel 
 would not send him into the deep, hut sufFer him 
 to depart out of Mansoul in peace. 
 
 When Emmanuel had taken him and bound him 
 
 He is taken in cliains > lie let * llim illto the market- 
 and bound in place, and there, before Mansoul, 
 
 stripped him of his armour in which 
 he boasted so much before. This now was one of 
 the acts of triumph of Emmanuel over his enemv : 
 and all the while that the giant was stripping, the 
 trumpets of the golden Prince did sound amain; 
 the captains also shouted, and the soldiers did 
 sing for joy. Then was Mansoul called upon to 
 Mansoul must behold the beginning of Emmanuel’s 
 behold it. triumph over him in whom they so 
 much had trusted, and of whom they so much 
 had boasted in the days when he flattered them. 
 
 Thus having made Diabolus naked in the eyes 
 of Mansoul, and before the commanders of the 
 
 He is bound ^ r ^ nce » ^ ie next place lie commands 
 to ins chariot that Diabolus should be bound with 
 
 chains to his chariot-wheels. Then 
 leaving of some of his forces, to wit, Captain 
 Boanerges, and Captain Conviction, as a guard 
 for the castle gates, that resistance might be made 
 on his behalf, if any that heretofore followed 
 The rrince rides Diabolus should make an attempt to 
 
 iiim 'inThe^ight P ossess he did ride in triumph over 
 of Mansoul. him quite through the town of Man¬ 
 soul, and so out at, and before the gate called 
 Eyegate, to the plain where his camp did lie. Ep. iv. 
 
 But you cannot think unless you had been there, 
 us I was, what a shout there was in Emmanuel’s 
 camp when they saw the tyrant bound by the 
 hand of their noble Prince, and tied to his chariot- 
 
 They sing. wheels! . And they said, He hath 
 led captivity captive ; he hath spoiled 
 principalities and powers; Diabolus is subjected 
 to the power of his sword, and made the object of 
 all derision! 1 
 
 Those also that rode Reformades, and that came 
 The Reformades’ down to see the battle, they shouted 
 with that greatness of voice, and sung 
 with such melodious notes, that they caused them 
 that dwell in the highest orbs to open their win¬ 
 dows, put out their heads, and look down to see 
 the cause of that glory. Lu. xv. 7-10. 2 
 
 The townsmen also, so many of them as saw 
 
 At our Lord’s ascension, when he triumphed over all the 
 force ol death and hell, obtained eternal redemption for us, 
 and received all powder in heaven and earth for his elect, till 
 heir number is accomplished. Then will be the everlasting 
 triumph.—(Mason.) b 
 
 ” ^ i^ ie fl e f° nn ades we are to understand the angel volun¬ 
 teers, who desire to look into the wonders of salvation, and 
 who rejoice over every sinner who finds salvation in Christ. 
 It is here very strikingly and beautiful!v expressed.—(E d ) 
 VOL. III. * 
 
 this sight, were as it were, while they looked, 
 betwixt the earth and the heavens. True, they 
 could not tell what would be the issue The men of 
 of things as to them, but all things 
 were done in such excellent methods; uel 
 and I cannot tell how, but things in the manage¬ 
 ment of them seemed to cast a smile towards the 
 town, so that their eyes, their heads, their hearts, 
 and their minds, and all that they had, were taken 
 and held, while they observed Emmanuel’s order. 3 
 
 So when the brave Prince had finished this part 
 of his triumph over Diabolus his foe, he turned 
 him up in the midst of his contempt and shame, 
 having given him a charge no more to be a pos¬ 
 sessor of Mansoul. Then went he from Emmanuel, 
 and out of the midst of his camp to inherit the 
 parched places in a salt land, seeking rest but 
 finding none. Mat. xii. 43. 
 
 Noav Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction 
 were both of them men of very great majesty, their 
 faces were like the faces of lions, [1 Ch. xii. 8.] and 
 their words like the roaring of the sea; [is. v. 29-30.] 
 and they still quartered in Mr. Conscience’s house, 
 of whom mention was made before. When there¬ 
 fore the high and mighty Prince had thus far 
 finished his triumph over Diabolus, the townsmen 
 had more leisure to view and to behold the actions 
 of these noble captains. But the captains carried 
 it with that terror and dread in all 
 that they did, and you may be sure 
 that they had private instructions so j[ L J? p n tainCo ^ 
 to do, that they kept the town under crush tlie s p>- 
 
 „ ,• •• •, L 1 . rit of Mansoul. 
 
 continual heart-aching, and caused, 111 
 their apprehension, the well-being of Mansoul for 
 the future, to hang in doubt before them, so that, 
 for some considerable time, they neither knew what 
 rest, or ease, or peace, or hope meant. 4 
 
 Nor did the Prince himself, as yet, abide in the 
 town of Mansoul, but in his royal pavillion in the 
 camp, and in the midst of his Father’s forces. 
 So at a time convenient, he sent special orders to 
 Captain Boanerges to summons Mansoul, the whole 
 of the townsmen, into the castle-yard, and then 
 and there, before their faces, to take my Lord Un¬ 
 derstanding, Mr. Conscience, and that 
 notable one the Lord Will-be-will, and T man™and°the 
 put them all three in ward, and that c g 
 
 they should set a strong guard upon of Mansoul ia 
 them there, until his pleasure concern¬ 
 ing them were further known. The which orders, 
 when the captains had put them in execution, 
 made no small addition to the fears of the town of 
 Mansoul; for now, to their thinking, were their 
 
 s Compare this, and the two following paragraphs, with the 
 
 Grace Abounding, Nos. 189-192.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Sin-sick soul, Christ is an all-sufficient physician; only 
 ollow hi3 advice, and the efficacious prescriptions of his Word. 
 Ho, vi. 3.—Ulason.j 
 
 38 
 
I 
 
 29S 
 
 THE HOLY WAK. 
 
 ! ! 
 
 I 
 
 Cel 
 
 c 
 
 «e 
 
 '««ql 
 
 former fears of the ruin of Man soul confirmed. 
 Now, what death they should die, and how long 
 they should be in dying, was that which most per¬ 
 plexed their heads and hearts. Yea, they were 
 afraid that Emmanuel would command them all 
 into the deep, the place that the prince Diabolus 
 was afraid of; for they knew that they had de¬ 
 served it. Also to die by the sword in the face 
 of the town, and in the open way of disgrace, from 
 the hand of so good and so holy a Prince, that, 
 
 Mansoul greatly too, troubled them sore. The town 
 distressed. was a i so greatly troubled for the men 
 
 that were committed to ward, for that they were 
 their stay and their guide, and for that they be¬ 
 lieved that if those men were cut off, their execu¬ 
 tion would be but the beginning of the ruin of the 
 town of Mansoul. 1 Wherefore what do they, but 
 They send a P e- together with the men in prison, draw 
 titibn to Em- U p a petition to the Prince, and sent 
 
 manuel, by the . 1 * . iput 
 
 hand of Mr. it to Emmanuel by the hand of Mr. 
 Wouidhve. Wouldlive. So he went and came to 
 
 the Prince’s quarters, and presented the petition; 
 the sum of which was this:— 
 
 ‘ Great and wonderful potentate, victor over 
 Diabolus, and conqueror of the town of Mansoul, 
 We, the miserable inhabitants of that most woful 
 corporation, do humbly beg that we may find 
 favour in thy sight, and remember not against us 
 former transgressions, nor yet the sins of the chief 
 of our town, but spare us according to the great¬ 
 ness of thy mercy, and let us not die, but live in 
 thy sight; so shall we be willing to be thy serv¬ 
 ants, and if thou shalt think fit, to gather our 
 meat under thy table. 2 Amen.’ 
 
 So the petitioner went as was said with his peti¬ 
 tion to the Prince, and the Prince took it at his 
 
 They are an- h* 111 ^, but sent him away with silence, 
 swered with This still afflicted the town of Man- 
 
 silence 
 
 soul, but yet considering that now they 
 must either petition, or die—for now they could 
 not do anything else—therefore they consulted 
 again, and sent another petition, and this petition 
 was much after the form and method of the former. 
 
 But when the petition was drawn up, by whom 
 should they send it was the next question ; for 
 they would not send this by him by whom they 
 sent the first, for they thought that the Prince had 
 taken some offence at the manner of his deport- 
 
 They petition uient before him; so they attempted 
 again. to ma k e Captain Conviction their mes¬ 
 senger with it, but he said that he neither durst, 
 nor would petition Emmanuel for traitors; nor be 
 
 1 It is common with convinced sinners, before thev obtain 
 clear views of the gospel, to remain in terror and alarm. They 
 feel themselves condemned by the faithful preaching of the 
 Word; but all will be well—will issue in fervent prayer and 
 happy peace.—(Burder.) 
 
 z IN'either the bearer of this petition, nor the prayer itself, can 
 be acceptable. It is the language of those who have been 
 
 to the Prince an advocate for rebels. Yet withal, 
 said he, our Prince is good, and you Thejcmnotte „ 
 may adventure to send it by the hand by whom to 
 
 ** send it 
 
 of one of your town, provided he went 
 
 with a rope about his head, and pleaded nothing 
 
 but mercy. 3 
 
 Well, they made, through fear, their delays as 
 long as they could, and longer than delays were 
 good; hut fearing at last the dangerousness of 
 them, they thought, but with many a fainting in 
 their minds, to send their petition by Mr. Desires- 
 awake; so they sent for Mr. Desires-awake. Now 
 he dwelt in a very mean cottage in Mansoul, and 
 he came at his neighbours’ request. So they told 
 him what they had done, and what they would do 
 concerning petitioning, and that they did desire of 
 him that he would go therewith to the Prince. 
 
 Then said Mr. Desires-awake, why should not 
 
 I do the best I can to save so famous Mr Desireg . 
 
 a town as Mansoul from deserved de- awake goes 
 • o mi i o it i with tbe P etl * 
 struction s They therefore delivered tion to the 
 
 the petition to him, and told him how llince * 
 
 he must address himself to the Prince, and wished 
 
 him ten thousand good speeds. So he comes to 
 
 the Prince’s pavilion, as the first, and asked to 
 
 speak with his Majesty; so word was carried to 
 
 Emmanuel, and the Prince came out to the man. 
 
 When Mr. Desires-awake saw the Prince, he fell 
 
 flat with his face to the ground, and cried out, 0 
 
 that Mansoul might live before thee! and with that 
 
 he presented the petition. The which when the 
 
 Prince had read, he turned away for a while and 
 
 wept, hut, refraining himself, he turned nis entertain- 
 
 again to the man, who all this while Iuent- 
 
 lay crying at his feet as at the first, and said to 
 
 him, Go thy way to thy place, and I will consider 
 
 of thy requests. 
 
 Now you may think that they of Mansoul that 
 had sent him, what with guilt, and what with fear, 
 lest their petition should he rejected, could not but 
 look with many a long look, and that too with 
 strange workings of heart, to see what would be¬ 
 come of their petition. At last, they nis return>and 
 
 saw their messenger coming back ; so, answer to them 
 
 . . ° . ° . . . that sent him. 
 
 when he was come, they asked him 
 how he fared, what Emmanuel said, and what 
 was become of the petition. But he told them that 
 he would be silent till he came to the prison to my 
 Lord Mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Re¬ 
 corder. So he went forwards towards the prison- 
 house, where the men of Mansoul lay hound. But 
 
 conquered by terror and power, and not by love; thus it ends 
 
 with the words of Adonibezek, relative to the seventy kings 
 that he had brought down to slavery. Ju. i. 7.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 Heady and Highmind are long since slain—Mansoul feels 
 3ier misery. As a condemned malefactor, expecting execution, 
 what can she sue for but mercy ? ‘ God be merciful to me a 
 
 sinner.’ For the ropes about their heads, see 1 Ki. xx. 31.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
THE I10LY 'WAR. 
 
 299 
 
 0! what a multitude flocked after to hear what 
 the messenger said. So when he was come and 
 had shown himself at the grate of the prison, my 
 Lord Mayor himself looked as white as a clout, 
 the Recorder also did quake; hut they asked 
 and said, Come, good Sir, what did the great 
 Prince say to you? Then said Mr. Desires-awake, 
 when I came to my Lord’s pavilion, I called, and 
 he came forth; so 1 fell prostrate at his feet, and 
 delivered to him my petition, for the greatness of 
 his person, and the glory of his countenance would 
 not suffer me to stand upon my legs. Now as he 
 received the petition, I cried, 0 that Mansoul 
 might live before thee! So when for a while he 
 had looked thereon, he turned him about and said 
 to his servant, Go thy way to thy place again, and 
 I will consider of thy requests. The messenger 
 added moreover, and said, The Prince to whom 
 you sent me is such a one for beauty and glory, 
 that whoso sees him must both love and fear him; 
 1, for my part, can do no less; but I know not 
 what will be the end of these things. 1 At this 
 „ r , answer they were all at a stand ; both 
 founded at the they in prison, and they that followed 
 the messenger thither to hear the 
 news; nor knew they what or what manner of in¬ 
 terpretation to put upon -what the Prince had said. 
 Now, when the prison was cleared of the throng, 
 the prisoners among themselves began to com¬ 
 ment upon Emmanuel’s words. My Lord Mayor 
 The prisoners’ said that the answer did not look 
 ihe° U1 Prince’s with a rugged face; but Will-be-will 
 answer. said ft betokened evil; and the Re¬ 
 
 corder, that it was a messenger of death. Now, 
 they that were left, and that stood behind, and so 
 could not so well hear what the prisoners said, some 
 of them catclied hold of one piece of a sentence, and 
 some on a bit of another; some took hold of what 
 the messenger said, and some of the prisoners’ 
 Misgiving judgment thereon; so none had the 
 confusion bie in right understanding of things; but 
 Mansoul. you canno t imagine what work these 
 people made, and what a confusion there was in 
 Mansoul now. 2 
 
 For presently they that had heard what was 
 said, flew' about the town; one crying one thing, 
 and another the quite contrary, and both were 
 sure enough they told true, for they did hear, they 
 said, with their ears what was said, and therefore 
 could not be deceived. One would say, We must 
 all bd killed; another would say, We must all be 
 saved ; and a third would say that the Prince 
 
 1 It is a token of true conversion when the soul can, as it 
 were, with one eye, behold its total defilement by sin, and abhor 
 itself in dust and ashes; and with the other be struck with 
 the glory and excellency of Christ’s person and work, and the 
 all-sufficiency of his salvation.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 See Grace Abounding, No. 186 .—(Ed.) 
 
 would not be concerned with Mansoul; and a fourth 
 that the prisoners must be suddenly put to death. 
 And as I said, every one stood to it that he told 
 his tale the rightest, and that all others but ho 
 were out. Wherefore Mansoul had now molesta¬ 
 tion upon molestation, nor could any man know 
 on what to rest the sole of his foot; for one would 
 go by now, and as he went, if he heard his neigh¬ 
 bour tell his tale, to be sure he would tell the 
 quite contrary, and both would stand in it that he 
 told the truth. Nay, some of them had got this 
 story by the end, that the Prince did intend to 
 put Mansoul to the sword. And now it began to 
 be dark; wherefore poor Mansoul was Mansoul in pcr- 
 in sad perplexity all that night until plexity< 
 the morning. 3 
 
 But, so far as I could gather, by the best infor¬ 
 mation that 1 could get, all this hubbub came 
 through the words that the Recorder said, when 
 he told them that in his judgment the Prince’s 
 answer was a messenger of death. It was this 
 that fired the town, and that began what will guilt 
 the fright in Mansoul, for Mansoul, in do? 
 former times, did use to count that Mr. Recorder 
 was a seer, and that his sentence was equal to the 
 best of oracles, and thus was Mansoul a terror to 
 itself. 
 
 And now did they begin to feel what was the 
 effects of stubborn rebellion, and unlawful resist¬ 
 ance against their Prince. I say they now began 
 to feel the effects thereof by guilt and fear, that 
 now had swallowed them up, and who more in¬ 
 volved in the one, but they who were most in the 
 other; to wit, the chief of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 To be brief, when the fame 4 of the fright was 
 out of the town, and the prisoners had a little re¬ 
 covered themselves, they take to themselves some 
 heart, and think to petition the Prince They resolve to 
 for life again. So they did draw up petition again. 
 
 a third petition, the contents whereof were this:— 
 
 ‘ Prince Emmanuel the Great, Lord of all worlds, 
 and master of mercy, We, thy poor, 
 
 , . . . Hi./ 1 V Their petition. 
 
 wretched, miserable, dying town ot 
 Mansoul, do confess unto tli 3 r great and glorious 
 majesty that we have sinned against thy Father 
 and thee, and are no more worthy to be called thy 
 Mansoul, but rather to be cast into the pit. If 
 thou wilt slay us, we have deserved it. If thou 
 wilt condemn us to the deep, we cannot but say 
 thou art righteous. We cannot complain, whatever 
 thou dost, or however thou carriest it towards us. 
 But 01 let mercy reign; and let it be extended 
 
 s No unconverted person can imagine with what rapidity 
 these ideas pass through the mind of the convinced sinner, nor 
 the distraction and misery of such a state of wretched uncer¬ 
 tainty. The recollection of these feelings is the only key to 
 
 the 1'orty-second Psalm. ‘ Deep calleth unto deep; all thy 
 
 waves and thy billows are gone over me/—(E d.) 
 
 4 ‘Fame / or rumour, or public report; thus, Ge. xly. 16. 
 
soo 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 to us l 0 let mercy take hold upon us, and free 
 us from our transgressions, and we will sing of thy 
 mercy and of thy judgment. Amen.’ 
 
 This petition, when drawn up, was designed to 
 Prayer attended he sent to the Prince as the first, but 
 with difficulty. w ] 10 ghoul d carry it, that was the 
 
 question. Some said, Let him do it that went with 
 the first; but others thought not good to do that, 
 and that because he sped no better. Now there 
 was an old man in the town, and his name was 
 Mr. Gooddeed; a man that bare only the name, 
 but had nothing of the nature of the thing. Now 
 
 „ some were for sending of him, but the 
 
 Old Gooddeed . ° . . 
 
 propounded as Recorder was by no means tor that, 
 
 carry P the peti- f°r, said lie, we now stand in need of, 
 Recorder 6 op 1 an( ^ are pleading for mercy, wherefore 
 noses it, and to send our petition by a man of his 
 lie is rejected. narne seem to cross the petition 
 
 itself. Should we make Mr. Gooddeed our mes¬ 
 senger when our petition cries for mercy? 
 
 ‘ Besides,’ quoth the old gentleman, ‘ should the 
 Prince now, as he receives the petition, ask him 
 and say, What is thy name? as nobody knows but 
 he will, and he should say, Old Gooddeed, what, 
 think you, would Emmanuel say but this, Aye! 
 is old Gooddeed yet alive in Mansoul, then let old 
 Gooddeed save you from your distresses ? And if 
 he says so, I am sure we are lost; nor can a thou¬ 
 sand of old Gooddeeds save Mansoul.’ 1 
 
 After the Recorder had given in his reasons why 
 old Gooddeed should not go with this petition to 
 Emmanuel, the rest of the prisoners and chief of 
 Mansoul opposed it also, and so old Gooddeed was 
 laid aside, and they agreed to send Mr. Desires- 
 awake again; so they sent for him, and desired 
 him that he would a second time go with their 
 petition to the Prince, and he readily told them he 
 would. But they bid him that in any wise he 
 would take heed that in no word or carriage he 
 gave offence to the Prince, for by doing so, for 
 ought we can tell, you may bring Mansoul into 
 utter destruction, said they. 
 
 Now Mr. Desires-awake, when he saw that he 
 must go of this errand, besought that they would 
 
 Mr. Desires-a- grant that Mr. Weteyes might go with 
 wake goes a- him. Now this Weteyes was a near 
 one Weteyes neighbour or Mr. Desires, a poor man, 
 with lnm. a man 0 f a broken spirit, yet one that 
 
 could speak well to a petition. So they granted 
 that he should go with him. Wherefore they 
 address themselves to their business. Mr. Desires 
 put a rope upon his head, and Mr. Weteyes went 
 
 1 Although the spirit of prayer prevails, yet what a clinging 
 is there to old Gooddeeds. O you that hope for salvation in 
 some supposed good deeds, listen to the answer which naturally 
 suggests itself, ‘ Let good works save thee what need of grace. 
 If salvation he attainable by the law, then the death of Christ 
 was needless.—(Rn.) 
 
 with hands wringing together. 2 Thus they went 
 to the Prince’s pavilion. 
 
 Now when they went to petition this third time, 
 they were not without thoughts that by often com¬ 
 ing they might be a burden to the Prince. Where¬ 
 fore, when they were come to the door . 
 
 . J . Their apology 
 
 of his pavilion, they first made their for their coni- 
 
 apology for themselves, and for their mg agdm ‘ 
 
 coming to trouble Emmanuel so often; and thev 
 
 said that they came not hither to-day for that 
 
 they delighted in being troublesome, or for that 
 
 they delighted to hear themselves talk, but for 
 
 that necessity caused them to come to his Majesty: 
 
 they could, they said, have no rest day nor night, 
 
 because of their transgressions against Shaddai, 
 
 and against Emmanuel his Son. They also thought 
 
 that some misbehaviour of Mr. Desires-awake the 
 
 last time, might give distaste to his Highness, 
 
 and so caused that he returned from so merciful 
 
 a Prince empty, and without countenance. So 
 
 when they had made this apology, Mr. Desires- 
 
 awake cast himself prostrate upon the ground 
 
 as at the first, at the feet of the mighty Prince, 
 
 saying, 0 that Mansoul might live before thee! 
 
 And so he delivered his petition. The Prince then 
 
 having read the petition, turned aside a while, as 
 
 before, and, coming again to the place where the 
 
 petitioner lay on the ground, he de- The Prince talk- 
 
 manded what his name was, and of eth with lhem - 
 
 what esteem in the account of Mansoul; for that 
 
 he, above all the multitude in Mansoul, should 
 
 be sent to him upon such an errand. Then 
 
 said the man to the Prince, ‘ 0 let „ ^ 
 
 Mr. Desires fret 
 
 not my Lord be angry; and why speech to the 
 inquirest thou after the name of such Fimce ' 
 a dead dog as I am? Pass by, I pray thee, 
 and take no notice of who I am, because there is, 
 as thou very well knowest, so great a dispropor¬ 
 tion between me and thee. Why the townsmen 
 chose to send me on this errand to my Lord, is 
 best known to themselves, but it could not be for 
 that they thought that I had favour with my Lord. 
 For my part, I am out of charity with myself; who 
 then should be in love with me ? Yet live I would, 
 and so would I that my townsmen should, and 
 because both they and myself are guilty of great 
 transgressions, therefore they have sent me, and 1 
 am come in their names to beg of my Lord for 
 mercy. Let it please thee therefore to incline to 
 mercy, but ask not Avhat thy servants are.’ 
 
 Then said the Prince, ‘ And what is he that is 
 become thy companion in this so weighty a matter ?’ 
 So Mr. Desires told Emmanuel that he was a poor 
 
 2 How humbling to human pride is this 1 But unless our 
 desires for mercy be accompanied with a broken and a contrite 
 spirit, they will be rejected; but the broken heart God will 
 not despise. Ps. xxxiv. 18; li. 17. Is. lvii. 15. ‘He will re¬ 
 gard the prayer of the destitute.’ Ps. cii. 17.—(Er>0 
 
/ 
 
 TIIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 301 
 
 neighbour of his, and one of his most intimate 
 associates, and his name, said he, may it please 
 your most excellent Majesty, is Weteyes, of the 
 town of Mansoul. I know that there 
 are many of that name that are naught, 
 but 1 hope it will be no offence to my Lord that 
 I have brought my poor neighbour with me. 
 
 Then Mr. Wet-eyes fell on his face to the 
 ground, and made this apology for his coming with 
 his neighbour to his Lord: — 
 
 * 0 my Lord,’ quoth he, 4 what I am I know not 
 Mr. Weteyes’ myself, nor whether mv name be 
 commg f °with feigned or true, especially when I 
 his neighbour. p e gi n to think what some have said, 
 
 namely, that this name was given me because 
 Mr. Repentance was my father. Good men have 
 bad children, and the sincere do oftentimes beget 
 hypocrites. My mother also called me by this 
 name from my cradle, but whether because of the 
 moistness of my brain, or because of the softness 
 of my heart, I cannot tell. I see dirt in mine own 
 tears, and filthiness in the bottom of my prayers. 1 
 But I pray thee ’—and all this while the gentleman 
 wept—‘ that thou wouldest not remember against 
 us our transgressions, nor take offence at the un¬ 
 qualifiedness of thy servants, but mercifully pass 
 by the sin of Mansoul, and refrain from the glory- 
 fying of thy grace no longer.’ 2 
 
 So at his bidding they arose, and both stood 
 trembling before him, and he spake to them to this 
 
 purpose:— 
 
 ‘ The town of Mansoul hath grievously rebelled 
 The Prince’s an- against my Father, in that they have 
 answer. rejected him from being their king, 
 and did choose to themselves for their captain a 
 liar, a murderer, and a runagate slave. For this 
 Diabolus, and your pretended prince, though once 
 so highly accounted of by you, made rebellion 
 against my Father and me, even in our palace and 
 highest court there, thinking to become a prince 
 The original of and king. But being there timely 
 Diabolus. discovered and apprehended, and for 
 
 his wickedness bound in chains, and separated to 
 the pit with those who were his companions, he 
 offered himself to you, and you have received him. 
 
 ‘ Now this is, and for a long time hath been an 
 high affront to my Father, wherefore my Father 
 sent to you a powerful army to reduce you to your 
 obedience. But you know how those men, their 
 captains, and their counsels, were esteemed of you. 
 
 1 This language is peculiarly striking; there may be a mix¬ 
 ture of pride in our deepest humility, and sin mingled with 
 our holiest duties.—(E d.) 
 
 2 AN ill-be-will is brought low; Boastings, Bragman, Ill- 
 pause are dead; the soul is humbled, and uses such striking 
 but just terms, ‘ 1 see dirt in mine own tears.’ Redemption 
 draws nigh. Beveridge says, ‘ Repentance needs to be re¬ 
 pented, our tears want washing, and the very washing of these 
 tears needs still to be washed over again in the blood of the 
 
 Redeemer.’— (Kd.) 
 
 and what they received at your hand. You re¬ 
 belled against them, you shut your gates upon 
 them, you bid them battle, you fought them, and 
 fought for Diabolus against them. So they sent 
 to my Father for more power, and I with my men 
 are come to subdue you. But as you treated the 
 servants, so you treated their Lord. You stood 
 up in hostile manner against me, you shut up your 
 gates against me, you turned the deaf ear to me, 
 and resisted as long as you could; but now I have 
 made a conquest of you. Did you cry me mercy 
 so long as you had hopes that you might prevail 
 against me? 3 But now I have taken the town, 
 you cry. But why did you not cry before, when the 
 white flag of my mercy, the red flag of justice, and 
 the black flag that threatened execution, were set 
 up to cite you to it? Now I have conquered your 
 Diabolus, you come to me for favour, but why did 
 you not help me against the mighty? Yet I will 
 consider your petition, and will answer it so as 
 will be for my glory. 
 
 ‘ Go, bid Captain Boanerges and Captain Con¬ 
 viction bring the prisoners out to me into the 
 camp to-morrow, and say you to Captain Judg¬ 
 ment and Captain Execution, Stay you in the 
 castle, and take good heed to yourselves that you 
 keep all quiet in Mansoul until you hear further 
 from me.’ And with that he turned himself from 
 them, and went into his royal pavilion again. 4 
 
 So the petitioners having received this answer 
 from the Prince, returned as at the first to go to 
 their companions again. But they had not gone 
 far, but thoughts began to work in their minds 
 that no mercy as yet was intended by the Prince 
 to Mansoul; so they went to the place where the 
 prisoners lay bound ; but these workings of mind 
 about what would become of Mansoul, had such 
 strong power over them, that by that they were 
 come unto them that sent them, they were scarce 
 able to deliver their message. 
 
 But they came at length to the gates of the 
 town—now the townsmen with earnestness were 
 waiting for their return—where many met them, 
 to know what answer was made to the petition. 
 Then they cried out to those that were sent, What 
 news from the Prince, and what hath Emmanuel 
 said ? But they said that they must, as before, 
 go up to the prison, and there deliver their message. 
 So away they went to the prison, with of inquisitive 
 a multitude at their heels. Now, thoughts, 
 when they were come to the grates of the prison, 
 
 3 All converted souls will confess that if God the Spirit had 
 not arrested and stopped them in their mad career, they would 
 have lived, died, and perished for ever in their sins.—(Mason.) 
 
 1 How much must this have deepened their sense of sin. 
 The law enters that sin may abound, that it may appear ex¬ 
 ceedingly sinful, aud render the grace of God infinitely precious. 
 —(Burder.)' The recollection of such dreadful suspense is in¬ 
 valuable to prevent backsliding, by hatred to sin.— (Ed.) 
 
i i 
 It 
 
 lIK 
 
 
 mmm 
 
 IS 
 
 a 
 
 “M 
 
 SO 2 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 they told the first part of Emmanuel’s speech to 
 the prisoners; to wit, how he reflected upon their 
 The messengers, disloyalty to his Father and himself, 
 taieffri'jiuiie au( ^ how they had chose and closed 
 prisoners. with Diabolus, had fought for him, 
 hearkened to him, and been ruled by him, but had 
 despised him and his men. This made the prisoners 
 look pale ; but the messengers proceeded, and said, 
 He, the Prince, said, moreover, that yet he would 
 consider your petition, and give such answer thereto' 
 as would stand with his glory. And as these 
 words were spoken, Mr. Weteyes gave a great 
 sigh. At this they were all of them struck into 
 their dumps, and could not tell what to say. Fear 
 also possessed them in a marvellous manner; and 
 death seemed to sit upon some of their eyebrows. 1 
 Now, there was in the company a notable sharp- 
 witted fellow, a mean man of estate, 
 and his name was old Inquisitive. 
 This man asked the petitioners if they had told 
 out every whit of what Emmanuel said. And they 
 answered, Verily, no. Then said Inquisitive, I 
 thought so, indeed. Pray, what was it more that 
 he said unto you ? Then they paused awhile; 
 but at last they brought out all, saying, The Prince 
 did bid us bid Captain Boanerges and Captain 
 Conviction bring the prisoners down to him to-mor¬ 
 row ; and that Captain Judgment and Captain 
 Execution should take charge of the castle and 
 town till they should hear further from him. They 
 said also that when the Prince had commanded 
 them thus to do, he immediately turned his back 
 upon them, and went into his royal pavillion. 
 
 But 0 how this return, and especially this last 
 clause of it, that the prisoners must go out to the 
 Prince into the camp, brake all their loins in 
 
 Old Inquisitive. 
 
 pieces ! Wherefore, with one voice, they set up a 
 
 * Conscience. 
 
 cry that reached up to the heavens. 2 This done, 
 each of the three prepared himself to die ; and the 
 Recorder* said unto them, This was 
 the thing that I feared ; for they con¬ 
 cluded that to-morrow, by that the sun went 
 down, they should be tumbled out of the world. 
 The whole town also counted of no other but that, 
 in their time and order, they must all drink of the 
 same cup. Wherefore the town of Mansoul spent 
 that night in mourning, and sackcloth, and ashes. 
 The prisoners also, when the time was come for 
 them to go down before the prince, dressed them¬ 
 selves in mourning attire, with ropes upon their 
 heads. 3 The whole town of Mansoul also showed 
 themselves upon the wall, all clad in mourning 
 
 1 See Grace Abounding , No. 210-212.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 ‘ O! how gladly now would I have been anybody but 
 myself, anything but a man, and in any condition but my own; 
 lor there was nothing did pass more frequently over my mind 
 than that it was impossible for me to be forgiven my trans¬ 
 gression, and to be saved from wrath to come .’—Grace Abound¬ 
 ing^ No. 149; see also No. 140 .—(Ed.) 
 
 weeds, if, perhaps, the Prince, with the sight 
 thereof, might be moved with compassion. But 
 0 how the busybodies * that were in * y a j a 
 the town of Mansoul did now concern thoughts, 
 themselves ! They did run here and there through 
 the streets of the town by companies, crying out 
 as they ran in tumultuous wise, one after one 
 manner, and another the quite contrary, to the 
 almost utter distraction of Mansoul. 
 
 Well, the time is come that the prisoners must 
 go down to the camp, and appear before the Prince. 
 And thus was the manner of their The prisoners 
 going down. Captain Boanerges went had t0 tnai - 
 with a guard before them, and Captain Conviction 
 came behind, and the prisoners went down bound 
 in chains in the midst; so, I say, the prisoners 
 went in the midst, and the guard went with flying 
 colours behind and before, but the prisoners went 
 with drooping spirits. 
 
 Or, more particularly, thus: 
 
 The prisoners went down all in mourning; they 
 put ropes upon themselves ; they 
 
 1 1 . . „ , . J How they went 
 
 went on smiting or themselves on 
 the breasts, but durst not lift up their eyes to 
 heaven. Thus they went out at the gate of Man¬ 
 soul, till they came into the midst of the Prince’3 
 army, the sight and glory of which did greatly 
 heighten their affliction. Nor could they now 
 longer forbear, but cry out aloud, 0 unhappy 
 
 men ! 0 wretched men of Mansoul ! Their chains 
 
 still mixing their dolorous notes with the cries of 
 
 the prisoners, made noise more lamentable. 1 
 
 So, when they were come to the door of the 
 Prince’s pavilion, they cast themselves prostrate 
 upon the place. Then one went in and told his 
 Lord that the prisoners were come down. The 
 Prince then ascended a throne of state, and sent 
 for the prisoners in; who when they came, did 
 tremble before him, also they covered their faces 
 with shame. Now as they drew near They M1 down 
 to the place where he sat, they threw prostrate be- 
 themselves down before him. Then 
 said the Prince to the Captain Boanerges, Bid the 
 prisoners stand upon their feet. Then they stood 
 trembling before him, and he said, Are you the 
 men that heretofore were the servants T hey are upon 
 of Sliaddai? And they said, Yes, their trial. 
 
 Lord, yes. Then said the Prince again, Are you 
 the men that did suffer yourselves to be corrupted 
 and defiled by that abominable one Diabolus ? And 
 they said. We did more than suffer it, Lord; for 
 
 3 I thought also of Benhadad’s servants, who went with 
 ropes upon their heads to their enemies for mercy. 1 Ki. xx. 31. 
 —Grace Abounding , No. 251.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 This godly sorrow was a prelude to joy unspeakable and 
 full of glory. This sort of weeping may endure for a night, 
 but joy cometh in the morning. They went forth weeping, 
 hearing precious seed, but were soon to return with joy, bring¬ 
 ing their sheaves with them.—(Border.) 
 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 303 
 
 Sins. 
 
 we chose it of our own mind. The Prince asked 
 further, saying, Could you have been content that 
 your slavery should have continued under his 
 tyranny as long as you had lived ? Then said the 
 prisoners, Yes, Lord, yes; for his ways were 
 pleasing to our flesh, and we were grown aliens 
 to a better state. And did you, said lie, when I 
 came up against this town of Mansoul, heartily 
 wish that I might not have the victory over you ? 
 Yes, Lord, yes, said they. Then said the Prince, 
 And what punishment is it, think you, that you 
 deserve at my hand for these and other your high 
 and mighty sins ? And they said, Both death 
 and the deep, * 1 * Lord ; for we have deserved no less, 
 lie asked again if they had ought to say for 
 themselves, why the sentence that they confessed 
 that they had deserved should not be passed upon 
 They condemn them? And they said, We can say 
 themselves. nothing, Lord; thou art just, for we 
 
 have sinned. Then said the Prince, And for what 
 are those ropes on your heads ? The prisoners 
 answered, these ropes* are to bind us 
 withal to the place of execution, if 
 mercy be not pleasing in thy sight. So he further 
 asked, if all the men in the town of Mansoul were 
 in this confession as they ? And they answered, 
 
 * Towers of the A11 the natives >* Lord; but for the 
 soul. Diabolonians f that came into our town 
 
 v Corruptions when the tyrant got possession of us, 
 and lusts. , i • n ,i 2 
 
 we can say nothing lor them." 
 
 Then the Prince commanded that a herald 
 
 a victory should be called, and that he should, 
 
 proclaimed. j n ^] ie and throughout the 
 
 camp of Emmanuel, proclaim, and that with sound 
 of trumpet, that the Prince, the Son of Shaddai, 
 had, in his Father’s name, and for his Father’s 
 glory, gotten a perfect conquest and victory over 
 Mansoul, and that the prisoners should follow him, 
 and say. Amen. So this was done as he had com- 
 Joy for the manded. And presently the music 
 wctory. that ^ as j n ^j ie U pp er region sounded 
 melodiously. The captains that were in the camp 
 shouted, and the soldiers did sing songs of triumph 
 to the Prince, the colours waved in the wind, and 
 great joy was everywhere, only it was wanting as 
 yet in the hearts of the men of Mansoul. 3 
 
 Then the Prince called for the prisoners to come 
 and to stand again before him, and 
 they came and stood trembling. And ^oneAan/are 
 lie said unto them. The sins, tres- procVa?m d ft d tn- 
 passes, iniquities, that you, with the ^ r 3 0 0 ^| “ 
 
 whole town of Mansoul, have from 
 time to time committed against my Father and 
 me, I have power and commandment from my 
 Father to forgive to the town of Mansoul ; and do 
 forgive you accordingly. And having so said, I 10 
 gave them written in parchment, and sealed with 
 seven seals, a large and general pardon, com¬ 
 manding both my Lord Mayor, my Lord Will-be- 
 will, and Mr. Recorder, to proclaim, and cause it 
 to be proclaimed to-morrow by that the sun is 
 up, throughout the whole town of Mansoul. 
 
 Moreover, the Prince stripped the prisoners of 
 
 their mourning weeds, and gave them . 
 
 ° ’ o Their rags are 
 
 ‘ beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for taken from 
 mourning, and the garment of praise 
 for the spirit of heaviness. ’ is. lxi. 3 . 
 
 Then he gave to each of the three, jewels of 
 gold, and precious stones, and took a strange aiter- 
 away their ropes, and put chains of atlun - 
 gold about their necks, and ear-rings in their ear3. 
 Now the prisoners, when they did hear the gracious 
 words of Prince Emmanuel, and had beheld all 
 that was done unto them, fainted almost quite 
 away; for the grace, the benefit, the pardon, was 
 sudden, glorious, and so big, that they were not 
 able, without staggering, to stand up under it. 4 
 Yea, my Lord Will-be-will swooned outright; but 
 the Prince stepped to him, put his everlasting arms 
 under him, embraced him, kissed him, and bid him 
 be of good cheer, for all should be performed ac¬ 
 cording to his word. He also did kiss, and embrace, 
 and smile upon the other two that were Will-be- 
 will’s companions, saying, Take these as further 
 tokens of my love, favour, and compassion to you ; 
 and I charge you, that you, Mr. Recorder, tell in 
 the town of Mansoul what you have heard and seen. 
 
 Then were their fetters broken to pieces be¬ 
 fore their faces, and cast into the 
 air, and their steps 5 were enlarged e 
 under them. Then they fell down at the feet of 
 the Prince, and kissed his feet, and wetted them 
 
 1 ‘Death and the deep;’ or bottomless pit .— (Ed.) 
 
 2 The distinction between inbred sins and the evil suggestions 
 of the enemy is very difficult to be drawn. The gold, silver, 
 and precious stones will be purified and polished; while the 
 wood, hay, and stubble will be burned up. 1 Co. iii. 12, 13. 
 The natives or powers of the soul are pardoned, while the cor¬ 
 ruptions and lusts are to be crucified. Reader, this is solemn, 
 searching heart-work.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 The work of conversion is accomplished—the heart taken ; 
 tie victory of Emmanuel over Mansoul is proclaimed; the 
 heavenly host rejoices; Diabolus is driven from the town, but 
 die King of glory has not yet entered—his gracious presence 
 is not yet felt in the soul; the gates are open; he will enter, 
 end will not tarry. Is this to show that Heart Castle is to be 
 
 prepared for him, after it has been occupied by internals? 
 * The preparation of the heart is with him/ and then comes 
 ‘the answer of the tongue/ Pr. xvi. 1 .—(Ed.) 
 
 4 I had such strange apprehensions of the grace of God that 
 
 I could hardly bear up under it; it was so out of measure 
 
 amazing, when I thought it could reach me, that I do think, 
 if that sense of it had abode long upon me, it would have made 
 me incapable of business .—Grace Abounding, No. 252.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 For the meaning of ‘ their steps were enlarged/ consult Ps. 
 xviii. 36, and Pr. iv. 12. It is here most admirably introduced. 
 After having been shut up and environed by the most distressing 
 fears and awful alarms of conscience, the soul is now at liberty, 
 
 and walks in peace; the Rock of ages supporting their hopes, 
 
 full of heavenly anticipations and holy enjoyments.— (Ed.; 
 
304 
 
 THE HOLY WAIL 
 
 with tears; also they cried out with a mighty 
 strong voice, saying, ‘ Blessed he the glory of the 
 Lord from this place. ’ Eze. m. 12 . So they were hid 
 rise up, and go to the town, and tell to Mansoul 
 what the Prince had done. He commanded also 
 
 They are sent that 0De a P’P e anc ^ tabor should 
 
 home with pipe go and play before them all the way 
 into the town of Mansoul. Then was 
 fulfilled what they never looked for, and they were 
 made to possess that which they never dreamed of. 1 
 „ , . _ . The Prince also called for the noble 
 
 Laptam Credence 
 
 guards them Captain Credence, and commanded 
 that he and some of his officers 
 should march before the noblemen of Mansoul 
 with flying colours into the town. He gave also 
 unto Captain Credence a charge, that 
 about that time that the Recorder did 
 read the general pardon in the town 
 of Mansoul, that at that very time he 
 should with flying colours march in 
 at Eyegate with his ten thousands at his feet, and 
 that he should go until he came by the high street 
 of the town, up to the castle gates, and that him¬ 
 self should take possession thereof against his 
 Lord came thither. He commanded, moreover, 
 that he should bid Captain Judgment and Captain 
 Execution to leave the strong hold to him, and to 
 withdraw from Mansoul, and to return into the 
 camp with speed unto the Prince. 
 
 And now was the town of Mansoul also delivered 
 from the terror of the first four captains and their 
 men. 2 
 
 When faith and 
 pardon meet 
 together, judg¬ 
 ment and exe¬ 
 cution depart 
 from the heart. 
 
 [Chapter IX.] 
 
 [Contents :—The liberated prisoners return to Mansoul, where 
 they are received with great joy—The inhabitants request 
 Emmanuel to take up his residence among them—He 
 consents—Makes a triumphal entry amid the shouts of 
 the people—The town is new modelled, and the image of 
 Shaddai erected.] 
 
 Well, I told you before how the prisoners were 
 entertained by the noble Prince Emmanuel, and 
 how they behaved themselves before him, and how 
 he sent them away to their home with pipe and 
 tabor going before them. And now you must 
 think that those of the town that had all this while 
 waited to hear of their death, could not but be 
 exercised with sadness of mind, and with thouojits 
 
 7 O 
 
 that pricked like thorns. Nor could their thoughts 
 be kept to any one point; the wind blew with them 
 
 1 What a change 1 ‘ When the Lord turned again the cap¬ 
 
 tivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. Then was our 
 mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing; then 
 6aid they among the heathen, The Lord hath done great things 
 for them. Who is like unto thee, pardoning iniquity, trans¬ 
 gression, and sin ? Blessed is he whose transgression is for¬ 
 given, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man to whom the 
 Lord imputeth not iniquity. Blessed is the man to whom God 
 imputeth righteousness without works.’ Bo. iv. 6.—(Burder) 
 
 all this while at great uncertainties, yea, their 
 hearts were like a balance that had been disquieted 
 with a shaking hand. But at last, a3 they with 
 many a long look looked over the wall of Mansoul, 
 they thought that they saw some returning to the 
 town ; and thought again, Who should they be too, 
 who should they be ! At last they discerned that 
 they were the prisoners ; but can you imagine how 
 their hearts were surprised with wonder, especially 
 when they perceived also in what equipage and with 
 what honour they were sent home ? They went 
 down to the camp in black, but they came back to 
 the town in white; they went down a strange aiter- 
 to the camp in ropes, they came back atlon ' 
 in chains of gold; they went down to the camp 
 with their feet in fetters, but came back with their 
 steps enlarged under them ; they went also to the 
 camp looking for death, but they came back from 
 thence with assurance of life; they went down to 
 the camp with heavy hearts, but came back again 
 with pipe and tabor playing before them. So, so 
 soon as they were come to Eyegate, the poor and tot¬ 
 tering town of Mansoul adventured to give a shout, 
 and they gave such a shout as made the captains 
 in the Prince’s army leap at the sound thereof. 
 
 Alas for them, poor hearts ! who could blame 
 them, since their dead friends were come to life 
 again ? for it was to them as life from the dead, 
 to see the ancients of the town of Mansoul to 
 shine in such splendour. They looked for nothing 
 but the axe and the block; but behold, joy and 
 gladness, comfort and consolation, and such melo¬ 
 dious notes attending of them that Avas sufficient 
 to make a sick man well. So when they came up, 
 they saluted each other with Welcome! welcome! 
 and blessed be he that has spared you. is. xxxiii. 24. 
 They added also, We see it is well Avith you, but 
 how must it go with the town of Mansoul ? and, 
 Will it go Avell Avith the town of Mansoul ? said 
 
 they. Then answered them the Re- conscience. The 
 corder and my Lord Mayor, 0 tidings! understanding. 
 
 glad tidings ! good tidings of good and of great 
 joy to poor Mansoul ! Then they gave another 
 shout that made the earth to ring again. After 
 this they inquired yet more particularly how things 
 Avent in the camp, and what message they had from 
 Emmanuel to the town, So they told them all 
 passages that had happened to them at the camp, 
 and everything that the Prince did to them. This 
 made Mansoul Avonder at the Avisdom and grace of 
 the Prince Emmanuel. Then they told them Avhat 
 they had received at his hands for the whole toAvn 
 
 2 ‘There is no condemnation to them that are in Christ 
 Jesus.’ The lour captains no longer denounce the wrath of 
 God; the end of their ministry is accomplished, and their 
 awful speeches are no more heard. This is well expressed in 
 the margin. When faith and pardon meet together, judgment 
 and execution depart from the heart.—(Burder.) 
 
TIIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 305 
 
 of Mansoul; and the Recorder delivered it in these 
 o the joy of words— Pardon, Pardon, Pardon for 
 pardon oi sm! ]\Iansoul; and this shall Mansoul know 
 to-morrow. Then he commanded, and they went 
 and summoned Mansoul to meet together in the 
 market-place to-morrow, there to hear their general 
 pardon read. 
 
 But who can think what a turn, what a chan ire, 
 
 what an alteration this hint of things did make 
 
 in the countenance of the town of Mansoul! No 
 
 man of Mansoul could sleep that night for jo\ r ; x 
 
 in every house there was joy and music, singing 
 
 Town-talk of the and making merry, telling and hearing 
 
 King’s mercy. 0 f Mansoul’s happiness, was then all 
 
 that Mansoul had to do; and this was the burden 
 
 of all their song—0, more of this at the rising of 
 
 the sun ! more of this to-morrow ! Who thought 
 
 yesterday, would one say, that this day would have 
 
 been such a day to us ? And who thought, that 
 
 saw our prisoners go down in irons, that they would 
 
 have returned in chains of gold ! yea, they that 
 
 judged themselves as they went to be judged of 
 
 their judge, were by his mouth acquitted, not for 
 
 that they were innocent, but of the Prince’s mercy, 
 
 and sent home with pipe and tabor. But is this the 
 
 common custom of princes ? do they use to show 
 
 such kind of favours to traitors ? No! this is onlv 
 
 «/ 
 
 peculiar to Shaddai, and unto Emmanuel his Son. 2 
 
 Now morning drew on apace, wherefore the Lord 
 Mayor, the Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder 
 came down to the market-place at the time that 
 the Prince had appointed, where the townsfolk 
 were waiting for them ; and when they came, they 
 came in that attire and in that glory that the 
 Prince had put them into the day before, and the 
 street was lightened with their glory. So the 
 Mayor, Recorder, and my Lord Will-be-will drew 
 down to Mouthgate, which was at the lower end 
 of the market-place, because that of old time was 
 the place where they used to read public matters. 
 Thither therefore they came in their robes, and 
 their tab ret went before them. Now the eager¬ 
 ness of the people to know the full of the matter 
 was great. 
 
 Then the Recorder stood up upon his feet, and 
 The manner of ^ rst beckoning with his hand for a 
 pardon tlie sx ^ ence > he rea d out with loud voice the 
 pardon. But when he came to these 
 
 1 Reader, have you experienced this holy joy, * unspeakable, 
 and full of glory ?’ "What can we render to God for such a 
 blessing. Our light afflictions, which grind us to the earth, 
 are but for a moment in comparison with ‘ an eternal weight 
 of glory.’ ‘The inhabitants shall not say, I am sick;’ there is 
 no cause of sickness or pain, for they are * forgiven their ini¬ 
 quity.’ Is. xxxiii. 24 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Man bestows favours on the most worthy, but God extends 
 mercy to enemies, rebels, and beggars; whom he strips of 
 their filthy rags of pride and self-righteousness, blots out their 
 sins by the blood of his cross, and arrays with the best robe of 
 salvation.—(Mason.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 words, ‘ The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and 
 gracious, pardoning iniquity, transgression, and 
 sin, ’ Ex. xxxiv. e; and to these, ‘ all manner of sin 
 and blasphemy shall be forgiven,’ &c., Mar. m. 28; 
 they could not forbear but leap for joy. For this 
 you must know, that there was conjoined herewith 
 every man’s name in Mansoul; also the seals of 
 the pardon made a brave show. 3 
 
 When the Recorder had made an end of reading 
 the pardon, the townsmen ran up upon ^ ow t i iev tread 
 the walls of the town, and leaped and upon the flesh, 
 skipped thereon for joy; and bowed themselves 
 seven times with their faces towards Emmanuel’s 
 pavilion, and shouted out aloud for joy, and said, 
 Let Emmanuel live for ever! Then order was 
 given to the young men in Mansoul, Lively and warm 
 that they should ring the bells for joy. thoughts. 
 
 So the bells did ring, and the people sing, and 
 the music go in every house in Mansoul. 4 
 
 When the Prince had sent home the three pri¬ 
 soners of Mansoul with joy, and pipe, and tabor; 
 he commanded his captains, with all The carriage of 
 
 the field-officers and soldiers through- the caiu P’ 
 
 © 
 
 out his army, to be ready in that morning that the 
 Recorder should read the pardon in Mansoul, to 
 do his further pleasure. So the morning, as I 
 have showed, being come, just as the Recorder 
 had made an end of reading the pardon, Emman¬ 
 uel commanded that all the trumpets in the camp 
 should sound, that the colours should be displayed, 
 half of them upon Mount Gracious, and half of 
 them upon Mount Justice. 5 6 He commanded also 
 that all the captains should show themselves in all 
 their harness, and that the soldiers should shout 
 for joy. Nor was Captain Credence, Faith will not 
 though in the castle, silent in such a Manloffl^u 
 day, but he, from the top of the hold, saved - 
 showed himself with sound of trumpet to Mansoul, 
 and to the Prince’s camp. 
 
 Thus have I showed you the manner and way 
 that Emmanuel took to recover the town of Man¬ 
 soul from under the hand and power of the tyrant 
 Diabolus. 
 
 Now when the Prince had completed these, the 
 outward ceremonies of his joy, he again commanded 
 that his captains and soldiers should . 
 
 The Prince dis- 
 
 show unto Mansoul some feats of war. plays his graces 
 So they presently addressed them- bctore Mansoul - 
 selves to this work. But 0, with what agility, 
 
 3 ‘ Sealed with the Holy Spirit ’ to the day of redemption, 
 to show forth faith by works * with meekness of wisdom ’—a 
 brave show; see Ep. i. 13; iv. 30. Ja. ii. 18; iii. 13. — (Ed.) 
 
 4 O pardoued sinner, how can you sufficiently magnify the 
 
 exceeding riches of Divine grace 1 In vain the sold attempts 
 to measure the breadth and length, the depth and height, of 
 the love of Christ; it surpasseth knowledge.—(Burder.) 
 
 6 During the siege, the flags were unfurled one at a time, 
 beginning with mercy, and ending with judgment; but now ' 
 mercy and truth are met together, righteousness and peace 
 have kissed each oilier. Ps. lxxxv. 10. — (Ed.) 
 
 39 
 

 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 
 1 j I, 
 
 is-: 
 
 J 
 
 9 
 
 t 
 
 '*»*■ 
 
 ni’»r» 
 
 
 i fie 
 
 
 nimbleness, dexterity, and bravery did these mili¬ 
 tary men discover their skill in feats of Avar to the 
 now o-azino- town of Mansoul! 
 
 o o 
 
 They marched, they counter-marched, they 
 opened to the right and left, they divided and sub¬ 
 divided, they closed, they wheeled, made good 
 their front and rear with their right and left wings, 
 and twenty things more, Avitli that aptness, and 
 
 They are ravished ^ ien were aS ^7 Were a ® ain ’ ^at 
 at "the sight of they took, yea, ravished the hearts* 
 
 that Avere in Mansoul to behold it. 
 But add to this, the handling of their arms, the 
 managing of their weapons of Avar, Avere marvel¬ 
 lous taking to Mansoul and me. 1 
 
 When this action was over, the whole tOAvn of 
 Mansoul came out as one man to the Prince in the 
 camp to thank him, and praise him for his abun¬ 
 dant favour, and to beg that it Avould please his 
 They be"- that g race to come unto Mansoul Avitli his 
 
 the Prince and men, and there to take up their quar- 
 his men will „ . . . ,, .. . . 
 
 dwell with ters for ever. And this they did in 
 them foi evei. mog j. manner, bowing them¬ 
 
 selves seven times to the ground before him. Then 
 said he, All peace be to you. So the tOAvn came 
 nigh, and touched with the hand the top of his 
 golden sceptre, and they said, 0 that the Prince 
 Emmanuel, with his captains and men of Avar, 
 Avould dtvell in Mansoul for ever ; and that his 
 battering rams and slings might be lodged in her 
 for the use and service of the Prince, and for the 
 help and strength of Mansoul. ‘ For,’ said they, ‘ Ave 
 have room for thee, Ave have room for thy men, we 
 have also room for thy weapons of war, and a place 
 to make a magazine for thy carriages. Do it, 
 
 Say, and hold to Emmanuel, and thou shalt be King 
 it, Mansoul. an q Q a pt a i n j n Mansoul for ever. Yea, 
 
 govern thou also according to all the desire of thy 
 soul, and make thou governors and princes under 
 thee of thy captains and men of war, and Ave will 
 become thy servants, and thy laAvs shall be our 
 direction.’ 
 
 They added, moreover, and prayed his Majesty 
 to consider thereof; ‘ for,’ said they, ‘ if iioav, after 
 all this grace bestowed upon us thy miserable town 
 of Mansoul, thou shouldest Avithdraw, thou and 
 thy captains from us, the toAAm of Mansoul will 
 die. 2 Yea,’ said they, ‘ our blessed Emmanuel, if 
 tliou shouldest depart from us uoav thou hast done 
 so much good for us, and showed so much mercy 
 unto us; Avhat Avill follow hut that our joy will be 
 as if it had not been, and our enemies Avill a second 
 time come upon us with more rage than at the 
 
 1 ‘And me,’ shows the personal interest of the author in 
 this soul’s conflict with the prince of darkness. The war is to 
 be carried on, therefore must Mansoul learn the art of war, 
 and see the King in his beauty, glory, and power, that he may 
 . have confidence in him. Christ, by faith, dwells in the heart, 
 and all is rapture and ecstacy; and they, for a time, see nothing 
 of the Diabolonians who yet lurked in their walls.— (Ed.) 
 
 first. Wherefore, we beseech thee, 0 thou the 
 desire of our eyes, and the strength and life of our 
 poor tOAvn, accept of this motion that now Ave have 
 made unto our Lord, and come and dAvell in the 
 
 Besides, 
 
 Their fears. 
 
 The Prince’s 
 question to 
 Mansoul. 
 
 midst of us, and let us be thy people. 
 
 Lord, Ave do not knoAv but that to this 
 day many Diabolonians may be yet 
 lurking in the town of Mansoul, and they will 
 betray us Avhen thou shalt leave us, into the hand 
 of Diabolus again ; and Avho knows Avhat designs, 
 plots, or contrivances have passed bettvixt them 
 about these things already; loth Ave are to fall 
 again into his horrible hands. Wherefore, let it 
 please thee to accept of our palace for thy place of 
 residence, and of the houses of the best men in 
 our tOAvn for the reception of thy soldiers, and 
 their furniture.’ 3 
 
 Then said the Prince, ‘If I come to your tOAvn, 
 will you suffer me further to prosecute 
 that which is in mine heart against 
 mine enemies and yours, yea, will you 
 help me in such undertakings?’ 
 
 They answered, ‘ We know not what Ave shall 
 do; Ave did not think once that, we 
 should have been such traitors to Their answer ' 
 Shaddai as Ave have proved to be ; Avhat then shall 
 we say to our Lord ? Let him put no trust in his 
 saints, let the Prince dwell in our castle, and make 
 of our tOAvn a garrison, let him set his noble cap¬ 
 tains, and his warlike soldiers over us. Yea, let 
 him conquer us with his love, and overcome us 
 Avith his grace, and then surely shall he be but 
 with us, and help us, as he Avas, and did that 
 morning that our pardon Avas read unto us, Ave 
 shall comply with this, our Lord, and with his 
 Avays, and fall in with his Avord against the 
 mighty. 
 
 ‘ One word more, and thy servants have done, 
 and in this will trouble our Lord no more. We 
 know not the depth of the Avisdom of thee our 
 Prince. Who could have thought that had been 
 ruled by his reason, that so much s\\met as Ave do 
 iioav enjoy should have come out of those bitter ( 
 trials AvhereAvith Ave Avere tried at the first? but, 
 Lord, let light go before, and let love come after; 
 yea, take us by the hand, and lead us by thy 
 counsels, and let this always abide upon us, that 
 all things shall be for the best for thy servants, 
 and come to our Mansoul, and do as it pleaseth 
 thee. Or, Lord, come to our Mansoul, do what 
 
 2 This is the fear which, is the beginning of wisdom, arising 
 from a sense of total dependence upon the Lord for spiritual 
 strength; a fear of losing his presence. ‘ Hold up my goings 
 that my footsteps slip not.’ Ps. xvii. 5.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 * Eurniture,’ as an old military term, means warlike equip¬ 
 ments. 
 
 * To deedes of armes and proof of cliivalrie, 
 
 They gan themselues addresse, full rich aguiz’d, 
 
 As each one had his furniture deviz’d.’—Spencer.—(E d.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR 
 
 307 
 
 come in to¬ 
 morrow. 
 
 tliou wilt, so tliou keepest us from sinning, and 
 makest us serviceable to thj majesty.’ 1 
 
 Then said the Prince to the town of Mansoul 
 , , attain, ‘ Go, return to your houses in 
 
 ITe consenteth 0 t *11 *n* -i • , • . 
 
 to dwell in peace, 1 will willingly in tins comply 
 
 promiseth ^to with your desires. I will remove my 
 
 royal pavilion, I will draw up my 
 forces before Eyegate to-morrow, and 
 so will march forwards into the town of Mansoul. 
 I will possess myself of your castle of Mansoul, 
 and will set my soldiers over you ; yea, I will yet 
 do things in Mansoul that cannot be paralleled in 
 any nation, country or kingdom under heaven.’ 
 
 Then did the men of Mansoul give a shout, and 
 returned unto their houses in peace; they also told 
 to their kindred and friends the good that Em¬ 
 manuel had promised to Mansoul. And to-mor¬ 
 row, said they, he will march into our town, and 
 take up his dwelling, he and his men in Mansoul. 
 
 Then went out the inhabitants of the town of 
 
 MansouTs pre- ^ ansou l with haste to the green trees, 
 
 paration <or and to the meadows, to gather boughs 
 I113 reception. . , . . 0 
 
 and flowers, therewith to strew the 
 streets against their Prince, the Son of Shaddai, 
 should come; they also made garlands, and other 
 fine works, to betoken how joyful they were, and 
 should be to receive their Emmanuel into Mansoul; 
 yea, they strewed the street quite from Eyegate 
 to the Castle-gate, the place where the Prince 
 should be. They also prepared for his coming 
 what music the town of Mansoul would afford, that 
 they might play before him to the palace, his 
 habitation. 
 
 So, at the time appointed, he makes his approach 
 to Mansoul, and the gates were set open for him,, 
 there also the ancients and elders of Mansoul met 
 him, to salute him with a thousand welcomes. 
 Then he arose and entered Mansoul, he and all his 
 servants. The elders of Mansoul did also go 
 dancing before him till he came to the castle gates. 
 
 He enters the And ^ 11S WaS manner °f his going 
 
 town of Man- up thither. He was clad in his golden 
 soul, and how. 1 . .... 1 i • , 
 
 armour, he rode m Ins royal chariot, 
 
 the trumpets sounded about him, the colours were 
 displayed, his ten thousands went up at his feet, 
 and the elders of Mansoul danced before him. 2 
 And now were the walls of the famous town of 
 Mansoul filled with the tramplings of the inhabi¬ 
 tants thereof, who went up thither to view the 
 
 A Tliis is the language of first love ; but let the caution in 
 the margin be noticed, ‘Say, and hold to it, Mansoul.’ Happy, 
 indeed, are those who continue in this sood mind all their days! 
 Alas 1 the sequel of the stcry shows how changeable a creature 
 is man.—(Burder.) "Without Christ we can do nothing. Jn. 
 xv. 5.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 When the glory of Christ’s person and work is clearly 
 manifested, the renewed soul, transported with joy at the sight, 
 liuds him to he the fairest among ten thousand fair, and 
 altogether lovely.—(Mason.) 
 
 The townsmen 
 covet who shall 
 have most of 
 the soldiers 
 that belong to 
 the Prince. 
 
 approach of the blessed Prince, and bis royal army. 
 Also the casements, windows, balconies, and tops 
 of the bouses were all now filled with persons of 
 all sorts to behold bow their town was to be filled 
 with good. 3 
 
 Now when he was come so far into the town as 
 to the Recorder’s house, lie commanded that one 
 should go to Captain Credence, to know whether 
 the castle of Mansoul was prepared to entertain 
 his Royal Presence, for the preparation of that 
 was left to that Captain, and word was brought 
 that it was. 4 Ac. xv. 9 . Then was Captain Credence 
 commanded also to come forth with his power to 
 meet the Prince, the which was, as he had com¬ 
 manded, done, and he conducted him into the 
 castle. 4 Ep. iii. 17. This done, the Prince that night 
 did lodge in the castle with his mighty captains 
 and men of war, to the joy of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Now the next care of the townsfolk was bow 
 the captains and soldiers of the Prince’s army 
 should be quartered among them, and the care was 
 not how they should shut their hands 
 of them, but bow they should fill their 
 houses with them; for every man in 
 Mansoul now had that esteem of Em¬ 
 manuel and his men, that nothing 
 grieved them more than because they were not 
 enlarged enough, every one of them to receive the 
 whole army of the Prince, yea, they counted it 
 their glory to be waiting upon them, and would in 
 those days run at their bidding like lacqueys. At 
 last they came to this result:— 
 
 1. That Captain Innocency should quarter at 
 Mr. Reason’s. 2. That Captain Pa- How they were 
 tience should quarter at Mr. Mind’s. 
 
 This Mr. Mind was formerly the Lord 
 Will-be-will’s clerk, in time of the late rebellion. 
 3. It was ordered that Captain Charity should 
 quarter at Mr. Affection’s house. 4. That Cap¬ 
 tain Goodhope should quarter at my Lord Mayor’s. 
 Now for the house of the Recorder, himself de¬ 
 sired, because his house was next to the castle, 
 and because from him it was ordered by the Prince, 
 that, if need he, the alarm should be given to 
 Mansoul; it was, I say, desired by him that Cap¬ 
 tain Boanerges and Captain Conviction should 
 take up their quarters with him, even they and all 
 their men. 5. As for Captain Judgment, and 
 Captain Execution, my Lord Will-be-will took 
 them, and their men to him, because he was to 
 rule under the Prince for the good of the town of 
 
 quartered m 
 the town ot 
 Mansoul. 
 
 3 Well may the soul rejoice when Jesus comes to dwell in it. 
 * If a man love me, be will keep my words; and my Father 
 will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode 
 with him.’ Jn. xiv. 23.—(Burder.) 
 
 4 Throughout this war, Credence or Faith is never lost sight 
 of. Here we have exemplified the scripture maxim, ‘That 
 Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith.’ Ep.iii, 17- Puri¬ 
 fying your hearts by faith. Ac. xv. 9.— (Ed.) 
 
SOS 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
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 M 
 
 Mansoul now, as he had before, under the tyrant 
 Diabolus for the hurt and damage thereof. Ro. vi. 19. 
 Ep. iii. 17. 6. And throughout the rest of the town 
 
 were quartered Emmanuel’s forces, but Captain 
 Credence with his men abode still in the castle. 
 So the Prince, his captains, and his soldiers were 
 lodged in the town of Mansoul. 1 
 
 Now the ancients and elders of the town of 
 Mansoul in- Mansoul thought that they never 
 their^ Prince should have enough of the Prince' 
 Emmanuel. Emmanuel; his person, his actions, 
 
 his words, and behaviour, were so pleasing, so 
 taking, so desirable to them. Wherefore, they 
 prayed him, that though the castle of Mansoul 
 was his place of residence, and they desired that 
 lie might dwell there for ever, yet that he would 
 often visit the streets, houses, and people of Man¬ 
 soul. For, said they, dread Sovereign, thy pre¬ 
 sence, thy looks, thy smiles, thy words, are the life, 
 and strength, and sinews of the town of Mansoul." 
 
 O 7 
 
 Besides this, they craved that they might have, 
 They have ac- without difficulty or interruption, con- 
 cess unto him. tinual access unto him, so for that 
 very purpose he commanded that the gates should 
 stand open, that they might there see the manner 
 of his doings, the fortifications of the place, and 
 the royal mansion-house of the Prince. When he 
 They learn of spake they all stopped their mouths, 
 k™ 1 3 and gave audience ; and when he 
 walked, it was their delight to imitate him in his 
 goings. 
 
 Now upon a time Emmanuel made a feast for 
 the town of Mansoul, and upon the feasting-day 
 the townsfolk were come to the castle to partake 
 of his banquet. And he feasted them with all 
 manner of outlandish-food, food that grew not in 
 the fields of Mansoul, nor in all the whole kingdom 
 of Universe. It was food that came from his 
 Promise after Father’s court, and so there was dish 
 promise. after dish set before them, and they 
 were commanded freely to eat. But still when a 
 fresh dish was set before them, they would whis- 
 peringly say to each other, What is it ? 3 Ex. xvi. is. 
 For they wist not what to call it. They drank 
 also of the water that was made wine; and were 
 Brave enter- very merry with him. There was 
 tainment. music also all the while at the table, 
 
 1 Much, judgment is displayed in this distribution of the 
 soldiers, particularly in quartering Boanerges and Conviction in 
 the house of Conscience.—(Burder.) 
 
 2 The convert’s anxious desire is, that Emmanuel should not 
 only reign in the heart or castle, hut also visit and govern the 
 head or judgment, and all the powers of the soul.—(E d.) 
 
 3 * What is itthe meaniug of the word manna, putin the 
 margin of the Bible.—(E d.) 
 
 4 These sweet views of Christ, and the comforts of his Spirit, 
 are not uncommon at the soul’s espousals to him after conver¬ 
 
 sion, when he brings her iuto his banqueting-liouse; and his 
 
 banner over her is love. Ca. ii. 4.—(Mason.) 
 
 This is the gospel feast—a feast of fat things, meat indeed, 
 
 and man did eat angels’ food, and had honey given 
 him out of the rock. So Mansoul did eat the food 
 that was peculiar to the court, yea, they had now 
 thereof to the full. 4 Ps. lxxviii. 24 , 25. 
 
 I must not forget to tell you that as at this 
 table there were musicians, so they were not those 
 of the country, nor yet of the town of Mansoul; 
 but they were the masters of the songs that were 
 sung at the court of Shaddai. 5 
 
 Now after the feast was over, Emmanuel was 
 
 for entertaining the town of Mansoul 
 ., . . ,,, e , Riddles. 
 
 with some curious riddles or secrets 
 drawn up by his Father’s secretary, by the skill 
 and wisdom of Shaddai; the like to these there is 
 not in any kingdom. These riddles The Holy Scrip- 
 were made upon the King Shaddai tures- 
 himself, and upon Emmanuel his Son, and upon 
 his wars and doings with Mansoul. 
 
 Emmanuel also expounded unto them some of 
 those riddles himself, but 0 how they were light¬ 
 ened ! They saw what they never saw, they could 
 not have thought that such rarities could have been 
 couched in so few and such ordinary words. I 
 told you before whom these riddles did concern; 
 and as they were opened, the people did evidently 
 see it was so. Yea, they did gather that the 
 things themselves were a kind of portraiture, and 
 that of Emmanuel himself; for when they 7 read in 
 the scheme where the riddles were writ, and looked 
 in the face of the Prince, things looked so like the 
 one to the other that Mansoul could not forbear 
 but say, This is the Lamb, this is the Sacrifice, 
 this is the Rock, this is the Red Cow, this i3 the 
 Door, and this is the way; with a great many 
 other things more. 6 
 
 And thus he dismissed the town of Mansoul. 
 But can you imagine how the people of the cor¬ 
 poration were taken with this entertainment ? 0 
 
 they were transported with joy, they T he end of that 
 were drowned with wonderment, while banquet, 
 they saw and understood, and considered what 
 their Emmanuel entertained them withal, and what 
 mysteries he opened to them; and when they were 
 at home in their houses, and in their most retired 
 places, they could not but sing of him, and of his 
 actions. Yea, so taken were the townsmen now 
 with their Prince, that they would sing of him in 
 their sleep. 
 
 and drink indeed; not of nature, but from heaven. The music 
 is such as saints and angels sing before the throne; the word 
 of Christ, in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.—(Burder.) 
 
 6 Bunyan was fond of introducing spiritual riddles in godly 
 company, and it must have been a very profitable pastime. The 
 types of Christ in the Old Testament are excellent riddles. 
 So when the Pilgrims are entertained by Gaius, nuts and riddles- 
 are introduced. 
 
 ‘ Hard texts are nuts (I will not call them cheaters), 
 
 Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters. 
 
 Ope then the shells, and you shall have the meat, 
 
 They here are brought for you to crack and eat.’ 
 
 Care being taken not to spoil tender teeth in cracking them. 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 309 
 
 Now it was in the heart of the Prince Emmanuel 
 % to new model the town of Mansoul, and 
 
 be new model- to put it into such a condition as might 
 be more pleasing to him, and that 
 might best stand with the profit and security of 
 the now flourishing town of Mansoul. He provided 
 also against insurrections at home, and invasions 
 from abroad ; such love had he for the famous town 
 of Mansoul. Wherefore he first of all commanded 
 The instruments that the great slings that were brought 
 ^ of war mounted. f roin y s Father’s court, when he came 
 
 to the war of Mansoul, should be mounted, some 
 upon the battlements of the castle, some upon the 
 towers, for there were towers in the town of Man¬ 
 soul, towers new built by Emmanuel since he came 
 thither. 1 There was also an instrument invented 
 A nameless ter- by Emmanuel, that was to throw 
 ment in'Mai!- stones from the castle of Mansoul, out 
 sou1, at Mouthgate; an instrument that 
 
 could not be resisted, nor that would miss of execu¬ 
 tion ; wherefore for the wonderful exploits that it 
 did when used, it went without a name, and it was 
 committed to the care of, and to be managed by 
 the brave captain, the Captain Credence, in case 
 of war. 2 
 
 This done, Emmanuel called the Lord Will-be- 
 Lord wni-be- will to him, and gave him in command- 
 viii promoted. men ^ take care of the gates, the 
 
 wall, and towers in Mansoul. Also the Prince 
 gave him the militia into his hand; and a special 
 charge to withstand all insurrections and tumults 
 that might be made in Mansoul, against the peace 
 of our Lord the King, and the peace and tranquillity 
 of the town of Mansoul. He also gave him in 
 commission, that if he found any of the Diaboloni- 
 ans lurking in any corner in the famous town of 
 Mansoul, he should forthwith apprehend them, and 
 stay them, or commit them to safe custody, that 
 they may be proceeded against according to law. 
 Then he called unto him the Lord Understand- 
 
 My Lord Mayor ing, who was the old Lord-mayor, he 
 put into place. ^hat wag p U ^ ou j. 0 f p] ace w hen Dia- 
 
 bolus took the town, and put him into his former 
 office again, and it became his place for his life¬ 
 time. He bid him also that he should build him 
 a palace near Eyegate, and that he should build 
 it in fashion like a tower for defence. He bid him 
 also that he should read in the revelation of mys¬ 
 teries 3 all the days of his life, that he might know 
 
 1 The slings are books of Scripture; see the margin at p. 286, 
 probably referring to the epistles of the New Testament. 
 These are powerful instruments, both defensive and offensive, 
 when properly mounted upon a renewed heart and mental 
 powers.^— (Ed ) 
 
 2 Hoes this nameless engine at Mouthgate mean prayer? 
 The unseen prayer of faith has performed wonderful exploits. 
 The silent ejaculations of the heart, the ‘ groanings which can¬ 
 not be uttered.’—( Ed.) 
 
 3 The Bible, the only guide to all, but especially to my Lord 
 
 Mayor, ‘the understanding.’— (Ed.) 
 
 how to perform his office aright. He also made 
 Mr. Knowledge the Recorder ; not of Mr. Knowledge 
 contempt to old Mr. Conscience, who made Recorder. 
 
 had been Recorder before; but for that it was in 
 his princely mind to confer upon Mr. Conscience 
 another employ; of which he told the old gentle¬ 
 man he should know more hereafter. 
 
 Then he commanded that the image of Diabolus 
 should be taken down from the place where it was 
 set up, and that they should destroy Theiraageofthe 
 it utterly, beating of it into powder, Prince and his 
 
 . " . ° i • , Father set up 
 
 anu casting it unto the wind, without again in Man- 
 
 the town-wall; and that the image suu1 ' 
 of Shaddai his Father should be set up again, with 
 his own, upon the castle gates, and that it should 
 be more fairly drawn than ever; forasmuch as both 
 his Father and himself were come to Mansoul in 
 more grace and mercy than heretofore. Re. xxii. 4. 
 He would also that his name should be fairly en¬ 
 graven upon the front of the town, and that it 
 should be done in the best of gold, for the honour 
 of the town of Mansoul. 4 
 
 [Chapter X.] 
 
 [Contents :—The strongholds of Diabolus destroyed—Incre¬ 
 dulity, Forget-good, Dustings, and other Diabolonians, ap¬ 
 prehended, tried, and executed, to the great joy of Man¬ 
 soul.] 
 
 After this was done, Emmanuel gave out a 
 commandment that those three great Diabolonians 
 should be apprehended ; namely, the two late Lord 
 Mayors ; to wit, Mr. Incredulity, Mr. Lustings, and 
 Mr. Forget-good the Recorder. Besides these, 
 there were some of them that Diabolus made 
 burgesses and aldermen in Mansoul, that were 
 committed to ward by the hand of the now valiant, 
 and now right noble, the brave Lord Will-be-will. 
 And these were their names, Alder- 
 man Atheism, Alderman Hardlieart, a ns committed 
 and Alderman Falsepeace. The bur- the hand ofM 6 / 
 gesses were Mr. Notruth, Mr. Pitiless, True-mau the 
 Mr. Haughty, with the like. These etpt1- 
 were committed to close custody; and the jailer’s 
 name was Mr. Trueman; this Trueman was one 
 of those that Emmanuel brought with him from 
 his Father’s court, when at the first he made a 
 war upon Diabolus in the town of Mansoul. 
 
 After this, the Prince gave a charge that the 
 three strong holds, that at the com- 
 mand of Diabolus the Diabolonians strong holds 
 built in Mansoul, should be demolished, pulltd d °" n " 
 and utterly pulled down ; of which holds and their 
 names, with their captains and governors, you read 
 
 4 The understanding is chief magistrate directed by the study 
 of the Scriptures i knowledge of God in Christ, is to bear 
 sway, another office being appointed for Conscience; the image 
 of Satan is to be utterly destroyed, and that of God renewed 
 in the soul.—(Burder.) 
 
310 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 a little before. But this was long in doing, because 
 of the largeness of the places, and because the 
 stones, the timber, the iron, and all rubbish, was 
 to be carried without the town. 1 
 
 When this was done, the Prince gave order that 
 
 A court to be ^ ie ^ord Mayor and Aldermen of 
 
 called to try the Mansoul should call a court of judi- 
 Diabolonians. „ . , . . , ,. e 
 
 cature for the trial and execution of 
 the Diabolonians in the corporation, now under the 
 charge of Mr. Trueman the jailer. 
 
 Now when the time was come, and the court 
 . set, commandment was sent to Mr. 
 
 the prisoners ’ 
 
 brought to the Trueman the jailer, to bring the 
 prisoners down to the bar. Then were 
 the prisoners brought down, pinioned, and chained 
 together, as the custom of the town of Mansoul 
 was. So when they were presented before the 
 Lord Mayor, the Recorder, and the rest of the 
 honourable bench, first, the jury was impanelled, 
 The jury im- and then the witnesses sworn. The 
 the 6 witnesses names of the jury were these; Mr. 
 sworn. Belief, Mr. Trueheart, Mr. Upright, 
 
 Mr. Iiatebad, Mr. Lovegod, Mr. Seetruth, Mr. 
 Ileavenly-mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thankful, Mr. 
 Goodwork, Mr. Zeal-for-God, and Mr. Humble. 2 * * * 
 The names of the witnesses were Mr. Knowall, 
 Mr. Telltrue, Mr. Hatelies, with my Lord Will- 
 be-will and his man, if need were. 
 
 So the prisoners were set to the bar; then said 
 Doright the Mr. Doright, for he was the town- 
 cierk. clerk, Set Atheism to the bar, jailer. 
 So he was set to the bar. Then said the clerk, 
 
 Atheism set to Atheism, hold up thy hand. Thou art 
 the bar; his in- here indicted by the name of Atheism, 
 an intruder upon the town of Mansoul, 
 for that thou hast perniciously and doultishly taught 
 and maintained that there is no God; and so no 
 heed to be taken to religion. This thou hast done 
 against the being, honour, and glory of the King, 
 and against the peace and safety of the town of 
 Mansoul. What sayest thou, art thou guilty of 
 this indictment, or not? 
 
 His plea. ATHEISM. Not guilty. 
 
 Crier. Call Mr. Knowall, Mr. Telltrue, and Mr. 
 Hatelies, into the court. So they were called, and 
 they appeared. 
 
 Clerk. Then said the Clerk, You, the witnesses 
 for the King, look upon the prisoner at the bar; do 
 you know him? 
 
 Know. Then said Mr. Knowall, Yes, my Lord, 
 we know him, his name is Atheism ; he has been 
 
 1 What a work of labour and time is here set to Mansoul. 
 The strongholds of Satan are to be pulled down, and all the 
 materials of which they were constructed are to be clean re¬ 
 moved out of the town. This can only be effected by the in¬ 
 dwelling of Christ in the soul. He comes to destroy the works 
 of the devil to pull down his strong-holds, and to purify the 
 soul.— (Ed.) 
 
 a very pestilent fellow for many years in the 
 miserable town of Mansoul. 
 
 Clerk. You are sure you know him. 
 
 Know. Know him! Yes, my Lord; I have here¬ 
 tofore too often been in bis company, to be at this 
 time ignorant of him. He is a Diabolonian, the 
 son of a Diabolonian, I knew his grandfather, and 
 his father. 
 
 Clerk. Well said. He standeth here indicted 
 by the name of Atheism, &c., and is charged that 
 he hath maintained and taught that there is no 
 God, and so no heed need be taken to any religion. 
 What say you, the King’s witnesses, to this? Is 
 he guilty, or not ? 
 
 Know. My Lord, I and he were once in Villains’ 
 Lane together, and he at that time did briskly talk 
 of diverse opinions, and then and there I heard him 
 say that for his part be did believe that there 
 was no God. But, said he, I can profess one, and 
 be as religious too, if the company I am in, and. 
 the circumstances of other things, said he, shall 
 put me upon it. 
 
 Clerk. You are sure you heard him say thus. 
 
 Know. Upon mine oath I heard him say thus. 
 
 Then said the Clerk, Mr. Telltrue, What say 
 you to the King’s judges, touching the prisoner at 
 the bar? 
 
 Tell. My Lord, I formerly was a great com', 
 panion of his, for the which I now repent me, and 
 I have often heard him say, and that with very 
 great stomachfulness, that he believed there was 
 neither God, angel, nor spirit. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you bear him say so ? 
 
 Tell. In Blackmouth Lane, and in Blasphemers’ 
 Row, and in many other places besides. 
 
 Clerk. Have you much knowledge of him? 
 
 Tell. I know him to be a Diabolonian, the son 
 of a Diabolonian, and a horrible man to deny a 
 Deity; his Father’s name was Never-be-good,< and 
 he had more children than this Atheism. I have 
 no more to say. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Hatelies, look upon the prisoner at 
 the bar; do you know him ? 
 
 Hate. My Lord, this Atheism is one of the 
 vilest wretches that ever I came near, or had to 
 do with in my life. I have heard him say that 
 there is no God; I have heard him say that there 
 is no world to come, no sin, nor punishment here¬ 
 after ; and moreover, I have heard him say that it 
 was as good to go to a whore-house as to go to 
 hear a sermon. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you hear him say these 
 things ? 
 
 2 A jury of good men and true. What a contrast between 
 
 them and Judge Lord Hategood, with, the jury who tried 
 
 Faithful—Bliudman, Nogood, Malice, Lovelust, Liveloose, 
 
 Heady, Highmind, Enmity, Liar, Cruelty, Hatelight, and 
 
 Implacable.-— (Ed. ) 
 
T1IE HOLY WAIL 
 
 Sll 
 
 II is plea. 
 
 IIate. In Drunkards’ Row, just at Rascal Lane’s 
 end, at a house in which Mf. Impiety lived. 1 
 
 Eastings set to Clerk.* feet him by, jailer, and set 
 
 the bar. Mr. Lustings to the bar. 
 
 Mr. Lustings, Thou art here indicted by the 
 name of Lustings, an intruder upon 
 
 II is indictment. - n i 
 
 the town ot Mansoul, for that thou 
 hast devilishly and traitorously taught, by practice 
 and filthy words, that it is lawful and profitable to 
 man to give way to his carnal desires; and that 
 thou, for thy part, hast not, nor never wilt deny 
 thyself of any sinful delight, as long as thy name 
 is Lustings. IIow sayest thou, art thou guilty of 
 this indictment or not ? 
 
 Lust. Then said Mr. Lustings, My Lord, I am 
 a man of high birth, and have been 
 used to pleasures and pastimes of 
 greatness. I have not been w r ont to be snubbed 
 for my doings, but have been left to follow my 
 will as if it were law. And it seems strange to 
 me that I should this day be called into question 
 for .that, that not only I, but also all men do either 
 secretly or openly countenance, love, and ap¬ 
 prove of. 
 
 Clerk. Sir, we concern not ourselves with your 
 greatness, though the higher the better you should 
 have been, but w r e are concerned, and so are you 
 now, about an indictment preferred against you. 
 How say you, are you guilty of it, or not ? 
 
 Lust. Not guilty. 
 
 Clerk. Crier, Call upon the witnesses to stand 
 forth, and give their evidence. 
 
 Crier. Gentlemen, you the witnesses for the 
 King, come in, and give in your evidence for our 
 Lord the King, against the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Come, Mr. Knowall, look upon the pri¬ 
 soner at the bar; do you know him ? 
 
 Know. Yes, my Lord, I know him. 
 
 Clerk. What is his name? 
 
 Know. His name is Lustings; he was the son 
 of one Beastlv, and his mother bare him in Flesh 
 Street; she was one Evil-concupiscence’s daughter. 
 I knew all the generation of them. 
 
 Clerk. Well said. You have here heard his in¬ 
 dictment, what say you to it, is he guilty of the 
 things charged against him or not? 
 
 Know. My Lord, he has, as he saith, been a 
 great man indeed ; and greater in wickedness than 
 by pedigree, more than a thousand fold. 
 
 Clerk. But what do you know of his particular 
 actions, and especially with reference to his indict¬ 
 ment? 
 
 Know. I know him to be a swearer, a liar, a 
 sabbath-breaker; I know him to be a fornicator, 
 
 1 Christian, is it possible that thoughts so desperately 
 wicked w^re ever injected by Satan into your heart ? How 
 thankful will you be to have them tried and destroyed; see 
 Grace Abounding, No. 101.— (Ed.) 
 
 and an unclean person; 1 know him to be guilty 
 of abundance of evils, lie has been to my know, 
 ledge a very filthy man. 
 
 Clerk. But where did he use to commit his 
 wickednesses, in some private corners, or more 
 open and shamelessly? 
 
 Know. All the town over, my Lord. 
 
 Clerk. Come, Mr. Telltrue, what have you to 
 say for our Lord the King against the prisoner at 
 the, bar ? 
 
 Tell. My Lord, all that the first witness has 
 said I know to be true, and a great deal more 
 besides. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Lustings, do you hear what these 
 gentlemen say? 
 
 Lust. I was ever of opinion that the happiest 
 life that a man could live on earth, 
 was to keep himself back from nothing IIls second P lea - 
 that he desired in the world; nor have I been false 
 at any time to this opinion of mine, but have lived 
 in the love of my notions all my days. Nor was 
 I ever so churlish, having found such sweetness in 
 them myself, as to keep the commendations of 
 them from others. 2 
 
 Court. Then said the court. There hath pro¬ 
 ceeded enough from his own mouth to lay him open 
 to condemnation, wherefore set him by, jailer, and 
 set Mr. Incredulity to the bar. 
 
 Incredulity set to the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Incredulity, Thou art here indicted 
 
 by the name of Incredulity, an in- incredulity set 
 truder upon the town of Mansoul, for to the bar. 
 
 that thou hast feloniously and wickedly, and that 
 when thou wert an officer in the town of Mansoul, 
 made head against the captains of the great King 
 Shaddai, when they came and demanded possession 
 of Mansoul; yea, thou didst bid de- 
 
 n , , i r i Ills indictment. 
 
 nance to the name, forces, and cause 
 of the King, and didst also, as did Diabolus thy 
 captain, stir up and encourage the town of Man¬ 
 soul to make head against, and resist the said 
 force of the King. What sayest thou to this in¬ 
 dictment? Art thou guilty of it, or not? 
 
 Then said Incredulitv, I know not Shaddai, I 
 love my old prince, I thought it my 
 duty to be true to my trust, and to do 
 what I could to possess the minds of the men of 
 Mansoul, to do their utmost to resist strangers and 
 foreigners, and with might to fight against them. 
 Nor have I, nor shall I change my opinion, for 
 fear of trouble, though you at present are possessed 
 of place and power. 
 
 Court. Then said the court, the man, as you 
 see, is incorrigible, he is for maintaining his vil- 
 
 Ilis plea. 
 
 2 The sinner is not satisfied with his own destruction, but 
 is ever leading others into the same awful state; sin is a spread¬ 
 ing plague, the unconverted heart is a mystery of iniquity.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
& 
 
 312 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 A 
 
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 H'" 
 
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 3 
 
 
 
 >wj 
 
 lainies by stoutness of words, and his rebellion 
 with impudent confidence ; and, therefore, set him 
 by, jailer, and set Mr. Forget-good to the bar. 
 
 Forget-good set to the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Forget-good, thou art here indicted 
 Forget-good set by the name of Forget-good, an in¬ 
 to the bai. trader upon the town of Mansoul, for 
 Ilis indictment, that thou, when the whole affairs of 
 the town of Mansoul were in thy hand, didst ut¬ 
 terly forget to serve them in what was good, and 
 didst fall in with the tyrant Diabolus against 
 Shaddai the King, against his captains, and all 
 his host, to the dishonour of Shaddai, the breach 
 of his law, and the endangering of the destruction 
 of the famous town of Mansoul. What sayest thou 
 to this indictment ? Art thou guilty, or not guilty ? 
 
 Then said Forget-good, Gentlemen, and at this 
 time my judges, as to the indictment 
 by which I stand of several crimes 
 accused before you, pray attribute my forgetful¬ 
 ness to mine age, and not to my wilfulness ; to the 
 craziness of my brain, and not to the carelessness 
 of my mind, and then I hope I may by your charity 
 be excused from great punishment, though I be 
 guilty. 
 
 Then said the court, Forget-good, Forget-good, 
 thy forgetfulness of good was not simply of frailty, 
 but of purpose, and for that thou didst loathe to 
 keep virtuous things in thy mind. What was bad 
 thou couldest retain, but what was good thou 
 couldest not abide to think of; thy age, therefore, 
 and thy pretended craziness, thou makest use of 
 to blind the court withal, and as a cloak to cover 
 thy knavery. But let us hear what the witnesses 
 have to say for the King against the prisoner at 
 the bar—is he guilty of this indictment, or not? 
 
 Hate. My Lord, I have heard this Forget-good 
 say that he could never abide to think of good¬ 
 ness, no, not for a quarter of an hour. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you hear him say so? 
 
 Hate. In Allbase Lane, at a house next door to 
 the Sign of the Conscience-seared-with-an-hot-iron. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Knowall, what can you say for our 
 Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar? 
 
 Know. My Lord, I know this man well, he is a 
 Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian, his Father’s 
 name was Lovenauglit, and for him, I have often 
 heard him say that he counted the very thoughts 
 of goodness the most burthensome thing in the 
 world. 
 
 Clerk. Where have you heard him say these 
 words ? 
 
 Know. In Flesh Lane, right opposite to the 
 church. 
 
 Then said the clerk, Come, Mr. Telltrue, give 
 iu your evidence concerning the prisoner at the 
 bar about that for which he stands here, as you 
 see, indicted before this honourable court. 
 
 Tell. My Lord, I have heard him often say he 
 had rather think of the vilest thing than of what 
 is contained in the holy Sculptures. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you hear him say such griev¬ 
 ous words? 
 
 Tell. Where ? in a great many places; par¬ 
 ticularly in Nauseous Street, in the house of one 
 Shameless, and in Filth Lane, at the sign of the 
 Reprobate, next door to the Descent-into-tlie-pit. 
 
 Court. Gentlemen, you have heard the indict¬ 
 ment, his plea, and the testimony of the witnesses. 
 Jailer, set Mr, Hardheart to the bar. 
 
 He is set to the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Hardheart, thou art here indicted 
 by the name of Hardheart, an in- Hardheart set 
 trader upon the town of Mansoul, for t0 tlie bar - 
 that thou didst most desperately and wickedly 
 possess the town of Mansoul with impenitency and 
 obdurateness, and didst keep them from remorse 
 and sorrow for their evils, all the time of their 
 apostasy from, and rebellion against, the blessed 
 King Shaddai. What sayest thou to this indict¬ 
 ment? Art thou guilty, or not guilty? 
 
 Hard. My Lord, I never knew what remorse or 
 sorrow meant in all my life; I am impenetrable, I 
 care for no man; nor can I be pierced with men’s 
 griefs, their groans will not enter into my heart; 
 whomever I mischief, whomever I wrong, to me it 
 is music, when to others mourning. 
 
 Court. You see the man is a right Diabolonian, 
 and has convicted himself. Set him by, jailer, 
 and set Mr. Falsepeace to the bar. 
 
 Falsepeace set to the bar. 
 
 Mr. Falsepeace, Thou art here indicted by the 
 name of Falsepeace, an intruder upon Falsepeace set 
 the town of Mansoul, for that thou to the bar. 
 didst most wickedly and satanically bring, hold, 
 and keep the town of Mansoul, both in her apos¬ 
 tasy, and in her hellish rebellion, in a false, ground¬ 
 less, and dangerous peace, and damnable security, 1 
 to the dishonour of the King, the transgression of 
 his law, and the great damage of the town of 
 Mansoul. What sayest thou? Art thou guilty 
 of this indictment, or not? 
 
 Then said Mr. Falsepeace, Gentlemen, and you, 
 now appointed to be my judges, I ac¬ 
 knowledge that my name is Mr. Peace, 
 but that my name is Falsepeace I utterly deny. 
 If your honours will please to send for any that do 
 intimately know me, or for the midwife that laid 
 my mother of me, or for the gossips that were at 
 my christening, 2 they will any, or all of them prove 
 
 His plea. 
 
 
 
 
 
 z See the woeful end of such, in Ro. ii. 5; Je. vi. 14.—■ 
 '(Mason.) 
 
 2 The gossips at a christening reminds me of a singular cir¬ 
 cumstance that took place at the christening of a friend’s child 
 about forty years ago. Our host rapped hard on the table, and 
 said, * Ladies and Gentlemen, I hear some talking politics, and 
 some religion; I beg you to recollect that we have nothing now 
 
THE riOLY WAR. 
 
 313 
 
 that my name is not Falsepeace, but Peace, 
 lie denies his Wherefore, I cannot plead to this in¬ 
 dictment, forasmuch as my name is not 
 inserted therein. And as is my true name, so also 
 are my conditions. 1 was always a man that loved 
 to live at quiet, and what I loved myself, that I 
 thought others might love also. Wherefore, when 
 I saw any of my neighbours to labour under a dis¬ 
 quieted mind, I endeavoured to help them what I 
 could, and instances of this good temper of mine 
 many I could give; as, 
 
 1. When at the beginning our town of Man- 
 Pleadshis good- soul did decline the ways of Shaddai; 
 
 they, some of them afterwards began 
 to have disquieting reflections upon themselves for 
 what they had done; but I, as one troubled to see 
 them disquieted, presently sought out means to get 
 them quiet again. 2. When the ways of the old 
 world and of Sodom were in fashion, if anything 
 happened to molest those that were for the customs 
 of the present times, I laboured to make them 
 quiet again, and to cause them to act without 
 molestation. 3. To come nearer home, when the 
 wars fell out between Shaddai and Diabolus, if at 
 any time I saw any of the town of Mansoul afraid 
 of destruction, I often used by some way, device, 
 invention, or other, to labour to bring them to peace 
 again. * 1 W lierefore, since I have always been a 
 man of so virtuous a temper, as some say a peace¬ 
 maker is, and if a peace-maker be so deserving a 
 man as some have been bold to attest he is, then 
 let me, gentlemen, be accounted by you, who have 
 a great name for justice and equity in Mansoul, 
 for a man that deserveth not this inhuman way of 
 treatment, but liberty, and also a license to seek 
 damage of those that have been my accusers. 
 
 Then said the clerk, Crier, make a proclamation. 
 
 Crier. £ 0 yes, forasmuch as the prisoner at 
 the bar hath denied his name to be that which is 
 mentioned in the indictment, the court requireth, 
 tnat if there be any in this place that can give 
 information to the court of the original and right 
 name or the prisoner, they would come forth and 
 give in their evidence, for the prisoner stands upon 
 his own innocencv.’ 
 
 Then came two into the court and desired that 
 
 New witnesses ^ey might have leave to speak what 
 comeui^iunst they knew concerning the prisoner at 
 
 the bar; the name of the one was 
 Searchtruth, and the name of the other Vouch- 
 truth. So the court demanded of these men if 
 they knew the prisoner, and what they could say 
 
 to do with politics or religion, but are at a christening, so fill 
 your glasses.’—(E d.) 
 
 1 ‘ ihere is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked.’ Is. lvii. 21. 
 Till convinced ot sin, and Christ becomes the sinner’s friend, 
 there is no peace, no mercy, no hope, no heaven.—(Mason.) 
 Alas! how many slumber into hell, under the misguiding in¬ 
 fluence of false peace.— (Ed.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 concerning him, for he stands, said they, upon his 
 own vindication. 
 
 Then said Mr. Searchtruth, My Lord, 1 — 
 
 Court. Hold, give him his oath; then they swaro 
 him. So he proceeded. 2 
 
 Search. My Lord, I know, and have known 
 this man from a child, and can attest that his name 
 is Falsepeace. I knew his father, his name was 
 Mr. Flatter, and his mother, before she was married, 
 was called by the name of Mrs. Sooth up; and 
 these two, Avhen they came together, lived not long 
 without this son, and when he was born they called 
 his name Falsepeace. I was his playfellow, only 
 I was somewhat older than he; and when his 
 mother did use to call him home from his play, she 
 used to say, Falsepeace, Falsepeace, come home- 
 quick, or 111 fetch you. Yea, I knew him when 
 he sucked; and though I was then but little, yet 
 I can remember that when his mother did use to 
 sit at the door with him, or did play with him in 
 her arms, she would call him twenty times together. 
 My little Falsepeace, my pretty Falsepeace, and 
 0 my sweet rogue, Falsepeace; and again, 0 mv 
 little bird, Falsepeace; and how do I love my 
 child! The gossips also know it is thus, though 
 he has had the face to deny it in open court. 
 
 Then Mr. Vouch truth was called upon to speak 
 what he knew of him. So they sware him. Then 
 said Mr. Vouchtruth, My Lord, all that the former 
 witness hath said is true; his name is Falsepeace, 
 the son of Mr. Flatter and of Mrs. Soothup his 
 mother. And I have in former times seen him 
 angry with those who have called him anything 
 else but Falsepeace, for he would say that all 
 such did mock and nickname him, but this was in 
 the time when Mr. Falsepeace was a great man, 
 and when the Diabolonians were the brave men in 
 Mansoul. 
 
 Court. Gentlemen, you have heard what these 
 two men have sworn against the prisoner at the 
 bar. And now, Mr. Falsepeace, to you, you have 
 denied your name to be Falsepeace, yet you see 
 that these honest men have sworn that this is your 
 name. As to your plea, in that you are quite 
 besides the matter of your indictment, you are not 
 by it charged for evil doing, because you are a 
 man of peace, or a peace-maker among vour 
 neighbours ; but for that you did wickedly, and sa- 
 tanically, bring, keep, and hold the town of Mansoul 
 both under its apostacy from, and in its rebellion 
 against its King, in a false, lying, and damnable 
 peace, contrary to the law of Shaddai, and to the 
 hazard of the destruction of the then miserable 
 town of Mansoul. All that you have pleaded for 
 
 2 A similar circumstance, in the trial of Faithful, took place 
 in the examination of the witness Envy, who commenced his 
 testimony without beiug sworn, probably arising from what 
 Bunyan had seen at the assizes.—(E d.) 
 
 40 
 
314 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 yourself is, that you have denied your name, &c., 
 hut here you see we have witnesses to prove that 
 you are the man. 
 
 For the peace that you so much boast of making 
 among your neighbours, know that peace that is 
 not a companion of truth and holiness, but that 
 which is without this foundation, is grounded upon 
 a lie, and is both deceitful and damnable; as also 
 the great Shaddai hath said; thy plea therefore 
 has not delivered thee from what by the indictment 
 thou art charged with, but rather it doth fasten all 
 upon thee. 
 
 But thou shalt have very fair play, let us call 
 the witnesses that are to testify as to matter of 
 fact, and see what they have to say for our Lord 
 the King against the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Knowall, what say you for our Lord 
 the King against the prisoner at the bar? 
 
 Know. My Lord, this man hath of a long time 
 made it, to my knowledge, his business to keep the 
 town of Mansoul in a sinful quietness in the midst 
 of all her lewdness, filthiness and turmoils, and 
 hath said, and that in my hearing, Come, come, 
 let us fly from all trouble, on what ground soever 
 it comes, and let us be for a quiet and peaceable 
 life, though it wanteth a good foundation. 
 
 Clerk. Come, Mr. Ilate-lies, what have you to 
 say? 
 
 Hate. My Lord, I have heard him say that 
 peace, though in a way of unrighteousness, is better 
 than trouble with truth. 
 
 Clerk. Where did you hear him say this ? 
 
 Hate. I heard him say it in Folly-yard, at the 
 house of one Mr. Simple, next door to the sign of 
 the Self-deceiver. Yea, he hath said this to my 
 knowledge twenty times in that place. 
 
 Clerk. We may spare further witness, this evi- 
 Notruth set to dence is plain and full. Set him by, 
 
 the bar. jailer, and set Mr. Notruth to the bar. 
 
 Mr. Notruth, thou art here indicted by the name 
 of Notruth, an intruder upon the town 
 of Mansoul, for that thou hast always, 
 to the dishonour of Shaddai, and the endangering 
 of the utter ruin of the famous town of Mansoul, 
 set thyself to deface and utterly to spoil all the 
 remainders of the law and image of Shaddai that 
 have been found in Mansoul, after her deep apostasy 
 from her King to Diabolus, the envious tyrant. 
 What sayest thou? Art thou guilty of this indict¬ 
 ment, or not? 
 
 Notrutii. Not guilty, my Lord. 
 
 Then the witnesses were called, and 
 Mr. Knowall did first give in his evidence against 
 him. 
 
 Know. My Lord, this man was at the pulling 
 down of the image of Shaddai; yea, 
 this is he that did it with his own 
 hands. I myself stood by and saw him do it, and 
 
 His indictment. 
 
 lie did it at the commandment of Diabolus. Yea, 
 this Mr. Notruth did more than this, lie did also 
 set up the horned image of the beast Diabolus in 
 the same place. This also is he that, at the bidding 
 of Diabolus, did rend and tear and cause to be con¬ 
 sumed all that lie could of the remainders of the 
 law of the King, even whatever he could lay his 
 hands on, in Mansoul. 
 
 Clerk. Who saw him do this besides yourself? 
 
 Hate. I did, my Lord, and so did many more 
 besides; for this was not done by stealth, or in a 
 corner, but in the open view of all, yea, he chose 
 himself to do it publicly, for he delighted in the 
 doing of it. 
 
 Clerk. Mr. Notruth, how could you have the 
 face to plead not guilty, when you were so mani¬ 
 festly the doer of all this wickedness? 
 
 Notrutii. Sir, I thought I must say something, 
 and as my name is, so I speak. I have 
 been advantaged thereby before now, and 
 did not know but by speaking no truth I might 
 have reaped the same benefit now. 
 
 Clerk. Set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Pityless 
 to the bar. Mr. Pitiless, thou art PityleS3 set t0 
 here indicted by the name of Pitiless, the bar. ilia 
 an intruder upon the town of Mansoul, 
 for that thou didst most traitorously and wickedly 
 shut up all bowels of compassion, and wouldest not 
 suffer Mansoul to condole her own misery when she 
 had apostatized from her rightful King, but didst 
 evade, and at all times turn her mind awry from 
 those thoughts that had in them a tendency to lead 
 her to repentance. What sayest thou to this in¬ 
 dictment ? Guilty, or not guilty ? 
 
 Not guilty of pitilessness; all I did was to 
 cheer-up, according to my name, for 
 my name is not Pitiless, but Cheer- 
 up ; and I could not abide to see Mansoul incline 
 to melancholy. 
 
 Clerk. How ! do you deny your name, and say 
 it is not Pitiless but Cheerup ? Call for the wit¬ 
 nesses. What say you, the witnesses, to this plea ? 
 
 Know. My Lord, his name is Pitiless; so he 
 hath writ himself in all papers of concern wherein 
 he has had to do. But these Diabolonians love to 
 counterfeit their names; Mr. Covetousness covers 
 himself with the name of Good-husbandry, or the 
 like; Mr. Pride can, when need is, call himself 
 Mr. Neat, Mr. Handsome, or the like, and so of 
 all the rest of them. 1 
 
 Clerk. Mr, Telltrue, what say you ? 
 
 Tell. His name is Pitiless, my Lord ; I have 
 known him from a child, and he hath done all that 
 wickedness whereof he stands charged in the 
 
 His plea. 
 
 Witnesses. 
 
 1 c With names of virtue she deceives 
 The aged and the young; 
 
 And while the heedless wretch believes, 
 She makes his fetters strong.’ 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 315 
 
 indictment; but there is a company of them that are 
 not acquainted with the danger of damning, there¬ 
 fore they call all those melancholy that have serious 
 thoughts [as to] how that state should be shunned 
 by them. 
 
 Clerk. Set Mr. Haughty to the bar, jailer. 
 
 naughty set to Mr * IIau S%» Thou art here indicted 
 the°bar. His by the name of Haughty, an intruder 
 IK ictment. U p 0n t b e town of Mansoul, for that 
 
 tliou didst most traitorously and devilishly teach 
 the town of Mansoul to carry it loftily and stoutly 
 against the summons that was given them by the 
 captains of the King Shaddai. Thou didst also 
 teach the town of Mansoul to speak contemptuously 
 and vilifyingly of their great King Shaddai; and 
 didst moreover encourage, both by words and ex¬ 
 ample, Mansoul to take up arms, both against the 
 King and his Son Emmanuel. How sayest thou? 
 Art thou guilty of this indictment, or not? 
 
 IIaugii. Gentlemen, I have always been a man 
 of courage and valour, and have not 
 used when under the greatest clouds, 
 to sneak or hang down the head like a bulrush; 
 nor did it at all at any time please me to see men 
 vail their bonnets 1 to those that have opposed 
 them ; yea, though their adversaries seemed to 
 have ten times the advantage of them. I did not 
 use to consider who was my foe, nor what the cause 
 was in which I was engaged. It was enough to 
 me if I carried it bravely, fought like a man, and 
 came off a victor. 
 
 Court. Mr. Haughty, you are not here indicted 
 for that you have been a valiant man, 
 
 1 ii6 ronrt ** * 
 
 nor for your courage and stoutness in 
 times of distress, but for that you have made use 
 of this your pretended valour to draw the town of 
 Mansoul into acts of rebellion, both against the 
 great King and Emmanuel his Son. This is the 
 crime and the thing wherewith thou art charged 
 m and by the indictment. But he made no answer 
 to that. 
 
 Now when the court had thus far proceeded 
 against the prisoners at the bar, then they put 
 them over to the verdict of their jury, to whom 
 they did apply themselves after this manner:—- 
 
 Gentlemen of the jury, you have been here, and 
 
 The ccrart to have seen these men, you have heard 
 their indictments, their pleas, and what 
 the witnesses have testified against them; now 
 
 The jury’s what remains, is, that you do forth¬ 
 with withdraw yourselves to some place, 
 where without confusion you may consider of what 
 verdict, in a way of truth and righteousness, you 
 
 Bonnets or caps were commonly worn by men. ‘To 
 vail the bonnet ’ was to take it off and bow, cap in hand— 
 equivalent to taking off the hat and bowing at the present 
 nay. ‘ As for vailing bonnet before great rulers.’—Holland’s 
 Winy, b. xxviii.— (Ed.) 1 
 
 ought to bring in for the King against them, and 
 so bring it in accordingly. 
 
 Then the jury, to wit, Mr. Belief, Mr. Truc- 
 heart, Mr. Upright, Mr. Hatebad, Mr. They withdraw 
 Lovegod, Mr. Seetrutli, Mr. Heavenly- themselves. 
 
 mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thankful, Mr. Humble, 
 Mr. Goodwork, and Mr. Zeal-for-God, withdrew 
 themselves in order to their work. Now when they 
 were shut up by themselves they fell to discourse 
 among themselves, in order to the drawing up of 
 their verdict. 
 
 And thus Mr. Belief, for he was the foreman, 
 began; Gentlemen, quoth he, for the men, the 
 prisoners at the bar, for my part I ™ . , 
 
 beiieve that they all deserve death, ence among 
 Very right, said Mr. Trueheart, I am the,ilsehes - 
 wholly of your opinion. 0 what a mercy is it, said 
 Mr. Hatebad, that such villains as these are ap¬ 
 prehended ! Ay, Ay, said Mr. Lovegod, this is one 
 of the joyfullest days that ever I saw in my life. 
 Then said Mr. Seetrutli, I know that if we judge 
 them to death, our verdict shall stand before 
 Shaddai himself. Nor do I at all question it, said 
 Mr. Heavenlymind ; he said moreover, When all 
 such beasts as these are cast out of Mansoul, what 
 a goodly town will it be then ! Then said Mr. 
 Moderate, It is not my manner to pass my judg¬ 
 ment with rashness, but for these, their crimes are 
 so notorious, and the witness so palpable, that that 
 man must be wilfully blind who saith the prisoners 
 ought not to die. Blessed be God, said Mr. Thank¬ 
 ful, that the traitors are in safe custody. And I 
 join with you in this upon my bare knees, said 
 Mr. Humble. I am glad also, said Mr. Goodwork. 
 Then said the warm man, and true-hearted Mr. 
 Zeal-for-God, Cut them off, they have been the 
 plague, and have sought the destruction of Man¬ 
 soul. 2 
 
 Thus therefore being all agreed in their verdict, 
 they come instantly into the court. 
 
 Clerk. Gentlemen of the jury answer all to 
 your names; Mr. Belief, one; Mr. They are agreed 
 Trueheart, two; Mr. Upright, three; dieted bring 
 Mr. Hatebad, four; Mr. Lovegod, five; themin g^y- 
 Mr. Seetrutli, six; Mr. Heavenlymind, seven; Mr. 
 Moderate, eight; Mr. Thankful, nine; Mr. Hum¬ 
 ble, ten; Mr. Goodwork, eleven ; and Mr. Zeal-for- 
 God, twelve; good men and true, stand together 
 in your verdict; are you all agreed ? 
 
 Jury. Yes, my Lord. 
 
 Clerk. Who shall speak for you ? 
 
 Jury. Our Foreman. 
 
 2 There is in the renewed soul a sincere detestation of all 
 sin. As the jury were unanimous in their verdict, so all real 
 Christians will most cordially doom their lusts to death. 
 
 Yes, my Redeemer, they shall die. 
 
 My heart hath so decreed; 
 
 Nor will I spare the guilty things 
 That made my Saviour bleed.—(Eurder.) 
 
316 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 The verdict. 
 
 Clerk. You the gentlemen of the jury, being 
 impannelled for our Lord the King to serve here 
 in a matter of life and death, have heard the trials 
 of each of these men, the prisoners at the bar. 
 What say you, are they guilty of that, and those 
 crimes for which they stand here indicted, or are 
 they not guilty ? 
 
 Foreman. Guilty my Lord. 
 
 Clerk. Look to your prisoners, jailer. 
 
 This was done in the morning, and in the after¬ 
 noon they received the sentence of death according 
 to the law. 
 
 The jailer therefore having received such a 
 charge, put them all in the inward prison, to per- 
 serve them there till the day of execution, which 
 was to be the next day in the morning. 
 
 But now to see how it happened, one of the 
 
 f ncredulity prisoners, Incredulity by name, in the 
 breaks prison, interim betwixt the sentence and time 
 of execution, brake prison, and made his escape, 
 and gets him away quite out of the town of Man- 
 soul, and lay lurking in such places and holds as 
 he might, until he should again have opportunity 
 to do the town of Mansoid a mischief for their thus 
 handling of him as they did. 1 
 
 Now when Mr. Trueman the jailer perceived that 
 he had lost his prisoner, he was in a heavy taking, 
 because he, that prisoner was, to speak on, the 
 very worst of all the gang ; wherefore first, he goes 
 and acquaints my Lord Mayor, Mr. Recorder, and 
 my Lord Will-be-will with the matter, and to get 
 of them an order to make search for him through- 
 
 ... T -t ... out the town of Mansoul. So an order 
 
 No Incredulity 
 
 found in Man- he got, and search was made, but no 
 soul. ^ • 
 
 such man could now be found in all 
 the town of Mansoul. 2 
 
 All that could be gathered was that he had 
 lurked a while about the outside of the town, and 
 that here and there one or other had a glimpse of 
 him as he did make his escape out of Mansoul; 
 one or two also did affirm that they saw him with¬ 
 out the town, going a-pace quite over the plain. 3 
 Now when he was quite gone, it was affirmed by 
 He is gone to one Mr. Didsee, that he ranged all over 
 Diabolus. djy places, till he met with Diabolus 
 
 his friend; and where should they meet one another 
 but just upon Hell-gate-hill. 
 
 But 0 ! what a lamentable story did the old 
 gentleman tell to Diabolus, concerning what sad 
 alteration Emmanuel had made in Mansoul. 4 
 
 As first, how Mansoul had, after some delays, 
 received a general pardon at the hands He te]]g Diatol . 
 of Emmanuel, and that they had in- us wl \ at 
 
 . .... ^ manuel now is 
 
 vited him into the town, and that they doing in Man- 
 had given him the castle for his pos- S01lL 
 session. He said, moreover, that they had called 
 his soldiers into the town, coveted who should 
 quarter the most of them; they also entertained 
 him with the timbrel, song, and dance. But that, 
 said Incredulity, that is the sorest vexation to me 
 is, that he hath pulled down, 0 father, thy image, 
 and set up his own; pulled dowui thy officers and 
 set up his own. Yea, and Will-be-will, that rebel, 
 who, one would have thought, should never have 
 turned from us, he is now in as great favour with 
 Emmanuel as ever he was with thee. But besides 
 all this, this Will-be-will has received a special 
 commission from his master to search for, to ap¬ 
 prehend, and to put to death all, and all manner 
 of Diabolonians that he shall find in Mansoul; yea, 
 and this Will-be-will has taken and committed to 
 prison already, eight of my lord’s most trusty 
 friends in Mansoul. Nay further, my lord, with 
 grief I speak it, they have been all arraigned, con¬ 
 demned, and, I doubt before this, executed in Man¬ 
 soul. I told my lord of eight, and myself was 
 the ninth, who should assuredly have drunk of the 
 same cup, but that through craft, I, as thou seest, 
 have made mine escape from them. 
 
 When Diabolus had heard this lamentable story 
 he yelled, and snuffed up the wind like Diabolus yells 
 a dragon, and made the sky to look at the news. 
 
 dark with his roaring; he also sware that he would 
 try to be revenged on Mansoul for this. So they, 
 both he and his old friend Incredulity, concluded to 
 enter into great consultation how they might get 
 the town of Mansoul again. 
 
 Now before this time, the day was come in which 
 the prisoners in Mansoul were to be executed. Ro. 
 viii. 13 . So they were brought to the cross, 0 and 
 
 1 The accuracy with which these criminal trials are narrated 
 is surprising. The imprisonment, indictment, court, jury, 
 witnesses, verdict, sentence—all is in the same order as if 
 written by my Lord Chief Justice. "What a contrast is here 
 exhibited to the behaviour of the judge and jury in the trial 
 of Faithful, in the * Pilgrim’s Progress 1’ That was brutal, as 
 the then Judge Jeffries; this dignified and constitutional, as 
 the present Judge Campbell. Thanks be unto God for so 
 vast a reformation, clearly foreseen by Bunyan.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 What a blessed season 1 no unbelief to be found at that 
 time in Mansoul. Christian, call to mind the time when 
 Christ led you into his banqueting-house, and his banner over 
 you was love ; you could find no unbelief then. Alas! the 
 troubler makes his appearance again quite soon enough.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 3 Unbelief, that giant sin, was apprehended and condemned 
 
 —but, alas! he escapes. This incident is introduced by the 
 author with great skill. He eludes justice, and flies to hell, 
 to meditate new mischief. Ah 1 where is the believer who is 
 at all times wholly free from the assaults of this arch-rebel ? 
 Where is the Christian w r ho has not occasion to say, and that 
 with tears, ‘Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief?’— 
 (Burder.) 
 
 4 The conversion of sinners, which is daily and hourly 
 creating joy among the angels in heaven and saints on earth, 
 adds to the torments of Diabolus and his host in hell, and of 
 all his slaves in the world.— '(Ed.) 
 
 6 The cross, in the market-place of most towns, was the 
 place of public proclamations and executions. The slaying of 
 our sins at the cross, denotes that they are to be publicly 
 abandoned, so that the Christian becomes a living epistle, 
 ‘ known and read of all men.’ 2 Co. iii. 2 .—(Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 317 
 
 that hy Mansoul, in most solemn manner. Ro. vi. 
 12 - 14 . For the Prince said that this should be 
 done by the hand of the town of Mansoul, that I 
 may see, said lie, the forwardness of my now re¬ 
 deemed Mansoul to keep my word, and to do my 
 commandments; and that I may bless Mansoul 
 iu doing this deed. Proof of sincerity pleases 
 me well; let Mansoul, therefore, first lay their 
 hands upon these Diabolonians to destroy them. 
 
 Ga. v. 24. 
 
 So the town of Mansoul slew them according to 
 the word of their Prince; but when the prisoners 
 were brought to the cross to die, you can hardly 
 believe what troublesome work Mansoul had of it 
 to put the Diabolonians to death; for the men 
 knowing that they must die, and every of them 
 having implacable enmity in their heart to Man¬ 
 soul, what did they but took courage at the cross, 
 and there resisted the men of the town of Mansoul ? 
 
 The assistance Wherefore the men of Mansoul were 
 of more grace. f orcec l cr y ou ^ f or } ie ]p £ 0 H ie ca p_ 
 
 tains and men of war. Now the great Shaddai 
 had a secretary in the town, and he v r as a great 
 lover of the men of Mansoul, and lie was at the 
 place of execution also; so lie hearing the men 
 of Mansoul cry out against the stragglings and 
 unruliness of the prisoners, rose up from his place, 
 and came and put his hands upon the hands of the 
 
 men of Mansoul. 1 So they crucified 
 location done. Diabolonians that had been a 
 
 plague, a grief, and an offence to the town of 
 Mansoul. 2 Ro. viii. is. 
 
 [Chapter NI.] 
 
 [Contents -.—Mr. Experience is made an officer—The charter 
 of the town renewed, and enlarged with special privi¬ 
 leges—'1 he ministry of the gospel regularly established, 
 under the direction of the Secretary—Mr. Conscience 
 ordained a preacher, and his duty particularly specified— 
 Directions how to behave to the ministers—The inhabi¬ 
 tants clad iu white, and receive many other distinguishing 
 favours from the Prince—God’s-peace is appointed to 
 rule—The unexampled felicity of the town.] 
 
 Now when this good work was done, the Prince 
 The Prince came down to see, to visit, and to 
 to congram- speak comfortably to the men of Man- 
 late them. soul, and to strengthen their hands in 
 such work. And he said to them that by this 
 act of theirs he had proved them, and found them 
 to be lovers of his person, observers of his laws, 
 and such as had also respect to his honour. He 
 
 1 This probably alludes to Elisha putting his hands upon 
 the king’s hands, wheu shooting the arrow of deliverance. 
 
 2 Ki xiii. 16. The conquest and crucifixion of sin can never 
 be effected without Divine assistance. Prayer brings the aid 
 ot the Holy Spirit; and thus we are enabled to conquer our 
 sinful thoughts and propensities.— (Ed.) 
 
 The greatest proof of our attachment to Christ is the 
 destruction of our sins; not suffering them to reign in our 
 
 said, moreover, to show them that they by this 
 
 should not bo losers, nor their town weakened by 
 
 the loss of them, that ho would make them 
 
 another captain, and that of one of TT 
 
 r 7 . . . He promises to 
 
 themselves. And that this captain make them a 
 should be the ruler of a thousand, cupu n - 
 for the good and benefit of the now flourishing 
 town of Mansoul. 
 
 So he called one to him whose name was Wait¬ 
 ing, and bid him go quickly up to the Castle-gate, 
 and inquire there for one Mr. Experience, that 
 waiteth upon that noble captain, the ,, 
 
 . g i i • i I • Experience must 
 
 Captain Credence, and bid him come be the new cap- 
 hither to me. So the messenger that 
 waited upon the good Prince Emmanuel went and 
 said as he was commanded. Now the young 
 gentleman was waiting to see the captain train and 
 muster his men in the castle-yard. Then said 
 Mr. Waiting to him, Sir, the Prince would that 
 you should come down to his Highness forthwith. 
 So he brought him down to Emmanuel, and he 
 came and made obeisance before him. Now the 
 men of the town knew Mr. Experience well, for ho 
 was born and bred in the town of Man- ™ ... 
 
 The quahfica- 
 
 soul; they also knew him to be a man tions of their 
 c i new captain. 
 
 or conduct, ot valour, and a person 
 prudent in matters; he was also a comely person, 
 well spoken, and very successful in his undertak¬ 
 ings. Wherefore the hearts of the Mansoul takes 
 townsmen were transported with joy, it well, 
 when they saw that the Prince himself was so 
 taken with Mr. Experience, that he would needs 
 make him a captain over a band of men. 
 
 So with one consent they bowed the knee before 
 Emmanuel, and with a shout said, Let Emmanuel 
 live for ever. Then said the Prince to the young 
 gentleman whose name was Mr. Experience, I have 
 thought good to confer upon thee a The thing toM 
 place of trust and honour in this my to Mr. Experi- 
 town of Mansoul; then the young 
 man bowed his head and worshipped. It is, said 
 Emmanuel, that thou shouldest be a captain, a 
 captain over a thousand men in my beloved town 
 of Mansoul. Then said the Captain, Let the King 
 live. So the Prince gave out orders forthwith to 
 the King’s Secretary, that he should His commission 
 draw up for Mr. Experience a commis- sent hlul - 
 sion, to make him a captain over a thousand men, 
 and let it be brought to me, said he, that I may 
 set too my seal. So it was done as it was com¬ 
 manded. The commission was drawn up, brought 
 to Emmanuel, and he set his seal thereto. Then, 
 
 bodies, but crucifying the flesh, with its affections and lusts. 
 But, indeed, our sins struggle much, and die hard; and our 
 own native strength is insufficient for their mortification. The 
 Spirit, therefore, is introduced, as helping in this work; for, 
 * If ye, through the Spirit, do mortify the deeds of the body, 
 ye shall live.’—(Burder.) 
 
318 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 by the hand of Mr. Waiting, he sent it away to 
 the captain. 1 
 
 Now so soon as the captain had received his 
 commission, he soundeth his trumpet for volun¬ 
 teers, and young men come to him apace, yea, the 
 greatest and cliiefest men in the town sent their 
 sons to be listed under his command. Thus Cap¬ 
 tain Experience came under command to Em¬ 
 manuel, for the good of the town of Mansoul. He 
 His tmder-offi- bad for his lieutenant one Mr. Skilful, 
 cers - and for his coronet one Mr. Memory. 
 Ilis under-officers I need not name. His colours 
 were the white colours for the town of Mansoul, 
 and his escutcheon was the dead lion and dead 
 bear. 2 1 Sa. xvii. 36 , 37. So the Prince returned to his 
 royal palace again. 
 
 Now, when he was returned thither, the elders 
 of the town of Mansoul, to wit, the Lord Mayor, 
 
 The eiders of ^ ie Recorder, and the Lord Will-be- 
 Mensoul con- will, went to congratulate him, and in 
 
 gralulate him. . . , . . . . r . . . 
 
 special way to thank him tor his love, 
 care, and the tender compassion which he showed 
 to his ever-obliged town of Mansoul. So, after a 
 while, and some sweet communion between them, 
 the townsmen having solemnly ended their cere¬ 
 mony, returned to their place again. 
 
 Emmanuel also at this time appointed them a 
 day wherein he would renew their charter, yea, 
 He renews their wherein he would renew and enlarge 
 
 charter. mending several faults therein, that 
 
 Mansoul’s yoke might be yet more easy. Mat. xi. 28— 
 30. And this he did without any desire of theirs, 
 even of his own frankness and noble mind. So, 
 when he had sent for and seen their old one, he 
 laid it by, and said, ‘ Now that which decayeth 
 and waxeth old, is ready to vanish away. ’ He. viii. 
 13 . He said, moreover, the town of Mansoul shall 
 have another, a better, a new one, more steady 
 and firm by far. An epitome hereof take as 
 follows:— 
 
 ‘ Emmanuel, Prince of peace, and a great lover 
 
 An epitome of ^ ie town ^ anS0l b, I do, in the 
 their new char- name of my Father, and of mine own 
 
 clemency, give, grant, and bequeath 
 to my beloved town of Mansoul: First, Free, full, 
 and everlasting forgiveness of all wrongs, injuries, 
 and offences done by them against my Father, me, 
 their neighbour, or themselves. lie. viii. 12. Secondly, 
 I do give them the holy law, and my testament, 
 with all that therein is contained, for their ever- 
 
 1 The happy effects of a Christian’s experience are—a con¬ 
 viction, by the Word and Spirit of revelation, of our insuf¬ 
 ficiency, and Christ’s all-sufficiency; an insight into gospel 
 mysteries; God’s veracity, faithfulness, and immutability.— 
 (Mason.) It should be noticed, that at this period of the 
 Christian’s life, experience is but a young gentleman.— 
 (Ep.) 
 
 “ David, having determined to encounter Goliath, comforted 
 himself with his past experience. ‘ Thy servant slew both the 
 
 lasting comfort and consolation. 3 Jn. xv. 8.-14. 
 Thirdly, I do also give them a portion of the self¬ 
 same grace and goodness that dwells in my 
 Father’s heart and mine. 2 Pe.i. 4. 2 Co. vii. 1. 1 Jn. iv. 16 . 
 Fourthly, I do give, grant, and bestow upon them 
 freely, the world, and what is therein, for their 
 good; and they shall have that power over them, 
 as shall stand with the honour of my Father, my 
 glory, and their comfort; yea, I grant them the 
 benefits of life and death, and of things present, 
 and things to come. 1 Co. iii. 21, 22. This privilege, 
 no other city, town, or corporation, shall have but 
 my Mansoul only. Fifthly, I do give and grant 
 them leave, and free access to me in my palace, 
 at all seasons, to my palace above or below, there 
 to make known their wants to me. He. x. 19 , 20. And 
 I give them, moreover, a promise that I will hear 
 and redress all their grievances. Mat. vii. 7. Sixthly, 
 I do give, grant to, and invest the town of Mansoul 
 with full power and authority to seek out, take, 
 enslave, and destroy all, and all man- n 0 mnn to die 
 ner of Diabolonians, that at any time, for killing of sin. 
 from whencesoever, shall be found straggling in, 
 or about the town of Mansoul. Seventhly, 1 do 
 further grant to my beloved town of Mansoul that 
 they shall have authority not to suffer any foreigner, 
 or stranger, or their seed, to be free Ko lmt llM my 
 
 in and of the blessed town of Man- grant by Christ, 
 
 1 .i . ,1 n or any liberty to 
 
 soul, nor to share in the excellent act in the town 
 
 privileges thereof. Ep. iv. 22. But that of MansouL 
 
 all the grants, privileges, and immunities, that I 
 
 bestow upon the famous town of Mansoul, shall be 
 
 for those the old natives and true inhabitants 
 
 thereof, to them I say, and to their right seed after 
 
 them. Col. iii. 5—9. But all Diabolonians, of what 
 
 sort, birth, country, or kingdom soever, shall be 
 
 debarred a share therein.’ 
 
 So, when the town of Mansoul had received, 
 at the hand of Emmanuel, their gracious charter, 
 which in itself is infinitely more large than by 
 this lean epitome is set before you, they carried 
 it to audience, that is, to the market-place, and 
 there Mr. Recorder read it in the presence of all 
 the people. 2Co. iii. 3. Je. xxxi. 33. This being done, 
 it was had back to the castle gates, ^ . 
 
 o ’ Tlieir charter 
 and there fairly engraven upon the set upon their 
 
 doors thereof, and laid in letters of Cd3tle gdtes ' 
 
 gold, to the end that the town of Mansoul, with 
 
 all the people thereof, might have it always in 
 
 their view, or might go where they might see what 
 
 a blessed freedom their Prince had bestowed upon 
 
 lion and the bear: he who delivered me from their paws, will 
 
 deliver me out of the hand of this Philistine.’— (Ed.) 
 
 3 By ‘ the holy law,’ we are not limited to the ten com¬ 
 mandments, but to the law and testimony—the whole revealed 
 will of God. It as much embraces the new commandment as 
 the ten. What a mercy that the soul in Christ finds in the 
 law and covenant everlasting comfort and consolation.— (Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 310 
 
 tlicni, that their joy might he increased in them¬ 
 selves, and their love renewed to their great and 
 good Emmanuel. lie. viii. 10 . 
 
 But what joy, what comfort, what consolation, 
 Joy renewed in think you, did now possess the hearts 
 
 Mansoui. 0 f tp e n]cn 0 f Mansoul! The bells 
 ringed, the minstrels played, the people danced, 
 the captains shouted, the colours waved in the 
 wind, aiid the silver trumpets sounded, and the 
 Diabolonians now were glad to hide their heads, 
 for they looked like them that had been long 
 dead. 1 
 
 When this was over the Prince sent again for 
 
 the elders of the town of Mansoul, and communed 
 
 with them about a ministry that he intended to 
 
 */ 
 
 establish among them, such a ministry that might 
 open unto them, and that might instruct them in 
 the things that did concern their present and future 
 state. 2 
 
 For, said he, you of yourselves, without you 
 have teachers and guides, will not he able to know, 
 and if not to know, to be sure, not to do the will 
 of my Father. Je. x. 23 . 1 C 0 . n. 14 . 
 
 At this news, when the elders of Mansoul 
 brought it to the people, the whole town came 
 The common good running together, for it pleased them 
 
 thoughts. ■well, as whatever the Prince now did 
 pleased the people, and all with one consent im¬ 
 plored his Majesty, that he would forthwith estab¬ 
 lish such a ministry among them as might teach 
 them both law and judgment, statute and com¬ 
 mandment, that they might be documented 3 in all 
 good and wholesome things. So he told them 
 that he would grant them their requests, and would 
 establish two among them, one that was of his 
 Father’s court, and one that was a native of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 He that is from the court, said he, is a person 
 of no less quality and dionity than is 
 
 The Iloly Spirit. - it i i • t i 
 
 my bather and 1, and he is the Lord 
 Chief Secretary of my Father’s house; for he is, 
 and always has been, the chief dictator of all 
 my Father’s laws; a person altogether well skilled 
 in all mysteries, and knowledge of mysteries, as is 
 my Father, or as myself is. Indeed, he is one 
 with us in nature, and also as to loving of, and 
 being faithful to, and in, the eternal concerns of 
 the town of Mansoul. 
 
 And this is he, said the Prince, that must be 
 your chief teacher, for it is he, and he only, that 
 
 1 "W ell may tlie Christian exult in the blessings of this new 
 and everlasting covenant, * ordered in all things and sure.’ 
 The world, life, death, things present, and things to come, all 
 is ours, if we are Christ’s. This charter was set upon the 
 castle gates; may it be inscribed in indelible characters on our 
 hearts, while every power of the soul is tilled with joy, and 
 while sin, abolished, shall hide its ugly head!—(Burder.) 
 
 The ministry of the Holy Ghost, wTio alone can open our 
 understandings to behold the wondrous things of God’s law, or 
 
 can teach you clearly in all high and supernatural 
 tilings. 1 Th. i. 5, 0. He and he only it is that knows 
 the ways and methods of my Father at court, nor 
 can any like him show how the heart of my Father 
 is at all times, in all things, upon all occasions, 
 towards Mansoul; for as no man knows the things 
 of a man, but that spirit of a man which is in him, 
 so the things of my Father knows no man but this 
 his high and mighty Secretary. Nor can any, as 
 he, tell Mansoul how and what they shall do to 
 keep themselves in the love of my Father. He 
 also it is that can bring lost things to your remem¬ 
 brance, and that can tell you things to come. This 
 teacher therefore must of necessity have the pre¬ 
 eminence—both in your affections and judgment— 
 before your other teacher, ito. via. 26. Ilis personal 
 dignity, the excellency of his teaching, also the 
 great dexterity that he hath to help you to make 
 and draw up petitions to my Father for your help, 
 and to his pleasing (Jude 20. Ep. vi. is.) must lay 
 obligations upon you to love him, fear him, and to 
 take heed that you grieve him not. Re. ii. 7,11,17, 20. 
 
 Ep. iv. 30 . 
 
 This person can put life and vigour into all he 
 says, yea, and can also put it into your hearts. 
 This person can make seers of you, and can make 
 you tell what shall be hereafter. Ac. xxi. 10,11. By 
 this person you must frame all your petitions to 
 my Father and me, and without his advice and 
 counsel first obtained, let nothing enter into the 
 town or castle of Mansoul, for that may disgust 
 and grieve tlii3 noble person, is. ixiii. 10. 
 
 Take heed, I say, that you do not grieve this"- 
 minister; for if you do, he may fight against you ; 
 and should lie once be moved by you, to set him¬ 
 self against you, against you in battle array, that 
 will distress you more than if twelve legions should 
 from my Father’s court be sent to make war 
 upon you. 
 
 But, as I said, if you shall hearken unto him, 
 and shall love him ; if you shall devote yourselves 
 to his teaching, and shall seek to have converse, 
 and to maintain communion with him; you shall 
 find him ten times better than is the whole world 
 to any. Yea, he will shed abroad the love of my 
 Father in your hearts, and Mansoul will be the 
 wisest and most blessed of all people. 4 1 Co. xiii. xiv. 
 Ro. v. a 
 
 the Bible; who taketh of the things of Jesus, and shows them 
 
 unto us. * He shall teach you all things.’ Jn. xiv. 26. Thanks 
 be to God for an omnipresent, omniscient Comforter.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 Here is a proper display of veneration for the Bible. The 
 use of the ministry is solely that the people might understand 
 law and judgment, statute and commandment; that they might 
 be documented in all things, i.e, furnished with v;ritten evi¬ 
 dence to establish every doctrine.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Mark, reader, how Banyan, as the result of Divine 
 teaching, leads the soul to enter directly into communion with 
 God the Holy Spirit. Here is no need for any man to intro¬ 
 duce you. O the blessedness of communion with this Friend, 
 
320 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
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 SiiSfi 
 
 S 
 
 Ilis limits. 
 
 His caution. 
 
 Tlien did the Prince call unto him the old gentle¬ 
 man, who afore had been the Recorder of Mansoul, 
 Mr. Conscience by name, and told him that for¬ 
 asmuch as he was well shilled in the law and 
 Consciencemade government of the town of Mansoul, 
 a minister. an d was a ]so well spoken, and could 
 
 pertinently deliver to them his Master’s will in all 
 terrene and domestic matters, therefore he would 
 also make him a minister for, in, and to the goodly 
 town of Mansoul, in all the laws, statutes, and 
 judgments of the famous town of Mansoul. And 
 thou must, said the Prince, confine 
 thyself to the teaching of moral virtues, 
 to civil and natural duties; 1 but thou must not 
 attempt to presume to be a revealer of those high 
 and supernatural mysteries that are 
 kept close in the bosom of Shaddai my 
 Father; for those things know no man, nor can 
 any reveal them, but my Father’s Secretary only. 
 
 Thou art a native of the town of Mansoul, but 
 the Lord Secretary is a native with my Father; 
 wherefore, as thou hast knowledge of the laws and 
 customs of the corporation, so he of the things and 
 will of my Father. Wherefore, 0 ! Mr. Conscience, 
 although I have made thee a minister and a preacher 
 in the town of Mansoul; yet as to the things which 
 the Lord Secretary knowetli, and shall teach to 
 this people, there thou must be his scholar, and a 
 learner, even as the rest of Mansoul are. 
 
 Thoumust, therefore, in all high and supernatural 
 things go to him for information and knowledge; 
 for though there be a spirit in man, this person’s 
 inspiration must give him understanding. Job xxxiii. 8. 
 Wherefore, 0! thou Mr. Recorder, keep low and 
 be humble, and remember that the Diabolonians 
 that kept not their first charge, but left their own 
 standing, are now made prisoners in the pit; be 
 therefore content with thy station. I have made 
 thee mv Father’s vicegerent on earth, in such 
 things of which 1 have made mention before. And 
 His power in thou, take thou power to teach them 
 Mansoul. to JVLansoul; yea, and to impose them 
 with whips and chastisements, 2 if they shall not 
 willingly hearken to do thy commandments. 
 
 that cleaveth closer than a brother! who ever liveth, and never 
 slumbereth—always near, even in our hearts—able and willing 
 to help and save to the uttermost.—(E d.) 
 
 1 Having shown Mansoul that the-secret of being the wisest 
 and most blessed of all people is to seek the teaching and 
 communion of the Holy Spirit in the heart, he comes to human 
 ministry, and probably draws his portrait from his pastor 
 Mr. Gifford, or from his own conduct. How much is con¬ 
 tained' in the words, ‘ Moral virtues, and civil and natural 
 duties T Here is love to God, because he first loved us, with 
 all heavenly blessednesses; the whole armour of God, to fit us 
 for the good fight; and the eternal reward of grace, and not 
 of works: an inexhaustible fund for Christian training.- 
 (Ed.) 
 
 2 ‘ Whips and chastisements.’ ‘ A wounded spirit who can 
 
 bear ?’ ‘ Methought I saw as if the sun did grudge to give 
 
 me light .’—Grace Abounding , No. 1S7.— (Ed.) 
 
 Ilis liberty. 
 
 Body. 
 
 The Prince’s 
 speech to Man- 
 soul. 
 
 And, Mr. Recorder, because thou art old, and 
 through many abuses made feeble, 
 therefore I give thee leave and license 
 to go when thou wilt to my fountain, my conduit, 
 and there to drink freely of the blood of my grape, 
 for my conduit * does always run wine. 
 
 Thus doing, thou shalt drive from thy 
 heart and stomach all foul, gross, and hurtful 
 humours. It will also lighten thine eyes, and will 
 strengthen thy memory for the reception and keep¬ 
 ing of all that the King’s most noble Secretary 
 teacheth. He. v. u. 
 
 When the Prince had thus put Mr. Recorder 
 (that once so was) into the place and office of a 
 minister to Mansoul, and the man had thankfully 
 accepted thereof, then did Emmanuel address him¬ 
 self in a particular speech to the townsmen them¬ 
 selves— 3 
 
 ‘ Behold, ’ said the Prince to Mansoul, ‘ my love 
 and care towards you. I have added, 
 to all that is past, this mercy, to ap¬ 
 point you preachers; the most noble 
 Secretary to teach you in all high and sublime 
 mysteries; and this gentleman,’ pointing to Mr. 
 Conscience, ‘is to teach you in all things human 
 and domestic; for therein lieth his work. He is 
 not, by what I have said, debarred of telling to 
 Mansoul anything that he hath heard and received 
 at the mouth of the Lord High Secretary; only he 
 shall not attempt to presume to pretend to be a 
 revealer of those high mysteries himself; for the 
 breaking of them up, and the discovery of them to 
 Mansoul, layetli only in the power, authority, and 
 skill of the Lord High Secretary himself. Talk 
 of them he may, and so may the rest a ii cence to 
 of the town of Mansoul; yea, and may, Mansoul. 
 as occasion gives them opportunity, press them 
 upon each other, for the benefit of the whole. These 
 things, therefore, I would have you observe and do, 
 for it is for your life, and the lengthening of your 
 days. 
 
 ‘ And one thing more to my belovedMr. Recorder, 
 
 and to all the town of Mansoul. You must not 
 
 dwell in nor stay upon anything of that which he 
 
 hath in commission to teach you, as to your trust 
 
 and expectation of the next world; of 
 . . . T n t A world to come 
 
 the next world, 1 say, lor 1 purpose to promised to 
 
 give another to Mansoul, when this Mausoul - 
 
 8 Reader, conscience is the teacher with authority as God’s 
 only vicegerent. Be guided by him in all things; swerve not 
 one jot or tittle from his dictates; especially, in your choice 
 of a minister, examine him jor yourself prayerfully and care¬ 
 fully by the Word (1 Tim. iii.) There are thousands of l)ia- 
 bolonians in the world, under the flimsy disguise of apostolical 
 descent. When you have made your choice, ‘ Esteem him 
 very highly in love for his works’ sake;’ but do not puff him 
 up with pride. One of Bunyan’s hearers said to him, ‘ What 
 an excellent sermon you have preached;’ to which he replied, 
 ‘ The devil told me so before I left the pulpit.’— (Ed.) 
 
 
 * 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 321 
 
 with them is worn out, hut for that you must 
 wholly and solely have recourse to, and make stay 
 upon his doctrine, that is your teacher after the 
 tirst order. Yea, Mr. Recorder himself must not 
 look for life from that which he himself revealeth ; 
 . his dependence for that must he founded in the 
 doctrine of the other preacher. Let Mr. Recorder 
 also take heed that he receive not any doctrine,- or 
 point of doctrine, that are not communicated to him 
 by his superior teacher; nor yet within the pre¬ 
 cincts of his own formal knowledge.’ 1 
 
 Now, after the Prince had thus settled things in 
 the famous town of Mansoul, he proceeded to give 
 
 lie pives them *° e ^ ers ^ ie corporation a 
 caution about necessary caution, to w T it, how they 
 the captains. B jj 0ll ]^ carry it to the high and noble 
 
 captains that he had, from his Father’s court, sent 
 or brought with him to the famous town of 
 Mansoul. , 
 
 ‘ These captains,’ said he, ‘ do love the town of 
 Mansoul, and they are picked men, picked out of 
 
 Graces picked abundance, as men that best suit, and 
 from common that will most faithfully serve in the 
 
 virtues ^ 
 
 wars of Shaddai against the Diabo- 
 lonians, for the preservation of the town of Man¬ 
 soul. I charge you therefore, said he, 0 ye in¬ 
 habitants of the now flourishing town of Mansoul, 
 that you carry it not ruggedly or untowardly to 
 my captains, or their men; since, as I said, they 
 are picked and choice men, men chosen out of 
 many for the good of the town of Mansoul. I say, 
 I charge you, that you carry it not untowardly to 
 them; for though they have the hearts and faces 
 of lions, when at any time they shall be called forth 
 Satan cannot to engage and fight with the King’s 
 graces as °\ve f° es > and the enemies of the town of 
 ourselves may. Mansoul; yet a little discountenance 
 cast upon them from the town of Mansoul will 
 deject and cast down their faces; will weaken and 
 take away their courage. Do not therefore, 0 my 
 beloved, carry it unkindly to my valiant captains 
 and courageous men of war, but love 
 them, nourish them, succour them, and 
 lay them in your bosoms, and they will not only 
 fight for you, but cause to fly from you all those 
 the Diabolonians that seek, and will, if possible, be 
 your utter destruction. 
 
 1 Admirably judicious is this charge to conscience. Its 
 office is to compare the heart and walk of the Christian with 
 the Word of God, and so to judge whether it be good or bad. 
 It has no new doctrines to reveal; it is not the legislator but 
 the minister of the law, ever looking up to the Holy Spirit for 
 his teaching. The office of conscience is one of great purity, 
 yet it is subject to defilement, and must be purified by the 
 blood of Christ. He. ix. 14.—(Burder.) 
 
 With very great respect for the opinions of Mason, Adams, 
 and Burder, in their notes upon the ‘ Holy War,’ I differ with 
 them as to Buuyan’s meaning with regard to these noble 
 captains. All the commentators agree in interpreting the cap- 
 tains to mean gospel ministers, and so giving nine elders to 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Words. 
 
 4 If therefore any of them should, at any time, bo 
 sick or weak, and so not able to perform that office 
 of love which with all their hearts they are willing 
 
 to do—and will do also when well and in health_ 
 
 slight them not, nor despise them, but rather 
 strengthen them, and encourage them, though 
 weak and ready to die, He. xii. 12 ; for they are your 
 fence, and your guard, your wall, your gates, your 
 locks, and your bars. And although, when they 
 are weak, they can do but little, but rather need 
 to be helped by you, than that you should then 
 expect great things from them, yet when well, 
 you know what exploits, what feats and warlike 
 achievements they are able to do, and will perform 
 for you. 
 
 * Besides, if they be weak, the town of Mansoul 
 cannot be strong; if they be strong, then Mansoul 
 cannot ]be weak; your safety therefore doth lie in 
 their health, and in your countenancing of them, 
 is. xxxv. 3. Remember also that if they be r 
 sick, they catch that disease of the town 
 
 of Mansoul itself. 2 Re. iii. 2. l.Th. v. 14. 
 
 ‘ These things I have said unto you, because I 
 love your welfare, and your honour. Observe there¬ 
 fore, 0 my Mansoul, to be punctual in all things 
 that 1 have given in charge unto you, and that not 
 only as a town corporate, and so to your officers 
 and guard, and guides in chief, but to you as you 
 are a people whose well-being, as single persons, 
 depends on the observation of the orders and com¬ 
 mandments of their Lord. 
 
 * Next, 0 my Mansoul, I do warn you of that of 
 which notwithstanding that reforma- A ca „ tion about 
 tion that at present is wrought among the Diaboioni- 
 you, you have need to be warned about. remaininMan- 
 Wherefore hearken diligently unto me. souL 
 
 I am now sure, and you will know hereafter, that 
 there are yet of the Diabolonians remaining in the 
 town of Mansoul; Diabolonians that are sturdy 
 and implacable, and that do already while I am 
 with you, and that will yet more when I am from 
 you, study, plot, contrive, invent, and jointly 
 attempt to bring you to desolation, and so to a 
 state far worse than that of the Egyptian bondage; 
 they are the avowed friends of Diabolus, therefore 
 
 every Christian. Their names are Boanerges, Conviction, 
 Judgment, and Execution, and, under Emmanuel’s reinforce¬ 
 ment, Faith, Hope, Charity, Innocence, and Patience, * sent 
 or brought’ by Emmanuel from his Father’s court. They 
 are ‘the fences, guards, walls, gates, locks, and bars to Man¬ 
 soul.’ If any one of these fail in his duty, the enemy would 
 enter. If they mean ministers of the gospel, this would be 
 trusting indeed to an arm of flesh. No Christian would trust 
 them, if they were all popes, cardinals, archbishops, or bishops. 
 It surely must mean the graces of the Holy Spirit, which being 
 cherished and kept in lively exercise, are the Christian’s safe¬ 
 guard and defence from Diabolus and all the Diabolonians iu 
 hell or on earth. ‘ Except the Lord build the house, they 
 labour in vain that are builders in it: except the Lord keep 
 the city, the watchmen waketli in vain.’ Ps. cxxvii. 1.— (Ed ) 
 
 41 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 090 
 
 O & & 
 
 look about you ; they used heretofore to lodge with 
 their prince in the castle, when Incredulity was 
 the Lord Mayor of this town. Mar. vii. 21, 22. But 
 since my coining hither, they lie more in the out¬ 
 sides, and walls, and have made themselves dens, 
 and caves, and holes, and strong holds theiein. 
 Wherefore, 0 Mansoul, thy work, as to this, will 
 be so much the more difficult and hard. Ro. vii. is. 
 That is, to take, mortify, and put them to death 
 according to the will of my Father. Is 01 can you 
 utterly rid yourselves of them, unless 
 
 Christ would not n o 
 
 have ns destroy you sllOllld pull down tlie walls 01 yOUl 
 
 r/t VeS dX town, the which I am hy no means 
 our sins. billing you should. Do you ask me, 
 What shall we do then? Why, be you diligent, 
 and quit you like men, observe their holds, find 
 out their haunts, assault them, and make no peace 
 with them. Wherever they haunt, lurk, or abide, 
 and what terms of peace soever they offer you, 
 abhor, and all shall be well betwixt you and me. 
 And that you may the better know them from those 
 that are the natives of Mansoul, I will give you 
 this brief schedule of the names of the chief of 
 The names of them, and they are these that follow: 
 StaLS The Lord Fornication, the Lord Adul- 
 Mansoul. tery, the Lord Murder, the Lord Anger, 
 
 the Lord Lasciviousness, the Lord Deceit, the Lord 
 Evil-eye, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Revelling, Mr. 
 Idolatry, Mr. Witchcraft, Mr. Variance, Mr. Emula¬ 
 tion, Mr. Wrath, Mr. Strife, Mr. Sedition, and 
 Mr. Heresy. These are some of the chief, 0 
 Mansoul, of those that will seek to overthrow thee 
 for ever. These, I say, are the skulkers in Man¬ 
 soul, but look thou well into the law of thy King, 
 and there thou shalt find their physiognomy, and 
 such other characteristical notes of them, by which 
 they certainly may be known. 1 
 
 * These, 0 my Mansoul, and I would gladly that 
 you should certainly know it, if they be suffered to 
 run and range about the town as they would, will 
 quickly, like vipers, eat out your bowels, yea, poison 
 your captains, cut the sinews of your soldiers, 
 break the bar and bolts of your gates, and turn 
 your now most flourishing Mansoul into a barren 
 and desolate wilderness, and ruinous heap. Where¬ 
 fore that you may take courage to yourselves to 
 A commission to apprehend these villains wheievei you 
 
 aboloman's ^in find 1 g ive t0 Y 0U m J L ° rd 
 
 Mansoul. Mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. 
 
 Recorder, with all the inhabitants of the town of 
 
 Mansoul, full power and commission to seek out. 
 to take, and to cause to be put to death by the 
 cross, 2 all, and all manner of Diabolonians, when 
 and wherever you shall find them to lurk within, 
 or to range without the walls of the town of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 ‘ I told you before, that I had placed a standing 
 ministry among you, not that you have but these 
 with you, for my four first captains Morepreac]ier5> 
 who came against the master and lord for 
 
 of the Diabolonians that was in Man¬ 
 soul, they can, and if need be, and if they be re¬ 
 quired, will not only privately inform, but publicly 
 preach to the corporation both good and whole¬ 
 some doctrine, and such as shall lead you in the 
 way. Yea, they will set up a weekly, yea, if 
 need be, a daily lecture in thee, 0 Mansoul; and 
 will instruct thee in such profitable lessons, that if 
 
 heeded, will do thee good at the end. And 
 take good heed that you spare not the men 
 that you have a commission to take and crucify. 
 
 ‘ Now as I have set out before your eyes the 
 vagrants and runagates by name, so I will tell you 
 that among yourselves some of them A caution . 
 shall creep in to beguile you, even 
 such as would seem, and that in appearance, aie 
 very rife and hot for religion. And they, if you 
 watch not, will do you a mischief, such an one as 
 at present you cannot think of. 
 
 ‘ These, as I said, will show themselves to you 
 in another hue than those under description before.. 
 Wherefore, Mansoul, watch and be sober, and suffer 
 not thyself to be betrayed.’ 3 
 
 When the Prince had thus far new modelled the 
 town of Mansoul, and had instructed them in such 
 matters as were profitable for them to know, then 
 he appointed another day, in which he intended, 
 when the townsfolk came together, to bestow a 
 further badge of honour upon the town An0 ^ ei . p r ivi- 
 of Mansoul; a badge that should ^ for kan * 
 distinguish them from all the people, 
 kindreds, and tongues that dwell in the kingdom 
 of Universe. Now it was not long before the day 
 appointed was come, and the Prince and his people 
 met in the King’s palace, where first Emmanuel 
 made a short speech unto them, and then did for 
 them as he had said, and unto them as he had 
 promised. 
 
 My Mansoul, said lie, that which I now am about 
 to do, is to make you known to the His speech to 
 world to be mine, and to distinguish 
 
 1 ‘ Physiognomy ’ and ‘ characteristical’ are unusually hard 
 words for Bunyan to use; the meaning is that these Diabo- 
 lonian skulkers cannot be so disguised as to avoid a prayerful 
 scrutiny. The Word is the test. The aid of the Spirit is 
 needful; therefore must our prayer be, ‘ Search me, and try 
 me,’ and crucify any of these Diabolonians, who, lurking in my 
 soul, are enemies to its peace and happiness.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Christian, mark well your duty not only publicly to put 
 
 cn Christ, but at the market-cross deny and crucify sin. The 
 
 drunkard, in the presence of his companions, is to deny him¬ 
 self, and to denounce the misery of his former indulgences; 
 and so of every class or grade of sinnei s. 
 
 ‘ I’m not ashamed to own my Lord.’—(E d.) 
 
 3 How needful a caution is this, lest we should be deceived 
 by spiritual pride, self-righteousness, self-seeking, and super¬ 
 stition!—(Burder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 323 
 
 you also in your own eyes, from all false traitors 
 that may creep in among you. 
 
 Then lie commanded that those that waited upon 
 him should go and bring forth out of his treasury 
 
 vniite robes tll0se wllite aiul glistering robes that 
 > ’ I, said he, have provided and laid up 
 
 in store for my Mansoul. So the white garments 
 were fetched out of his treasury, and laid forth to 
 the eyes of the people. Moreover, it was granted 
 to them that they should take them and put them 
 on, according, said he, to your size and stature. 
 So the people w^ero put into white, into fine linen, 
 white and clean. Re. x«. a 
 
 Then said the Prince unto them, This, 0 Man- 
 soul, is my lively, and the badge by which mine 
 are known from the servants of others. Yea, it 
 is that which I grant to all that are mine, and 
 v ithout which no man is permitted to see my face. 
 AN ear them therefore for my sake who gave them 
 unto you; and also if you w^ould be known by the 
 world to be mine. 
 
 But now! can you think how Mansoul shone? 
 It was fair as the sun, clear as the moon, and 
 terrible as an army with banners. Ca. vi. 
 
 The Prince added further, and said, ]S T o prince, 
 Tiiat which dis- potentate, or mighty one of Universe, 
 
 mSu! 1 'from g iveth tIlIs livery but myself; behold 
 other people, therefore, as I said before, you shall 
 be known by it to be mine 
 
 And now, said he, I have given you my livery, 
 let me give you also in commandment concerning 
 them ; and be sure that you take good heed to my 
 w'ords. First , Wear them daily, day by day, lest 
 you should at sometimes appear to others as if 
 you were none of mine. Secondly , Keep them 
 always white, for, if they be soiled, it is dishonour 
 to me. Ec. ix. 8. Thirdly, Wherefore gird them up 
 from the ground, and let them not lag with dust 
 and dirt. Fourthly, Take heed that you lose them 
 not, lest you walk naked, and they see your shame. 1 
 Re. iii. 2 . Fifthly, But if you should sully them, if 
 you should defile them—the which I am greatly 
 unwilling you should, and the prince Diabolus 
 would be glad if you would—then speed you to do 
 that which is written in my law, that yet you may 
 stand, and not fall before me, and before my 
 throne. Lu. xxi. se. Also this is the way to cause 
 that I may not leave you nor forsake you while 
 here, but may dwell in this town of Mansoul for 
 ever. Re. vil. i&- 17. 
 
 And now was Mansoul, and the inhabitants of 
 it, as the signet upon Emmanuel’s right hand; 
 where was there now a town, a city, a corporation 
 
 1 If by sin we lose the sense of being clothed with the gar- 
 nicuts ot salvation, how does the soul feel itA' nakedness and 
 vileness. ‘ 0 wretched man!’ is the cry; the conscience is 
 
 wounded, God dishonoured, and the Holy Spirit grieved.— 
 (iau.) 
 
 that could compare with Mansoul—a town re¬ 
 deemed from the hand and from the power of 
 Diabolus—a town that the Kino- TI , . 
 oliaduai loved, and that he sent Em- of Mansoul. 
 manuel to regain from the prince of the infernal 
 cave yea, a town that Emmanuel loved to dwell 
 in, and that he chose for his royal habitation—a 
 town that he fortified for himself, and made strong 
 by the force of his army? What shall I say ? Mam 
 soul has now a most excellent Prince, golden 
 captains and men of war, weapons proved, and 
 garments as white as snow. Nor are these benefits 
 to be counted little but great. Can the town of 
 Mansoul esteem them so, and improve them to that 
 end and purpose for which they are bestowed upon 
 them ? 
 
 When the Prince had thus completed the model¬ 
 ling of the town, to show that he had great delight 
 in the work of his hands, and took, pleasure in the 
 good that he had wrought for the famous and 
 flourishing Mansoul, he commanded, and they set 
 his standard upon the battlements of the castle. 
 And then, 
 
 First, He gave them frequent visits, not a day 
 now but the elders of Mansoul must come to him, 
 or he to them, into his palace. Now they must 
 walk and talk together of all the great things that 
 he had done, and yet further promised to do for 
 the town of Mansoul. 2 Co. vi. ie. Thus would ho 
 
 ? fte 1 y ith ., the Lord - Ma y° r > “y Understanding, 
 
 Lord Will-be-will, and the honest sub- r f' lie will, 
 ordinate preacher Mr. Conscience, and Mr. Recor¬ 
 der. But 0! how graciously, how lovingly, how 
 courteously, and tenderly did this blessed prince 
 now carry it towards the town of Mansoul! In all 
 the streets, gardens, orchards, and other places 
 where he came, to be sure the poor nun^ry 
 should have liis blessing and benedic- thoughts .2 
 tion; yea, he would kiss them, and if they were 
 ill, he would lay hands on them, and make them 
 well. The captains also he would daily, yea, some¬ 
 times hourly encourage with his presence and 
 goodly words. For you must know that a smile 
 from him upon them would put more vigour, more 
 life and stoutness into them, than would anything 
 else under heaven. 
 
 The Prince would now also feast them, and with 
 them continually. Hardly a week would pass but 
 a banquet must be had betwixt him and them. 
 
 1 Co. v. 8 . You may remember that some pages be¬ 
 fore we made mention of one feast that they had 
 together, but now to feast them was a thing more 
 common ; every day with Mansoul was a feast day 
 now. Nor did he, when they returned to their 
 
 2 * Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righ¬ 
 teousness, for they shall be tilled.’ A smile from Jesus puts 
 vigour and life into the soul.— (Ed.) 
 
324 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 2 A token of hon¬ 
 our. 
 
 3 A token of 
 beauty. 
 
 * A token of 
 pardon. 
 
 places, send them empty away, either they must 
 have aWing. a 2 gold chain, a°bracelet, 
 
 \ A fnVpYi mpr. “ 7 O 
 
 riage. [‘Thy a 4 white stone, or something-; so dear 
 husband/] d ' y was Mansoul to him now; so lovely 
 was Mansoul in his eyes. 5 
 
 Secondly , When the elders and 
 townsmen did not come to him, he 
 would send in much plenty of provi¬ 
 sion unto them, meat that came from court, wine 
 and bread that were prepared for his Father’s 
 table. Yea, such delicates would he send unto 
 them, and therewith would so cover their table, 
 that whoever saw it confessed that the like could 
 not be seen in any kingdom. 
 
 Thirdly, If Mansoul did not frequently visit him 
 as he desired they should, he would walk out to 
 them, knock at their doors and desire entrance, 
 that amity might be maintained betwixt them and 
 „ , , him. If they did hear and open to him, 
 
 wandering as commonly they would, if they were 
 at home, then would he renew his 
 former love, and confirm it too with some new 
 
 tokens and signs of continued favour. Re. iii. 20. 
 
 vation of it, that so long as all things went in Man¬ 
 soul as this sweet-natured gentleman would, the 
 town was in most happy condition. Now there 
 were no jars, no chiding, no interferings, no un¬ 
 faithful doings in all the town of Mansoul, every 
 man in Mansoul kept close to his own employment. 
 The gentry, the officers, the soldiers, and all in 
 place observed their order. And as Holy conceptions, 
 for the women and children of the Good thoughts. 
 
 town, they followed their business joyfully, they 
 would work and sing, work and sing from morning 
 till night; so that quite through the town of Man¬ 
 soul now, nothing was to be found but harmony, 
 quietness, joy, and health. And this lasted all 
 that summer. 0 
 
 [Chapter XII.] 
 
 [Contents :—Carnal-security prevailing in the town, a cool¬ 
 ness takes place between the inhabitants and Emmanuel; 
 who, being greatly offended, privately withdraws—Godly- 
 fear, who detects the cause of his removal, excites the 
 people to destroy Mr. Carnal-secunty—Measures are then 
 taken to induce Emmanuel to return.] 
 
 Ca. v. 2 . 
 
 And was it not now amazing to behold, that in 
 that very place where sometimes Diabolus had his 
 abode, and entertained his Diabolonians to the 
 almost utter destruction of Mansoul, the Prince of 
 princes should sit eating and drinking with them, 
 while all his mighty captains, men of war, trumpet¬ 
 ers, with the singing-men and singing-women of 
 his Father, stood round about to wait upon them! 
 
 Now did Mansoul’s cup run over, now 
 
 Mansoul’sglory. , 
 
 did her conduits run sweet wine, now 
 did she eat the finest of the wheat, and drink milk 
 and honev out of the rock! Now she said, How 
 great is his goodness! for since I found favour in 
 his eyes, how honourable have I been! 
 
 The blessed Prince did also order a new officer 
 in the town, and a goodly person he was ; his name 
 was Mr. God’s-peace. Col. iii. 15. This man was set 
 over my Lord Will-be-will, my Lord Mayor, Mr. 
 Recorder, the subordinate Preacher, Mr. Mind, 
 and over all the natives of the town of Mansoul. 
 Himself was not a native of it, but came with the 
 Prince Emmanuel from the court. He was a 
 great acquaintance of Captain Credence and Cap¬ 
 tain Goodhope; some say they were kin, and I 
 am of that opinion too. Ro. xv. 13. This man, as I 
 said, was made governor of the town in general, 
 especially over the castle, and Captain Credence 
 was to help him there. And I made great obser- 
 
 6 How blessed is the Christian who lives in the holy enjoy¬ 
 ment of his high and heavenly privileges 1 Every day is a 
 feast-day, bringing fresh discoveries of grace and foretastes of 
 glory.— -(Ed.) 
 
 6 This is a beautiful representation of the holy enjoyment 
 of Divine things, when the soul is emancipated from sin, and 
 enjoys a little heaven on earth. It is in Bunyan’s Grace 
 
 Mr. Self-conceit. 
 
 But there was a man in the town of Mansoul, 
 and his name was Mr. Carnal-security. 7 This 
 man did, after all this mercy bestowed The story of Mr. 
 On this Corporation, bring the town of Carnal-security. 
 
 Mansoul into great and grievous slavery and bond¬ 
 age. A brief account of him and of his doings 
 take as followeth:— 
 
 When Diabolus at first took possession of the 
 town of Mansoul, he brought thither with himself 
 a great number of Diabolonians, men of his own 
 condition. Now among these there was one whose 
 name was Mr. Self-conceit, and a not¬ 
 able brisk man he was, as any that in 
 those days did possess the town of Mansoul. Dia¬ 
 bolus then perceiving this man to be active and 
 bold, sent him upon many desperate designs, the 
 which he managed better, and more to the pleas¬ 
 ing of his Lord, than most that came with him 
 from the dens could do. Wherefore finding of him 
 so fit for his purpose, he preferred him, and made 
 him next to the great Lord Will-be-will, of whom 
 we have written so much before. Now the Lord 
 Will-be-will being in those days very well pleased 
 with him, and with his achievements, gave him his 
 daughter, the Lady Fear-nothing, to wife. Now 
 of my Lady Fear-nothing did this Mr. Carnal-securi- 
 Self-conceit beget this gentleman Mr. ty ’ s orl ° ma1. 
 Carnal-security. Wherefore there being then in 
 Mansoul those strange kinds of mixtures, it was 
 
 Aboundivg, No. 252—‘I had strange apprehensions of the 
 grace of God, so that I could hardly bear up under it; it was 
 so out of measure amazing, that I think if it had abode long 
 upon me, it would have made me incapable of business.’— 
 
 (Ed-) . . . . , 
 
 1 Carnal security, or comfort and security in the flesh, 
 instead of living on Christ by faith.-—(E d.) 
 
 
 
 
 
THE IIOLY WAR. 
 
 r» r) ~ 
 
 O 20 
 
 hard for them in some cases to fmd out who were 
 natives, who not; for Mr. Carnal-security sprang 
 from my Lord Wili-be-will by mother’s side, though 
 ho had for his father a Diabolonian bv nature. 1 * 
 
 V 
 
 Well, this Carnal-security took much after his 
 father and mother; he was self-con- 
 
 Iiis qualities. i . 1 • -j ■» 
 
 ceited, lie reared nothing, lie was also 
 a very busy man ; nothing of news, nothing of 
 doctrine, nothing of alteration, or talk of alteration, 
 could at any time be on foot in Mansoul, but be 
 sure Mr. Carnal-security would be at the head or 
 tail of it; but to be sure he would decline those 
 lie is always for ^ iat * ie deemed the weakest, and 
 side stron ° est stood always with them, in his way of 
 standing, that he supposed was the 
 strongest side. 
 
 Now when Shaddai the mighty, and Emmanuel 
 his Son made war upon Mansoul to take it, this 
 Mr. Carnal-security was then in town, and was a 
 great doer among the people, encouraging, them in 
 their rebellion, putting of them upon hardening of 
 themselves in their resisting of the King’s forces ; 
 but when he saw that the town of Mansoul was 
 taken and converted to the use of the glorious 
 Prince Emmanuel, and when he also saw what 
 was become of Diabolus, and how he was unroosted, 
 and made to quit the castle in the greatest con¬ 
 tempt and scorn, and that the town of Mansoul 
 was well lined with captains, engines of war, and 
 men, and also provision, what doth he but slily 
 wheel about also; and as he had served Diabolus 
 against the good Prince, so he feigned that he 
 would serve the Prince against his foes. 
 
 And having got some little smattering of 
 Emmanuel’s things by the end,” being bold, he 
 ventures himself into the company of the towns¬ 
 men, and attempts also to chat among them. Now 
 IiowMr.Carnai- lie knew that the power and strength 
 tiie'miseiy'of °f the town of Mansoul was great, and 
 Mansoul. that jj- cou u no t but be pleasing to the 
 people if he cried up their might and their glory. 
 Wherefore he beginneth his tale with the power 
 and strength of Mansoul, and affirmed that it was 
 impregnable. Now magnifying their captains, and 
 their slings, and their rams; then crying up their 
 fortifications, and strong holds; and lastly, the 
 assurances that they had from their Prince that 
 Mansoul should be happy for ever. But when he 
 
 1 Vices are so disguised, that no merely human vigilance 
 or sagacity can detect them lurking in the walls of Mansoul; 
 hence the necessity of the cry, ‘ Search me, and try me, 0 
 God.’— (Ed.) 
 
 2 1 have not been able to liud any illustration of this say- 
 ing. It probably means, that without any inquiry into the 
 former state of Mansoul—its lost, helpless, hopeless, miserable 
 condition, and its cry, Lord, save, I perish 1 Carnal-security, 
 proud of the elevation of Mansoul, considered it safe, without 
 the trouble of prayer or watchfulness. How essential it is 
 that we examine premises before we jump at conclusions, or 
 take things by the end 1—(Ed.) 
 
 saw that some of the men of the town were tickled 
 and taken with his discourse, he makes it his 
 business, and walking from street to street, house 
 to house, and man to man, he at last brought 
 Mansoul to dance after his pipe, and to grow 
 almost as carnally secure as himself; so from 
 talking they went to feasting, and from feasting 
 to sporting; and so to some other matters. Now 
 Emmanuel was yet in the town of Mansoul, and 
 he wisely observed their doings. My Lord Mayor, 
 my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder, were also 
 all taken with the words of this tattling Diabolonian 
 gentleman, forgetting that their Prince had given 
 them warning before to take heed that they were 
 not beguiled with any Diabolonian sleight. He 
 had further told them that the secur- It i3 not grace 
 ity of the now flourishing town of received, but 
 Mansoul, did not so much lie in her ed, tbat° P pre- 
 present fortifications and force, as in fSm S 6 tempprai 
 her so using of what she had, as might dan S ers * 
 oblige her Emmanuel to abide within her castle. 3 
 Por the right doctrine of Emmanuel was, that the 
 town of Mansoul should take heed that they forget 
 not his Father’s love and his; also that they should 
 so demean themselves as to continue to keep them¬ 
 selves therein. Now this was not the way to do 
 it, namely, to fall in love with one of the Dia- 
 bolonians, and with such an one too as Mr. Carnal- 
 security was, and to be led up and down by the 
 nose by him. 4 They should have heard their 
 Prince, feared their Prince, loved their Prince, and 
 have stoned this naughty pack to death, and took 
 care to have walked in the ways of their Prince’s 
 prescribing, for then should their peace have been 
 as a river, when their righteousness had been like 
 the waves of the sea. 
 
 Now when Emmanuel perceived that, through the 
 policy of Mr. Carnal-security, the hearts of the men 
 of Mansoul were chilled, and abated in their practical 
 love to him ; 5 first, he bemoans them, and condoles 
 their state with the Secretary, saying, 0 that my 
 people had hearkened unto me, and Emmanuel be- 
 that Mansoul had walked in my ways! moans Mansoul. 
 I would have fed them with the finest of the wheat, 
 and with honey out of the rock would I have sustained 
 them. Ps. lxxxi. 16. This done, he said in his heart, 
 
 8 Carnal-security, the offspring of Self-conceit and Fear¬ 
 
 nothing, is one of our most subtle enemies, and needs our 
 
 utmost vigilance. To rejoice in our fortifications, or the doc¬ 
 trines of grace, is our duty and privilege; but all our trust 
 must be in our living union to our ever-living Head.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 * Led by the noseto discover by any strong smell; to 
 
 be led without resistance, or inquiring the reason.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 A child in religion would naturally inquire why Carnal- 
 security was not forthwith seized, tried, and executed. But by 
 the time that he had rendered himself liable to punishment no 
 jury could have been found in Mansoul to convict him. God’s 
 ways are not as our w r ays; he is permitted to carry on his 
 treason, that the solid peace of Mansoul might be promoted. 
 Thus ‘ the bitter comes before the sweet, to make the sweet 
 the sweeter.’— (Ed.) 
 
826 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 I will return to the court and go to my place, 
 till Mansoul shall consider and acknowledge their 
 offence. And he did so, and the cause rmd man¬ 
 ner of his going away from them was thus— 
 
 The cause was, for that Mansoul declined him, 
 
 The wav of Man- as 1S man if est in these particulars, 
 soul’s backslid- 1 . They left off their former way of 
 
 UJtr, ^ * 
 
 visiting of him, they came not to his 
 royal palace as afore. 2. They did not regard,, 
 nor yet take notice that he came, or came not to 
 visit them. 3. The love-feasts that had wont to 
 be between their Prince and them, though he made 
 them still, and called them to them, yet they 
 neglected to come at them, or to be delighted with 
 them. 4. They waited not for his counsels, but 
 began to be headstrong and confident in them¬ 
 selves, concluding that now they were strong and 
 invincible, and that Mansoul was secure, and be¬ 
 yond all reach of the foe, and that her state must 
 needs he unalterable for ever. 1 
 
 Now, as was said, Emmanuel perceiving that 
 by the craft of Mr. Carnal-security, the town of 
 Mansoul was taken off from their dependence upon 
 him, and upon his Father by him, and set upon 
 what by them was bestowed upon it; he first, as 
 I said, bemoaned their state, then he used means 
 to make them understand that the way that they 
 went on in was dangerous. For he sent my Lord 
 High Secretary to them, to forbid them such ways; 
 but twice when he came to them he found them at 
 dinner in Mr. Carnal-security’s parlour, and per¬ 
 ceiving also that they were not willing to reason 
 
 They grieve the about matters concerning their good, 
 c/ma ll0stand to °k grief and went his way. The 
 which when he had told to the Prince 
 Emmanuel, he took offence, and was grieved also, 
 and so made provision to return to his Father’s 
 court. 
 
 Now the methods of his withdrawing, as I was 
 saying before, were thus, 1. Even while he was 
 
 Christ with- ff et Wltl1 tliem 111 Mansoul, he kept 
 at once n0t ^ * limse ^ close, and more retired than 
 formerly. 2. His speech was not now, 
 if he came in their company, so pleasant and fa¬ 
 miliar as formerly. 3. Nor did he, as in times past, 
 send to Mansoul from his table those dainty bits 
 which he was wont to do. 4. Nor when they came 
 to visit him, as now and then they would, would 
 he be so easily spoken with as they found him to 
 be in times past. They might now knock once, 
 
 The working of J ea twice, but lie would seem not at 
 tiicir afiections. a p re g ar j them ; whereas formerly, 
 
 at the sound of their feet, he would up and run, 
 and meet them half way, and take them too, and 
 lay them in his bosom. 
 
 1 .0 Christian, beware of the first step in backsliding! 
 
 Y\ hile you seek the Saviour’s face, and walk humbly with 
 God. you are safe.—(Er>.) 
 
 But thus Emmanuel carried it now, and by this 
 his carriage he sought to make them bethink them¬ 
 selves and return to him. But, alas! they did not 
 consider, they did not know his ways, they re¬ 
 garded not, they were not touched with 
 these, nor with the true remembrance IIe 18 gone ‘ 
 of former favours. Wherefore what does he but 
 in private manner withdraw himself, first from his 
 palace, then to the gate of the town, and so away 
 from Mansoul he goes, till they should acknowledge 
 their offence, and more earnestly seek his face. 
 Ho. v. is. Mr. God’s-peace also laid down his com¬ 
 mission, and would for the present act no longer 
 in the town of Mansoul. 2 Eze. xi. 21 . 
 
 Thus they walked contrary to him, and he again 
 by way of retaliation, walked contrary to them. 
 Le. xxvi. 21 - 24 . But, alas! by this time they were so 
 hardened in their way, and had so drunk in the 
 doctrine of Mr. Carnal-security, that the depart¬ 
 ing of their Prince touched them not, nor was he 
 remembered by them when gone; and so, of con¬ 
 sequence, his absence not condoled by them. Je.ii. 32 . 
 
 Now there was a day wherein this old gentleman 
 Mr. Carnal-security did again make a Atrick put upon 
 feast for the town of Mansoul, and Mr - Godly-fear, 
 there was at that time in the town one Mr. Godly- 
 fear, one now but little set by, though formerly one 
 of great request. This man old Carnal-security 
 had a mind, if possible, to gull and debauch, and 
 abuse as he did the rest, and therefore He goes to the 
 he now bids him to the feast with his al ^ e si ^ 
 neighbours; so the. day being come stranger, 
 they prepare, and he goes and appears with the 
 rest of the guests; and being all set at the table, 
 they did eat and drink, and were merry even all 
 but this one man. For Mr. Godly-fear sat like a 
 stranger, and did neither eat, nor was merry. The 
 which when Mr. Carnal-security perceived, he pre¬ 
 sently addressed himself in a speech thus to him: 
 
 Carn. Mr. Godly-fear, are you not well ? you 
 seem to be ill of body or mind, or both. Talk betwixt 
 I have a cordial of Mr. Forget-good’s curity^aMr' 
 making, the which, Sir, if you will take Godli-fear, 
 a dram of, I hope it may make you bonny and 
 blithe, and so make you more fit for we feasting 
 companions. 
 
 Godly. Unto whom the good old gentleman 
 discreetly replied. Sir, I thank you for all things 
 courteous and civil, but for your cordial I have no 
 list thereto. But a word to the natives of Man¬ 
 soul—you the elders and chief of Mansoul, to me 
 it is strange to see you so jocund and merry, when 
 the town of Mansoul is in such woful case. 
 
 Carn. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, You want 
 sleep, good Sir, I doubt. If you please lie down 
 and take a nap, and we, meanwhile, will be merry. 
 
 2 Christ and the Spirit, and consequently peace, withdraw 
 from the carnally secure.—(Mason.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 327 
 
 Godly. Then said llie good man as follows, Sir, 
 if you were not destitute of an honest heart, you 
 could not do as you have done, and do. 
 
 Carn. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, Why ? 
 
 Godly. Nay, pray interrupt me not. It is true 
 the town of Mansoul was strong, and, with a pro¬ 
 viso, impregnable; but you, the townsmen, have 
 weakened it, and it now lies obnoxious to its foes; 
 nor is it a time to flatter, or be silent. It is you, 
 Mr. Carnal-security, that have wilily stripped Man- 
 soul, and driven her glory from her; you have 
 pulled down her towers, you have broken down her 
 gates, you have spoiled her locks and bars. 
 
 And now to explain myself. From that time that 
 my Lords of Mansoul and you, Sir, grew so great, 
 from that time the strength of Mansoul has been 
 offended, and now he is arisen and is gone. 1 If 
 any shall question the truth of my words, I will 
 answer him by this, and such like questions: 
 Where is the Prince Emmanuel ? When did a man 
 or woman in Mansoul see him ? When did you hear 
 from him, or taste any of his dainty bits ? You are 
 now a feasting with this Diabolonian monster, but 
 he is not your prince. I say, therefore, though 
 enemies from without, had you taken heed, could 
 not have made a prey of you, yet since you have 
 sinned against your Prince, your enemies within 
 have been too hard for you. 
 
 Carn. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, Fie, fie, 
 Mr. Godly-fear, fie; will you never shake off your 
 timorousness ? Are you afraid of being sparrow- 
 blasted ? 2 Who hath hurt you ? Behold I am on 
 your side, only you are for doubting, and I am for 
 being confident.' 3 Besides, is this a time to be sad 
 in ? A feast is made for mirth; why then do ye 
 now, to your shame and our trouble, break out into 
 such passionate melancholy language, when you 
 should eat, and drink, and be merry ? 
 
 Godly. Then said Mr. Godly-fear again, I may 
 well be sad, for Emmanuel is gone from Mansoul. 
 I say again, he is gone, and you, Sir, are the man 
 that has driven him away; yea he is gone without 
 so much as acquainting the nobles of Mansoul with 
 his going, and if that is not a sign of ,his anger I 
 am not acquainted with the methods of godliness. 4 
 His speech to And now, my lords and gentlemen— 
 
 Mansou* 8 ° f ^ or s P eec ^ still to you—your gra¬ 
 dual declining from him did provoke 
 
 1 ‘ Pride c/oeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit be¬ 
 fore a fall.’ Pr. xvi. 18.—(Ed.) 
 
 2 This is an obsolete term, alluding to a man being as much 
 alarmed at the twitter of a sparrow, as at the blast of a trum¬ 
 pet urging him to deeds of war.—(E d.) 
 
 3 Carm\l-security has got into the scorner’s seat—a fearful 
 state. Lord Erskine said, ‘ 1 respect Lawyer Dalton’s doubts 
 more than some men’s certainties.’ The late venerable How¬ 
 land Hill, when appealed to by one of those carnally-secure 
 professors, said to him, * Sir, as you have no doubts, then I 
 shall both doubt of you and for you.’ Doubts of the merits 
 or willingness of Christ to save are very sinful, and there are 
 
 him gradually to depart from you, the which ho 
 did for some time, if perhaps you would have been 
 made sensible thereby, and have been renewed by 
 humbling of yourselves; but when he saw that none 
 would regard, nor lav these fearful beginnings of 
 his anger and judgment to heart, he went away 
 from this place, and this I saw with mine eye. 
 Wherefore now, while you boast, your strength is 
 gone, you are like the man that had lost his lochs 
 that before did wave about his shoulders. 5 You 
 may with this lord of your feast shake yourselves, 
 and conclude to do as at other times; but since 
 without him you can do nothing, and he is departed 
 from you, turn your feast into a sigh, and your 
 mirth into lamentation. 6 * 
 
 Then the subordinate Preacher, old Mr. Con¬ 
 science by name, he that of old was Be- conscience 
 corder of Mansoul, being startled at what startletL 
 was said, began to second it thus. 
 
 Con. Indeed, my brethren, quoth he, I fear that 
 Mr. Godly-fear tells us true: I, for my part, have 
 not seen my Prince a long season. I cannot re¬ 
 member the day for my part. Nor can I answer 
 Mr. Godly-fear’s question. I doubt, I am afraid 
 that all is naught with Mansoul. 
 
 Godly. Nay, I know that you shall not find him 
 in Mansoul, for he is departed and gone; yea, and 
 gone for the faults of the elders, and for that 
 they rewarded his grace with unsufferable unkind¬ 
 nesses. 
 
 Then did the subordinate Preacher look as if he 
 would fall down dead at the table, also They are all 
 all there present, except the man of the aghast, 
 house, began to look pale and wan. But hav¬ 
 ing a little recovered themselves and jointly agree¬ 
 ing to believe Mr. Godly-fear and his sayings, they 
 began to consult what was best to be done (now 
 Mr. Carnal-security was gone into his withdrawing 
 room, for he liked not such dumpish doings) both 
 to the man of the house for drawing them into evil, 
 and also to recover Emmanuel’s love. 
 
 And with that, that saying of their Prince came 
 very hot into their minds, whicli he had bidden 
 them do to such as were false prophets that should 
 arise to delude the town of Mansoul. They consult 
 So they took Mr. Carnal-security, feast-muster’s 
 concluding that he must be he, and llouse * 
 
 seasons when the Christian rises above all doubts; but while 
 
 we have a sinful heart of unbelief, doubts, like clouds, will 
 
 arise to obscure the Sun of righteousness.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Sin grieves the Holy Spirit, and causes the Lord to hide 
 his face. In humble, close walking with God, is our safety, 
 comfort, and peace; but departing from the Lord’s ways brings 
 darkness and distress to the soul.—(Mason.) 
 
 5 Samson; see Ju. xvi. 
 
 6 Godly-fear cannot be stupified with Eorget-good’s cordial. 
 He is not like the man who ‘ lost his locks.’ 
 
 < So Samson, when his hair was lost, 
 
 Met the Philistine* to his cost; 
 
 Shook his vain limbs with sad surprise, 
 
 Made feeble tight, and lost his eyes.’—(Watts.) 
 
32S 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 burned his house upon him with fire, for he also 
 was a Diabolonian by nature. 
 
 So when this was past and over, they bespeed 
 themselves to look for Emmanuel their Prince, and 
 they sought him, but they found him not. Cant. v. 6. 
 Then were they more confirmed in the truth of Mr. 
 Godly-fear’s sayings, and began also severely to 
 reflect upon themselves for their so vile and un¬ 
 godly doings; for they concluded now that it was 
 through them that their Prince had left them. 
 
 Then they agreed and went to my Lord Secre- 
 They apply them- tary, him whom before they refused 
 Ghost :°but he°is to hear > him.whom they had grieved 
 grieved, &c. with, their doings, to know of him, for 
 he was a seer and could tell where Emmanuel was, 
 and how they might direct a petition to him. But 
 the Lord Secretary would not admit them to a con¬ 
 ference about this matter, nor would admit them 
 to his royal place of abode, nor come out to them 
 to show them his face, or intelligence, is. ixm. 10. 
 
 Ep. iv. 30. 1 Th. v. 13. 
 
 And now was it a day, gloomy and dark, a day 
 of clouds and of thick darkness with Mansoul. 
 Now they saw that they had been foolish, and be¬ 
 gan to perceive what the company and prattle of 
 Mr. Carnal-security had done, and what desperate 
 damage his swaggering words had brought poor 
 Mansoul into. But what further it was like to cost 
 them, that they were ignorant of. Now Mr. Godly- 
 fear began again to be in repute with the men of 
 the town: yea, they were ready to look upon him 
 as a prophet. 
 
 Well, when the Sabbath-day was come, they 
 went to hear their subordinate Preacher ; but 0 
 how he did thunder and lighten this day ! His text 
 was that in the prophet Jonah, ‘ They that observe 
 lying vanities forsake their own mercies.’ ii. 8. But 
 A thundering there was then such power and author- 
 
 sermon. ity in that sermon, and such a dejec¬ 
 tion seen in the countenances of the people that 
 day, that the like hath seldom been heard or seen. 
 The people, when sermon was done, were scarce 
 able to go to their homes, or to betake themselves 
 to their employs the week after, they were so ser¬ 
 mon-smitten, and also so sermon-sick by being 
 smitten, that they knew not what to do. Ho. v. 13. 
 
 He did not only show to Mansoul their sin, but 
 
 1 The sermon and its effects remind us strongly of Runyan’s 
 Barren Fig-tree. * Cut it down ! Fetch out the axe ! The 
 Lord shakes the sinner, and whirls him upon a sick-bed. 
 Death, fetch him away to the fire—fetch this barren professor 
 to hell! Death and hell are at his bed-side, with grim looks, 
 staring him in the face.’ This passage in the ‘ Holy War ’ 
 probably led the author, two years after, to preach and pub¬ 
 lish that smart sermon, so full of thunder and lightning, from 
 the text put into the mouth of Boanerges.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 How does a carnal careless walk obscure the eye of faith, 
 
 whose evidences become weaker, until revived by the Word 
 
 and Spirit of God!—(Mason.) ‘ I could, for whole days to¬ 
 
 gether, feel my very body, as well as my mind, to shake aud 
 
 did tremble before them, under the sense of his 
 own, still crying out of himself, as he 
 
 7 j o 7 •pug subordinate 
 
 preached to them, Unhappy man that Preacher doth 
 
 I am ! that I should do so wicked a hig n f^itf S and 
 
 thing ! That I ! a preacher! whom be ]^nee 1US with 
 
 the Prince did set up to teach to Man- Mr. Carnal-se- 
 
 soul his law, should myself live sense- Cunty ‘ 
 
 less, and sottishly here, and be one of the first 
 
 found in transgression. This transgression also 
 
 fell within my precincts, I should have cried out 
 
 against the wickedness, but I let Mansoul lie wal- 
 
 o 7 
 
 lowing in it, until it had driven Emmanuel from its 
 borders. With these things he also charged all 
 the lords and gentry of Mansoul, to the almost 
 distracting of them. Ps. lxxxviii. 
 
 About this time also there was a great sickness 
 in the town of Mansoul, and most of a greatsickness 
 the inhabitants were greatly afflicted; m Mansoul - 
 yea, the captains also, and men of war, were brought 
 thereby to a languishing condition, and that for a 
 long time together; so that in case of an invasion, 
 nothing could to purpose now have sin ao(h caMe 
 been done, either by the townsmen or to be weak, 
 
 r. , ! n? r\ 1 1 r. both body, and 
 
 held officers. 0 how many pale faces, 8 oui, and 
 weak hands, feeble knees, and stagger- graces ‘ 
 ing men were now seen to Avalk the streets of Man¬ 
 soul. 1 Here were groans, there pants, and yonder 
 lay those that were ready to faint. 2 He.xii. 12 , 13 . Re. iii. 2 . 
 
 The garments too which Emmanuel had given 
 them were but in a sorry case; some were rent, 
 some were torn, and all in a nasty condition; some 
 also did hang so loosely upon them, that the next 
 bush they came at was ready to pluck them off. 
 
 Is. iii. 24 . 
 
 After some time spent in this sad and desolate 
 condition, the subordinate Preacher called for a 
 day of fasting, and to humble themselves for being 
 so wicked against the great Shaddai, and his Son; 
 and he desired that Captain Boanerges would 
 preach. 3 * So he consented to do it, and the day 
 was come, and his text was this, ‘Cut it down, why 
 cumbereth it the ground?’ and a very Boanerges doth 
 smart sermon he made upon the place, p^chtoMan- 
 First, he showed what was the occa¬ 
 sion of the words, to wit, because the fig-tree was 
 barren ; then he showed what was contained in the 
 sentence, to wit, repentance, or utter desolation. 
 He then showed also by whose authority this sen¬ 
 tence was pronounced, and that was by Shaddai 
 
 totter under a sense of the dreadful judgment of God .’—(Grace 
 Abounding, No. 164.) A miserable state for a warrior sur¬ 
 rounded by active enemies.—(E d.) 
 
 3 Preaching captains were not uncommon in Bunyan’s 
 time; even Queen Elizabeth permitted lay preachers. Sir. L. 
 Cheke, the High Sheriff of Oxford, preached in his sheriff’s 
 gown and gold chain, in St. Mary’s pulpit, at Oxford Univer¬ 
 sity. If men of similar piety and talent would volunteer, it 
 would not be a bad example for our gracious Victoria to follow. 
 -(Ed.) 
 

 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 329 
 
 himself. And lastly, lie showed the reasons of the 
 point, and then concluded his sermon. But he was 
 
 The men of Man- very pertinent in the application, inso- 
 soul much af- much that he made poor Mansoul 
 tremble. For this sermon, as well as 
 the former, wrought much upon the hearts of the 
 men of Mansoul; yea it greatly helped to keep 
 awake those that were roused by the preaching that 
 went before. So that now throughout the whole 
 town there was little or nothing to be heard or seen 
 but sorrow and mourning, and woe. 1 
 
 Now after sermon they got together and con- 
 They consult suited what was best to be done. But, 
 what to do. t ] 10 su bo rc li nate Preacher, I will 
 
 do nothing ot mine own head, without advising with 
 my neighbour Mr. Godly-fear. 
 
 For if he had afore, and understood more of the 
 mind of our Prince than we, I do not know but 
 he also may have it now, even now we are turning 
 again to virtue. So they called and sent for Mr. 
 Godly-fear, and he forthwith appeared; then they 
 desired that he would further show his opinion 
 Mr. Godly-fear’s about what they had best to do. Then 
 said the old gentleman as followeth ; 
 It is my opinion that this town of Mansoul should, 
 in this day of her distress, draw up and send an 
 humble petition to their offended Prince Emman¬ 
 uel, that he in his favour and grace will turn again 
 unto you, and not keep anger for ever. 
 
 When the townsmen had heard this speech, they 
 did with one consent agree to his advice; so they 
 did presently draw up their request, and the next 
 They scud the was » But wll ° shall carry it? at last 
 court Mayor t0 the Y did agree to send it by my 
 Lord Mayor. So he accepted of the 
 service, and addressed himself to his journey; and 
 went and came to the court of Shaddai, whither 
 Emmanuel the Prince of Mansoul was gone. But 
 the gate was shut, and a strict watch kept thereat 
 so that the petitioner was forced to stand with¬ 
 out for a great while together. La. iii. 8. Then he 
 desired that some would go in to the Prince and 
 tell him who stood at the gate, and what his busi¬ 
 ness was. So one went and told to Shaddai, and 
 to Emmanuel his Son, that the Lord Mayor of the 
 town of Mansoul stood without at the gate of the 
 King s court, desiring to be admitted into the pre¬ 
 sence of the Prince, the King’s Son. He also told 
 what was the Lord Mayor’s errand, both to the 
 King and his Son Emmanuel. But the Prince 
 would not come down, nor admit that the gate 
 should be opened to him, but sent him an answer 
 to this effect:—They have turned the back unto 
 me, and not their face, but now in the time of 
 
 - Ian sou] had withdrawn from a faithful ministry, and sat 
 under the preaching of milder and unfaithful men, but Godly- 
 tar having roused them to burn Carnal-security’s house, they 
 llock to the awakening alarms of a faithful Boanerges.— (Ed.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 their trouble they say to me, Arise and save us. 
 La. iii. 44 . But can they not now go to Mr. Carnal- 
 security, to whom they went when they turned 
 from me, and make him their leader, their lord, 
 and their protection, now in their a dreadful 
 trouble ? Why now in their trouble answer, 
 do they visit me, since in their prosperity they 
 went astray. Je. n 27, 28 . 
 
 This answer made my Lord Mayor look black 
 in the face; it troubled, it perplexed, it rent him 
 sore. La. iv. 7, 8 . And now he began again to see 
 what it was to be familiar with Diabolonians, such 
 as Mr. Carnal-security was. When he saw that 
 at court, as yet, there was little help to be ex¬ 
 pected, either for himself, or friends in Mansoul, 
 he smote upon his breast and returned The Lord Mayor 
 weeping, and all the way bewailing the returns,and how. 
 lamentable state of Mansoul. Well, when he was 
 come within sight of the town, the elders, and chief 
 of the people of Mansoul went out at the gate to 
 meet him, and to salute him, and to know how he 
 sped at court. But he told them his tale in so 
 doleful a manner, that they all cried Restate of Man- 
 out, and mourned, and wept. Where- soul ntw - 
 fore they threw ashes and dust upon their heads, 
 and put sackcloth upon their loins, and went cry¬ 
 ing out through the town of Mansoul; the which 
 when the rest of the townsfolk saw, T he whole town 
 they all mourned and wept. This, cast down. 
 
 therefore, was a day of rebuke and trouble, and 
 of anguish to the town of Mansoul, and also of 
 great distress. 
 
 After some time, when they had somewhat re¬ 
 frained themselves, they came together Tj iey consu]t 
 to consult again what by them was yet a s ail1 - 
 to be done; and they asked advice, as they did 
 before, of that Bev. Mr. Godly-fear, who told them, 
 that there was no way better than to Mr . Godly-fear’s 
 do as they had done, nor would he advice, 
 that they should be discouraged at all with what 
 they had met with at court; yea, though several 
 of their petitions should be answered with nought 
 but silence or rebuke; for, said he, it is the way 
 of the wise Shaddai to make men wait and to 
 exercise patience, and it should be the way of them 
 in want to be willing to stay his leisure .~ 
 
 Then they took courage, and sent again, and 
 again, and again, and again ; for there See now what 
 was not now one day, nor an hour that a ^ackshdin^ 
 went over Mansoul’s head, wherein a saint awakened 0 , 
 man might not have met upon the road one or 
 other riding post, sounding the horn from Mansoul 
 to the court of the King Shaddai; and all with 
 letters petitionary in behalf of, and for 
 the Prince’s return to Mansoul. The Groami, ° desires - 
 
 
 
 
 2 See Ps. xxv. 3; xxvii. 14; xxxvii. 7; Ixii. 5. La. iii. 20. 
 Ho. xii. G.—(Ed.) 
 
 42 
 
 
330 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 road, I say, was now full of messengers, going and 
 returning, and meeting one another; some from 
 the court, and some from Mansoul, and this was 
 the work of the miserable town of Mansoul all that 
 long, that sharp, that cold, and tedious winter. 1 
 Now, if you have not forgot, you may yet re¬ 
 member that I told you before that 
 a memento. a ^ er Emmanuel had taken Mansoul, 
 
 yea, and after that he had new modelled the town, 
 there remained in several lurking places of the 
 corporation many of the old Diabolonians, that 
 either came with the tyrant when he invaded and 
 took the town, or that had there, by reason of 
 unlawful mixtures, their birth and breeding, and 
 bringing up. And their holes, dens, and lurking 
 places were in, under, or about the wall of the 
 town. Some of their names are, the Lord Forni¬ 
 cation, the Lord Adultery, the Lord Murder, the 
 Lord Anger, the Lord Lasciviousness, the Lord 
 Deceit, the Lord Evil-eye, the Lord Blasphemy, 
 and that horrible villain the old and dangerous 
 Lord Covetousness. 2 These, as I told you, with 
 many more, had yet their abode in the town of 
 Mansoul, and that after that Emmanuel had driven 
 their prince Diabolus out of the castle. 0 
 
 Against these the good Prince did grant a com¬ 
 mission to the Lord Will-be-will and 
 ^notberPimice’s others ; yea, to the whole town of Man- 
 Sfft c soul, to seek, take, secure, and destroy 
 mission into an y or a ll that they could lay hands 
 of; for that they were Diabolonians 
 by nature, enemies to the Prince, and those that 
 sought to ruin the blessed town of Mansoul. But 
 the town of Mansoul did not pursue this warrant, 
 but neglected to look after, to apprehend, to secure, 
 and to destroy these Diabolonians. Wherefore, 
 what do these villains, but by degrees take courage 
 to put forth their heads, and to show themselves 
 to the inhabitants of the town; yea, and as I was 
 told, some of the men of Mansoul grew too familiar 
 with some of them, to the sorrow of the corpora¬ 
 tion, as you yet will hear more of in time and 
 place. 3 4 
 
 1 ‘When roused from carnal security by godly fear, the soul 
 feels, more than ever, the value and essential importance of 
 prayer. No poor harassed sinner had experienced this dread 
 state of uncertainty more than Bunyan; a suspense like a 
 sharp, a cold, a tedious winter to a poor man destitute of com¬ 
 mon comforts. All these feelings are remarkably displayed in 
 the Grace Abounding —‘ I felt also such a clogging and heat 
 at my stomach, by reason of my terror, that 1 was, especially 
 at some times, as if my breast bone would have split asunder.’ 
 —No. 164. ‘It was like the mark that the Lord God did 
 set on Cain, even continual fear and trembling. Thus did I 
 wind, and twine, and shrink under the burden that was upon 
 me.’—No. 165 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 The apostle calls covetousness * idolatry.’ Ep. v. 5. Col. 
 iii. 5. It is a worshipping of mammon, and justly deserves 
 the stigma which Bunyan puts on it—‘ That horrible villain, 
 the old and dangerous Lord Covetousness.’ His vigour in¬ 
 creases with his age, contrary to other vices.—(E d.) 
 
 [Chapter XIII.] 
 
 [Contents :—The Diabolonians take courage from the depar¬ 
 ture of Emmanuel, and plots are formed in hell for a 
 counter-revolution in Mansoul—Covetousness, Lascivi¬ 
 ousness, and Anger, by changing their names, are intro¬ 
 duced into respectable families, w r here they corrupt their 
 masters, and do incredible mischief—An army of twenty 
 * thousand doubters raised to surprise the town.] 
 
 Well, when tlie Diabolonian lords that were 
 left, perceived that Mansoul had, through sinning, 
 offended Emmanuel their Prince, and The Diabolonians 
 that he had withdrawn himself and plot - 
 was gone, what do they but plot the min of 
 the town of Mansoul. So upon a time they met 
 together at the hold of one Mr. Mischief, who also 
 was a Diabolonian, and there consulted how they 
 might deliver up Mansoul into the hand of Dia¬ 
 bolus again. Now some advised one way, and 
 some another, every man according to liis own 
 liking. At last, my Lord Lasciviousness pro¬ 
 pounded whether it might not be best, in the first 
 place, for some of those that were Diabolonians in 
 Mansoul, to adventure to offer themselves for serv¬ 
 ants to some of the natives of the town. For, said 
 he, if they so do, and Mansoul shall accept of them, 
 they may for us, and for Diabolus our Lord, make 
 the taking of the town of Mansoul more easy than 
 otherwise it will be. But then stood up the Lord 
 Murder, and said, This may not be done at this 
 time, for Mansoul is now in a kind of rage; be¬ 
 cause by our friend Mr. Carnal-security she hath 
 been once ensnared already, and made to offend 
 against her Prince; and how shall she reconcile 
 herself unto her Lord again, but by the heads of 
 these men? Besides, we know that they have in 
 commission to take and slay us wherever they shall 
 find us; let us therefore be wise as foxes; when 
 we are dead we can do them no hurt, but while 
 we live we may. Thus when they had tossed the 
 matter to and fro, they jointly agreed that a let¬ 
 ter should forthwith be sent away to Diabolus in 
 their name ; by which the state of the They send to hell 
 town of Mansoul should be showed lor advlce ‘ 
 him, and how much it is under the frowns of their 
 Prince ; we may also, said some, let him know our 
 intentions, and ask of him his advice in the case. 5 6 
 
 3 Converted persons have still the world, the flesh, and the 
 devil to cope with—enemies without and within, lurking in 
 the walls, in holes, and dens in Mansoul; but the Lord has 
 promised to give grace and glory. Ps. lxxxiv. 11.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Emmanuel gives a strict charge to destroy all Diabolo¬ 
 nians, but this was neglected, and the consequence was that 
 they became to Mansoul what the Canaanites were to Israel. 
 ‘ If ye will not drive out the inhabitants of the land from 
 before you, then it shall come to pass, that these which ye let 
 remain of them shall be pricks in your eyes, and thorns in 
 your sides, and shall vex you in the land wherein ye dwell.* 
 
 Nu. xxxiii. 55.—(Burder.) 
 
 6 Thus poor sinners are in league with bell against their 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 331 
 
 I 
 
 So a letter was presently framed, tlie contents 
 of which was this— 
 
 ‘ To our great Lord, the Prince Diabolus, dwelling 
 below in the Infernal Cave. 
 
 * 0 great Father, and mighty Prince Diabolus, 
 We, the true Diabolonians, yet remaining in the 
 rebellious town of Mansoul, having received our 
 The copy of their beings from thee, and our nourishment 
 letter - at thy hands, cannot with content and 
 quiet endure to behold, as we do this day, how thou 
 art dispraised, disgraced, and reproached among 
 the inhabitants of this town; nor is thy long 
 absence at all delightful to us, because greatly to 
 our detriment. 
 
 * The reason of this our writing unto our Lord 
 is, for that we are not altogether without 
 " hope that this town may become thy habita¬ 
 tion again; for it is greatly declined from its Prince 
 Emmanuel, and he is up-risen, and is departed, 
 from them; yea, and though they send, and send, 
 and send, and send after him to return to them, yet 
 can they not prevail, nor get good words from him. 
 
 ‘ There has been also of late, and is yet remain¬ 
 ing, a very great sickness and faintings among them, 
 and that not only upon the poorer sort of the town, 
 but upon the lords, captains, and chief 
 ' gentry of the place; we only, who are of 
 the Diabolonians by nature, remain well, lively, and 
 
 strong, so that through their great transgression 
 on the one hand, and their dangerous sickness on 
 the other, we judge they lay open to thy hand and 
 power. If therefore it shall stand with thy hor¬ 
 rible cunning, and with the cunning of the rest of 
 the Princes with thee, to come and make an at¬ 
 tempt to take Mansoul again, send us word, and 
 we shall to our utmost power be ready to deliver 
 it into thy hand. Or, if what we have said, shall 
 not by thy fatherhood be thought best, and most 
 meet to be done, send us thy mind in a few words, 
 and we are all ready to follow thy counsel, to the 
 hazarding of our lives, and what else we have. 
 
 ‘Given under our hands the day and date above 
 written, after a close consultation at the house 
 of Mr. Mischief, who yet is alive, and hath 
 his place in our desirable town of Mansoul.’ 
 
 When Mr. Profane—for he was the carrier— 
 
 ^rrier^and he was come w hh his letter to Ilell-gate- 
 brmgs’the let- hill, lie knocked at the brazen gates 
 
 gate-hill, ^nd f° r entrance. Then did Cerberus, 1 
 
 St toVelberul! the P ortei ’~ for he is the keeper of that 
 the porter. gate—open to Mr. Profane, to whom 
 
 own souls. May the Lord, by his Word and Spirit, break the 
 horrid confederacy 1—(Mason.) 
 
 the gate-keeper of Pluto’s palace in hell, with three heads, 
 e\ ery hair being a snake; supposed by some to represent the 
 word, flesh, and devil; or the consumer of mankind.— (Ed.) 
 
 he delivered his letter which he had brought from 
 the Diabolonians in Mansoul. So lie carried it in 
 and presented it to Diabolus his lord, and said, 
 Tidings, my lord, from Mansoul, from our trusty 
 friends in Mansoul. 
 
 Then came together from all places of the den 
 Beelzebub, Lucifer, Apollyon, with the rest of 
 the rabblement there, to hear what news from 
 Mansoul. So the letter was broken up and read, 
 and Cerberus he stood by. When the letter was 
 openly read, and the contents thereof spread into 
 all the corners of the den, command ^ 
 was given that, without let or stop, and how it 
 Deadman’s bell should be rung for joy. " Ult * 
 
 So the bell was rung, and the princes rejoiced that 
 Mansoul was like to come to ruin. Now the clap¬ 
 per of the bell went, The town of Mansoul is com¬ 
 ing to dwell with us, make room for the town of 
 Mansoul. This bell, therefore, they did ring, 
 because they did hope that they should have Man¬ 
 soul again. 2 
 
 Now, when they had performed this their hor¬ 
 rible ceremony, they got together again to consult 
 what answer to send to their friends in Mansoul, 
 and some advised one thing, and some another; 
 but, at length, because the business required haste, 
 they left the whole business to the Prince Diabolus, 
 judging him the most proper lord of the place. So 
 he drew up a letter as he thought fit, in answer to 
 what Mr. Profane had brought, and sent it to the 
 Diabolonians that did dwell in Mansoul, by the 
 same hand that had brought theirs to him, and 
 this was the contents thereof— 
 
 ‘ To our offspring, the high and mighty Diabo¬ 
 lonians, that yet dwell in the town of Mansoul , 
 Diabolus, the great Prince of Mansoul, wishdh 
 a prosperous issue and conclusion of those many 
 brave enterprises, conspiracies, and designs, 
 that you of your love and respect to our honour, 
 have in your hearts to attempt to do against 
 Mansoul. 
 
 * Beloved children and disciples, my Lord For¬ 
 nication, Adultery, and the rest, we have here, in 
 our desolate den, received, to our highest joy and 
 content, your welcome letter, by the hand of our 
 trusty Mr. Profane, and to show how acceptable 
 your tidings were, we rung out our bell for glad¬ 
 ness, for we rejoiced as much as we could, wlieu 
 we perceived that yet we had friends in Mansoul, 
 and such as sought our honour and revenge in the 
 ruin of the town of Mansoul. We also rejoice to 
 hear that they are in a degenerated condition, and 
 that they have offended their Prince, and that ho 
 
 2 As there is joy in heaven over one sinner that repentelh, 
 so likewise is there joy in hell over one backsliding saint. 
 But almighty grace must prevail, O for watchfulness unto 
 prayer!—(Mason.) 
 
332 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 is gone. Tlieir sickness also pleaseth us, as doth < 
 also your health, might, and strength. Glad also 
 would we he, right horribly beloved, could we get < 
 this town into our clutches again. Nor will we he 
 sparing of spending our wit, our cunning, our craft, 
 and hellish inventions, to bring to a wished conclu¬ 
 sion this your brave beginning, in order thereto. 
 
 ‘ And take this for your comfort, our birth and 
 our offspring, that shall we again surprise it and 
 take it, we will attempt to put all your foes to the 
 sword, and will make you the great lords and cap¬ 
 tains of the place. Nor need you fear, if ever we 
 get it aorain, that we after that shall be cast out 
 any more, for we will come with more strength, 
 and so lay far more fast hold than at the first we 
 did. Besides, it is the law of that Prince that 
 now they own, that if we get them a second time 
 they shall be ours for ever. Mat. xii. 43-45. 
 
 ‘ Do you therefore, our trusty Diabolonians, yet 
 more pry into, and endeavour to spy out, the weak¬ 
 ness of the town of Mansoul. We also would that 
 you yourselves do attempt to weaken them more 
 and more. Send us word also by what means 
 you think we had best to attempt the regaining 
 thereof; to wit, whether by persuasion to a vain 
 and loose life, or whether by tempting them to 
 doubt and despair, or whether by blowing up of the 
 town by the gunpowder of pride and self-conceit. 
 Do ye also, 0 ye brave Diabolonians and true sons 
 of the pit, be ye always in a readiness to make a 
 most hideous assault within, when we shall be 
 ready to storm it without. Now speed you in your 
 project, and we in our desires, the utmost power 
 of our gates, which is the wish of your great Dia- 
 bolus, Mansoul’s enemy, and him that trembles 
 1 when he thinks of judgment to come! 1 All the 
 blessings of the pit be upon you, and so we close 
 up our letter. 
 
 ‘ Given at the pit’s mouth, by the joint consent 
 of all the princes of darkness, to be sent to 
 the force and power that we have yet remain¬ 
 ing in Mansoul, by the hand of Mr. Profane. 
 —By me, Diabolus.’ 
 
 This letter, as was said, was sent to Mansoul, to 
 the Diabolonians that yet remained there, and that 
 yet inhabited the wall, from the dark 
 dungeon of Diabolus, by the hand of 
 Mr. Profane, by whom they also in Mansoul sent 
 Profane comes theirs to the pit. Now when this Mr. 
 
 home agam. Profane had made his return, and was 
 
 1 Satan renews bis temptations with double force; while 
 lasciviousness, murder, and mischief unite with him in cunning 
 devices to ruin the soul. Three means of destruction are 
 proposed in hell:—1. A vicious life; 2. Despair of mercy; 
 3. Prevailing pride. Either of these would prove our ruin, 
 did not grace prevent.—(Burder.) Beware, O believer, lest a 
 moment’s want of watchfulness produce the bitter fruits of 
 repentance f—(E d.) 
 
 come to Mansoul again, he went and came as he was 
 wont to the house of Mr. Mischief, for there was the 
 conclave, and the place where the contrivers were 
 met. Now when they saw that their messenger 
 was returned safe and sound, they were greatly 
 gladed thereat. Then he presented them with his 
 letter which he had brought from Diabolus for 
 them, the which, when they had read and con¬ 
 sidered, did much augment their gladness. They 
 asked him after the welfare of their friends, as 
 how their Lord Diabolus, Lucifer, and Beelzebub 
 did, with the rest of those of the den. To which 
 this Profane made answer, Well, well, my lords, 
 they are well, even as well as can be in their place. 
 They also, said he, did ring for joy at the reading 
 of your letter, as you will perceive by this when 
 you read it. 
 
 Now, as was said, when they had read their 
 letter, and perceived that it encouraged them in 
 their work, they fell to their way of contriving 
 again, to wit, how they might complete their Dia- 
 bolonian design upon Mansoul. And the first thing 
 that they agreed upon was, to keep all 
 things from Mansoul as close as they 
 could. 2 Let it not be known, let not Mansoul be 
 acquainted with what we design against it. The 
 next thing was, how, or by what means, they 
 should try to bring to pass the ruin and overthrow 
 of Mansoul, and one said after this manner, and 
 another said after that. Then stood up Mr. Deceit, 
 and said, My right Diabolonian friends, our lords, 
 and the high ones of the deep dungeon, do pro¬ 
 pound unto us these three ways— 
 
 1. Whether we had best to seek its ruin by 
 making of Mansoul loose and vain ? 2. Or whether 
 by driving them to doubt and despair? 3. Or 
 whether by endeavouring to blow Takeheea,Man- 
 tliem up by the gunpowder of self- soul! 
 conceit? 
 
 Now, I think, if we shall tempt them to pride, 
 that may do something; and if we tempt them to 
 wantonness, that may help. But, in my mind, if 
 we could drive them into desperation, that would 
 knock the nail on the head, for then we should 
 have them, in the first place, question the truth of 
 the love of the heart of their Prince towards them, 
 and that will disgust him much. This, if it works 
 well, will make them leave off quickly their way of 
 sending petitions to him; then farewell earnest 
 solicitations for help and supply, for then this con¬ 
 clusion lies naturally before them, As good do 
 nothing as do to no purpose. So’to Mr. Deceit 
 they unanimously did consent. 
 
 Then the next question was, But how shall we 
 
 2 Ignorance and carnal security, or idleness, are the strong- 
 1 holds of sin in the soul. The more we study to become ac- 
 : 1 quainted with Divine truth, and labour to show forth the glory 
 i of God, the safer and happier we must become.— (Ed.) 
 
THE IIOLl’ WAR. 
 
 833 
 
 do bring this our project to pass? And it was 
 Takelieed, Man- answered by the same gentleman that 
 80Ul1 tliis might bo the best way to do it: 
 Even let, quoth he, so many of our friends as are 
 willing to venture themselves for the promoting of 
 their prince’s cause, disguise themselves with ap¬ 
 parel, change their names, and go into the market 
 like far-couutrymen, and proffer to let themselves 
 for servants to the famous town of Mansoul, and 
 let them pretend to do for their masters as benefi¬ 
 cially as may be, for by so doing they may, if 
 Mansoul shall hire them, in little time so corrupt 
 and defile the corporation, that her now Prince 
 shall be not only further offended with them, but 
 in conclusion shall spew them out of his mouth. 
 And when this is done, our prince Diabolus shall 
 Take heed, Man- prey upon them with ease; yea, of 
 themselves they shall fall into the 
 mouth of the eater. Na. m. 12 . 
 
 This project was no sooner propounded but was 
 as highly accepted, and forward -were all Diabol- 
 onians now to engage in so delicate an enterprise; 
 but it was not thought fit that all should do thus, 
 wherefore they pitched upon two or three, namely, 
 the Lord Covetousness, the Lord Lasciviousness, 
 and the Lord Anger. The Lord Covetousness 
 called himself by the name of Prudent-thrifty, the 
 Take heed, Man- Lord Lasciviousness called himself by 
 the name of Harmless-mirth, and the 
 Lord Anger called himself by the name of Good- 
 zeal. 1 
 
 So upon a market-day they came into the mar¬ 
 ket-place—three lusty fellows they were to look on— 
 and they were clothed in sheeps’-russet, 2 which was 
 also now in a manner as white as were the white 
 Take heed, Man- robes of the men of Mansoul. Now 
 the men could speak the language of 
 Mansoul well. So, when they were come into the 
 market-place, and had offered to let themselves to 
 the townsmen, they were presently taken up, for 
 they asked but little wages, and promised to do 
 their masters great service. 
 
 Mr. Mind hired Prudent-thrifty, and Mr. Godly- 
 fear hired Goodzeal. True, this fellow Harmless- 
 mirth did hang a little in hand, and could not so 
 soon get him a master as the other did, because 
 the town of Mansoul was now in Lent; 3 but after 
 a while, because Lent was almost out, the Lord 
 YV ill-be-will hired Harmless-mirth to be both his 
 Take lieed, Man- waiting-man and his lacquey, and thus 
 they got them masters. 
 
 soul 1 
 
 1 "Well may our pious author reiterate the caution—‘Take 
 heed, Mansoul!’ Vices in the disguise of virtues are espe¬ 
 cially dangerous. So when the pilgrims were led astray, and 
 entangled in a net, by a black man in white raiment, they 
 said, ‘ We did not imagine that this fine-spoken man had been 
 the flatterer.’ P. 151 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Coarse, home-spun, brown woollen cloth.— (Ed.) 
 
 8 Bunyan does not pretend to fast forty days; and he 
 
 These villains now being got thus far into the 
 houses 01 the men of Mansoul, quickly began to 
 do great mischief therein; for being filthy, arch, 
 and sly, they quickly corrupted the families where 
 they were; yea, they tainted their masters much, 
 especially this Prudent-thrifty, and him they call 
 Harmless-mirth. True, he that went under the 
 vizor of Goodzeal, was not so well liked of his 
 master, for he quickly found that he was but a 
 counterfeit rascal; 4 the which when the fellow per¬ 
 ceived, with speed he made his escape from the 
 house, or I doubt not but his master had hanged 
 him. 
 
 Well, when these vagabonds had thus far car¬ 
 ried on their design, and had corrupted the town 
 as much as they could, in the next place they con¬ 
 sidered with themselves at what time their prince 
 Diabolus without, and themselves within the town, 
 should make an attempt to seize upon Mansoul; 
 and they all agreed upon this, that a market-day 
 would be best for that work. For why ? a day of worldly 
 Then will the townsfolk be busy in cumber, 
 their ways. And always take this for a rule, 
 When people are most busy in the world, they 
 least fear a surprise. 5 We also then, said they, 
 shall be able with less suspicion to gather ourselves 
 together for the work of our friends and lords; 
 yea, and in such a day, if we shall attempt our 
 work, and miss it, we may, when they Take heed, Man- 
 shall give us the rout, the better hide 80u11 
 ourselves in the crowd, and escape. 
 
 These things being thus far agreed upon by 
 them, they wrote another letter to Diabolus, and 
 sent it by the hand of Mr. Profane, the contents 
 of which were this— 
 
 ‘ The Lords of Looseness send to the great and 
 high Diabolus , from our dens , caves , Look to it, Man¬ 
 xes, and strong-holds , in and about sou11 
 the wall of the town of Mansoul, greeting: 
 
 * Our great lord, and the nourisher of our lives, 
 Diabolus; how glad we were when w r e heard of 
 your fatherhood’s readiness to comply with us, and 
 help forward our design in our attempts to ruin 
 Mansoul! None can tell but those who, as we 
 do, set themselves against all appearance of good, 
 when and wheresoever we find it. Ro. vii. 21. Ga. v. 17. 
 
 shows the evils of Lent, because, after so long a fast, there 
 
 was a need of mirth; and thus Lord Laciviousness, alias 
 
 Harmless-mirth, is hired, and soon produces great mischief. 
 Who can tell the miseries that have followed Easter festivities, 
 after Lenten hypocrisies ?—(Ed.) 
 
 4 A reckless, profligate fellow; under the disguise of good 
 zeal.—(E d.) 
 
 0 By a market-day is meant any time when the affairs of 
 this world most occupy the mind: a honey-moon, birthdays, 
 or other periods of rejoicing—as Christmas or Twelfth-day; 
 and on times when deeply occupied with the cares of life. 
 These are the times for Satan’s attacks. Take heed then, 
 Mansoul; while diligent in business, be fervent in spirit, 
 watching unto prayer.— (Ed.) 
 
334 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 ‘ Touching the encouragement that your great¬ 
 ness is pleased to give us to continue to devise, 
 contrive, and study the utter desolation of Man- 
 soul, that we are not solicitous about, for we hnow 
 right well that it cannot but be pleasing and pro¬ 
 fitable to us to see our enemies, and them that 
 seek our lives, to die at our feet or fly before us. 
 We therefore are still contriving, and that to the 
 best of our cunning, to make this work most facile 
 and easy to your lordships, and to us. 
 
 * First, we considered of that most hellishly- 
 Looktoit, Man- cunning, compacted, threefold project, 
 sou11 that by you was propounded to us in 
 your last; and have concluded, that though to blow 
 them up with the gunpowder of pride Avould do 
 well, and to do it by tempting them to be loose 
 and vain will help on ; yet to contrive to bring them 
 into the gulf of desperation, we think, will do best 
 of all. Now we, who are at your beck, have 
 thought of two ways to do this:—First, we, for 
 our parts, will make them as vile as we can; and 
 then you with us, at a time appointed, shall be 
 ready to fall upon them with the utmost force. 
 And, of all the nations that are at your whistle, 
 we think that an army of Doubters may be the 
 most likely to attack and overcome the town of 
 Take heed, Man- Mansoul. 1 Thus shall we overcome 
 
 soul! these enemies ; else the pit shall open 
 her mouth upon them, and desperation shall thrust 
 them down into it. We have also, to effect this 
 so much by us desired design, sent already three 
 of our trusty Diabolonians among them; they are 
 • disguised in garb, they have changed their names, 
 and are now accepted of them; to wit, Covetous¬ 
 ness, Lasciviousness, and Anger. The name of 
 Covetousness is changed to Prudent-thrifty; and 
 him Mr. Mind has hired, and is almost become as 
 bad as our friend. Lasciviousness has changed 
 his name to Harmless-mirth, and he is got to be 
 the Lord Will-be-will’s lacquey, but he has made 
 his master very wanton. Anger changed his name 
 into Goodzeal, and was entertained by Mr. Godly- 
 fear, but the peevish old gentleman took pepper 
 in the nose, and turned our companion out of his 
 house. 2 Nay, he has informed us since that he 
 ran away from him, or else his old master had 
 hanged him up for his labour. 
 
 ‘ Now these have much helped forward our work 
 Look to it, Man- and design upon Mansoul; for not- 
 souii Avithstanding the spite and quarrel¬ 
 some temper of the old gentleman last mentioned, 
 
 the other two ply their business well, and are like 
 to ripen the work apace 
 
 ‘ Our next project is, that it be concluded that 
 you come upon the town upon a market-day, and 
 that when they are upon the heat of Take heed, Man- 
 their business ; for then to be sure they 
 will be most secure, and least think that an assault 
 will be made upon them. They will also at such 
 a time be less able to defend themselves, and to 
 offend you in the prosecution of our design. And 
 we, your trusty, and we are sure your beloved 
 ones, shall, when you shall make your furious 
 assault without, be ready to second the business 
 Avithin. So shall we, in all likelihood, be able to 
 put Mansoul to utter confusion, and to SAvallow 
 them up before they can come to themselves. If 
 your serpentine heads, most subtle dragons, and 
 our highly esteemed lords can find out a better 
 Avay than this, let us quickly know your minds. 
 
 ‘ To the Monsters of the Infernal Cave, from the 
 house of Mr. Mischief in Mansoul, by the hand 
 of Mr. Profane. ’ 
 
 Now all the Avhile that the raging runagates, 
 and hellish Diabolonians were thus contriving the 
 ruin of the town of Mansoul, they, to wit, the poor 
 town itself, was in a sad and woeful The ?ad state of 
 case; partly because they had so Mansoul. 
 grievously offended Shaddai and his Son, and 
 partly because that the enemies thereby got 
 strength within them afresh, and also because 
 though they had by many petitions made suit to 
 the Prince Emmanuel, and to his Father Shaddai, 
 by him, for their pardon and favour, yet, hitherto, 
 obtained they not one smile; but contrariwise, 
 through the craft and subtlety of the domestic 
 Diabolonians, their cloud was made to grow blacker 
 and blacker, and their Emmanuel to stand at 
 further distance. 
 
 The sickness also did still greatly rage in Man¬ 
 soul, both among the captains and the inhabitants 
 of the town; their enemies and their enemies only 
 were now lively and strong, and like to become 
 the head, Avliilst Mansoul was made the tail. 3 
 
 By this time, the letter last mentioned, that was 
 written by the Diabolonians that yet lurked in the 
 town of Mansoul, was conveyed to Diabolus in the 
 black den, by the hand of Mr. Pro- p ro fane arrives 
 fane. He carried the letter by Hell- at Hell-gate-kill. 
 
 gate-hill, as before, and conveyed it by Cerberus 
 to his lord. 
 
 1 This scheme is contrived with consummate skill. First 
 let the Christian he drawn into a light, vain, worldly walk— 
 ‘Make him as vile as you can;’ and then assault him with 
 doubts and fears about his salvation.—(Border.) * Look to it; 
 take heed, Mansoul!’—(E d.) 
 
 2 * Took pepper in the nose.’ Godly-fear was easily excited, 
 and quickly saw the disguise which Anger had put on, and 
 
 turned him out neck and crop. This proverb was often used 
 in Bunyan’s time; thus— 
 
 * For every man takes pepper i’ the nose 
 For the waggynge of a strawe, God knowse. 
 
 With every waverynge wynd that blowese.’ 
 
 (Elderten’s Lenten Stvffe, 1570.)—(Fn.) 
 
 3 Backsliding from God naturally produces clouds that grow 
 blacker and blacker as corruptions grow stronger and stronger ; 
 grace in the soul becomes sick and weakly.— (Burder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAIL 
 
 335 
 
 But when Cerberus and Mr. Profane did meet, 
 they were presently as great as beggars, and thus 
 they fell into discourse about Mansoul, and about 
 the project against her. 
 
 Cerb. Ah! old friend, quoth Cerberus, art thou 
 come to Ilell-gate-hill again! By St. Mary, 1 I am 
 glad to see thee. 
 
 Prof. Yes, my lord, I am come again about the 
 concerns of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 „ . . Cerb. Prithee, tell me what con- 
 
 lalk between ... 
 
 him and Cer- dition is that town of Mansoul ill at 
 
 berus. 0 
 
 present s 
 
 Prof. In a brave condition, my lord, for us, and 
 for my lords, the lords of this place I trow, for 
 they are greatly decayed as to godliness, and that 
 is as well as our heart can wish; 2 their Lord is 
 greatly out with them, and that doth also please 
 us well. We have already also a foot in their 
 dish, 3 for our Diabolonian friends are laid in their 
 bosoms, and what do we lack but to be masters 
 of the place. 
 
 Besides, our trusty friends in Mansoul are daily 
 plotting to betray it to the lords of this town ; also 
 the sickness rages bitterly among them, 4 and that 
 which makes up all, we hope at last to prevail. 
 
 Cerb. Then said the Dog of Ilellgate, No time 
 like this to assault them ; I wish that the enterprise 
 be followed close, and that the success desired may 
 be soon effected. Yea, I wish it for the poor Dia- 
 bolonians’ sakes, that live in the continual fear of 
 their lives in that traitorous town of Mansoul. 
 
 Prof. The contrivance is almost finished, the 
 lords in Mansoul that are Diabolonians are at it 
 day and night, and the other are like silly doves, 
 they want heart to be concerned with their state, 
 and to consider that ruin is at hand. Besides, you 
 may, yea, must think, when you put all things 
 together, that there are many reasons that prevail 
 with Diabolus to make what haste he can. 
 
 Cerb. Thou hast said as it is, I am glad things 
 are at this pass. Go in, my brave Profane, to my 
 lords, they will give thee for thy welcome as good 
 a coranto 5 6 as the whole of this kingdom will afford. 
 I have sent thy letter in already. 
 
 Then Mr. Profane went into the den, and his 
 [Wane’s enter- Lord Diabolus met him, and saluted 
 
 tamment. him with, Welcome, my trusty servant, 
 I have been made glad with thy letter. The rest 
 of the lords of the pit gave him also their saluta¬ 
 tions. Then Profane, after obeisance made to them 
 
 1 This is one of those shrewd hits which abound in Bunyan’s 
 works. The devil swears by the mother of God, ‘ Saint Mary’ 
 —a singular mode of connecting his Satanic majesty and 
 Popery, by his using a common popish oath.—(E d.) 
 
 'In the same proportion as sin is encouraged, the ordin¬ 
 ances, ways, and will of God will be neglected.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 To get a foot in, or footing, is to gain admittance. ‘ A 
 foot in their dish 5 is the further familiarity of eating and 
 drinking together.—(E d.) 
 
 all, said, Let Mansoul be given to my Lord Dia¬ 
 bolus, and let him bo her king for ever. And with 
 that the hollow belly and yawning gorge of hell 
 gave so loud and hideous a groan—for that is the 
 music of that place—that it made the mountains 
 about it totter, as if they would fall in pieces. 
 
 Now after they had read and considered the 
 letter, they consulted what answer to return, and 
 the first that did speak to it was Lucifer. 
 
 Lucif. Then said he, The first project of the 
 Diabolonians in Mansoul is like to be They consult 
 lucky, and to take; to wit, that they m^ive^cTthe 
 will by all the ways and means they letter - 
 can, make ■ Mansoul yet more vile and filthy; no 
 way to destroy a soul like this; this is probatum 
 esl. Our old friend Balaam went this way and pro¬ 
 spered many years ago; let this therefore stand 
 with us for a maxim, and be to Dia- 
 
 ■» i • /» i i • t i Lucifer, 
 
 bolomans tor a general rule m all 
 ages, for nothing can make this to fail but grace, 
 in which 1 would hope that this town has no share. 
 Nu. xxxi. 16. Re. ii. 14. But whether to fall upon them 
 on a market-day, because of their cum- cumberments 
 her in business, that I would should be are dau s erous - 
 under debate. And there is more reason why this 
 head should be debated, than why some other 
 should; because upon this will turn the whole of 
 what we shall attempt. If we time not our busi¬ 
 ness well, our -whole project may fail. Our friends 
 the Diabolonians say that a market-day is best, 
 for then will Mansoul be most busy, and have 
 fewest thoughts of a surprise. But what if also 
 they should double their guards on They lmd need 
 those days—and methinks nature and do lfc * 
 reason should teach them to do it—and what if 
 they should keep such a watch on those days as 
 the necessity of their present case doth require? 
 Yea, what if their men should be always in arms 
 on those days ? Then you may, my lords, be dis¬ 
 appointed in your attempts, and may bring our 
 friends in the town to utter danger of unavoidable 
 ruin. 
 
 Beel. Then said the great Beelzebub, There is 
 something in what my lord hath said, but his con¬ 
 jecture may or may not fall out. Nor hath my 
 lord laid it down as that which must not be re¬ 
 ceded from, for I know that he said it only to 
 provoke to a warm debate thereabout. Therefore 
 we must understand, if we can, whether the town 
 
 4 The immoral contagion had spread; evil thoughts abounded. 
 * For this cause many are sickly among you/ 1 Co. xi. 30.— 
 
 (Ed.) 
 
 6 A swift and lively, but disorderly dance. The prospect 
 of the misery and destruction of Mansoul set all the devik 
 a-dancing. 
 
 * Wherein that dancer greatest praise hath won 
 Which with best order can all order shun.” 
 
 —(Sir John Davies.) 
 
 Where could Bunyan have picked up this very expressive but 
 rare word ?— (Ed.) 
 

 836 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 of Mansoul have such sense and knowledge of her 
 
 a lesson for decayed state, and of the design that, 
 
 Christians. we h ave on foot against her, as doth 
 
 provoke her to set watch and ward at her gates, 
 and to double them on market-days. But if, after 
 inquiry made, it shall be found that they are asleep, 
 then any day will do, but a market-day is best; 
 and this is my judgment in this case. 
 
 Diab. Then quoth Diabolus, How should we 
 know this ? And it was answered, Inquire about 
 it at the mouth of Mr. Profane. So Profane was 
 called in and asked the question, and he made his 
 answer as follows— 
 
 Prof. My lords, so far as I can gather, this is 
 Profane’s descrip- at present the condition of the town 
 sent 0f 8tate pi ’of of Mansoul. They are decayed in 
 Mansoui. their faith and love ; Emmanuel their 
 
 Prince has given them the back ; 1 they send often 
 by petition to fetch him again, but he maketh not 
 haste to answer their request, nor is there much 
 reformation among them. 
 
 Diab. I am glad that they are backward to a 
 reformation, but yet I am afraid of their petition¬ 
 ing. However, their looseness of life is a sign 
 that there is not much heart in what they do, and 
 without the heart things are little worth. But go 
 on, my masters, I will divert you, my lords, no 
 longer. 
 
 Beel. If the case be so with Mansoul, as Mr. 
 Profane has described it to be, it will be no great 
 matter what day we assault it; not their prayers 
 nor their power will do them much service. 
 
 Apoll. When Beelzebub had ended his oration, 
 then Apollyon did begin. My opinion, said he, 
 concerning this matter is, that we go on fair and 
 softly, not doing things in a hurry. Let our 
 friends in Mansoul go on still to pollute and defile 
 it, by seeking to draw it yet more into sin, for 
 there is nothing like sin to devour Mansoul. 2 If 
 
 Dreadful advice tllis be done ’ and takeS effect > Mall_ 
 against Man- soul of itself will leave off to watch, to 
 
 petition, or anything else that should 
 tend to her security and safety ; for she will forget 
 her Emmanuel, she will not desire his company, 
 and can she be gotten thus to live, her Prince will 
 not come to her in haste. Our trusty friend, 
 Mr. Carnal-security, with one of his tricks, did 
 drive him out of the town, and why may not my 
 Lord Covetousness, and my Lord Lasciviousness, 
 by what they may do, keep him out of the town ? 
 And this I will tell you, not because you know it 
 not, that two or three Diabolonians, if entertained 
 and countenanced by the town of Mansoul, will do 
 
 1 To back a friend, is to support him. To turn the back 
 upon him, or give him the back, is to desert him.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Although Satan is the father of lies, he certainly speaks 
 truth here. Sin will do more hurt to the soul than a legion 
 of devils.—(Burder.) 
 
 more to the keeping of Emmanuel from them, and 
 towards making of the town of Mansoul your own, 
 than can an army of a legion that should be sent 
 out from us to withstand him. 
 
 Let, therefore, this first project that our friends in 
 Mansoul have set on foot, be strongly Breaafu , a3vice 
 and diligently carried on with all cun- against Man¬ 
 ning and craft imaginable ; and let 
 them send continually, under one guise or another, 
 more and other of their men to play with the people 
 of Mansoul; and then, perhaps, we shall not need 
 to be at the charge of making a war upon them; 
 or if that must of necessity be done, yet the more 
 sinful they are, the more unable, to be sure, they 
 will be to resist us, and then the more easily we 
 shall overcome them. And besides, suppose—and 
 that is the worst that can be supposed—that Em¬ 
 manuel should come to them again, why may not 
 the same means, or the like, drive him from them 
 once more ? Yea, why may he not by their lapse 
 into that sin again, be driven from them for ever, 
 for the sake of which he was at the first driven 
 from them for a season ? And if this should hap¬ 
 pen, then away go with him his rams, his slings, 
 his captains, his soldiers, and he leaveth Mansoul 
 naked and bare. Yea, will not this town, when 
 she sees herself utterly forsaken of her Prince, of 
 her own accord open her gates again Brellt , M aWce 
 unto you, and make of you as in the against Man- 
 days of old ? But this must be done 
 by time; a few days will not effect so great a work 
 as this. 3 
 
 So soon as Apollyon had made an end of speak¬ 
 ing, Diabolus began to blow out his own malice, 
 and to plead his own cause; and he said, My lords 
 and powers of the cave, my true and trusty friends, 
 I have with much impatience, as becomes me, 
 given ear to your long and tedious orations. But 
 my furious gorge and empty paunch so lusteth 
 after a repossession of my famous town of Mansoul, 
 that, whatever comes out, I can wait no longer to 
 see the events of lingering projects. I must, and 
 that without further delay, seek by all means I can 
 to fill my insatiable gulf with the soul and body 
 of the town of Mansoul. 4 Therefore, Look to it> 
 lend me your heads, your hearts, and Mansoul. 
 your help, now I am going to recover my town of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 When the lords and princes of the pit saw the 
 flaming desire that was in Diabolus to devour the 
 miserable town of Mansoul, they left off to raise 
 any more objections, but consented to lend him 
 
 3 Here again we have Satan telling truth.— (Ed.) Apos- 
 tacy is generally a gradual affair; a sure poison, but slow.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
 4 Safaris malice is like a throat and stomach—‘insatiable.’ 
 He seeks to fill it with the souls and bodies of men; but liis 
 torment is, that it is a gulf bottomless and for ever insatiable. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 337 
 
 what strength they could ; though, had Apollyon’s 
 advice been taken, they had far more fearfully 
 distressed the town of Mansoul. But, I say, they 
 were willing to lend him what strength they could, 
 not knowing what need they might have of him, 
 when they should engage for themselves, as he. 
 Wherefore, they fell to advising about the next 
 tiling propounded, to wit, "what soldiers they were, 
 and also how many, with whom Diabolus should 
 go against the town of Mansoul to take it; and 
 after some debate, it was concluded, according as 
 in the letter the Diabolonians had suggested, that 
 none was more fit for that expedition than an army 
 of terrible Doubters. 1 They, therefore, concluded 
 to send against Mansoul an army of sturdy Doubt¬ 
 ers. The number thought fit to be employed in 
 that service was between twenty and thirty thou¬ 
 sand. So then, the result of that great council 
 of those high and mighty lords was, that Diabolus 
 should even now, out of hand, beat up’ his drum 
 An army of Doubt- for men in the land of Doubting, 
 agfuns^tbe\ovvn which land lietli upon the confines of 
 of Mansoul. the p] ace called Hell-gate-hill, for 
 
 men that might be employed by him against the 
 miserable town, Mansoul. It was also concluded 
 that these lords themselves should help him in the 
 „ 'war, and that they would, to that end, 
 the pit go with head and manage his men. So they 
 drew up a letter and sent back to the 
 Diabolonians that lurked in Mansoul, and that 
 waited for the back-coming of Mr. Profane, to sig¬ 
 nify to them into what method and forwardness 
 they at present had put their design. The con¬ 
 tents whereof now followeth- 
 
 * From the dark and horrible Dungeon of Hell , 
 
 Diabolus , with all the Society of the Princes 
 
 Another letter °f Darkness, sends to our trusty 
 from Diabolus ones, in and about the walls of 
 
 to the Diabolo- , _ , . 
 
 mans in Man- the town of Mansoul, now impa¬ 
 tiently waiting for our most devilish 
 answer, to their venomous and most poisonous 
 design against the town of Mansoul. 
 
 * Our natives ones, in whom from day to day we 
 boast, and in whose actions all the year long we 
 do greatly delight ourselves, we received your 
 welcome, because highly-esteemed, letter, at the 
 hand of our trusty and greatly beloved, the old 
 gentleman, Mr. Profane ; and do give you to 
 understand that when we had broken it up, and 
 had read the contents thereof, to your amazing 
 memory be it spoken, our yawning hollow-bellied 
 place, where we are, made so hideous and yelling a 
 
 J Doubts are dangerous and potent, as well as numberless 
 enemies ; they are dishonourable to God’s free, sovereign, 
 unasked, unmerited, and everlasting love and mercy in Clirist 
 Jesus.—(Mason.) 
 
 YOL. III. 
 
 noise for joy, that the mountains that stand round 
 about Hell-gate-hill had like to have been shaken 
 to pieces at the sound thereof. 
 
 ‘ We could also do no less than admire your faith¬ 
 fulness to us, with the greatness of that subtlety 
 that now hath showed itself to bo in your heads to 
 serve us against the town of Mansoul. For you 
 have invented for us so excellent a method for our 
 proceeding against that rebellious people; a more 
 effectual cannot be thought of by all the wits of 
 hell. The proposals, therefore, which now at last 
 you have sent us, since we saw them, we have 
 done little else but highly approved and admired 
 them. 
 
 * Nay, w r e shall, to encourage you in the pro¬ 
 fundity of your craft, let you know, that, at a full 
 assembly and conclave of our princes, and princi¬ 
 palities of this place, your project was discoursed, 
 and tossed from one side of our cave to the other, 
 by their mightinesses; but a better, and as was 
 by themselves judged, a more fit and proper way 
 by all their wits could not be invented, to surprise, 
 take, and make our own, the rebellious town of 
 Mansoul. 
 
 ‘ Wherefore, in fine, all that was said that varied 
 from what you had in your letter propounded, fell 
 of itself to the ground, and yours only was stuck 
 to by Diabolus the prince; yea, his gaping gorge 
 and vaunting paunch was on fire to put your inven¬ 
 tion into execution. 
 
 * We, therefore, give you to understand that our 
 stout, furious, and unmerciful Diabolus, is raising 
 for your relief, and the ruin of the rebellious town 
 of Mansoul, more than twenty thousand Doubters 
 to come against that people. They are all stout 
 and sturdy men, and men that of old have been 
 accustomed to war, and that can therefore 'well 
 endure the drum. I say, he is doing of this work 
 of his with all the possible speed he can; for his 
 heart and spirit is engaged in it. We desire, 
 therefore, that as you have hitherto stuck to us, 
 and given us both advice and encouragement thus 
 far; that you still will prosecute our design, nor 
 shall you lose, but be gainers thereby; yea, we 
 intend to make you the lords of Mansoul. 
 
 ‘ One thing may not by any means be omitted, 
 that is, those with us do desire that every one of 
 you that are in Mansoul would still use all your 
 power, cunning, and skill, with delusive persuasions, 
 yet to draw the towm of Mansoul into more sin and 
 wickedness, even that sin may be finished and 
 bring forth death. 
 
 ‘For thus it is concluded with us, that the more 
 vile, sinful, and debauched the town of Mansoul is, 
 the more backward will be their Emmanuel to come 
 to their help, either by presence, or other relief; 
 yea, the more sinful, the more weak, and so the 
 more unable will they be to make resistance when 
 
 43 
 
33S 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 we shall make our assault upon them to swallow 
 
 Takcheed,Man- tb cm up. Yea, that may cause that 
 soul. their mighty Shaddai himself may cast 
 them out of his protection; yea, and send for his 
 captains and soldiers home, with his slings and 
 rams, and leave them naked and bare, and then 
 the town of Man soul will of itself open to us, and 
 fall as the fig into the mouth of the eater. Na. iii. 12 . 
 Yea, to be sure that we then with a great deal of 
 ease shall come upon her and overcome her. 
 
 ‘ x\s to the time of our coming upon Mansoul, we 
 as yet have not fully resolved upon that, though at 
 present some of us think as you, that a market-day, 
 or a market-day at night, will certainly be the best. 1 
 However do you be ready, and when you shall hear 
 our roaring drum without, do you be as busy to 
 make the most horrible confusion within. 1 Fe. v. 8. 
 So shall Mansoul certainly be distressed before and 
 behind, and shall not know which way to betake 
 herself for help. My Lord Lucifer, my Lord 
 Beelzebub, my Lord Apollyon, my Lord Legion, 
 with the rest salute you, as does also my Lord Dia- 
 bolus, and we wish both you, with all that you do 
 or shall possess, the very self-same fruit and suc¬ 
 cess for their doing, as we ourselves at present en¬ 
 joy for ours. 
 
 * From our dreadful confines in the most fearful 
 Pit, we salute you, and so do those many 
 legions here with us, wishing you may be as 
 hellishly prosperous as we desire to be our¬ 
 selves. By the Letter-carrier, Mr. Profane.’ 
 
 Then Mr. Profane addressed himself for his re¬ 
 turn to Mansoul, with his errand from the horrible 
 pit to the Diabolonians that dwelt in that town. 
 So he came up the stairs from the deep to the 
 mouth of the cave where Cerberus was. Now when 
 Cerberus saw him, he asked how matters did go 
 below, about, and against the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Prof. Things go as well as we can expect. 
 
 , The letter that I carried thither was 
 
 More talk be¬ 
 tween Profane highly approved, and well liked by all 
 and Cerberus. , J T , . , „ 
 
 my lords, and 1 am returning to tell 
 our Diabolonians so. I have an answer to it here 
 in my bosom, that 1 am sure will make our masters 
 that sent me glad; for the contents thereof is to 
 encourage them to pursue their design to the ut¬ 
 most, and to be ready also to fall on within, when 
 they shall see my Lord Diabolus beleaguering of 
 the town of Mansoul. 
 
 1 At the season when the affairs of the world fill the heart, 
 beware of being ‘ overcharged with surfeiting, and drunken¬ 
 ness, and cares of this world.’ Be sober, be vigilant, O my 
 soul; attend to the author’s repeated warning, ‘ Take heed, 
 Mansoul!’— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Some may imagine this to be an incredible number of 
 doubts, but when the nine divisions of this army are presently 
 enumerated, it will be readily acknowledged that our doubts 
 are innumerable.—(E d.) 
 
 Cerb. But does he intend to go against them 
 himself. 
 
 Prof. Does he ! Ay, and he will take along 
 with him more than twenty thousand, The land from 
 all sturdy Doubters/ and men ot D 0U bter S do 
 war, picked men, from the land of come - 
 Doubting, to serve him in the expedition. 
 
 Cerb. Then was Cerberus glad, and said. And 
 is there such brave preparations a-making to go 
 against the miserable town of Mansoul; and would 
 I might be put at the head of a thousand of them, 
 that I might also show my valour against the fam¬ 
 ous tow r n of Mansoul. 3 
 
 Prof. Your wish may come to pass; you look 
 like one that has mettle enough, and my lord will 
 have with him those that are valiant and stout. 
 But my business requires haste. 
 
 Cerb. Ay, so it does. Speed thee to the town 
 of Mansoul with all the deepest mischiefs that this 
 place can afiord thee. And when thou shalt come 
 to the house of Mr. Mischief, the place where the 
 Diabolonians meet to plot, tell them that Cerberus 
 doth wish them his service, and that if he may, he 
 will with the army come up against the famous 
 town of Mansoul. 
 
 Prof. That I will. And I know that my lords 
 that are there will he glad to hear it, and to see 
 you also. 
 
 So after a few more such kind of compliments, 
 Mr. Profane took his leave of his friend Cerberus, 
 
 and Cerberus again, with a thousand of their pit- 
 wishes, hid him haste with all speed to his masters. 
 The which when he had heard, he made obeisance, 
 and began to gather up his heels to run. 4 
 
 Thus therefore he returned, and went and came 
 to Mansoul, and going as afore to the house of Mr. 
 Mischief, there he found the Diabolonians as¬ 
 sembled, and waiting for his return. Now when 
 he was come, and had presented himself, he also 
 delivered to them his letter, and adjoined this com¬ 
 pliment to them therewith: My Lords from the 
 confines of the pit, the high and mighty princi¬ 
 palities and powers of the den salute you here, the 
 true Diabolonians of the town of Mansoul. Wish¬ 
 ing you always the most proper of their benedic¬ 
 tions, for the great service, high at- Profane retum . 
 
 tempts, and brave achievements that ed again to 
 
 Mansoul. 
 
 you have put yourselves upon, tor the 
 restoring, to our prince Diabolus, the famous town 
 of Mansoul. 
 
 This was therefore the present state of the miseir- 
 
 3 According to Milton, Cerberus was the parent of Melan¬ 
 choly, a fit leader of Doubters. 
 
 • Hence, loathed Melancholy, 
 
 Of Cerberus and blackest Midnight born, 
 
 In Stygian caves forlorn, 
 
 ’Mougst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unliolv !’ 
 
 L'Allegro. —(Ed.) 
 
 4 To * gather up the heels,’ or ‘ take to the heels/ implies 
 great haste.—(Eu.) 
 
TIIE HOLY WAK. 
 
 So9 
 
 • town of Mansoul: she had offended her Prince, 
 he was gone; she had encouraged the powers 
 . hell, by her foolishness, to come against her, to 
 k her utter destruction. 
 
 True, the town of Mansoul was somewhat made 
 isihlo of her sin, but the Diabolonians were got- 
 1 into her bowels; she cried, but Emmanuel was 
 L • ne, and her cries did not fetch him as yet again. 
 1 asides she knew not now whether ever or never 
 1 would return and come to his Mansoul again, nor 
 d they know the power and industry of the enemy, 
 or how forward they were to put in execution that 
 lot of ln^l that they had devised against her. 
 They did indeed still send petition after petition 
 to the Prince, but lie answered all with silence. 
 They did neglect reformation, and that w T as as 
 Diabolus would have it, for he knew, if they re¬ 
 garded iniquity in their heart, their King would 
 not hear their prayer; they therefore did still grow 
 weaker and weaker, and were as a rolling thing 
 before the whirlwind. They cried to their King 
 for help, and laid Diabolonians in their bosoms, 1 
 hat therefore should a King do to them ? Yea, 
 .*ere seemed now to be a mixture in Mansoul, the 
 Diabolonians and the Mansoulians w T ould walk the 
 streets together. Yea, they began to seek their 
 peace, for they thought that since the sickness had 
 been so mortal in Mansoul, it was in vain to go to 
 handy-gripes 2 with them. Besides, the weakness 
 of Mansoul was the strength of their enemies; and 
 t tie sins of Mansoul the advantage of the Diabo- 
 lonians. The foes of Mansoul did also now begin 
 vo promise themselves the town for a possession; 
 there was no great difference now betwixt Man¬ 
 soulians and Diabolonians, both seemed to be mas¬ 
 ters of Mansoul. Yea, the Diabolonians increased 
 • ood thoughts, and grew, but the town of Mansoul 
 ous, and good diminished greatly. There was more 
 desires. than e l even thousand of men, women, 
 
 nd children that died by the sickness in Mansoul. 3 
 
 [Chapter XIY.] 
 
 ontents : —The plot discovered by Mr. Pryvvell—Prepara¬ 
 tions made for defence—More Diabolonians executed— 
 The army of Doubters approach the town—An assault 
 made upon Eargate, which is repelled—The drummer 
 beats a parley, which is disregarded—Diabolus attempts 
 to deceive by flattery, but is answered by the Lord Mayor 
 —Jolly and Griggish, two young Diabolonians, executed 
 —Gripe and Rakeall hanged—Anything and Loosefoot 
 imprisoned.] 
 
 But now Shaddai would have it, there w T as 
 one wliObts name was Mr. Prywell, a great lover 
 of the oe'ude of Mansoul. And he, as his manner 
 
 This is an awful state, when we encourage evil thoughts 
 and propensities in the heart, and pray to God against them. 
 Mil regal’d iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not hear me' 
 Ps. lxvi. 18 .—(Ed.) 
 
 * Hand-to-hand combat; wrestling.—(E d.) 
 
 was, did go listening up and down in Mansoul to 
 see, and to hear, if at any time he might, whether 
 there was any design against it or no. The 9tory o{ 
 For he was always a jealous man, and Mr - Tryweli. 
 feared some mischief sometime would befal it, either 
 from the Diabolonians within, or from some power 
 without. Now upon a time it so happened as Mr. 
 Prywell went listening here and there, that ho 
 lighted upon a place called Yilehill in Mansoul, 
 where Diabolonians used to meet; so hearing a 
 muttering—you must know that it was in the night 
 —he softly drew near to hear; nor had 
 he stood long under the house-end, for plot discovered, 
 there stood a house there, but he heard aud by wllom ’ 
 one confidently affirm that it was not or would 
 not be long before Diabolus should possess himself 
 again of Mansoul, and that then the Diabolonians 
 did intend to put all Mansoulians to the sword, and 
 would kill and destroy the King’s captains, and 
 drive all his soldiers out of the town. 4 
 
 lie said, moreover, that he knew there were 
 about twenty thousand fighting men prepared by 
 Diabolus for the accomplishing of this design, and 
 that it would not he months before they all should 
 see it. When Mr. Prywell had heard this story, 
 he did quickly believe it was true, wherefore ho 
 went forthwith to my Lord Mayor’s house, and ac¬ 
 quainted him therewith; who, sending for the subor¬ 
 dinate Preacher, brake the business to him, and 
 he as soon gave the alarm to the town Unders tanam g . 
 —for he was now the chief preacher in Conscience . 0 
 Mansoul—because as yet my Lord Secretary was 
 ill at ease. And this was the way that 
 the subordinate Preacher did take to T prcadier d uv!a- 
 alarm the town therewith; the same kened * 
 hour he caused the Lecture-bell to be rung, so the 
 people came together; he gave them then a short 
 exhortation to watchfulness, and made Mr. Pry- 
 well’s news the argument thereof. For, said he, 
 an horrible plot is contrived against Mansoul, even 
 to massacre us all in a day; nor is this story to be 
 slighted, for Mr. Prywell is the author thereof. 
 Mr. Prywell was always a lover of Mansoul, a 
 sober and judicious man, a man that is no tattler, 
 nor raiser of false reports, but one that loves to 
 look into the very bottom of matters, and talks 
 nothing of news but by very solid arguments. 
 
 I will call him, and you shall hear him your own- 
 selves ; so he called him, and lie came 
 and told his tale so punctually, and ^"^lews^ to 
 affirmed its truth with such ample MansouI - 
 
 3 Awful is the state of that soul, when it is difficult, by the 
 conduct, to know whether it is a professor or one of the pro¬ 
 fane. Alas, how cormnoD a case ! Eleven thousand acts of 
 piety, holy thoughts, and aspirations after God, were lost by 
 the wretched backslider.—(E d.) 
 
 4 Mr. Prywell represents holy jealousy and careful self- 
 examination ; which, when prayerfully used, is sure to detect 
 the plots of Satan.—(E d.) 
 
340 
 
 the holy wail 
 
 rounds, that Mansoul fell presently under a con¬ 
 viction of the truth of what he said.. The Preacher 
 did also hack him, saying, Sirs, it is not irratiQna 
 for us to believe it, for we have provoked Shadda. to 
 anger, and have sinned Emmanuel out of the town, 
 we have had too much correspondence with l)ia- 
 bolonians, and have forsaken our former mercies; 
 no marvel then if the enemy, both within and v - 
 out, should plot our ruin; and what time like t 
 to do it ? The sickness is now in the town, and we 
 have been made weak thereby. Many 
 Good desires. & g 00( j mea mng man is dead, and the 
 
 Diabolonians of late grow stronger and stronger 
 Besides, quoth the subordinate Preacher, I ha 
 eceived from this good truth-teller Bus one ink- 
 
 received irom tuia , , 
 
 lino: 1 further, that he understood by those that 
 overheard, that several letters have lately passed 
 between the Furies and the Diabolonians, in ordei 
 to our destruction. When Mansoul beard all this, 
 and not being able to gainsay it, they 
 They take alarm. lift lip t h e ir voice and wept. Mr. Pry- 
 
 lift up their voice and wept. Mr. Pry 
 well did also, in the presence of the townsmen, 
 confirm all that their subordinate Preacher hat 
 said. Wherefore they now set afresh to b ewtu 
 their folly, and to a doubling of petitions to Shade ai 
 and his Son. They also brake the 
 T S g te Jo tile business to the captains, high com- 
 captuins. manders, and men of war m the town 
 of Mansoul, entreating of them to use the means 
 to be strong, and to take good courage, and that, 
 they would look after their harness, and make 
 themselves ready to give Diabolus battle, by mg 
 and by day, shall be come, as they are informed 
 lie will, to beleaguer 3 the town of Mansoul. 
 
 When the captains beard this, they being always 
 true lovers of the town of Mansoul, what do they, 
 but like so many Samsons, they shake 
 ^geUier° tc> e con- themselves, and come together to con- 
 siiit. su }t and contrive how to defeat those 
 
 bold and hellish contrivances that were upon the 
 wheel, by the means of Diabolus and his friend s, 
 against the now sickly, weakly, and much im¬ 
 poverished town of Mansoul; and they agreed upon 
 
 these following particulars 
 
 1. That the gates of Mansoul should he kept 
 shut, and made fast with bars and 
 went. locks ; and that all persons that went 
 out, or came in, should he very strictly examined 
 hv the captains of the guards, iCo.xvi.i3; to the 
 end, said they, that those that are managers of 
 the plot amongst us may either, coming or going, 
 he taken; and that we may also find out who are 
 the great contrivers amongst us of our rum. 
 
 Lam. iii. 40. 
 
 2 The next thing was, that a strict search should 
 he made for all kind of Diabolonians throughout 
 the whole town of Mansoul; and every man s 
 house, from top to bottom, should be .looked_ into, 
 and that too, house by house, that if possible a 
 further discovery might he made of all such among 
 them as had a hand in these designs, lie. xii. 15, ic. 
 
 3. It was further concluded upon, that where- 
 soever or with whomsoever any of the Diabolonians 
 were found, that even those of the town of Man- 
 soul that hail given them house and harbour, shoulu 
 to their shame, and the warning of others, take 
 penance in the open place. Je. ii. si; v. 26. Eze. 52. 
 
 4. It was moreover resolved by the famous town 
 of Mansoul, that a public fast, and a day of humi¬ 
 liation should he kept throughout the whole coi- 
 poration, to the justifying of their Prince the 
 abasing of themselves before him for their trans¬ 
 gressions against him, and against Shaddai Ins 
 Father. Joel i. u; tt is, is. It was further resoh e , 
 that all such in Mansoul as did not on that day 
 endeavour to keep that fast, and to humble them¬ 
 selves for their faults, hut that should mind then 
 worldly employs, or be found wandering up. and 
 down the streets, should he taken for Diabolonians, 
 and should suffer as Diabolonians for such their 
 
 wicked doings. . . , 
 
 5. It was further concluded then, that with 
 
 what speed, and with what warmth of mincl they 
 could, thev would renew their humiliation for sm, 
 and their petitions to Shaddai for help; they also 
 resolved to send tidings to the court of all that 
 Mr. Pry well had told them. Je. xxxvii. 4, 5. 
 
 6 It was also determined that thanks should 
 he ffiven by tlie town of Mansoul to Mr. Prywell 
 for Ills diligent seeking of the welfare 
 of their town; and further, that tor- mas ter - gene - 
 asmuch as he was so naturally inclined ra |- < 
 
 1 to seek their good, and also to undermine then- 
 
 foes, they gave him a commission of Scout-master- 
 
 general, for the good of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 When the corporation, with their captains, had 
 thus concluded, they did as they had said; they 
 shut up their gates, they made for Diabolonians 
 strict search, they made those with whom any 
 were found to take penance in the open place. 
 They kept their fast, and renewed their petitions 
 to their Prince, and Mr. Prywell managed his 
 charge, and the trust that Mansoul had put m his 
 hands with great conscience, and good Mr. Prywell 
 
 fidelity; for he gave himself wholly 
 
 up to his employ, and that not only within the 
 town, hut he went out to pry, to see, and to hear. 
 And not many days after, he provided foi his 
 
 1 A hint or intimation.—(E d.) 
 
 2 Military dress and equipments.—(E d.) 
 
 3 To beseige or environ with troops.—(E d.) 
 
 4 Header, how wise are these regulations 1 seek earnestly to 
 
 follow them. Examine all things watchfully; search out evil 
 diligently If evil thoughts have been harboured let sincere 
 penitence drive them out. Be humble, prayerful, thankful; 
 and vou will he safe and happy— (Ed.) 
 
TIIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 841 
 
 journey, and went towards Hell-gate-hill, into the 
 country where the Doubters were, where he heard 
 of all that had been talked of in Mansoul, and he 
 perceived also that Diabolus was almost ready for 
 his march. So he came back with speed, and 
 calling the captains and elders of Mansoul to¬ 
 gether, he told them where he had been, what he 
 He returns with had heard, and what he had seen. 
 
 great news. Particularly, he told them that Dia¬ 
 bolus was almost ready for his march, and that he 
 had made old Mr. Incredulity, 1 that once brake 
 prison in Mansoul, the general of his army; that 
 his army consisted all of Doubters, and that their 
 number was above twenty thousand. He told, 
 moreover, that Diabolus did intend to bring with 
 him the chief princes of the infernal pit, and that 
 he would make them chief captains over his 
 Doubters. He told them, moreover, that it was 
 certainly true that several of the black-den would 
 with Diabolus ride Reformades 2 to reduce the 
 town of Mansoul to the obedience of Diabolus their 
 prince. 
 
 He said, moreover, that he understood by the 
 Doubters, among whom he had been, that the 
 reason why old Incredulity was made general of 
 the whole army, was because none truer than he 
 to the tyrant; and because he had an implacable 
 spite against the welfare of the town of Mansoul. 
 Besides, said he, lie remembers the affronts that 
 Mansoul has given, and he is resolved to be re¬ 
 venged of them. But the black princes shall be 
 made high commanders, only Incredulity shall be 
 over them all, because, which I had almost forgot, 
 he can more easily, and more dexterously beleaguer 
 the town of Mansoul than can any of the princes 
 besides. He. xii. 1. 
 
 How when the captains of Mansoul, with the 
 elders of the town, had heard the tidings that 
 Mr. Prywell did bring, they thought it expedient, 
 without further delay, to put into execution the 
 laws that, against the Diabolonians, their Prince 
 had made for them, and given them in command¬ 
 ment to manage against them. Wherefore, forth¬ 
 with a diligent and impartial search was made in 
 ail houses in Mansoul for all and all manner of 
 SomeDiahoion- Diabolonians. Nowin the house of 
 
 Mansou’T'and Mr * Mind » and in tlie hous ° «f the 
 committed to great Lord Will-be-will were two 
 
 Diabolonians found. In Mr. Mind’s 
 house was one Lord Covetousness found, but he 
 
 Incredulity is general-in-chief of all the Doubters, to show 
 that incredulity, or unbelief, is the source of all the doubts 
 and fetus that distress the Christian.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Volunteers.— (Ed.) 
 
 . 8 If cv ^ thoughts are subdued and kept in irons, i.e., checked 
 instantly when they appear, they will die in such a prison. 
 T he idea was naturally suggested to the author by the number 
 of pious persons who perished in prison, in Bunyan’s time, for 
 conscience sake, lhe Quakers alone have a list of about four 
 hundred of their Society who thus perished— (Ed.) 
 
 bad changed his name to Prudent-thrifty. In my 
 Lord Will-be-will s house, one Lasciviousness was 
 found; but he had changed his name to Harmless- 
 mirth. These two the captains and elders of the 
 town of Mansoul took, and committed them to 
 custody under the hand of Mr. Trueman the jailer; 
 and this man handled them so severely, and loaded 
 them so well with irons, that in time they both 
 fell into a very deep consumption, and died in the 
 prison-house; 3 their masters also, ac- The Lord Wiii- 
 cording to the agreement of the cap- Mmitakepen-’ 
 tains and elders, were brought to take auce - 
 penance in the open place to their shame, and for 
 a warning to the rest of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Now this was the manner of penance in those 
 days. The persons offending, being 
 made sensible of the evil of their do- renauce ’ wliat> 
 ings, were enjoined open confession of their faults, 
 and a strict amendment of their lives. 4 
 
 After this, the captains and elders of Mansoul 
 sought yet to find out more Diabolonians, wher¬ 
 ever they lurked, whether in dens, caves, holes, 
 vaults, or where else they could, in, or about the 
 wall or town of Mansoul. But though they could 
 plainly see their footing, and so follow them, by 
 their tract and smell, to their holds, even to the 
 mouths of their caves and dens, yet take them, 
 hold them, and do justice upon them, they could 
 not, their ways were so crooked, their holds so 
 strong, and they so quick to take sanctuary there. 
 
 But Mansoul did now with so stiff a hand rule 
 over the Diabolonians that were left, that they 
 were glad to shrink into corners. Time was when 
 they durst walk openly, and in the day, but now 
 they were forced to embrace privacy, and the night 
 —time was when a Mansoulian was their com¬ 
 panion, but now they counted them deadly enemies. 
 This good change did Mr. Prywell’s intelligence 
 make in the famous town of Mansoul. 5 
 
 By this time Diabolus had finished his army, 
 which he intended to bring with him for the ruin 
 of Mansoul; and had set over them captains, and 
 other field-officers, such as liked his furious sto¬ 
 mach best. Himself was lord paramount, Incre¬ 
 dulity was general of his army. Their highest 
 captains shall be named afterwards, but now for 
 their officers, colours, and escutcheons. 
 
 1. Their first captain was Captain Rage, he was 
 captain over the Election-doubters; 
 
 i • -i , , . , . , Diabolus’s army. 
 
 Ins were the red colours, his standard- 
 
 4 This must not be mistaken for Popish or Protestant con¬ 
 fessions, penances, or absolutions. The narrative is entirely 
 spiritual and internal. Conscience, not man, accuses; the 
 open confession is unreservedly to God, accompanied by godly 
 sorrow, watchfulness, and prayer, with fruits meet for repent¬ 
 ance.— (Ed.) 
 
 5 How subtle and insidious is sin 1 in what holes and 
 corners it conceals itself 1 breaking out occasionally when we 
 thought ourselves near to perfection, and making us cry out, 
 ‘ O wretched man that I am 1 who shall deliver me?’— (Ed.) 
 
312 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 bearer was Mr. Destructive, and tlie great red 
 dragon lie had for his escutcheon. Re. xii. 3, 4, is-17. 
 
 2. The second captain was Captain Fury, he was 
 captain over the Vocation-doubters; his standard- 
 bearer was Mr. Darkness, his colours were those 
 that were pale, and he had for his escutcheon the 
 fiery flying serpent. Nu. xxi. 
 
 3. The third captain was Captain Damnation, 
 he was captain over the Grace-doubters; his were 
 the red colours, Mr. Nolife bare them, and he 
 had for his escutcheon the black den. Mat. xxii. 13. 
 Re. ix. 1. 
 
 4. The fourth captain was the Captain Insa¬ 
 tiable, he was captain over the Faith-doubters ; his 
 were the red colours, Mr. Devourer bare them, and 
 he had for an escutcheon the yawning jaws. Pr. 
 xxvii. 20. Ps. xi. 6. 
 
 5. The fifth captain was Captain Brimstone, he 
 was captain over the Perseverance-doubters; his 
 also were the red colours, Mr. Burning bare them, 
 and his escutcheon was the blue and stinking 
 flame. Ps. xi. 6. Re. xiv. 11. 
 
 6. The sixth captain was Captain Torment, he 
 was captain over the Resurrection-doubters; his 
 colours were those that were pale, Mr. Gnaw was 
 his ancient-bearer, and he had the black worm for 
 his escutcheon. Mar. ix. 44—48. 
 
 7. The seventh captain was Captain Noease, 
 he was captain over the Salvation-doubters; his 
 were the red colours, Mr. Restless bare them, and 
 his escutcheon was the ghastly picture of death. 
 Re. vi. 8.; xiv. 11. 
 
 8. The eighth captain was the Captain Sepulchre, 
 he was captain over the Glory-doubters; his also 
 were the pale colours, Mr. Corruption was his 
 ancient-bearer, and he had for his escutcheon a 
 scull, and dead men’s bones. 1 Je. v. 16. ; ii. 25 . 
 
 9. The ninth captain was Captain Pasthope, 
 he was captain of those that are called the Feli¬ 
 city-doubters; his ancient-bearer was Mr. Despair, 
 his also were the red colours, and his escutcheon 
 was the hot iron and the hard heart. 1 1 Tim, iv. 2 . 
 Ro, ii. 5. 
 
 These were his captains, and these were their 
 forces, these were their ancients, these were their 
 colours, and these were their escutcheons. Now, 
 over these did the great Diabolus make superior 
 captains, and they were in number seven, as, 
 namely, the Lord Beelzebub, the Lord Lucifer, 
 
 1 We are here presented with a very curious, hut accurate, 
 division into classes of all our doubts and fears, each under 
 the most appropriate captain, ancient-hearer, or ensign, and 
 standard. As all Christians are more or less subject to their 
 painful visits, it will be useful to scrutinize our doubts; and, 
 having ascertained their nature or class, then prayerfully to 
 compare them with the sacred Oracles, and find that key which 
 opens all the gates in Doubting Castle.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 * The roaring of the drum,’ alluding to that roaring lion 
 seeking whom he may devour. The roaring of a lion is a 
 terrific noise in the night; but Satan has no more power to 
 
 the Lord Legion, tlie Lord Apollyon, tlie Lord 
 Python, the Lord Cerberus, and the Lord Belial; 
 these seven he set over the captains, and Incredu¬ 
 lity was lord-general, and Diabolus was king. 
 
 The Reformades also, such as were like them¬ 
 selves, were made some of them cap- piatoius his ar- 
 tains of hundreds, and some of them my com pi etetl - 
 captains of more, and thus was the army of I 11 - 
 * credulity completed. 
 
 So they set out at Hell-gate-hill, for there they 
 had their rendezvous, from whence they came with 
 a straight course upon their march toward the 
 town of Mansoul. Now, as was hinted before, the 
 town had, as Shaddai would have it, received from 
 the mouth of Mr. Pry well the alarm of their com¬ 
 ing before. Wherefore they set a strong watch 
 at the gates, and had also doubled their guards, 
 they also mounted their slings in good places, 
 where they might conveniently cast out their«great 
 stones, to the annoyance of the furious enemy. 
 
 Nor could those Diabolonians that were in the 
 town do that hurt as was designed they should, for 
 Mansoul was now awake. But, alas ! poor people, 
 they were sorely affrighted at the first appearance 
 of their foes, and at their sitting down before the 
 town, especially when they heard the roaring of 
 their drum. 2 ipe. v. 8. This, to speak truth, was 
 amazingly hideous to hear; it frighted all men 
 seven miles round, if they were but awake and 
 heard it. 3 The streaming of their colours were 
 also terrible and dejecting to behold. 
 
 When Diabolus was come up against the town, 
 first he made his approach to Eargate He makes an 
 and gave it a furious assault, suppos- Margate,andu 
 ing, as it seems, that his friends in re P elled - 
 Mansoul had been ready to do the work within; 
 but care was taken of that before, by the vigilance 
 of the captains. Wherefore, missing of the help 
 that he expected from them, and finding of his 
 army warmly attended with the stones that the 
 slingers did sling—for that I will say for the cap¬ 
 tains, that considering the weakness that yet was 
 upon them, by reason of the long sickness that had 
 annoyed the town of Mansoul, they did gallantly 
 behave themselves—he was forced to Heretreats aud 
 make some retreat from Mansoul, and entrenches him- 
 
 sell 
 
 to intrench himself and his men in the 
 field, without the reach of the slings of the town. 
 
 Ja. iv. 7. 
 
 hurt the saints of God than has the noise of a drum. It may 
 annoy, terrify, and drive us to the bosom of Christ, but it 
 cannot destroy.—(E d.) ‘It is for want of hope (a sound 
 scriptural hope, arising from faith, aud its purifying effects 
 upon the soul), that so many brisk professors, that have so 
 boasted and made brags of their faith, have not been able to 
 endure the drum in the day of alarm aud affliction.’—(Bunyan’s 
 
 Israel's Hope Encouraged , vol. i. p. 580.) 
 
 3 ‘Those tumultuous thoughts, that, like masterless hell¬ 
 hounds, roar and bellow, and make a hideous noise within 
 me.’— Grace Abounding , No. 174 .—(Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 343 
 
 Now, having intrenched himself, he did cast up 
 , four mounts against the town, the first 
 mounts against he called Mount Diabolus, puttinghis 
 
 toil'll ^ ^ 
 
 own name thereon, the more to affright 
 the town of Mansoul; the other three he called 
 thus. Mount Alecto, Mount Megaera, and Mount 
 Tisiphone ; for these are the names of the dreadful 
 furies of hell. 1 Thus he began to play his game 
 with Mansoul, and to serve it as doth the lion 
 his prey, even to mate it fall before his terror. 
 But, as I said, the captains and soldiers resisted 
 so stoutly, and did so much execution with their 
 stones, that they made him—though against sto¬ 
 mach—to retreat, wherefore Mansoul began to 
 take courage. 
 
 Now, upon Mount Diaholus, which was raised 
 
 Diabolus, his 011 ^ ie norfc h side °f the town, there 
 standard set did the tyrant set up his standard, 
 
 and a fearful thing it was to behold, for 
 he had wrought in it by devilish art, after the man¬ 
 ner of an escutcheon, a flaming flame, fearful to 
 behold, and the picture of Mansoul burning in it. 
 
 When Diabolus had thus done, he commanded 
 that his drummer should every night approach the 
 He bids his dram- of the town of Mansoul, and so 
 
 drum ° beat ,us a parley; the command was 
 
 to do it at a-nights, for in the day¬ 
 time they annoyed him with their slings, for the 
 tyrant said that he had a mind to parley with the 
 now trembling town of Mansoul, and he commanded 
 that the drum should beat every night, that through 
 weariness they might at last—if possibly at the 
 first they were unwilling, yet—be forced to do it. 
 
 So his drummer did as commanded, he arose 
 
 Mansoul and did beat his drum. But when 
 trembles at the , , 
 
 noise of his hls drum did go, it one looked towards 
 
 drum. the town 0 f Mansoul, behold darkness 
 
 and sorrow, and the light was darkened in the 
 
 heaven thereof. No noise was ever heard upon 
 
 earth more terrible, except the voice of Shaddai 
 
 when he speaketh. But how did Mansoul tremble! 
 
 It now looked for nothing but forthwith to be 
 
 swallowed up. 2 is. v. 30. 
 
 When this drummer had beaten for a parley, he 
 made this speech to Mansoul: My master has bid 
 me tell you, that if you willingly submit, you shall 
 have the good of the earth, but if you shall be 
 stubborn, he is resolved to take you by force. But 
 by that the fugitive had done beating of his drum, 
 the people of Mansoul had betakeu themselves to 
 the captains that were in the castle, so that there 
 was none to regard, nor to give this drummer an 
 
 1 Bunyan’s general knowledge is truly astonishing. Where 
 could he have scraped acquaintance with the names of the 
 
 furies ? These names are, however, most appropriately applied 
 
 to such objects of terror.— (Ed.) 
 
 ‘ Often, after I had spent this and the other day in siu, I 
 have in my bed been greatly afflicted, when asleep, with the 
 apprehensions of devils, and wicked spirits, who laboured to 
 
 answer, so lie proceeded no further that night, but 
 returned again to his master to the camp. 
 
 When Diabolus saw that, by drumming, ho 
 could not work out Mansoul to his will, the next 
 night he sendeth his drummer without Diabolus calls 
 his drum, still to let the townsmen back llis dmru * 
 know, that he had a mind to parley with them. 
 But when all came to all, his parley was turned 
 into a summons to the town to deliver up them¬ 
 selves, but they gave him neither heed nor hear¬ 
 ing, for they remembered what at first it cost thorn 
 to hear him a few words. 3 
 
 The next night he sends again, and then who 
 should be his messenger to Mansoul but the ter¬ 
 rible Captain Sepulchre; so Captain Sepulchre 
 came up to the walls of Mansoul, and made this 
 oration to the town— 
 
 0 ye inhabitants of the rebellious town of 
 Mansoul! I summon you, in the name ,, , 
 
 J . Mansoul sum- 
 
 of the Prince Diabolus, that without moned by cap- 
 
 , ,, tain Sepulchre. 
 
 any more ado you set open the gates 
 of your town, and admit, the great lord to come in. 
 But if you shall still rebel, when we have taken 
 to us the town by force, we will swallow you up 
 as the grave; wherefore, if you will hearken to my 
 summons, say so, and if not, then let me know. 
 
 The reason of this my summons, quoth he, 
 is, for that my lord is your undoubted prince and 
 lord, as you yourselves have formerly owned. Nor 
 shall that assault that was given to my lord, when 
 Emmanuel dealt so dishonourably by him, prevail 
 with him to lose his right, and to forbear to 
 attempt to recover his own. Consider then, 0 
 Mansoul, with thyself, wilt thou show thyself 
 peaceable or no ? If thou shall quietly yield up 
 thyself, then our old friendship shall be renewed, 
 but if thou shalt yet refuse and rebel, then expect 
 nothing but fire and sword. 
 
 When the languishing town of Mansoul had 
 heard this sutnmoner and his sum- They answer 
 mons, they were yet more put to their lum nofc aword * 
 dumps, but made to the captain no answer at all, 
 so away he went as he came. 4 
 
 But after some consultation among themselves, 
 as also with some of their captains, they applied 
 themselves afresh to the Lord Secretary for coun¬ 
 sel and advice from him, for this Lord They address 
 Secretary was their chier preacher, as theirgoodLord 
 also is mentioned some pages before, Secretary. 
 
 draw me away with them; 
 —Grace Abounding, No. 5. 
 las.—(E d.) 
 
 3 The Christian’s motto 
 tempter; not for a moment, 
 he had with Eve.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 A season of doubt and 
 death and hell. How often 
 soul to its dumps! It is a 
 and examination.— (Ed.) 
 
 of which I could never be rid.’ 
 Here we see the drum of Diabo- 
 
 should be—‘ No parley with the 
 Never forget the fatal parley 
 
 fear encourages the assaults of 
 has Captain Sepulchre put Man¬ 
 blessing when it excites to prayer 
 
S 14 
 
 THE HOLY WAR, 
 
 
 1 
 
 agfi 
 
 H 
 
 t.l 
 
 r 
 
 I'll 
 
 
 itt 
 
 only now lie was 111 at ease, and of him they 
 begged favour in these two or three things— 
 
 1. That he would look comfortably upon them, 
 and not to keep himself so much retired from them 
 as formerly. Also that he would be prevailed 
 with to give them a hearing, while they should 
 make known their miserable condition to him. 
 But to this he told them as before, that as yet lie 
 was but ill at ease, and therefore could not do as 
 he had formerly done. 
 
 2. The second thing that they desired was, that 
 he would be pleased to give them his advice about 
 their now so important affairs, for that Diabolus 
 was come and set down before the town with no 
 less than twenty thousand Doubters. They said, 
 moreover, that both he and his captains were cruel 
 men, and that they were afraid of them. But to 
 this lie said, You must look to the law of the 
 Prince, and there see what is laid upon you to do. 1 
 
 3. Then they desired that his Highness would 
 help them to frame a petition to Sliaddai, and unto 
 Emmanuel his Son, and that he would set his own 
 hand thereto, as a token that he was one with 
 them in it; for, said they, my lord, many a one 
 have we sent, but can get no answer of peace, but 
 now, surely one with thy hand unto it may obtain 
 good for Mansoul. 
 
 But all the answer that he gave to this was 
 ... that they had offended their Em- 
 
 Thp pquqa or Ills ** 
 
 being ill at manuel, and had also grieved himself, 
 and that therefore they must as yet 
 partake of their own devices. 
 
 This answer of the Lord Secretary fell like a 
 millstone upon them, yea, it crushed them so that 
 
 come and bo our help. Now the Lord Mayor was 
 the more critical in his dealing with the Secretary’s 
 words, because my Lord was more than a prophet, 
 and because none of his words were such but that 
 at all times they were most exactly significant, and 
 the townsmen were allowed to pry into them, and 
 to expound them to their best advantage. 3 
 
 So they took their leaves of my Lord, and re¬ 
 turned, and went, aud came to the captains, to 
 whom they did tell what my Lord High Secretary 
 had said, who when they had heard it, were all 
 of the same opinion as was my Lord Mayor him¬ 
 self; the captains therefore began to take some 
 courage unto them, and to prepare to make some 
 brave attempt upon the camp of the enemy, and 
 to destroy all that were Diabolonians, with the 
 roving Doubters that the tyrant had brought with 
 him to destroy the poor town of Mansoul. 
 
 So all betook themselves forthwith to their 
 
 places, the captains to theirs, the The town of 
 
 Lord Mayor to his, the subordinate Mansoul in 
 *j t order. 
 
 Preacher to his, and my Lord Will- 
 be-will to his. The captains longed to be at some 
 work for their Prince, for they delighted in war¬ 
 like achievements. The next day, therefore, they 
 came together and consulted, and, after consulta¬ 
 tion had, they resolved to give an answer to the 
 captain of Diabolus with slings, and so they did 
 at the rising of the sun on the morrow; for Dia¬ 
 bolus had adventured to come nearer again, but 
 the sling-stones were, to him and liis, like hornets. 
 Zee. ix. is. For as there is nothing to the town of 
 Mansoul so terrible as the roaring of Diabolus’s 
 
 drum, so there is nothing to Diabolus so terrible 
 
 they could not tell what to do, yet they durst not as the well playing of Emmanuel’s Words4 applied 
 
 The sad straits 
 of Mansoul. 
 
 comply with the demands of Diabolus, 
 nor with the demands of his captain. 
 So then, here were the straits that the town of 
 Mansoul was betwixt when the enemy came upon 
 her, her foes were ready to swallow her up, and 
 her friends did forbear to help her. 2 Lam. i. 3. 
 
 Then stood up my Lord Mayor, whose name 
 was my Lord Understanding, and he 
 
 A comment upon J . . f* . , . 
 
 the Lord Secre- began to pick and pick, until he had 
 taiy s speech. p* c j. e j comfort out of that seem¬ 
 ingly bitter saying of the Lord Secretary, for thus 
 he descanted upon it: First, said he, 
 this unavoidably follows upon the say- 
 of our Lord that we must yet suffer for our 
 sins. Second. But, quoth he, the words yet found 
 as if at last we should be saved from our enemies, 
 and that after a few more sorrows Emmanuel will 
 
 against him by 
 faith. 
 
 nig 
 
 slings. Wherefore Diabolus was forced 
 to make another retreat, yet further 
 off from the famous town of Mansoul. Then did 
 the Lord Mayor of Mansoul cause the bells to be 
 runo*. and that thanks should be sent to the Lord 
 
 O 7 
 
 High Secretary by the mouth of the subordinate 
 Preacher; for that by his words the captains and 
 elders of Mansoul had been strengthened against 
 Diabolus. 
 
 When Diabolus saw that his captains and 
 soldiers, high lords, and renowned, were frightened, 
 and beaten down by the stones that came from the 
 golden slings of the Prince of the town of Man¬ 
 soul, he bethought himself, and said, I will try to 
 catch them by fawning, I will try to flatter them 
 into my net. 5 Re. xii. 10 . 
 
 1 Rely not upon frames, feelings, or experience, bat go 
 prayerfully to the law and to the testimony; that alone should 
 be ‘ a lamp to our feet, and a light to our path.’— (Ed.) 
 
 2 ‘When I cried to God for mercy, this would come in— 
 It is too late, I am lost; God hath let me fall, not to my cor¬ 
 rection, but mv condemnation .’—Grace Abounding, No. 163. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 3 A personal prying into the Scriptures is a most important 
 duty. As the reader will presently see, these golden slings 
 beat down and frightened the high lords and soldiers, the 
 renowned Doubters under Diabolus.—(E d.) 
 
 4 ‘ Words,’ or texts of Holy Writ.—(E d.) 
 
 5 Satan has various modes of attack. If he succeed not as 
 the roaring lion, he will assume the crafty serpent; if he pre¬ 
 vail not by fear, he will resort to flattery.—(Binder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 3! 5 
 
 Wherefore after a while he came down again to 
 Diaboluschanges the wall, not now with his drum, nor 
 lusway. w ith Captain Sepulchre, but having so 
 all besugared his lips, he seemed to be a very 
 sweet-mouthed, peaceable Prince, designing nothing 
 for humour’s sake, 1 nor to be revenged on Man- 
 soul for injuries by them done to him, but the 
 welfare, and good, and advantage of the town and 
 people therein, wa3 now, as he said, his only 
 design. Wherefore, after he had called for au¬ 
 dience, and desired that the townsfolk would give 
 it to him, he proceeded in his oration: And said, 
 
 * 0 ! the desire of my heart, the famous town of 
 Mansoul! How many nights have I watched, and 
 how many weary steps have 1 taken, if, perhaps, 
 I might do thee good, l Pe. v. 8. Far be it, far be 
 it from me, to desire to make a war upon you, if 
 ye will but willingly and quietly deliver up your¬ 
 selves unto me. You know that you were mine 
 of old. Mat. iv. 8, 9 . Lu. iv. e, 7. Remember also, that 
 so long as you enjoyed me for your lord, and that 
 I enjoyed you for my subjects, you wanted for 
 nothing of all the delights of the earth, that I, 
 Satan reads all your lord and prince, could get for 
 backwards. y OU • or that I could invent to make 
 
 you bonny and blithe withal. Consider, you never 
 had so many hard, dark, troublesome, and heart- 
 afflicting hours, while you where mine, as you have 
 had since you revolted from me ; nor shall you ever 
 have peace again until you and I become one as 
 before. 2 Be but prevailed with to embrace me 
 Take heed Man- again, and I will grant, yea, inlarge 
 your old charter with abundance of 
 privileges ; so that your licence and liberty shall 
 be to take, hold, enjoy, and make your own, all 
 that is pleasant from the east to the west. 3 Nor 
 shall any of those incivilities wherewith you have 
 offended me, be ever charged upon you by me, so 
 long as the the sun and moon endureth. Nor shall 
 any of those dear friends of mine, that now, for 
 the fear of you, lie lurking in dens, 
 and holes, and caves in Mansoul, be 
 hurtful to you any more; yea, they shall be your 
 servants, and shall minister unto you of their sub¬ 
 stance, and of whatever shall come to hand. I 
 need speak no more, you know them, and have 
 The pleasure some time since been much delighted 
 oi sl11, in their company, why then should 
 we abide at such odds? Let us renew our old 
 acquaintance and friendship again. 1 
 
 Sins. 
 
 * For whim, caprice, petulance, or peevishness.—(En.) 
 
 ‘ Gladly would I have been in the condition of a dog or 
 horse, for I knew they had no souls to perish under the ever¬ 
 lasting weight of hell or sin, as mine was like to do .’—Grace 
 Abounding , No. 104 .—(Ed.) 
 
 ° ‘ All the kingdoms of the world, and the glory of them 
 ‘all these things will 1 give thee, if thou wilt fall dowu aud 
 worship me.’ Slat. iv. 8.—(Ed.) 
 
 4 fhe infernal liar promises great things, which he is nei- 
 YOL. III. 
 
 * Bear with your friend; I take the liberty at this 
 time to speak thus freely unto you. no, no, uo ; not 
 The love that I have to you presses cSuafdammJ 
 me to do it, as also does the zeal of tion - 
 
 my heart for my friends with you; put mo not 
 therefore to further trouble, nor yourselves to 
 further fears and frights. Have you I will, in a 
 way of peace or war; nor do you flatter yourselves 
 with the power and force of your captains, or that 
 your Emmanuel will shortly come in to your help, 
 for such strength will do you no pleasure. 
 
 * I am come against you with a stout and valiant 
 army, and all the chief princes of the den, are 
 even at the head of it. Besides, my captains are 
 swifter than eagles, stronger than lions, and more 
 greedy of prey than are the evening-wolves. What 
 is Og of Bashan! What is Goliah of Gath! And 
 what is a hundred more of them to one of the least 
 of my captains! How then shall Mansoul think 
 to escape my hand and force ? ’ 5 
 
 Diabolus having thus ended his flattering, fawn¬ 
 ing, deceitful, and lying speech to the famous town 
 of Mansoul, the Lord Mayor replied upon him as 
 follows:— 
 
 ‘ 0 Diabolus, prince of darkness, and master of 
 all deceit; thy lying flatteries we have Tiie Lord 
 had and made sufficient probation of, Mayor’s answer, 
 and have tasted too deeply of that destructive cup 
 already; should we therefore again hearken unto 
 thee, and so break the commandments of our great 
 Sliaddai, to join in affinity with thee; would not 
 our Prince reject us, and cast U3 off for ever; and 
 being cast off by him, can the place that he has 
 prepared for thee, be a place of rest for us ? Be¬ 
 side, 0 thou that art empty and void of all truth, 
 we are rather ready to die by thy hand, than to 
 foil in with thy flattering and lying deceits.’ 
 
 When the tyrant saw that there was little to be 
 got by parleying with my Lord Mayor, he fell into 
 a hellish rage, and resolved that again, with his 
 armv of Doubters, he would another time assault 
 the town of Mansoul. 
 
 So he called for his drummer, who heat up for 
 his men (and while he did beat, Mansoul did shake), 
 to be in a readiness to give battle to the corpora¬ 
 tion ; then Diabolus drew near with his army, and 
 thus disposed of his men. Captain Cruel, and 
 Captain Torment, these he drew up and placed 
 against Feelgate, and commanded them to sit 
 
 ther able nor willing to perform. Wonderful liberty, meaning 
 frightful shivery; all sensual gratifications, but does not hint 
 that they are destructive to body and soul; perfect freedom 
 from religious fears and straits, but docs not add that after all 
 this comes a portion in the burning lake.—(E d.) 
 
 6 I much doubt whether human ingenuity ever invented a 
 speech so worthy of the terms * flattering, fawning, deceitful, 
 aud lyiug.’ It is worthy the mouth of the god of this world, 
 the prince of the power of the air. It is a marvellous in¬ 
 vention of an unlettered mechanic, presenting itself to the 
 imagination with all the force and power of reality. — (Ed.) 
 
 41 
 
346 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. . 
 
 Feelgate. 
 
 Nosegate. 
 
 Eyegate, 
 
 Moutligate, 
 
 down there for the war. 1 And he also appointed, 
 that if need were, Captain Noease should 
 come in to their relief. 
 
 At Nosegate he placed the Captain Brimstone, 
 and Captain Sepulchre, and bid them 
 look well to their ward, on that side 
 of the town of Mansoul. But at Eyegate he 
 placed that grim-faced one the Cap¬ 
 tain Pasthope, and there also now he* 
 did set up his terrible standard. 
 
 Now Captain Insatiable he was to look to the 
 carriage of Diabolus, and was also appointed to 
 take into custody, that, or those persons and 
 things that should at any time as prey be taken 
 from the enemy. 
 
 Now Moutligate the inhabitants of Mansoul kept 
 for a sally-port, wherefore that they 
 kept strong, for that was it, by, and 
 out at which the towns-folk did send their petitions 
 to Emmanuel their Prince; that also was the gate 
 from the top of which the captains did play their 
 slings at the enemies, for that gate stood somewhat 
 ascending, so that the placing of them there, and 
 the letting of them fly from that place, did much 
 
 The use of execution against the tyrant’s army ; 
 
 Mouthgate. wherefore for these causes, with others, 
 Diabolus sought, if possible, to land up Mouthgate 
 with dirt. 2 
 
 Now as Diabolus was busy and industrious in 
 preparing to make his assault upon the town of 
 Mansoul without, so the captains and soldiers in 
 the corporation were as busy in preparing within ; 
 they mounted their slings, they set up their ban¬ 
 ners, they sounded their trumpets, and put them¬ 
 selves in such order as was judged most for the 
 annoyance of the enemy, and for the advantage of 
 Mansoul, and gave to their soldiers orders to be 
 ready at the sound of the trumpet for war. The 
 ™ T . Lord Will-be-will also, he took the 
 be-will plays charge of watching against the rebels 
 within, and to do what he could to 
 take them while without, or to stifle them within 
 their caves, dens, and holes, in the town-wall of 
 Mansoul. And to speak the truth of him, ever 
 since he took penance for his fault, he has showed 
 as much honesty and bravery of spirit as any he 
 
 Jolley and Gri- 111 ManSOul 5 for he to O k One Jolley, 
 gish taken and and liis brother Grigish, the two sons 
 
 of his servant Harmless-mirth, 3 for to 
 that day, though the father was committed to 
 ward, the sons had a dwelling in the house of my 
 
 1 The intention of Diabolus is to fill the soul with doubts, 
 and, if possible, with despair. He places his forces at Feel- 
 gate ; that is, lie would lead the soul to doubt by trusting to 
 his religious frames and feelings, instead of looking only to 
 Jesus.—(Burder.) 
 
 2 So valuable to the soul is prayer, that Diabolus attempts 
 to prevent it, by rendering Mouthgate impassible. Nothing 
 can be more, expressive than the terms, ‘ to land up,’ or block 
 
 lord. I say he took them, and with his own hands 
 put them to the cross. And this was the reason 
 why he hanged them up, after their father was 
 put into the hands of Mr. Trueman the jailer ; 
 they his sons began to play his pranks, and to be 
 ticking and toying with the daughters of their 
 lord ; nay, it was jealoused that they were too 
 familiar with them, the which was brought to his 
 lordship’s ear. Now his lordship, being unwilling 
 unadvisedly to put any man to death, did not sud¬ 
 denly fall upon them, but set watch and spies to 
 see if the thing was true ; of the which he was 
 soon informed, for his two servants, whose names 
 were Findout, and Tellall, catched them together 
 in uncivil manner more than once or twice, and 
 went and told their lord. So when my Lord Will- 
 be-will had sufficient ground to believe the thing 
 was true, he takes the two young Diabolonians, 
 for such they were, for their father was a Diabo- 
 lonian born, and has them to Eyegate, where he 
 raised a very high cross just in the face of Dia¬ 
 bolus, and of his army, and there he The place of 
 hanged the young villains in defiance theu ‘ executlon - 
 to Captain Pasthope, and of the horrible standard 
 of the tyrant. 
 
 Now this Christian act of the brave Lord Will- 
 be-will did greatly abash Captain Pasthope, dis¬ 
 courage the army of Diabolus, put fear into the 
 Diabolonian runagates in Mansoul, and put 
 strength and courage into the captains that be¬ 
 longed to Emmanuel the Prince; for , 
 
 ° iii Mortification of 
 
 they without did gather, and that, by sin is a sign of 
 
 this very act of my lord, that Mansoul hope of 1Ue ' 
 was resolved to fight, and that the Diabolonians 
 within the town could not do such things as Dia¬ 
 bolus had hopes they would. Nor was this the 
 only proof of the brave Lord Will-be-will’s honesty 
 to the town, nor of his loyalty to his Prince,, as 
 will afterwards appear. 
 
 Now when the children of Prudent-thrifty, who 
 dwelt with Mr. Mind, for Thrift left children with 
 Mr. Mind, when he was also committed Mr< playg 
 to prison, and their names were Gripe ' tlie man - 
 and Rake-all; these he begat of Mr. Mind’s bas¬ 
 tard-daughter, whose nam’e was Mrs. Ilold-fast- 
 bad, I say, when his children perceived how the 
 Lord Will-be-will had served them that dwelt with 
 him, what do they but, lest they should drink of 
 the same cup, endeavour to make their escape ? 
 But Mr. Mind being wary of it, took them and put 
 
 up, * the way with dirt,’ so as to prevent the soul’s approach 
 
 to a pure and holy God.’—(E d.) 
 
 3 To really harmless mirth, to he merry and wise, there 
 can he no objection. 
 
 ‘ Religion never was designed 
 To make our pleasures less.’ 
 
 But beware of Jolley and Grigish. If mirth produces them, 
 be sure that it is not harmless, aud at once put them to the 
 cross.— (Ed.) 
 
TITE TIOLY WAR. 
 
 347 
 
 them in hold hi his House till morning, for this was 
 done over night, and remembering that by the law 
 of Mansoul, all Diabolonians were to die, and to be 
 sure they were at least by father’s side such, and 
 some say by mother’s side too, what does he but 
 takes them and puts them in chains, and carries 
 them to the self-same place where my lord hanged 
 his two before, and there he hanged them. 
 
 The townsmen also took great encouragement 
 
 Mansoul set a- a ^ ac ^ Mr. Mind,‘and did what 
 gainst die Dia- they could to have taken some more of 
 
 these Diabolonian troublers of Man- 
 soul ; but at that time the rest lay so quat 1 * and 
 close that they could not be apprehended ; so they 
 set against them a diligent watch, and went every 
 man to his place. 
 
 I told you a little before that Diabolus and his 
 army were somewhat abashed and discouraged at 
 the sight of what my Lord Will-be-will did, when 
 Diabolus. His he hanged up those two young Dia- 
 ed'into S fui^ious bolonians; but his discouragement 
 madness. quickly turned itself into furious mad¬ 
 ness and rage against the town of Mansoul, and 
 fight it he would. Also the townsmen, and cap¬ 
 tains within, they had their hopes and their expec¬ 
 tations heightened, believing at last the day would 
 be theirs, so they feared them the less. Their 
 subordinate Preacher too made a sermon about it, 
 and he took that theme for his text, ‘ Gad, a troop 
 shall overcome him; but he shall overcome at the 
 last.’ Ge. xiix. 19. Whence he showed that though 
 Mansoul should be sorely put to it at the first, yet 
 the victory should most certainly be Mansoul’s at 
 the last. 
 
 So Diabolus commanded that his drummer should 
 beat a charge against the town, and the captains 
 also that were in the town sounded a charge against 
 them, but they had no drum, they were trumpets 
 of silver with which they sounded against them. 
 Then they which were of the camp of Diabolus came 
 With heart and down to the town to take it, and the 
 
 mouth. captains in the castle, with the sling- 
 ers at Mouthgate played upon them amain. And 
 now there was nothing heard in the camp of Dia¬ 
 bolus but horrible rage and blasphemy; but in the 
 town good words, prayer, and singing of psalms. 
 The enemy replied with horrible objections, and 
 the terribleness of their drum; but the town made 
 answer with the slapping of their slings, and the 
 melodious noise of their trumpets. And thus the 
 fight lasted for several days together, only now and 
 then they had some small intermission, in the which 
 
 1 ‘Q,uat,’ now spelt ‘squat,’ to lie or sit close, still, or 
 lurking— 
 
 * Squat like, a toad.’—Milion. 
 
 In a Glasgow edition, 1720, it is altered to ‘quiet.’ In 1752, 
 
 it is ‘ lay so close.’—(E d.) 
 
 J Stinking and loathsome is sin in the sight of God. May 
 we be sensible of the tilthiuess of sin, as David was :—‘ Mine 
 
 the townsmen refreshed themselves, and the cap¬ 
 tains made ready for another assault. 
 
 The captains of Emmanuel were clad in silver 
 armour, and the soldiers in that which was of proof; 
 the soldiers of Diabolus were clad in iron, which 
 was made to give place to Emmanuel’s engine-shot. 
 In the town some were hurt, and some were great¬ 
 ly wounded. Now the worst on it was, a surgeon 
 was scarce in Mansoul, for that Emmanuel at pre¬ 
 sent was absent. Ilowbeit, with the leaves of a 
 tree the wounded were kept from dying; yet their 
 wounds did greatly putrify, and some did grievously 
 Stink." Re. xxii. 2. Ps. xxxviii. 5. Ol these WC1’6 WOlluded, 
 to wit, 
 
 My Lord Reason, he was wounded in the head. 
 
 Another that was wounded was the \\q 10 or Mansoul 
 brave Lord Mayor, he was wounded in were wounded. 
 
 the Eye. 
 
 Another that was wounded was Mr. Mind, he 
 received his wound about the Stomach. 3 * 
 
 The honest subordinate Preacher also, he re¬ 
 ceived a shot not far off the heart, but none of these 
 were mortal. 
 
 Many also of the inferior sort were not only 
 wounded, but slain outright. Hopeful 
 
 Now in the camp of Diabolus were thoughts, 
 wounded and slain a considerable number. For 
 instance. 
 
 Captain Rage he was wounded, and so was Cap¬ 
 tain Cruel. Who in the camp 
 
 Captain Damnation was made to re- °f ere bounded 
 treat, and to intrench himself further aud slaiu - 
 off of Mansoul; the standard also of Diabolus was 
 beaten down, and his standard-bearer Captain Much- 
 hurt, had his brains beat out with a sling-stone, to 
 the no little grief and shame of his prince Diabolus. 
 
 Many also of the Doubters were slain outright, 
 though enough of them are left alive to make Man- 
 soul shake and totter. Now the victory The victory dia 
 that day being turned to Mansoul, did turn that day 
 put great valour into the townsmen and 
 captains, and did cover Diabolus’s camp with a 
 cloud, but withal it made them far more furious. So 
 the next day Mansoul rested, and commanded that 
 the bells should be rung; the trumpets also joyfully 
 sounded, and the captains shouted round the town. 
 
 My Lord Will-be-will also was not idle, but did 
 notable service within against the do- My Lord Wi(1 . 
 mestics, or the Diabolonians that were b(Mvdl ta H eth 
 
 1 . „ one Anything, 
 
 in the town, not only by keeping of amione Loose- 
 
 them in awe, tor he lighted on one at mitteth them 
 
 last whose name was Mr. Anything, 4 tovvanL 
 
 iniquities are gone over my head; my wounds stink and are 
 corrupt, because of my foolishness.’ Ps. xxxviii. 4, 5 .—(Ed.) 
 
 3 A curious idea, but fully borne out both by reason and 
 Scripture. Gluttony or drunkenness injures the mind. Peter 
 says, ‘ Add to knowledge temperance.’ 2 Pe. i. 6 .—(Ed.) 
 
 4 Anything means indifference about religion, a conformity 
 or opposition to it, as convenience requires.—(Burder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 348 
 
 a fellow of whom mention was made before ; for it 
 was lie, if you remember, that brought the three fel¬ 
 lows to Diabolus, whom the Diabolonians took out 
 of Captain Boanerges’company; and that persuaded 
 them to list themselves under the tyrant, to fight 
 against the army of Shaddai; my Lord Will-be-will 
 did also take a notable Diabolonian, whose name 
 was Loosefoot ; l this Loosefoot was a scout to the 
 vagabonds in Mansoul, and that did use to carry > 
 tidings out of Mansoul to the camp, and out of the 
 camp to those of the enemies in Mansoul; both 
 these my lord sent away safe to Mr. Trueman the 
 jailer, with a commandment to keep them in irons; 
 for he intended then to have them out to be cruci¬ 
 fied, when it would be for the best to the corpora¬ 
 tion, and most for the discouragement of the camp 
 of the enemies. 
 
 My Lord Mayor also, though he could not stir 
 The captains about so much as formerly, because of 
 upon^th^ene- *' ie womi( l that he lately received, yet 
 m y- gave he out orders to all that were the 
 
 natives of Mansoul to look to their watch, and 
 stand upon their guard, and, as occasion should 
 offer, to prove themselves men. 
 
 Mr. Conscience the preacher, he also did his 
 utmost to keep all his good documents 2 alive upon 
 the hearts of the people of Mansoul. 
 
 [Chapter XV.] 
 
 [Contents :—The inhabitants of Mansoul make a rash sortie 
 on the enemy by night, but are repulsed with loss—Dia¬ 
 bolus makes a desperate attack upon Feelgate, which, 
 being weak, he forces; and his army of Doubters possess 
 the town, and do incredible mischief—The inhabitants, 
 sorely aggrieved, determine on a new application to Em¬ 
 manuel, and procure the assistance of the Secretary in 
 preparing the petition, which is presented by Captain 
 Credence — He is favourably received, and appointed 
 Lord Lieutenant over all the forces.] 
 
 Well, a while after the captains and stout ones 
 of the town of Mansoul agreed and resolved upon 
 a time to make a sally out upon the camp of Dia¬ 
 bolus, and this must be done in the night, 3 and 
 there was the folly of Mansoul, for the night is 
 always the best for the enemy, but the worst for 
 Mansoul to fight in; but yet they would do it, their 
 courage was so high; their last victory also still 
 stuck in their memories. 
 
 So the night appointed being come, the Prince’s 
 
 Thevfwiit in the ^rave captains cast lots who should 
 niifiit, who do lead the van in this new and desper- 
 
 lead the van. , , 
 
 ate expedition against Diabolus, and 
 against his Diabolonian army, and the lot fell to 
 
 1 Loosefoot may signify a careless walk and conversation.— 
 (Burder.) 
 
 2 The books, chapters, or verses of holy Writ.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 Night, or a time of desertion, was the best for the ene¬ 
 my ; for then self-confidence prevailed, the soul depended upon 
 
 Captain Credence, to Captain Experience, and to 
 Captain Goodhope to lead the Forlorn Hope. This 
 Captain Experience the Prince created such when 
 himself did reside in the town of Mansoul; so, as 
 I said, they made their sally out upon How tliey fall 
 the army that lay in the siege against on - 
 them; and their hap was to fall in with the main 
 body of their enemies. Now Diabolus and his men 
 being expertly accustomed to night work, took the 
 alarm presently, and were as ready to give them 
 battle, as if they had sent them word of their com¬ 
 ing. Wherefore to it they went amain, and blows 
 were hard on every side; the hell-drum also was 
 beat most furiously, while the trumpets of the 
 Prince most sweetly sounded. And thus the battle 
 was joined, and Captain Insatiable looked to the 
 enemies carriages, 4 and waited when he should re¬ 
 ceive some prey. 
 
 The Prince’s captains fought it stoutly, beyond 
 what indeed could be expected they They fight 
 should; they wounded many; they bravely, 
 made the whole army of Diabolus to make a re¬ 
 treat. But I cannot tell how, but the brave Cap¬ 
 tain Credence, Captain Goodhope, and Captain 
 Experience, as they were upon the pursuit, cutting 
 down, and following hard after the enemy in the 
 rear, Captain Credence stumbled and captain Cre- 
 fell, by which fall he caught so great dence hurt - 
 a hurt that he could not rise till Captain Experience 
 did help him up, at which their men were put in 
 disorder; the captain also was so full of pain that 
 he could not forbear but aloud to cry The rest of the 
 out; at this the other two captains Jaith 1 essen^ 
 fainted, supposing that Captain Cre- TIAU 
 dence had received his mortal wound: their men 
 also were more disordered, and had no list to fight. 
 Now Diabolus being Very observing though at this 
 time as yet he was put to the worst, perceiving 
 that a halt was made among the men that were the 
 pursuers, what does he but taking it Diabolic takes 
 for granted that the captains were courage, 
 either wounded or dead; he therefore makes at first 
 a stand, then faces about, and so comes up upon 
 the Prince’s army with as much of his fury as hell 
 could help him to, and his hap was to fall in just 
 among the three captains, Captain Credence, Cap¬ 
 tain Goodhope, and Captain Experience, and did 
 cut, wound, and pierce them so dread- ThePrince’sfor- 
 fully, that what through discourage- ces beaten, 
 ment, what through disorder, and what through 
 the wounds that now they had received, and also 
 the loss of much blood, they scarce were able, 
 though they had for tlieir power the three best 
 bands in Mansoul, to get safe into the hold again. 
 
 a fancied inherent strength of its own, which is perfect weak¬ 
 ness. In the Lord alone have we righteousness and strength 
 for the battle.—(Mason.) 
 
 4 Behaviour, deportment.—(E d.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 349 
 
 Now, when the body of the Prince’s army saw 
 
 Satan some h°' v ^ icse ^ iree captains were put to 
 
 times makes the worst, they thought it their wisdom 
 saints cat r, ° 
 
 their own to make as sate and good a retreat as 
 they could, and so returned by the 
 sally-port again, and so there was an end of this 
 
 Diaboto. flushed. P resent action ' 1 But Diabolus was 
 so flushed with this night’s work, that 
 he promised himself, in few days, an easy and 
 complete conquest over the town of Mansoul; 
 lie demands the wherefore, on the day following, he 
 town - comes up to the sides thereof with 
 great boldness, and demands entrance, and that 
 forthwith they deliver themselves up to hi 3 govern¬ 
 ment. The Diabolonians too, that were within, they 
 began to be somewhat brisk, as we shall show 
 afterward. 
 
 But the valiant Lord Mayor replied that what 
 TheLordMayor’s he got he must get by force, for as 
 answer. long as Emmanuel their Prince was 
 alive, though he at present was not so with them 
 as they wished, they should never consent to yield 
 Mansoul up to another. 
 
 And with that the Lord Will-be-will stood up 
 
 Brave Wiii-be- & n d said, * Diabolus, thou master of the 
 will’s speech. q en> an( J enem y to a p that j g g 00( ] ? 
 
 we, poor inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, are 
 too well aeqainted with thy rule and government, 
 and with the end of those things that for certain 
 will follow submitting to thee, to do it. 1 2 Where¬ 
 fore, though while we were without knowledge we 
 suffered thee to take us, as the bird that saw not 
 the snare fell into the hands of the fowler, yet, 
 since we have been turned from darkness to light, 
 we have also been turned from the power of Satan 
 to God. And though, through thy subtilty, and 
 also the subtilty of the Diabolonians within, w T e 
 have sustained much loss, and also plunged our¬ 
 selves into much perplexity, yet give up ourselves, 
 lay down our arms, and yield to so horrid a tyrant 
 as thou, we shall not, die upon the place we choose 
 rather to do. Besides, we have hopes that in time 
 deliverance will come from court unto us, and 
 therefore we yet will maintain a war against thee.’ 
 
 This brave speech of the Lord Will-be-will, with 
 Tie captaius that also of the Lord Mayor, did some- 
 encouraged. w ] ia t abate the boldness of Diabolus, 
 though it kindled the fury of his rage. It also 
 succoured the townsmen and captains, yea, it was 
 as a plaster to the brave Captain Credence’s 
 wound ; for you must know, that a brave speech 
 
 | bow, when the captains of the town with their men 
 of war came home routed, and when the enemy 
 took courage and boldness at the success that he 
 had obtained, to draw up to the walls and demand 
 entrance as he did, was in season, and also ad¬ 
 vantageous. 
 
 The Lord Will-be-will also did play the man 
 within, for while the captains and soldiers were in 
 the field, he was in arms in the town, and wher¬ 
 ever by him there was a Diabolonian found, they 
 were forced to feel the weight of his Rteavy hand, 
 and also the edge of his penetrating sword; many 
 therefore of the Diabolonians he wounded, as the 
 Lord Cavil, the Lord Brisk, the Lord Pragmatic, 
 and the Lord Murmur, several also of the meaner 
 sort he did sorely maim, though there cannot at 
 this time an account be given you of any that he 
 slew outright. The cause, or rather the advan¬ 
 tage, that my Lord Will-be-will had at this time 
 to do thus, was, for that the captains were gone 
 out to fight the enemy in the field. For now, 
 thought the Diabolonians within, is our time to 
 stir and make an uproar in the town; what do they 
 therefore but quickly get themselves into a body, 
 and fall forthwith to hurricaning in Mansoul, 3 as if 
 now nothing but whirlwind and tempest should be 
 there, wherefore, as I said, he takes 
 this opportunity to fall in among them 
 with his men, cutting and slashing wiii-be-wiii’s 
 with courage that was undaunted, at gallantry, 
 which the Diabolonians with all haste dispersed 
 themselves to their holds, and my lord to his place 
 as before. 
 
 This brave act of my lord did somewhat revenge 
 the wrong done by Diabolus to the captains, and 
 also did let them know that Mansoul AT ... 
 
 . , . . „ , _ Nothing like 
 
 was not to be parted with tor the loss faith to crush 
 
 of a victory or two; wherefore the ■ Dldljolus ' 
 wing of the tyrant was clipped again—as to boast¬ 
 ing I mean—in comparison of what he would have 
 done if the Diabolonians had put the town to the 
 same plight to which he had put the captains. 
 
 Well, Diabolus yet resolves to have the other 
 
 bout with Mansoul; for, thought he, since I beat 
 
 them once, I may beat them twice; wherefore he 
 
 commanded his men to be ready at He tries wl)at 
 
 such an hour of the night, to make a be can do upon 
 r ° . . the sense and 
 
 fresh assault upon the town, and he feeling of the 
 
 it gave out in special that they should Clirlstum - 
 
 bend all their force against Feelgate, 4 and attempt 
 
 1 The night of darkness and desertion was not a proper 
 season for this effort. It seems intended to show the effects 
 of the prevalence of a self-confident spirit, which cannot issue 
 well; lor faith, hope, and experience were wounded.—(Burder.) 
 
 Misery without remedy and without end; eternal death; 
 the being cut off from God, the root and fountain of happi¬ 
 ness.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 If this word was coined by Bunyan, he could not have j 
 
 introduced anything more appropriate. No word in common 
 use could convey an idea of the wretchedly uneasy state of the 
 soul in such a siege. • Evil thoughts and imaginations are 
 hurricaning within him ; it is a tempest rushing upon him at 
 once from all quarters; like Bunyan’s feelings, as described in 
 Grace Abounding, No. 187.—(Ed.) 
 
 4 Again Diabolus determines to attack Mansoul by Feel- 
 gate. The cry was incessantly to be Hell-fire t Hell fire! 
 Christian, depend not upon your frames or feelings, but upon 
 
350 
 
 THE HOLY WAIL 
 
 to break into tlie town through that; the word that 
 then he did give to his officers and soldiers, w r as 
 Hell-fire. And, said he, if Ave break in upon them, 
 as I wish Ave do, either Avith some, or Avitli all our 
 force, let them that break in look to it, that they 
 forget not the word. And let nothing be heard 
 in tlie toAvn of Mansoul but Hell-fire, Hell-fire, 
 Hell-fire! The drummer was also to beat Avithout 
 ceasing, and the standard-bearers Avere to display 
 their colours, the soldiers too were to put on Avhat 
 courage they could, and to see that they played 
 manfully their parts against the town. 
 
 So the night Avas come, and all things by the 
 tyrant made ready for the work; he suddenly makes 
 Peeigate but his assault upon Feelgate, and after 
 weak. j ie j ia( j a w hil e struggled there, he 
 throAvs the gates Avide open. For the truth is, 
 those gates Avere but Aveak, and so most easily 
 made to yield. When Diabolus had thus far made 
 his attempt, he placed his captains, to Avit, Tor¬ 
 ment and Noease there, so he attempted to press 
 forward, but the Prince’s captains came down upon 
 him, and made his entrance more difficult than he 
 desired. And, to speak the truth, they made Avhat 
 resistance they could, but the three of their best 
 and most valiant captains being Avounded, and by 
 When these their wounds made much incapable of 
 
 three captains doing the town that service they Avould, 
 are disabled, ° J ’ 
 
 what can the and all the rest having more than their 
 
 town 1 of°Man- hands full of the Doubters, and their 
 
 s°ui? captains that did folloAv Diabolus, they 
 
 Avere overpotvered with force, nor could they keep 
 
 them out of the toAvn. Wherefore the Prince’s 
 
 men and their captains betook themselves to the 
 
 castle, as to the strong hold of the town, and this 
 
 they did partly for their oivn security, partly for 
 
 the security of tlie town, and partly, or rather 
 
 chiefly, to preserve to Emmanuel the prerogative- 
 
 royal of Mansoul, for so Avas the castle of Mansoul. 1 
 
 The captains therefore being fled into the castle, 
 the enemy, Avithout much resistance, possess them¬ 
 selves of the rest of the town, and spreading 
 themselves as they went into every corner, they 
 cried out as they marched, according to the com¬ 
 mand of the tyrant, Hell-fire, Hell-fire, Hell-fire! so 
 that nothing for a Avliile, throughout the toAvn of 
 Mansoul, could be heard but the direful noise of 
 Hell-fire, together Avith the roaring of Diabolus’s 
 The sad fruits drum. 2 And noAv did the clouds hang 
 of apostacy. black over Mansoul, nor to reason did 
 anything but ruin seem to attend it. Diabolus 
 also quartered his soldiers in the houses of the 
 inhabitants of the town of Mansoul. Yea, the 
 
 the immutable and unchangeable Word of God. The terrors 
 of hell will get hold upon him who trusts to his experience, 
 instead of fixing all his hopes in the Lord Jehovah.— (Ed.) 
 
 1 The heart. It is a blessed presage when that is right 
 with God; then may the soul, in the strength of the Lord, 
 
 subordinate Preacher’s house xvas as full of these 
 outlandish Doubters as ever it could hold; and so 
 was my Lord Mayor’s, and my Lord Will-be-will’s 
 also. Yea, xvhere Avas there a corner, a cottage, 
 a barn, or a hog-stye, that now Avere not full of 
 these vermin? yea, they turned the men of the 
 town out of their houses, and would lie in their 
 beds, and sit at their tables themselves. Ah, poor 
 Mansoul! Noav thou feelest the fruits of sin, and 
 Avhat venom Avas in the flattering Avords of Mr. 
 Carnal-security! They made great havoc of Avliat- 
 ever they laid their hands on; yea, 
 they fired the toAvn in several places, 
 many young children also were by them dashed 
 in pieces, yea, those that were yet G ood and tender 
 unborn they destroyed in their mother’s thoughts, 
 wombs ; for you must needs think that it could not 
 noAv be otherwise; for Avhat conscience, what pity, 
 Avhat boAvels of compassion can any expect at the 
 hands of out-landish Doubters ; many Holy concep- 
 in Mansoul that were women, both turns of good, 
 young and old, they forced, ravished, and beast¬ 
 like abused, so that they swooned, miscarried, 
 and many of them died, and so lay at the top 
 of every street, and in all by-places of the 
 toAvn. 
 
 And now did Mansoul seem to be nothing but a 
 
 den of dragons, an emblem of hell, and a place of 
 total darkness. Noav did Mansoul lie almost like 
 the barren wilderness, nothing but nettles, briars, 
 thorns, Aveeds, and stinking things seemed noAv to 
 cover the face of Mansoul. I told you before Iioav 
 that these Diabolonian Doubters turned 
 the men of Mansoul out of their beds ; 
 and now I Avill add, they Avounded them, they 
 mauled them, yea, and almost brained many of 
 them. Many, did I say, yea, most, if not all of 
 them; Mr. Conscience they so Avounded, yea, and 
 his Avounds so festered, that he could s a a work among 
 have no ease day nor night, but lay as the to '™smen 
 if continually upon a rack; but that Shaddai rules 
 all, certainly they had slain him outright. My 
 Lord Mayor they so abused that they almost put 
 out his eyes, and had not my Lord Will-be-Avill 
 got into the castle, they intended to have chopped 
 him all to pieces, for they did look upon him, as 
 his heart now stood, to be one of the very worst 
 that was in Mansoul against Diabolus Satan has a par- 
 
 and his creAv. And indeed he hath against a sanc- 
 showed himself a man, and more of tifiedwiii. 
 his exploits you will hear of afterwards. 
 
 exult and say, ‘ Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy; for 
 when 1 fall, I shall rise again.’—(Mason.) 
 
 2 ‘ I could neither eat my food, stoop for a pin, chop a 
 stick, or cast mine eye to look on this or that, but still the 
 temptation would come. Sell Christ for this, or sell Christ for 
 that; sell him, sell him .’—Grace Abounding , No. 185. None 
 but the experienced Christian knows the terror of Diabolus’s 
 drum.— (Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 351 
 
 Now a man might have walked for days together 
 in Mansoul, and scarce have seen one 
 in the town that looked like a religious 
 man. 0 the fearful state of Mansoul now! Now 
 every corner swarmed with out-landish Doubters; 
 The soul full of red-coats and black-coats 1 walked the 
 and thou ifias! town by clusters, and filled up all the 
 phemies. houses with hideous noises, vain songs, 
 lying stories, and blasphemous language against 
 Shaddai and his Son. 2 Now, also, those Diabo- 
 lonians that lurked in the walls and dens and 
 holes that were in the town of Mansoul, came forth 
 and showed themselves, yea, walked with open 
 face in company with the Doubters that were in 
 Mansoul. Yea, they had more boldness now to 
 walk the streets, to haunt the houses, and to show 
 themselves abroad, than had any of the honest 
 inhabitants of the now woful town of Mansoul. 3 
 
 But Diabolus and his out-landish men were not 
 at peace in Mansoul, for they were not there en¬ 
 tertained as were the captains and forces of Em¬ 
 manuel ; the townsmen did browbeat them what 
 they could; nor did they partake or make stroy 4 
 of any of the necessaries of Mansoul, but that 
 which they seized on against the townsmen’s will; 
 what they could they hid from them, and what 
 they could not they had with an ill-will. They, 
 poor hearts, had rather have had their room than 
 their company, but they were at present their 
 captives, and their captives for the present they 
 were forced to be. Ro. vii. But, I say, they dis¬ 
 countenanced them as much as they were able, and 
 showed them all the dislike that they could. 5 
 
 The captains also from the castle did hold them 
 in continual play with their slings, to the chasing 
 and fretting of the minds of the enemies. True, 
 Mr. Godly-fear Diabolus made a great many attempts 
 of "the ^castle have broken open the gates of the 
 castle, but Mr. Godly-fear was made 
 the keeper of that; and he was a man of that cour¬ 
 age, conduct and valour, that it was in vain, as long 
 as life lasted within him, to think to do that work 
 though mostly desired, wherefore all the attempts 
 
 1 How hard but just a blow is this to the pompous pride 
 both of the military aud clerical orders. In Bunyan’s time, 
 both these professions were filled with the friends and follow T ers 
 of Diabolus. The black coats are, in our day, much reformed. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 2 Such is the dreadful nature of unbelief! It is the minister 
 of confusion, lying, vanity, and blaspheming against the faith¬ 
 fulness of a covenant God.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 Imagine a poor harassed soul, a member of a Christian 
 church, in this lamentable state. What would the pastor, 
 elders, and church do with him? How would some argue, j 
 He is a disgrace to us, and ought to be cast out 1 Alas! poor 
 soul, he would get rid of the doubters if he could. While the 
 fear of God is in his heart, pray for him, cherish him, but cast 
 him not out.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 ‘ Stroy,’ obsolete, means destroy— 
 
 Some they stroye and some they brenne.’ 
 
 It was altered, in 1707, to ‘make destruction.’—(E d.) 
 
 Heart. 
 
 that Diabolus made against him were fruitless. I 
 have wished sometimes that that man had had the 
 whole rule of the town of Mansoul. 6 
 
 Well, this wa3 the condition of the town of Man¬ 
 soul for about two years and an half; 
 the body of the town was the seat of Mansoul n the 
 war; 7 the people of the town were seatofwar - 
 driven into holes, and the glory of Mansoul was 
 laid in the dust; what rest then could be to the in¬ 
 habitants, what peace could Mansoul have, and 
 what sun could shine upon it ? had the enemy lain 
 so long without in the plain against the town, it 
 had been enough to have famished them; but now 
 when they shall be within, when the town shall be 
 their tent, their trench, and fort against the castle 
 that was in the town when the town shall be against 
 the town, and shall serve to be a defence to the 
 enemies of her strength and life: I say, when they 
 shall make use of the forts, and town-holds, to se¬ 
 cure themselves in, even till they shall 
 take, spoil, and demolish the castle, 
 this was terrible; and yet this was now the state 
 of the town of Mansoul. 8 
 
 After the town of Mansoul had been in this sad 
 and lamentable condition for so long a time as I 
 have told you, and no petitions that they presented 
 their Prince with, all this while, could prevail; the 
 inhabitants of the town, to wit, the elders and chief 
 of Mansoul gathered together, and after some time 
 spent in condoling their miserable state, and this 
 miserable judgment coming upon them, they agreed 
 together to draw up yet another pe- MrGod]y . fear , 8 
 tition, and to send it away to Em- advice about 
 manuel for relief. But Mr. Godly-fear a^petifion 1 ’ to 
 stood up, and answered, that he knew tlie 1>nnce ‘ 
 that his Lord the Prince never did, nor ever would 
 receive a petition for these matters from the hand 
 of any whoever, unless the Lord Secretary’s hand 
 was to it; and this, quoth he, is the reason that 
 you prevailed not all this while. Then they said, 
 they would draw up one, and get the Lord Secret¬ 
 ary’s hand to it. 9 But Mr. Godly-fear answered 
 
 6 This is an awful representation of the state of a soul over¬ 
 whelmed with distressing doubts of God’s love, and fear of 
 eternal destruction. ‘ Torment’ and ‘Noease’ take possession 
 of the feelings. The understanding is darkened, and the con¬ 
 science wounded; while a crowd of idle thoughts, vanities, 
 and blasphemies increase the confusion and dismay.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 For a most solemn, encouraging, and admirable treatise 
 on the * Fear of God,’ see Bunyan’s Works, vol. i. p. 437.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 7 ‘Nothing now, for two years together, would abide with 
 me, but damnation, aud an expectation of damnation.’— Grace 
 Abounding, No. 142 .—(Ed.) 
 
 8 In the midst of all this misery, the castle is safe; or, in 
 other words, the heart remains right with God, Godly-fear 
 being the keeper of it. In many a soul where distressing 
 doubts prevail, perhaps for years, yet the fear of God is in the 
 heart, so that it still cleaves to him and opposes sin.—(harder.) 
 
 9 Prayer must be by the aid of the Holy Spirit and the 
 understanding also. Faith makes it availing in the name of 
 
352 
 
 THE HOLY WAR 
 
 >!f! 
 
 sill 
 
 S 
 
 m 
 
 ’In 
 
 i 
 
 ■ id 
 
 3 
 
 again, that he knew also that the Lord Secretary 
 would not set his hand to any petition that himself 
 had not a hand in composing and drawing up; and 
 besides, said he, the Prince doth know my Lord 
 Secretary’s hand from all the hands in the world; 
 wherefore he cannot he deceived by any pretence 
 whatever; wherefore my advice is, that you go to 
 my Lord, and implore him to lend you his aid. 
 Now he did yet abide in the castle where all the 
 captains and men at arms were. 
 
 So they heartily thanked Mr. Godly-fear, took 
 his counsel, and did as he had hidden them; so 
 they went and came to my Lord, and made known 
 the cause of their coming to him, to wit, that since 
 Mansoul was in so deplorable a condition, his high¬ 
 ness would be pleased to undertake to draw up a pe¬ 
 tition for them to Emmanuel, the Son of the mighty 
 Shaddai, and to their King and his Father by him. 
 
 Then said the Secretary to them, What petition is 
 „ . it that you would have me draw up for 
 
 employed to you? But they said, Our Lord knows 
 tition for Man- best the state and condition of the town 
 80u1- of Mansoul; and how we are back¬ 
 
 slidden and degenerated from the Prince; thou also 
 knowest who is come up to war against us, and 
 how Mansoul is now the seat of war. * 1 My Lord 
 knows, moreover, what barbarous usages our men, 
 women, and children have suffered at their hands, 
 and how our home-bred Diabolonians do walk now 
 with more boldness than dare the townsmen in the 
 streets of Mansoul. Let our Lord, therefore, ac¬ 
 cording to the wisdom of God that is in him, draw 
 up a petition for his poor servants to our Prince 
 Emmanuel. Well, said the Lord Secretary, I will 
 draw up a petition for you, and will also set my hand 
 thereto. Then said they, But when shall we call 
 for it at the hands of our Lord ? hut he answered, 
 Yourselves must be present at the doing of it. 
 Yea, you must put your desires to it. True, the 
 hand and pen shall he mine, hut the ink and paper 
 must he yours, else how can you say it is your pe¬ 
 tition ? nor have I need to petition for myself, be¬ 
 cause I have not offended. 
 
 He also addeth as followeth, No petition goes 
 from me in my name to the Prince, and so to his 
 Father by him, hut when the people that are 
 chiefly concerned therein do join in heart and soul 
 in the matter, for that must be inserted therein. 2 
 
 Christ. See Banyan’s admirable treatise on ‘ Praying in the 
 Spirit,’ vol. i. p. 6.21.—(Ed.) 
 
 1 The Christian’s life is a warfare against the world, the 
 flesh, and the devil; but an evil heart of unbelief is that spirit¬ 
 ual Goliath which we should constantly intreat the Captain 
 of our salvation to subdue.—(Mason.) 
 
 2 This is an illustration of that text, * The Spirit hclpeth 
 cur infirmities, for we know not what we should pray for as 
 we ought.’ Bo. viii. 26. And blessed be God, c He will give 
 the Holy Spirit to them that ask him.’ Lu. xi. 13.—(Burder.) 
 
 3 * Now hell rageth, the devil warreth, and all the world 
 
 resolveth to do the best they can to bring the soul into bond- 
 
 The petition 
 drawn up and 
 sent to Em¬ 
 manuel by the 
 hand of Cap¬ 
 tain Credence. 
 
 So they did heartily agree with the sentence of 
 the Lord, and a petition was forthwith drawn up 
 for them. But now who should carry 
 it, that was next. But the Secretary 
 advised that Captain Credence should 
 carry it, for he was a well-spoken man. 
 
 They, therefore, called for him, and 
 propounded to him the business. Well, said the 
 captain, I gladly accept of the motion ; and though 
 I am lame, I will do this business for you with as 
 much speed, and as well as I can. 
 
 The contents of the petition were to this purpose— 
 
 ‘0 our Lord and Sovereign Prince Emmanuel, 
 the potent, the long-suffering Prince; Th e contents of 
 grace is poured into thy lips, and to tlieir petltlon * 
 thee belongs mercy and forgiveness, though we 
 have rebelled against thee. We who are no more 
 worthy to be called thy Mansoul, nor yet fit to 
 partake of common benefits, do beseech thee, and 
 thy Father by thee to do away our transgressions. 
 We confess that thou mightest cast us away for 
 them, but do it not for thy name’s sake; let the 
 Lord rather take an opportunity at our miserable 
 condition, to let out his bowels and compassions to 
 us; we are compassed on every side, Lord, our own 
 backslidings reprove us; our Diabolonians within 
 our town fright us, and the army of the angel of the 
 bottomless pit distresses us. Thy grace can he our 
 salvation, and whither to go hut to thee we know not. 
 
 ‘Furthermore, 0 gracious Prince, we have weak¬ 
 ened our captains, and they are discouraged, sick, 
 and of late some of them grievously worsted and 
 beaten out of the field by the power and force of 
 the tyrant. Yea, even those of our captains in 
 whose valour we did formerly use to put most of 
 our confidence, they are as wounded men. Besides, 
 Lord, our enemies are lively, and they are strong, 
 they vaunt and boast themselves, and do threaten 
 to part us among themselves for a booty. They 
 are fallen also upon us, Lord, with many thousand 
 Doubters, such as with whom we cannot tell what 
 to do; they are all grim-looked, and unmerciful 
 ones, and they bid defiance to us and tliee. 3 
 
 ‘ Our wisdom is gone, our power is gone, because 
 thou art departed from us, nor have we what we may 
 call ours but sin, shame, and confusion of face for 
 sin. 4 Take pity upon us, 0 Lord, take pity upon 
 us, thy miserable town of Mansoul, and save us out 
 of the hands of our enemies. Amen.’ 
 
 age and ruin. Also, the soul shall not want enemies in its 
 own heart’s lust—as covetousness, adultery, blasphemy, unbe¬ 
 lief, hardness of heart, coldness, ignorance; with an innumer¬ 
 able company of attendants hanging at its heels, ready to sink 
 it into the lire of hell every moment.’—Banyan’s Law and 
 Grace , vol. i. p. 546. Who can number bis thoughts; even 
 his evil thoughts, that, like legions, war against the soul’s 
 peace ?— (Ed.) 
 
 4 ‘ Which burden also did so oppress me, that I could neither 
 stand, nor go, nor lie, either at rest or quiet.’— Grace Abound¬ 
 ing y No. 165 .—(Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 S53 
 
 This petition as was touched afore, was handed 
 by the Lord Secretary, and carried to the court by 
 the brave and most stout Captain Credence. Now 
 he carried it out at Mouthgate, for that, as I said, 
 was the sally-port of the town ; and he went and 
 came to Emmanuel with it. Now how it came out, 
 I do not know, but for certain it did, and that so 
 far as to reach the ears of Diabolus. Thus I con¬ 
 clude, because that the tyrant had it presently by 
 the end, and charged the town of Mansoul with it, 
 saying, Thou rebellious and stubborn-hearted Man- 
 Satan cannot soul, I will make thee to leave oft 
 abide prayer, petitioning; art thou yet for petition¬ 
 ing ? I will make thee to leave. Yea, he also knew 
 who the messenger was that carried the petition 
 to the Prince, and it made him both to fear and 
 rage. 
 
 Wherefore he commanded that his drum should 
 be beat again, a thing that Mansoul could not 
 abide to hear; but when Diabolus will have his 
 drum beat, Mansoul must abide the noise. Well, 
 the drum was beat, and the Diabolonians were 
 gathered together. 
 
 Then said Diabolus, 0 ye stout Diabolonians, 
 be it known unto you that there is treachery 
 hatched against us in the rebellious town of Man¬ 
 soul ; for albeit the town is in our possession, as 
 you see, yet these miserable Mansoulians have at¬ 
 
 tempted to 
 send to the 
 give you to 
 to carry it 
 Wherefore', 
 
 Poor Mansoul. 
 
 your wiles, 
 
 dare, and have been so hardy as yet to 
 court to Emmanuel for help. This I 
 understand, that ye may yet know how 
 to the wretched town of Mansoul. 
 0 my trusty Diabolonians, I command 
 that yet more and more ye distress 
 this town of Mansoul, and vex it with 
 ravish their women, deflower their vir¬ 
 
 gins, slay their children, brain their ancients, fire 
 their town, and what other mischief you can; and 
 let this be the reward of the Mansoulians from me, 
 for their desperate rebellions against me. 1 
 
 This you see was the charge, but something 
 stepped in betwixt that and execution, for as yet 
 there was but little more done than to rage. 
 
 Moreover, when Diabolus had done thus, he went 
 the next way up to the castle-gates, and demanded 
 that, upon pain of death, the gates should be 
 opened to him, and that entrance should be given 
 him and his men that followed after. To whom 
 Mr. Godly-fear replied—for he it was that had the 
 
 ^ l iei \ temptations beset, sin invades, lusts rage, evil 
 tempers arise, and we are in danger of falling, then is the time 
 to look up and cry. Lord save, or I perish.—(Mason.) These 
 vexations are the holy thoughts and feelings, which Diabolus 
 ..nd hia crew prevent or suppress. This is explained in the 
 margin, p. 350.—(Ed.) 
 
 ' Alluding to the sufferings of Christian and Hopeful in 
 the dungeon ot Giant Despair, in Doubting Castle.—(to.) 
 
 • ''hen the shield of faith is wanting, the soul is exposed 
 to all the fiery darts of the wicked one. " ‘ This is the victory, 
 even our faith.’—(Mason.) 
 
 VUL. III. 
 
 Mr. Fooling. 
 
 charge of that gate—that the gate should not bo 
 opened unto him, nor to the men that followed 
 after him. lie said, moreover, that Mansoul, when 
 she had suffered awhile, should be made perfect, 
 strengthened, settled, l p e . v. 10 . 
 
 Then said Diabolus, Deliver me then the men 
 that have petitioned against me, espe- Satan cannot 
 cially Captain Credence that carried it abide 
 to your Prince; deliver that varlet into my hands, 
 and I will depart from the town. 
 
 Then up starts a Diabolonian, whose name was 
 Mr. Fooling, and said, My lord offer- 
 eth you fair, it is better for you that 
 one man perish, than that your whole Mansoul 
 should be undone. 
 
 But Mr. Godly-fear made him this replication. 
 How long will Mansoul be kept out of the dungeon, 2 
 when she hath given up her faith to Diabolus? As 
 good lose the town as lose Captain Credence; for 
 if one be gone, the other must follow. 3 But to 
 that Mr. Fooling said nothing. 
 
 O O 
 
 Then did my Lord Mayor reply, and said, 0 thou 
 devouring tyrant, be it known unto thee, we shall 
 hearken to none of thy words; we are resolved to 
 resist thee as long as a captain, a man, a sling, 
 and a stone to throw at thee, shall be found in the 
 town of Mansoul. But Diabolus answered, Do vo.u 
 hope, do you wait, do you look for help 
 and deliverance ? You have sent to DiaboIlu ra = eE - 
 Emmanuel, but your wickedness sticks too close in 
 your skirts, to let innocent prayers come out of your 
 lips. 4 Think you that you shall be prevailers and 
 prosper in this design? You will fail in your wish, 
 you will fail in your attempts; for it is not only I, 
 but your Emmanuel is against you. Fs. xiii. 10 . Yea, 
 it is he that hath sent me against you to subdue 
 you; for what then do you hope, or by what means 
 will you escape ? 
 
 r llien said the Lord Mayor, We have sinned in¬ 
 deed, but that shall be no help to thee, 
 for our Emmunuel hath said it, and 
 that in great faithfulness: ‘ And him 
 that cometli to me I will in no wise 
 cast out.’ He bath also told us, 0 
 our enemy, that all maimer of sin and blasphemy 
 shall be forgiven to the sons of men. Therefore 
 we dare not despair, but will look for, wait fqp, 
 and hope for deliverance still. 5 
 
 Now by this time Captain Credence was returned 
 and come from the court from Emmanuel to the 
 
 4 How true is this remark of the enemy of souls! Our 
 holiest services must be sanctified in the name of the Redeemer. 
 Diabolus can tell truth when it is to his purpose, iu distressing 
 a saint, or destroying a sinner.— (Ed.) 
 
 6 Portions of Scripture were the weapons with which our 
 Lord couquered Satan, when tempted in the wilderness. Poor 
 tried soul, you may rely with the most perfect confidence on 
 the Scriptures for support in the most trying hour. ‘ Though 
 it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come.’ Hah. ii. 3. 
 Any other support is hut like a broken reed.— (Ed.) 
 
 45 
 
 The Lord May¬ 
 or’s speech just 
 at the time of 
 the return of 
 Captain Cre¬ 
 dence. 
 
854 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 castle of Mansoul, and he returned to them with a 
 packet. So my Lord Mayor hearing that Captain 
 Credence was come, withdrew himself from the 
 noise of the roaring of the tyrant, and left him to 
 veil at the wall of the town, or against the gates 
 of the castle. So he came up to the captain’s 
 lodgings, and saluting him, he asked him of his 
 welfare, and what was the best news at court ? 
 But when he asked Captain Credence that, the 
 water stood in his eyes. Then said the captain, 
 Cheer up, my Lord, for all will be well in time; 
 and with that he first produced his packet, and laid 
 A sign of good- it by* but that ti ie Lord Mayo 1 * and the 
 
 nessk res t of the captains took for a sign of 
 good tidings. Now a season of grace being come, 
 he sent for all the captains and elders of the town 
 that were here and there in their lodgings in the 
 castle, and upon their guard, to let them know that 
 Captain Credence was returned from the court, and 
 that he had something in general, and something 
 in special to communicate to them. So they all 
 came up to him, and saluted him, and asked him 
 concerning his journey, and what was the best news 
 at the court ? And he answered them as he had 
 done the Lord Mayor before, that all would be well 
 at last. Now when the captain had thus saluted 
 The packet them, he opened his packet, and 
 
 opened. thence did draw out his several notes 
 for those that he had sent for. And the first note 
 was for my Lord Mayor, wherein was signified: 
 
 That the Prince Emmanuel had taken it well 
 A note for my that my Lord Mayor had been so true 
 Lord Mayor. an( j trusty in his office, and the great 
 concerns that lay upon him for the town and 
 people of Mansoul; also he bid him to know that 
 he took it well that he had been so bold for his 
 Prince Emmanuel, and had engaged so faithfully 
 in his cause against Diabolus. He also signified 
 at the close of his letter, that he should shortly 
 receive his reward. 
 
 The second note that came out was for the noble 
 f ov the Lord Will-be-will, wherein there was 
 Lord Will-be- signified, That his Prince Emmanuel 
 did well understand how valiant and 
 courageous he had been for the honour of his Lord, 
 now in his absence, and when his name was under 
 contempt by Diabolus. There was signified also 
 that his Prince had taken it well that he had been 
 so faithful to the town of Mansoul in his keeping 
 of so strict a hand and eye over, and so strict a 
 rein upon the necks of the Diabolonians that did 
 still lie lurking in their several holes in the famous 
 
 O 
 
 town of Mansoul. 
 
 lie signified, moreover, how that he understood 
 that my lord had with his own hand done great 
 execution upon some of the chief of the rebels 
 there, to the great discouragement of the adverse 
 party, and to the good example of the whole town 
 
 of Mansoul, and that shortly his lordship should 
 have his reward. 
 
 The third note came out for the subordinate 
 
 Preacher, wherein was signified, That A note for tlie 
 
 his Prince took it well from him that subordinate 
 
 x readier 
 
 he had so honestly and so faithfully 
 performed his office, and executed the trust com¬ 
 mitted to him by his Lord while he exhorted, re¬ 
 buked, and fore-warned Mansoul according to the 
 laws of the town. He signified moreover, that he 
 took well at his hand that he called to fasting, to 
 sackcloth and ashes, when Mansoul was under her 
 revolt. Also that he called for the aid of the Cap¬ 
 tain Boanerges to help in so weighty a work, and 
 that shortly he also should receive his reward. 
 
 The fourth note came out for Mr. Godly-fear 
 wherein his Lord thus signified, That ^ no t e for Mr. 
 his Lordship observed that he was the Godly-fear, 
 first of all the men in Mansoul that detected Mr. 
 Carnal-security, as the only one that through his 
 subtilty and cunning had obtained for Diabolus, a 
 defection and decay of goodness in the blessed town 
 of Mansoul. Moreover, his Lord gave him to un¬ 
 derstand that he still remembered his tears and 
 mourning for the state of Mansoul. It was also 
 observed by the same note, that his Lord took 
 notice of his detecting of this Mr. Carnal-security, 
 at his own table among his guests, in his own 
 house, and that in the midst of his jolliness, even 
 while he was seeking to perfect his villainies 
 against the town of Mansoul. Emmanuel also took 
 notice that this reverend person, Mr. Godly-fear, 
 stood stoutly to it at the gates of the castle, against 
 all the threats and attempts of the tyrant, and 
 that he had put the townsmen in a way to make 
 their petition to their Prince, so as that he might 
 accept thereof, and as that they might obtain an 
 answer of peace; and that therefore shortly he 
 should reeeive his reward. 
 
 After all this, there was yet produced a note 
 which was written to the whole town A note fov thc 
 of Mansoul, whereby they perceived town of Man- 
 that their Lord took notice of their so 
 often repeating of petitions to him, and that they 
 should see more of the fruits of such their doings 
 in time to come. Their Prince did also therein 
 tell them, That he took it well, that their heart 
 and mind now at last abode fixed upon him and 
 his ways, though Diabolus had made such inroads 
 upon them, and that neither flatteries on the one 
 hand, nor hardships on the other, could make them 
 yield to serve his cruel designs. There was also 
 inserted at the bottom of this note, That his Lord- 
 ship had left the town of Mansoul in the hands of 
 the Lord Secretary, and under the conduct of Cap¬ 
 tain Credence, saying, Beware that you yet yield 
 yourselves unto their governance, and in due time 
 you shall receive your reward. » 
 
r iIIE HOLY WAIL 
 
 355 
 
 So after the brave Captain Credence bad de- 
 „ , . _ livered his notes to those to whom 
 
 Captaiu Crc- . 
 
 deuce retires they belonged, lie retired himself to 
 to tlie Lord tjo < ’it* i 
 
 Secretary’s my Lord Secretary s lodgings, and 
 
 lodgings. there spends time in conversing with 
 him; for they two were very great one with another, 
 and did indeed know more how things would wo 
 with Mansoul than did all the townsmen besides. 
 The Lord Secretary also loved the Captain Cre¬ 
 dence dearly; yea, many a good bit was sent him 
 from my Lord’s table; also he might have a show 
 of countenance when the rest of Mansoul lay un¬ 
 der the clouds; so after some time for converse was 
 spent the Captain betook himself to his chambers 
 to rest. But it was not long after but my Lord did 
 send for the captain again. So the captain came 
 to him, and they greeted one another with usual 
 salutations. Then said the captain to the Lord 
 Secretary, What hath my Lord to say to his ser¬ 
 vant ? So the Lord Secretary took him, and had 
 him a-to-side, 1 and after a sign or two of more 
 c favour, he said, I have made thee the 
 ^den^inadetLe Lord’s lieutenant over all the forces in 
 
 ant over au the Mansoul, so that from this day for- 
 
 forces iu Mau- ward, all men in Mansoul shall be at 
 soul. 
 
 thy word, and thou shalt be he that 
 shall lead in, and that shalt lead out Mansoul. 
 Thou shalt therefore manage, according to thy 
 place, the war for thy Prince, and for the town of 
 Mansoul, against the force and power of Diabolus, 
 and at thy command shall the rest of the captains 
 be. 
 
 Now the townsmen began to perceive what in¬ 
 terest the captain had, both with the court, and 
 also with the Lord Secretary in Mansoul; for no 
 man before could speed when sent, nor bring such 
 good news from Emmanuel as he. Wherefore what 
 do they, after some lamentation that they made no 
 more use of him in their distresses, but send by 
 their subordinate Preacher to the Lord Secretary, 
 to desire him that all that ever they were and had, 
 might be put under the government, care, custody, 
 and conduct of Captain Credence. 2 
 
 So their preacher went and did his errand, and 
 ^ received this answer from the mouth 
 
 M unsoul craves of his Lord, that Captain Credence 
 under * thereon- should he the great doer in all the 
 Crudence aptam King’s army, against the King’s ene¬ 
 mies, and also for the welfare of Man¬ 
 soul. So h§ bowed to the ground, and thanked his 
 Lordship, and returned and told his news to the 
 townsfolk. But all this was done with all ima&in- 
 
 1 * A-to-side,’ obsolete, aside, iu private, or out of hearing. 
 “(Ed.) 
 
 The design of this is to show that the soul is to live by 
 faith, and not by sense. The Spirit of God puts honour upon 
 faith, and makes him chief-captain of the town. This is a 
 prelude to victory over the Doubters.—(Burder.) 
 
 able secrecy, because the foes had yet great 
 strength in the town. But, to return to our story 
 
 again: 
 
 O 
 
 Diabolus rages. 
 
 [Chapter XVI.] 
 
 [Contents :—A new plot is laid to ruin the town by riches 
 and prosperity—Emmanuel, according to his promise, 
 appears in the field, to assist the forces of Mansoul, 
 whereby the whole army of Doubters is completely routed 
 —Emmanuel enters the town amidst the joyful acclama¬ 
 tions of the inhabitants.] 
 
 When Diabolus saw himself thus boldly con¬ 
 fronted by the Lord Mayor, and perceived the 
 stoutness of Mr. Godly-fear, he fell 
 into a rage, and forthwith called a 
 council of war, that he might be revenged on Man¬ 
 soul. So all the princes of the pit came together, 
 and old Incredulity in the head of them, with all 
 the captains of his army. So they consult what 
 to do. Now the effect and conclusion of the council 
 that day, was how they might take the castle; be¬ 
 cause they could not conclude themselves masters 
 of the town, so long as that was in the possession of 
 their enemies. So one advised this way, and another 
 advised that; but when they could not agree in 
 their verdict, Apollyon, that president of the coun¬ 
 cil, stood up, and thus he began: My brotherhood, 
 quoth he, I have two things to propound unto you; 
 and my first is this; let us withdraw ourselves from 
 the town into the plain again, for our presence 
 here will do us no good, because the castle is yet 
 in our enemy’s hands; nor is it possible that we 
 should take that so long as so many brave captains 
 are in it, and that this bold fellow Godly-fear is 
 made the keeper of the gates of it. 
 
 Now when we have withdrawn ourselves into the 
 plain, they, of their own accord, will be glad of 
 some little ease; and it may be, of their own ac¬ 
 cord, they again may begin to be remiss; 3 and even 
 their so being, will give them a bigger Look to it, Man- 
 blow than we can possibly give them soul - 
 ourselves. But if that should fail, our going forth 
 of the town may draw the captains out after us, 
 and you know what it cost them, when we fought 
 them in the field before. Besides, can we but draw 
 them out into the field, we may lay an ambush be¬ 
 hind the town, which shall, when they are come 
 forth abroad, rush in, and take possession of the 
 castle. But Beelzebub stood up, and replied, 
 saying, It is impossible to draw them all off from 
 the castle; some you may be sure will lie there to 
 keep that; wherefore it will be but in vain thus to 
 attempt, unless we were sure that they will all come 
 out. He therefore concluded that what was done, 
 must be done by some other means. And the most 
 
 3 A state of spiritual ease and prosperity has its dangers; 
 we must, by the Word and Spirit, in the strength of Jesus, 
 fight every inch of our way to heaven and glory.—(Mason.) 
 
THE HOLY WAT?. 
 
 3H6 
 
 likelv means tliat the greatest of their heads could 
 invent, was that which Apollyon had advised to 
 Look to it, Man- before, to wit, to get the townsmen 
 souk again to sin. For, said he, it is not 
 our being in the town, nor in the field, nor our fight¬ 
 ing, nor our killing of their men, that can make us 
 the masters of Mansoul; for so lon^ as one in the 
 town is able to lift up his finger against us, Em¬ 
 manuel will take their parts; and if he shall take 
 their parts, we know what time a-day, it -will he 
 with us . 1 Wherefore, for my part, quoth he, there 
 is, in my judgment, no way to bring them into 
 bondage to us, like inventing a way to make them 
 sin. 2 Pe. ii. I8-21. Had we, said he, left all our 
 Doubters at home, we had done as well as we have 
 done now, unless we could have made them the 
 masters and governors of the castle; for Doubters 
 Look to it,Man- a distance, are but like objections 
 s oui. refelled with arguments. Indeed can 
 we but get them into the hold, and make them 
 possessors of that, the day will be our own. Let 
 us therefore withdraw ourselves into the plain (not 
 expecting that the captains in Mansoul should 
 follow us), but yet, I say, let us do this, and before 
 we so do, let us advise again with our trusty Dia- 
 bolonians that are yet in their holds of Mansoul, 
 and set them to work to betray the town to us; 
 for they indeed must do it, or it will be left undone 
 for ever. By these sayings of Beelzebub—for I 
 think it was he that gave this counsel—the whole 
 Look to it, conclave was forced to be of his opinion, 
 Mansoul. w it, that the way to get the castle was 
 to get the town to sin. Then they fell to invent¬ 
 ing by what means to do this thing . 2 
 
 Then Lucifer stood up and said, The counsel 
 of Beelzebub is pertinent; now the way to bring 
 this to pass, in mine opinion, is this: Let us with¬ 
 draw our force from the town of Mansoul, let us do 
 this and let us terrify them no more, either with 
 summons or threats, or with the noise of our drum, 
 or any other awakening means. Only let us lie in 
 the field at a distance, and be as if we regarded 
 them not; for frights I see do but awaken them, 
 and make them stand more to their arms. I have 
 also another stratagem in my head: You know 
 Mansoul is a market town; and a town that de¬ 
 lights in commerce; what therefore if some of our 
 Diabolonians shall feign themselves far country¬ 
 men, and shall go out and bring to the market of 
 Mansoul some of our wares to sell; and what matter 
 at what rates they sell their wares, though it be 
 
 - 1 ‘ Satan trembles when he sees 
 
 The meanest saint upon his knees.’ 
 
 2 The great object of Satan is to allure Mansoul to sin. 
 He can never win the heart, or castle, unless sin opens the 
 gates.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 ‘ Penny-wise and pound-foolish ’ is a well-known proverb, 
 showing the folly of those who lose a pound to gain a penny. 
 
 ‘ Get i’ th’ hundred and lose i’ th’ shire ’ is an obsolete proverb, 
 
 but for half the worth. How, let those that thus 
 shall trade in their market, be those that are witty 
 and true to us, and I will lay my crown to pawn it 
 will do. There are two that are come to my 
 thoughts already, that I think will be arch at this 
 work, and they are Mr. Penny-wise-pound-foolish, 
 and Mr. Get-i’th’-hundred-and-lose-i’tli’-shire ; 3 
 nor is this man with the long name at all inferior 
 to the other. What also if you join with them Mr. 
 Sweet-world, and Mr. Present-good; they are men 
 that are civil and cunning, but our true 
 friends and helpers. Let these with 
 as many more engage in this business for us, and 
 let Mansoul be taken up in much business, and let 
 them grow full and rich, and this is the way to get 
 ground of them; remember ye not that thus wo 
 prevailed upon Laodicea, and how many at present 
 do we hold in this snare ? Re. iii. 17. Now when they 
 begin to grow full, they will forget their misery, 
 and if we shall not affright them they 
 may happen to fall asleep, and so be 
 got to neglect their town-watch, their castle-watch, 
 as well as their watch at the gates. 
 
 Yea, may we not by this means so cumber Man¬ 
 soul with abundance, that they shall be forced to 
 make of their castle a warehouse instead of a gar¬ 
 rison fortified against us, and a receptacle for men 
 of war . 4 Thus if we get our goods, and commo¬ 
 dities thither, I reckon that the castle is more than 
 half ours. Besides, could we so order it, that it 
 should be filled with such kind of wares, then if we 
 made a sudden assault upon them, it would be 
 hard for the captains to take shelter there.' Do 
 you know that of the parable. The deceitfulness 
 of riches choke the word. Lu. viii. 14. And again. 
 When the heart is overcharged with surfeiting and 
 drunkenness, and the cares of this life, all mischief 
 comes upon them at unawares. Lu. xxi. 34-36. 
 
 Furthermore, my lords, quoth he, you very well 
 know that it is not easy for a people to be filled 
 with our things, and not to have some of our Dia¬ 
 bolonians as retainers to their houses and services. 
 Where is a Mansoulian that is full of this world, 
 that has not for his servants, and waiting-men, 
 Mr. Profuse, or Mr. Prodigality, or some other of 
 our Diabolonian gang, as Mr. Voluptuous, Mr. 
 Pragmatical, Mr. Ostentation, or the like ? Now 
 these can take the castle of Mansoul, or blow it up, 
 or make it unfit for a garrison for Em- Look toit Man . 
 rnanuel; and any of these will do. , souL 
 Yea, these, for aught I know, may do it for us 
 sooner than an army of twenty thousand men. 
 
 meaning that as a shire or county contains many divisions 
 called hundreds, it would be foolish to lose a county for the 
 sake of gaining a small part of a county called a hundred.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 4 Great is the danger when the heart, here called the 
 castle, which should be the temple of the Lord, is turned into 
 a warehouse.—burder. 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 357 
 
 Wherefore, to end as I began, my advice is, that 
 we quietly withdraw ourselves, not offering any 
 further force, or forcible attempts upon the castle, 
 at least at this time, and let us set on foot our new 
 project, and lets see if that will not make them 
 destroy themselves. 1 
 
 This advice was highly applauded by them all, 
 and v r as accounted the very master-piece of hell; 
 to wit, to choke Mansoul with a fulness of this 
 world, and to surfeit her heart with the good things 
 thereof. But see how things meet to¬ 
 gether; just as this Diabolonian coun- 
 
 lienee 1 receives cil was broken U P> Captain Credence 
 that from his received a letter from Emmanuel, the 
 
 PriDC6 which 7 
 
 he understand- contents of which was this, That upon 
 the third day he would meet him in 
 the field in the plains about Mansoul. Meet me in 
 the field! quoth the captain, what meaneth my 
 Lord by this ? I know not what he meaneth by 
 meeting of me in the field. So he took the note 
 in his hand, and did carry it to my Lord Secretary, 
 to ask his thoughts thereupon; for my Lord was a 
 seer in all matters concerning the King, and also 
 for the good and comfort of the town of Mansoul. 
 So he showed my Lord the note, and desired his 
 opinion thereof: for my part, quoth Captain Cre¬ 
 dence, I know not the meaning thereof. So my 
 Lord did take and read it, and after a little pause he 
 said, The Diabolonians have had against Mansoul 
 a great consultation to-day; they have, I say, this 
 day been contriving the utter ruin of the town; and 
 the result of their council is, to set Mansoul into 
 such a way, which, if taken, will surely make her 
 destroy herself. And to this end they are making 
 ready for their own departure out of the town, in¬ 
 tending to betake themselves to the field ao’ain, 
 and there to lie till they shall see whether this their 
 project will take or no. But be thou ready, with 
 the men of thy Lord, for on the third day they will 
 be in the plain; there to fall upon the Diabolonians; 
 for the Prince will by that time be in the field; 
 The riddle ex- yea, by that it is break of day, sun- 
 Captain Cre- risin g> or before, and that with a 
 deuce. mighty force against them. So he 
 
 shall be before them, and thou shalt be behind 
 them, and betwixt you both their army shall be 
 destroyed. 
 
 M hen Captain Credence heard this, away goes 
 he to the rest of the captains, and tells them what 
 
 The captains are a n ° te lie lia(1 a while since received 
 
 Ridded to from the hand of Emmanuel. And, 
 said he, that which was dark therein, 
 has my Lord, the Lord Secretary, expounded unto 
 
 1 Well may Bunyan say, ‘Look to it, Mansoul!’ How 
 rare!) do men grow rich and prosperous without entertaining 
 these Diabolonians — profusion, prodigality, pride, &c.l These 
 are more destructive to the soul than an army of external foes. 
 —(Burder.) 
 
 me. He- told them moreover, what by himself, 
 and by them, must be done to answer the mind of 
 their Lord. Then were the captains glad, and 
 Captain Credence commanded that all 
 the King’s trumpeters should ascend 3 * by^the 
 
 to the battlements of the castle, and trum P eters - 
 there in the audience of Diabolus, and of the whole 
 town of Mansoul, make the best music that heart 
 could invent. The trumpeters then did as they 
 were commanded. They got themselves up to the 
 top of the castle, and thus they began to sound; 
 then did Diabolus start, and said, What can be the 
 meaning of this, they neither sound boot and saddle, 
 nor horse and away, nor a charge ? What do these 
 mad men mean, that yet they should be so merry 
 and glad ? Then answered him one of themselves 
 and said, This is for joy that their Prince Emmanuel 
 is coming to relieve the town of Mansoul; that to 
 this end he is at the head of an army, and that this 
 relief is near. 
 
 The men of Mansoul also were greatly concerned 
 at this melodious charm of the trumpets. They 
 said, yea, they answered one another, saying, This 
 can be no harm to us; surely this can be no harm 
 to us. Then said the Diabolonians, T ,. . . 
 
 txti ... , 7 Diabolus with- 
 
 What had we best to do ? And it was draws from the 
 answered, 11 was best to quit the town; tow n ’ dlld why ’ 
 and that, said one, Ye may do in pursuance of your 
 last council, and by so doing, also be better able 
 to give the enemy battle, should an army from 
 without come upon us. So on the second day they 
 withdrew themselves from Mansoul, and abode in 
 the plains without; but they encamped themselves 
 before Eyegate,inwhat terrene and terrible 2 manner 
 they could. The reason why they would not abide 
 in the town, besides the reasons that were debated 
 in their late conclave, was, for that they were not 
 possessed of the stronghold, and because, said 
 they, we shall have more convenience to fight, and 
 also to fly, if need be, when we are encamped in the 
 open plains. Besides, the town would have been a 
 pit for them rather than a place of defence, had the 
 Prince come up, and enclosed them fast therein. 
 Therefore they betook themselves to the field, that 
 they might also be out of the reach of the slings, 3 
 by which they were much annoyed all the while 
 that they were in the town. 
 
 Well, the time that the captains were to fall 
 upon the Diabolonians beino* come, 
 
 0 7 The time come 
 
 they eagerly prepared themselves for for the captains 
 
 action; for Captain Credence had to llghtl thein ' 
 told the captains over night that they should meet 
 their Prince in the field to-morrow. This there¬ 
 fore made them yet far more desirous to be engag¬ 
 ing the enemy, for, You shall see the Prince in the 
 
 2 * Terrene and terrible,’ dreadful to mortals.—(E d.) 
 
 3 Portions from the Bible, probably meaning the epistles 
 
 of the New Testament.—(E d.) 
 
358 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 field to-morrow, was like oil to a flaming Are; for 
 of a long time they had been at a distance, they 
 therefore were for this the more earnest and 
 desirous of the work. So, as I said, the hour 
 being come, Captain Credence, with the rest of 
 They draw out the men of war, drew out their forces 
 into the field, before it were day by the sally-port of 
 tiie town. And being all ready, Captain Credence 
 went up to the head of the army, and gave to the 
 rest of the captains the word, and so they to their 
 under-officers and soldiers. The word 
 fhe W0ld ' was, The sword of the Prince Em¬ 
 manuel, and the shield of Captain Credence, which 
 is, in the Mansoulian tongue, The word of God and 
 faith. Then the captains fell on, and began roundly 
 to front, and flank, and rear Diabolus’s camp. 1 
 
 Now they left Captain Experience in the town, 
 because he was yet ill of his wounds which the 
 
 Captain Expe- Eiabolonians had given him in the 
 
 rience will fi>;ht ] as t fight. But when he perceived 
 tor Ins Prince , . 1 . 1 
 
 upon nis that the captains were at it, what 
 does he, but, calling for his crutches 
 with haste, gets up, and away he goes to the 
 battle, saying, Shall I lie here when my brethren 
 are in the fight? and when Emmanuel the Prince 
 will show himself in the field to his servants? But 
 when the enemy saw the man come with his 
 crutches, they were daunted yet the more; for, 
 thought they, what spirit has possessed these 
 Mansoulians that they fight us upon their crutches! 
 Well, the captains, as I said, fell on, and did 
 bravely handle their weapons, still crying out and 
 shouting, as they laid on blows, The sword of the 
 Prince Emmanuel, and the shield of Captain 
 Credence. 2 
 
 Now when Diabolus saw that the captains were 
 come out and that so valiantly they surrounded his 
 men, he concluded, that for the present, nothing 
 from them was to be looked for but blows, and the 
 dints 3 of their two-edged sword. 
 
 Wherefore he also falls on upon the Prince’s 
 army with all his deadly force. So the battle was 
 joined. Now who was it that at first 
 Diabolus met with in the fight, but 
 Captain Credence on the one hand, and the Lord 
 Wiii-be-wiii Will-be-will on the other; now Will- 
 engaged. be-will’s blows were like the blows of 
 
 a giant, for that man had a strong arm, and he 
 fell in upon the Election-doubters—for they were 
 the life guard of Diabolus—and he kept them in 
 play a good while, cutting and battering shrewdly. 
 Credence Now when Captain Credence saw my 
 Lord engaged, he did stoutly fall on, 
 
 The battle joined. 
 
 engaged. 
 
 1 How heartily, or, as Bunyan says, ‘ roundly/ can we fight 
 our implacable foes, when thus armed with ‘the Word of God, 
 the sword of Emmanuel, and faith’—the shield of Credence! 
 These are invincible weapons when the Holy Spirit enables us 
 to use them.— (Ed.) 
 
 on the other hand, upon the same company, also; 
 so they put them to great disorder. 4 Now Cap¬ 
 tain Goodhope had engaged the Yoca- Goodhope 
 tion-doubters, and they were sturdy engaged, 
 men, but the captain was a valiant man. Captain 
 Experience did also send him some aid, so he made 
 the Vocation-doubters to retreat. The rest of the 
 armies were hotly engaged, and that on every side, 
 and the Diabolonians did fight stoutly. Then did my 
 Lord Secretary command that the slings from the 
 castle should be played, and his men The Lord Secre- 
 could throw stones at an hair’s breadth. tar y ell g a s ed - 
 But after a while, those that were made to flv 
 before the captains of the Prince did begin to rally 
 again, and they came up stoutly upon The battle 
 the rear of the Prince’s army, where- renewed, 
 fore the Prince’s army began to faint, but remem¬ 
 bering that they should see the face of their Prince 
 by and by, they took courage, and a very fierce 
 battle was fought. Then shouted the captains, 
 saying, The sword of the Prince Em¬ 
 manuel and the shield of Captain Cre- A fierce 
 dence, and with that Diabolus gave back, thinking 
 that more aid had been come. But no Emmanuel 
 as yet appeared; moreover, the battle did hang in 
 doubt, and they made a little retreat 
 on both sides. Now, in the time of 
 respite, Captain Credence bravely en¬ 
 couraged his men to stand to it, and 
 Diabolus did the like as well as he 
 could. But Captain Credence made a brave speech 
 to his soldiers, the contents whereof here follow— 
 Gentlemen soldiers, and my brethren in this 
 design, it rejoiceth me much to see in the field for 
 our Prince this day, so stout and so valiant an 
 army, and such faithful lovers of Mansoul. You 
 have hitherto, as hath become you, shown your¬ 
 selves men of truth and courage against the Dia- 
 
 o o 
 
 They both retreat, 
 and, in the time 
 of respite, Cap¬ 
 tain Credence 
 makes a speech 
 to his soldiers. 
 
 bolonian forces, so that, for all their boast, they 
 have not yet much cause to boast of their gettings. 
 Now take to yourselves your wonted courage, and 
 show yourselves men even this once only, for in a 
 few minutes after the next engagement this time, 
 you shall see your Prince show himself in the field, 
 for we must make this second assault upon this 
 tyrant Diabolus, and then Emmanuel comes. 
 
 No sooner had the captain made this speech to 
 his soldiers, but one Mr. Speedy came post to the 
 captain from the Prince, to tell him that Em¬ 
 manuel was at hand. This news, when the cap¬ 
 tain had received, he communicated to the other 
 field-officers, and they again to their soldiers and 
 
 2 ‘ Kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation.’ 
 1 Pe. i. 5 .—(Ed.) 
 
 3 * Dints/ blows or strokes.—(E d.) 
 
 4 Election-doubters are the devil’s life-guard. When the 
 will, strengthened by faith, attacks them, they are put into 
 disorder, but not destroyed. These doubts are first attacked, 
 for until they are routed the soul has no peace.— (Ed.) 
 
THE ITOLY WAR. 
 
 359 
 
 men of war. Wherefore, like men raised from the 
 dead, so the captains and their men arose, made 
 up to the enemy, and cried as before, The sword 
 of the Prince Emmanuel, and the shield of Captain 
 Credence.- 
 
 The Diabolonians also bestirred themselves and 
 made resistance as well as they could, but in this 
 last engagement the Diabolonians lost their courage, 
 and many of the Doubters fell down dead to the 
 ground. Now when they had been in heat of 
 battle about an hour or more, Captain Credence 
 lift up his eyes and saw, and behold Emmanuel 
 came, and he came with colours flying, trumpets 
 sounding, and the feet of his men scarce touched 
 the ground, they hasted with that celerity towards 
 
 When the enemy the captains that were engaged, 
 is betwixt cimst Then did Credence wind with his 
 
 and faith, then , . 
 
 down they go to men to the townward, and gave to 
 
 be sure. Diabolus the field. So Emmanuel 
 
 came upon him on the one side, and the enemies 
 
 place was betwixt them both, then again they fell 
 
 to it afresh, and now it was but a little while more 
 
 but Emmanuel and Captain Credence met, still 
 
 trampling down the slain as they came. 
 
 But when the captains saw that the Prince was 
 come, and that lie fell upon the Diabolonians on 
 the other side, and that Captain Credence and his 
 Highness had got them up betwixt them, they 
 shouted, they so shouted that the ground rent 
 again, saying, The sword of Emmanuel and the 
 shield of Captain Credence. Now when Diabolus 
 saw that he and his forces were so hard beset by 
 the Prince and his princely army, what does he, 
 and the lords of the pit that were with him, but 
 The victory falls make their escape and foresake their 
 
 aidtohismeil; army, and leave them to fall by the 
 who slay all. Rand of Emmanuel, and of his noble 
 
 Captain Credence; so they fell all down slain 
 before them, before the Prince, and before his 
 royal army; there was not left so much as one 
 doubter alive, they lay spread upon the ground 
 dead men, as one would spread dung upon the 
 land. 1 
 
 When the battle was over all things came into 
 order in the camp; then the captains and elders of 
 Mansoul came together to salute Emmanuel, while 
 without the corporation ; so they saluted him and 
 welcomed him, and that with a thousand welcomes, 
 
 Mansoul salutes Son s viii - b for that he was come to the 
 tbe Prince with- borders of Mansoul again; so he smiled 
 
 outj he addresses . D , 
 
 himseiito go into upon them and said, Peace be to you, 
 
 [Jn, xa. 19 .] Then they addressed them- 
 
 the town. 
 
 1 The presence of the Lord decides the contest. Doubts 
 and fears cannot stand before the gracious manifestation of 
 himself to the soul. 
 
 * But if Emmanuel’s face appear. 
 
 My hope, my joy begins; 
 
 His name forbids my slavish fear, 
 
 His grace removes my sins.’—(Punier.) 
 
 selves to go to the town, they went then to go up 
 to Mansoul, they, the Prince, with all the new 
 forces that now he had brought with him to the 
 war. Also all the gates of the town were set open 
 for his reception, so glad were they of his blessed 
 return. And this was the manner and order of 
 this going of his into Mansoul. 
 
 First, as I said, all the gates of the town were 
 set open, yea the gates of the castle also ; the 
 elders too of the tow T n of Mansoul placed them¬ 
 selves at the gates of the town to salute him at 
 his entrance thither ; and so they did, The manner of 
 for as he drew near and approached his going in> 
 towards the gates, they said, ‘ Lift up your heads, 
 0 ye gates ; and he ye lift up, ye everlasting doors; 
 and the King of glory shall come in.’ And they 
 answered again, ‘Who is the King of glory?’ 
 and thej' - made return to themselves, ‘ The Lord 
 strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. 
 Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates; even lift them up 
 ye everlasting doors.’ Ps. xxiv. 7-9. 
 
 Secondly, It was ordered also by those of Man¬ 
 soul, that all the way from the town-gates to those 
 of the castle, his blessed Majesty should be enter¬ 
 tained with the song, by them that had could best 
 skill in music in all the town of Mansoul; then did 
 the elders and the rest of the men of Mansoul 
 answer one another as Emmanuel entered the 
 town, till he came at the castle-gates, with songs 
 and sound of trumpets, saying, ‘ They have seen 
 thy goings, 0 God, even the goings of my God, 
 my King, in the sanctuary.’ So ‘the singers 
 went before, the players on instruments followed 
 after; among them were the damsels playing with 
 timbrels.’ Ps. lxviii. 25. 
 
 Thirdly, Then the captains—for I would speak 
 a word of them—they in their order waited on 
 the Prince as he entered into the gates of Man- 
 soul. Captain Credence went before, and Cap¬ 
 tain Goodhope with him; Captain Charity came 
 behind with other of his companions, and Captain 
 Patience followed after all, and the rest of the 
 captains—some on the right hand, some on the left 
 —accompanied Emmanuel into Mansoul. And all 
 the while the colours were displayed, the trumpets 
 sounded, and continual shoutings were among the 
 soldiers. The Prince himself rode into the town in 
 his armour, which was all of beaten gold, and in 
 his chariot, the pillars of it were of silver, the 
 bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it was of 
 purple, the midst thereof being paved with love 
 for the daughters of the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Fourthly, When the Prince was come to the. 
 entrance of Mansoul, he found all the streets 
 strewed with lilies and flowers, curiously decked 
 with houghs and branches from the Good and joyful 
 green trees that stood round about thoughts, 
 the town. Every door also was tilled with persons 
 
TIIE HOLY WAR. 
 
 SCO 
 
 I 
 
 who had adorned every one their fore-part against 
 their house, with something of variety and singular 
 excellency to entertain him withall as he passed in 
 the streets; they also themselves, as Emmanuel 
 passed by, did welcome him with shouts and ac¬ 
 clamations of joy, saying, Blessed he the Prince 
 that cometh in the name of his Father Shaddai. 1 
 
 Fifthly, At the castle-gates the elders of Man- 
 soul, to wit, the Lord Mayor, the Lord Will-be- 
 will, the subordinate Preacher, Mr. Knowledge, 
 Mr. Mind, with other of the gentry of the place, 
 saluted Emmanuel again. They bowed before 
 him, they kissed the dust of his feet, they thanked, 
 they blessed, and praised his Highness for not 
 taking advantage against them for their sins, but 
 rather had pity upon them in their misery, and 
 returned to them with mercies, and to build up 
 their Mansoul for ever. Thus was he had up 
 straightway to the castle; for that was the royal 
 palace, and the place where his honour was to 
 dwell; the which was ready prepared for his 
 Highness by the presence of the Lord Secretary 
 and the work of Captain Credence. 2 So he entered 
 in. 
 
 Sixthly, Then the people and commonalty of 
 the town of Mansoul came to him into the castle 
 to mourn, and to weep, and to lament for their 
 wickedness by which they had forced him out of 
 the town. So they, when they were come, bowed 
 themselves to the ground seven times, they also 
 wept, they wept aloud, and asked forgiveness of 
 the Prince, and prayed that he would again, as 
 of old, confirm his love to Mansoul. 
 
 To the wdiich the great Prince replied, Weep 
 not, but ‘ go your way, eat the fat and drink the 
 sweet, and send portions unto them for whom 
 nought is prepared - for the joy of the Lord is 
 your strength.’ Ne. viiL 10 . I am returned to 
 Mansoul with mercies, and my name shall be set 
 up, exalted, and magnified by it. He also took 
 these inhabitants and kissed them, and laid them 
 in his bosom. 
 
 Moreover, he gave to the elders of Mansoul, and 
 to each town-officer, a chain of gold 
 of and a signet. He also sent to their 
 wives, ear-rings, and jewels, and 
 v ,. bracelets, and other things. He also 
 der holy bestowed upon the true-born children 
 of Mansoul many precious things. 
 
 The holy con¬ 
 ceptions 
 Mansoul. 
 
 1 How gladly is Jesus received 1 None but those who 
 have experienced it can tell how delightful and welcome is his 
 presence to the soul that has long been vexed with an army of 
 doubts. 0 let us beware of sin and unbelief, which caused 
 him to withdraw and the doubts to enter. Well may the soul 
 be humbled in the dust in the recollection of its backsliding. 
 —(Burder.) Strewing the streets with flowers, and decorating 
 the fronts of the houses, was customary, in Runyan’s time, in 
 all royal processions.—(E d.) 
 
 “ * Giving them the Holy Ghost; - purifying their hearts 
 by faith.’ Ac. xv. 8, 9 .-—(Ed.) 
 
 When Emmanuel the Prince bad done all these 
 things for the famous town of Mansoul, then he 
 said unto them, first. Wash your garments, then 
 put on your ornaments, and then come to me into 
 the castle of Mansoul. Ex. ix. 8. So they went to 
 the fountain that was set open for Judah and Jer¬ 
 usalem to wash in, Zee. xiii. ], and there they washed, 
 and there they made their garments white, and 
 came again to the Prince into the castle, and thus 
 they stood before him. Re. vii. 14,15. 
 
 And now there was music and dancing; through- 
 out the whole town of Mansoul, and that because 
 their Prince had again granted to them his pre¬ 
 sence and the light of his countenance, the hells 
 also did ring, and the sun shone comfortably upon 
 them for a great while together. 3 4 
 
 The town of Mansoul did also now more throughly 
 seek the destruction and ruin of all remainino* Dia- 
 
 O 
 
 bolonians that abode in the walls and the dens that 
 they had in the town of Mansoul, for there was of 
 them that had to this day escaped with life and 
 limb from the hand of their suppressors in the 
 famous town of Mansoul. 5 6 
 
 But my Lord Will-be-will was a greater terror 
 
 to them now than ever he had been 
 1 n i . Will-be-will n 
 
 before ; forasmuch as his heart was greater terror to 
 
 yet more fully bent to seek, contrive, iow^antehad 
 
 and pursue them to the death; he ,)een in- former 
 
 pursued them night and day, and did 
 
 put them now to sore distress, as will afterwards 
 
 appear. 
 
 After things were thus far put into order in the 
 famous town of Mansoul, care was taken and order 
 given by the blessed Prince Emmanuel, that the 
 townsmen should, without further delay, appoint 
 some to go forth into the plain to burv n i 
 
 ° 1 « Orders given out 
 
 the dead that were there — the dead to bury the 
 
 that fell by the sword of Emmanuel dt 
 
 and by the shield of the Captain Credence—lest. 
 
 the fumes and ill savours that would arise from 
 
 them might infect the air, and so annoy the famous 
 
 town of Mansoul. This also was a reason of this 
 
 order, to wit, that as much as in Mansoul lay, they 
 
 might cut off the name, and being, and remembrance 
 
 of those enemies from the thought of the famous 
 
 town of Mansoul and its inhabitants. 
 
 So order was given out by the Lord Mayor— 
 that wise and trusty friend of the town of Mansoul 
 —that persons should be employed about tliis 
 
 3 The side notes are Runyan’s key to the text, which, he 
 says, 
 
 * Lietb there in the window.’ 
 
 See last lines of his address ‘ To the Reader.’—(E d.) 
 
 4 Though comforts are cheering, let npt the believer rest in 
 
 them, neither be high-minded, but fear; looking to Jesus for 
 strength and grace to persevere.—(Mason.) 
 
 6 ‘ The joy of the Lord is our strength.’ When this is 
 possessed, there will be a double diligence iu searching out 
 and destroying pur sins.—(Binder.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 3G1 
 
 necessary business;.and Mr; Godly-fear and one Mr. 
 Upright were to be overseers about this matter; so 
 persons were put under them to work in the fields 
 and to bury the slain that lay dead in the plains. 
 And these were their places of employment—some 
 were to make the graves, some to bury the dead, 
 and some were to go to and fro in the plains, and 
 also round about the borders of Mansoul, to see if 
 
 Not a skull, or a a sku11 ’ 0r a bone > or a of a 
 
 bone or a piece bone of a Doubter was vet to be 
 oi a bone of a . J 
 
 Doubter to be left seen above ground anywhere near 
 unburied. .1 „ ,• i •/> 
 
 the corporation; ana if any were 
 found, it was ordered that the searchers that 
 searched should set up a mark thereby, and a 
 sign, that those that were appointed to bury them 
 might find it, and bury it out of sight, that the 
 name and remembrance of a Diabolonian Doubter 
 might be blotted out from under heaven. And 
 that the children, and they that were to be born 
 in Mansoul, might not know, if possible, what a 
 skull, what a bone, or a piece of a bone of a 
 Doubter was. 
 
 So the buriers, and those that were appointed 
 for that purpose, did as they were commanded, 
 they buried the Doubters, and all the skulls and 
 bones, and pieces of bones of Doubters wherever 
 they found them, and so they cleansed the plains. 
 Now also Mr. God’s-peace took up his commission 
 and acted again as in former days. 
 
 Thus they buried, in the plains about Mansoul, 
 the Election-doubters, the Vocation-doubters, the 
 Grace-doubters, the Perseverance-doubters, the 
 Resurrection-doubters, the Salvation-doubters, and 
 the Glory-doubters, whose captains were Captain 
 Rage, Captain Cruel, Captain Damnation, Captain 
 Insatiable, Captain Brimstone, Captain Torment, 
 Captain Noease, Captain Sepulchre, and Captain 
 Tasthope, and old Incredulity was under Diabolus 
 their general; there were also the seven heads of 
 their army, and they were the Lord Beelzebub, the 
 Lord Lucifer, the Lord Legion, the Lord Apollyon, 
 the Lord Python, the Lord Cerberus, and the Lord 
 Belial. But the princes and the captains, with old 
 Incredulity their general, did all of them make 
 their escape, so their men fell down slain by the 
 power of the Prince’s forces, and by the hands of 
 the men of the town of Mansoul. They also were 
 
 1 Thus was the victory completed, and by this we are taught 
 that doubts of the love of Christ, contrary to the declarations 
 ot his \\ ord, should be utterly suppressed, as being infinitely 
 dishonourable to our faithful covenant God, and unspeakably 
 pernicious to our own souls.—(Burder.) Still we are not to 
 lorget the danger of their rising from the tomb again to dis¬ 
 tress us, unless we are found constantly watchful and prayerful. 
 ^ hen Greatheart and the Pilgrims had killed Despair, and 
 destroyed Doubting Castle, and are rejoicing over the ruins, 
 Bunyan thus warns them— 
 
 * Though Doubting Castle be demolished. 
 
 And the Giant Despair hath lost liis head, 
 
 Sin can rebuild the castle, make it remain. 
 
 And make Despair, the giant, live again.’— (Ed.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 buried as before related, to the exceeding great joy 
 of the now famous town of Mansoul. They that 
 buried them, buried also with them their arms, 
 which were cruel instruments of death, their wea¬ 
 pons were arrows, darts, mauls, fire¬ 
 brands, and the like; they buried also mnmuHmSd 
 their armour, their colours, banners, Wlththem * * 
 with the standard of Diabolus, and what else 
 soever they could find that did but smell of a 
 Diabolonian Doubter. 1 
 
 [Chapter XVII.] 
 
 [Contents :—A new army of Bloodmen, or persecutors, at¬ 
 tack the town, but are surrounded by the Mansoulians, 
 headed by Faith aud Patience—The examination of some 
 of the leaders—Evil-questioning entertains some of the 
 Doubters, but is discovered by Diligence—The principal 
 Doubters tried, convicted, and executed.] 
 
 Now when the tyrant was arrived at Hell-gatc- 
 hill, with his old friend Incredulity, they im¬ 
 mediately descended the den, and having there, 
 with their fellows, for a while condoled their mis¬ 
 fortune and great loss that they sustained against 
 the town of Mansoul, they fell at length into a 
 passion, and revenged they would be for the loss 
 that they sustained before the town of Mansoul, 
 wherefore they presently call a council The tyrant re- 
 to contrive yet further what was to be JJtaboutiSth 
 done against the famous town of Man- Mansoul. 
 soul; for their yawning paunches could not wait 
 to see the result of their Lord Lucifer’s and their 
 Lord Apollyon’s counsel that they had given before, 
 for their raging gorge thought every day even as 
 long as a short-for-ever, until they were filled with 
 the body and soul, with the flesh and bones, and 
 with all the delicates of Mansoul. They therefore 
 resolve to make another attempt upon the town of 
 Mansoul, and that by an army mixed, and made 
 up, partly of Doubters and partly of Bloodmen. 2 * * * * 
 A more particular account now take of both. 
 
 The Doubters are such as have their name from 
 their nature, as well as from the lord 
 and kingdom where they are born; Doubt™ 7 and 
 their nature is to put a question upon Bloodmen - 
 every one of the truths of Emmanuel, and their 
 country is called, The Land of Doubting, and that 
 land lietli off, and furthest remote to the north, 
 between the Land of Darkness and that called the 
 
 2 Poor Mansoul, having by grace overcome his doubts and 
 
 fears, having died to sin and risen again to newness of life, is 
 
 now fit to comfort his brethren in church fellowship. As the 
 
 Pilgrim was frighted by the lions before the house Beautiful, 
 to prevent his entering into communion with a church, so here 
 
 they suffer persecution from these lions, here called ‘ Blood- 
 men,’ and an appropriate title it is for all persecutors. All 
 those who enforce human laws to compel our presence at, or 
 
 support to, any form of worship, are bloodmen. Bless God 
 that they can only scratch us now; but if they had the power, 
 the same spirit that now scratches would devour the saints of 
 God.—(E d.) 
 
 46 
 
362 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 v 
 
 Valley of tlie Shadow of Death. For though the 
 Land of Darkness, and that called the Land of 
 of the country of the Shadow of Death, he sometimes 
 
 oftSSmen! callecl aS if tlie J were 0ne and tlie 
 where they lie. self-same place, yet indeed they are 
 
 two, lying but a little way asunder, and the Land 
 
 of Doubting points in, and lietli between them. 
 
 This is the Land of Doubting, and these that came 
 
 with Diabolus to ruin the town of Mansoul are the 
 
 natives of that country. 
 
 The Bloodmen are a people that have their 
 name derived from the malignity of their nature, 
 and from the fury that is in them to execute it upon 
 the town of Mansoul; their land lieth under the 
 Dog-star, and by that they are governed as to 
 
 their intellectuals. 
 
 The name of their country is the Province of 
 Loath-good, the remote parts of it are far distant 
 from the Land of Doubting, yet they do both but 
 and bound upon the hill called Hell-gate-hill. 
 These people are always in league with the 
 Doubters, for they jointly do make question of the 
 faith and fidelity of the men of the town of Man¬ 
 soul, and so are both alike qualified for the service 
 of their prince. 
 
 Now of these two countries did Diabolus, by the 
 Tlie number of his beating* of his drum, raise another 
 
 new army. army against the town of Mansoul, 
 of five and twenty thousand strong. There were 
 ten thousand Doubters and fifteen thousand Blood- 
 men, and they were put under several captains for 
 the war, and old Incredulity was again made 
 general of the army. 
 
 As for the Doubters, their captains were five 
 of the seven that were heads of the last Diabo- 
 lonian army, and these are their names, Captain 
 Beelzebub, Captain Lucifer, Captain Apollyon, 
 Captain Legion, and Captain Cerberus, and the 
 captains that they had before were some of 
 them made lieutenants, and some ensigns in the 
 army. 
 
 But Diabolus did not count that in this expedi¬ 
 tion of his, these Doubters would prove his principal 
 TT . ,. . . ,, men, for their manhood had been 
 
 His chief strength ’ 
 
 lies in the Blood- tried before, also the Mansoulians 
 had put them to the worst, only he 
 did bring them to multiply a number, and to help, 
 if need was, at a pinch; but his trust he put in 
 his Bloodmen, for that they were all rugged vil¬ 
 lains, and he knew that they had done feats here¬ 
 tofore. 1 
 
 As for the Bloodmen, they also were under 
 
 1 The Bloodmen, or persecutors, are all rugged villains; 
 they are strengthened by new doubts arising from persecution 
 for Christ’s sake. From Fox’s Martyrs Buuyan had obtained 
 a good estimate of their character. Persecutor, read your 
 character—a rugged villain, a ymastiff who would fasten upon 
 relative, prince, and even the Prince of princes.— (Ed.) 
 
 command, and the names of their captains were, 
 Captain Cain, Captain Nimrod, Cap- The captains of 
 tain Ishmael, Captain Esau, Captain tte Bloodmen. 
 Saul, Captain Absalom, Captain Judas, and Cap-, 
 tain Pope. 
 
 1. Captain Cain was over two bands, to wit, 
 the zealous and the angry Bloodmen; his standard- 
 bearer bear the red colours, and his escutcheon was 
 the murdering club. Ge. iv. 8. 
 
 2. Captain Nimrod was captain over two bands, 
 to wit, the tyrannical and encroaching Bloodmen; 
 his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his 
 escutcheon was the great blood-hound. Ge. x. 8. 
 
 3. Captain Ishmael was captain over two bands, 
 to wit, over the mocking and scornful Bloodmen; 
 his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his 
 escutcheon was one mocking at Abraham’s Isaac. 
 
 Ge. xxi. 9, 10. 
 
 4. Captain Esau was captain over two bands, 
 to wit, the Bloodmen that grudged that another 
 should have the blessing, also over the Bloodmen 
 that are for executing their private revenge upon 
 others; his standard-bearer bare the red colours, 
 and his escutcheon was one privately lurking to 
 murder Jacob. Ge. xxvii. 42—45. 
 
 5. Captain Saul was captain over two bands, to 
 wit, the groundlessly jealous, and the devilishly 
 furious Bloodmen; his standard-bearer bear the 
 red colours, and his escutcheon was three bloody 
 darts cast at harmless David, l sa. xviii. io; xix. io; xx. 33. 
 
 6. Captain Absalom was captain over two 
 bands, to wit, over the Bloodmen that will kill a 
 father or a friend for the glory of this world, also 
 over those Bloodmen that will hold one fair in 
 hand with words, till they shall have pierced him 
 with their swords; his standard-bearer did bare 
 the red colours, and his escutcheon was the son 
 a-pursuing his father’s blood. 2 Sa. xv., xvi., xvii. 
 
 7. Captain Judas was over two bands, to wit, 
 the Bloodmen that will sell a man’s life for money, 
 and those also that will betray their friend with a 
 kiss; his standard-bearer bare the red colours, and 
 his escutcheon was thirty pieces of silver and the 
 halter. Mat. xxvi. 14—16. 
 
 8. Captain Pope was captain over one band, for 
 all these spirits are joined in one under him; his 
 standard-bearer bare the red colours, and his 
 escutcheon was the stake, the flame, and the good 
 man in it. Re. xiii. 7, 8. Da. xi. 38. 
 
 Now the reason why Diabolus did so soon rally 
 another force after he had been beaten out of the 
 field was, for that he put mighty confidence in his 
 army of Bloodmen, for he put a great deal of 
 more trust in them than he did before The conditions 
 in his army of Doubters, though they jj[ e * he Bjood- 
 had also often done great service for stoutness and 
 him in the strengthening of him in his v om ' 
 kingdom. But these Bloodmen he had proved 
 
THE HOLY WAR 
 
 368 
 
 them often, and their sword did seldom return 
 empty. Besides, he knew that these, like mas¬ 
 tiffs, would fasten upon any, upon father, mother, 
 brother, sister, prince, or governor, yea, upon the 
 Prince of princes. And that which encouraged 
 him the more, was for that they once did force 
 Emmanuel out of the kingdom of Universe, and 
 why, thought he, may they not also drive him from 
 the town of Mansoul? 1 
 
 So this army of five and twenty thousand strong, 
 
 They .it down was > b / their general the Lord In- 
 before Man- credulity, led up against the town of 
 Mansoul. Now Mr. Pry well, the scout¬ 
 master-general, did himself go out to spy, and he 
 did bring Mansoul tidings of their coming; where¬ 
 fore they shut up their gates and put themselves 
 in a posture of defence against these new Diabo- 
 lonians that came up against the town. 
 
 So Diabolus brought up his army and beleaguered 
 
 How they dis- ^ ie town °f Mansoul; the Doubters 
 pose of them- were placed about Feelgate, and the 
 Bloodmen set down before Eyegate 
 and Eargate. 
 
 Now when this army had thus encamped them¬ 
 selves, Incredulity did, in the name of Diabolus, 
 liis own name, and in the name of the Bloodmen and 
 
 They summon tlie rest tliat were with Send a 
 
 the town with summons as hot as a red hot iron to 
 a threatening ^j anS0l j yield to their demands, 
 
 threatening that if they still stood it out against 
 them, they would presently burn down Mansoul 
 with fire. For you must know, that as for the 
 Bloodmen, they were not so much that Mansoul 
 should be surrendered, as that Mansoul should be 
 destroyed and cut off out of the land of the living. 2 
 True, they send to them to surrender, but should 
 they so do, that w r ould not stanch or quench the 
 thirsts of these men. is. lix. 7. # They must have 
 blood, the blood of Mansoul, else they die; and it 
 is from hence that they have their name. rs. xxvi. 
 9 , 10 . is. lix. 7. Je. xxii. 17. Wherefore these Bloodmen 
 he reserved while now that they might, when all 
 his engines proved ineffectual, as his last and sure 
 card, be played against the town of Mansoul. 
 
 Now when the townsmen had received this red 
 hot summons, it begat in them at present some 
 changing and interchanging thoughts, but they 
 jointly agreed, in less than half an hour, to carry 
 the summons to the Prince, the which they did 
 when they had writ at the bottom of it, Lord, save 
 Mansoul from bloody men. Ps. lix. 2 . 
 
 So he took it and looked upon it, and considered 
 
 1 O the folly of this lying Diabolus! lie tried his Blood¬ 
 men upon Christ. They, by putting him to death, crushed 
 the head of Satan, shook his power, and will annihilate it, and 
 till hell with fresh torments. He pursues the same course 
 with the saints of God, and their blood and groans become the 
 fruitful seed of the church. So does Satan aid in destroying 
 himself.—(E d.) 
 
 it, and took also notice of that short petition that 
 the men of Mansoul had written at the bottom of 
 it, and called to him the noble Captain Credence, 
 and bid him go, and take Captain Patience with 
 him, and go and take care of that side of Mansoul 
 that was beleaguered by the Bloodmen. He. vi. 12 , 15 . 
 So they w r ent and did as they were commanded, 
 the Captain Credence went and took Captain 
 Patience, and they both secured that side of Man¬ 
 soul that was besieged by the Bloodmen. 
 
 Then he commanded that Captain Goodhope and 
 Captain Charity, and my Lord Will-be-will, should 
 take charge of the other side of the town, and I, 
 said the Prince, will set my standard upon the 
 battlements of your castle, and do you three 
 watch against the Doubters. This done, he again 
 commanded that the brave captain, the Captain 
 Experience, should draw up his men in the market¬ 
 place, and that there he should exercise them daj 
 by day before the people of the town of Mansoul. 
 Now this siege was long, and many a fierce attempt 
 did the enemy, especially those called the Blood¬ 
 men, make upon the town of Mansoul, and many 
 a shrewd brush did some of the townsmen meet 
 with from them, especially Captain Self-denial, 
 who, 1 should have told you before, was com¬ 
 manded to take care of Eargate and Eyegate now 
 against the Bloodmen. This Captain Self-denial 
 was a young man, but stout, and a captain Self- 
 townsman of Mansoul, as Captain o^tilose^ttmt 
 Experience also was. And Em- were put m 
 manuel, at his second return to Man- town of Man- 
 SOul, made him a captain over a souL 
 thousand of the Mansoulians, for the good of 
 the corporation. This captain, therefore, being a 
 hardy man, and a man of great courage, and will¬ 
 ing to venture himself for the good of the town of 
 Mansoul, would now and then sally Hisyalo 
 out upon the Bloodmen and give them 
 many notable alarms,, and entered several brisk 
 skirmishes with them, and also did some execution 
 upon them ; but you must think that this could 
 not easily be done, but he must meet His signs of 
 with brushes himself, for he carried manhood 
 several of their marks in his face; yea, and some 
 in some other parts of his body. 3 
 
 So, after some time spent for the trial of the 
 faith, and hope, and love of the town of Mansoul, 
 the Prince Emmanuel upon a day Emman „ el pre _ 
 calls his captains and men of war pares to give the 
 together, and divides them into two How he ordereth 
 companies ; this done, he commands lus meu * 
 
 2 Satan’s uniform aim is to destroy body and soul in hell 
 for ever. But blessed be God, he shall not be able to take 
 the feeblest lamb out of the embraces of covenant love.— 
 (Mason.) 
 
 3 Faith, Patience, and Self-denial are admirably placed in 
 opposition to the Bloodmen, persecutors. How well they 
 behaved in the time of our pilgrim fathers is well known; and 
 
3G4 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 them at a time appointed, and that in the morning 
 very early, to sally out upon the enemy, saying, 
 Let half of you fall upon the Doubters, and half 
 of you fall upon the Bloodmen. Those of you 
 that go out against the Doubters, kill and slay, 
 and cause to perish so many of them as by any 
 means you can lay hands on, but for you that go 
 out against the Bloodmen, slay them not, but take 
 them alive. 1 
 
 feo, at the time appointed, betimes in the morn- 
 The captains go ing the captains went out, as they 
 out * were commanded, against the enemies; 
 Captain Goodhope, Captain Charity, and those 
 that were joined with them, as Captain Innocent 
 and Captain Experience, went out against the 
 Doubters; and Captain Credence and Captain 
 Patience, with Captain Self-denial, and the rest 
 that were to join with them, went out against the 
 Bloodmen. 
 
 How those that went out against the Doubters 
 The Doubters drew up into a body before the plain, 
 put to flight. an( j marc } ie( j on to bid them battle; 
 
 but the Doubters, remembering their last success, 
 made a retreat, not daring to stand the shock, but 
 fled from the Prince’s men, wherefore they pur¬ 
 sued them, and in their pursuit slew many, but 
 they could not catch them all. Now those that 
 escaped went some of them home, and the rest, by 
 fives, nines, and seventeens, 2 like wanderers, went, 
 straggling up and down the country, where they, 
 
 The unbeliever U P 011 barbarous people, showed 
 
 never fights and exercised many of their Diabo- 
 the Doubters. . J . 
 
 toman actions; nor did these people 
 rise up in arms against them, but suffered them¬ 
 selves to be enslaved by them. 3 They would also 
 after this show themselves in companies before 
 the town of Mansoul, but never to abide it, for if 
 Captain Credence, Captain Goodhope, or Captain 
 Experience did but show themselves, they fled. 
 
 Those that went out against the Bloodmen did 
 
 The Bloodmen as tlie ^ were commanded, they forbore 
 are^taken, and to slay any, but sought to compass 
 
 them about. But the Bloodmen, when 
 they saw that no Emmanuel was in the field, con¬ 
 cluded also that no Emmanuel was in Mansoul, 
 wherefore they, looking upon what the captains 
 did, to be, as they called it, a fruit of the extrava¬ 
 gancy of their wild and foolish fancies, rather 
 despised them than feared them; but the cap- 
 
 in our happier times they are invaluable guards to support us 
 iu the loss oi' friends or property.— (Ed.) 
 
 1 ‘ Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good 
 to them that hate you, aud pray for them which despitefully 
 use you, and persecute you.’ This is the imperative command 
 oi Emmanuel to his followers, set forth in his sermon on the 
 mount. Your lusts must be crucified, your doubts destroyed, 
 your persecutors pitied and prayed for.— (Ed.) 
 
 ‘ Fives, nines, and seventeens.’ Why these odd numbers 
 are given would not be a bad riddle to give our young friends, 
 live infernal spirits were the leaders of the Satanic army. 
 
 tains, minding their business, at last did compass 
 them round, they also that had routed the Doubters 
 came in amain to their aid; so in fine, after some 
 little struggling—for the Bloodmen also would have 
 run for it, only now it was too late—for though 
 they are mischievous and cruel where f 
 they can overcome, yet all Bloodmen 
 are chicken-hearted men when they once come to 
 see themselves matched and equalled—so the cap¬ 
 tains took them, and brought them to the Priuce. 
 
 Now when they were taken, had before the 
 Prince, and examined, he found them They are 
 to be of three several counties, though brought to the 
 they all came out of one land. found to be of 
 
 1. One sort of them came out of threesorts - 
 Blindmanshire, and they were such a3 did ignor¬ 
 antly what they did. 1 Ti. i. 13-15. Mat. v, 44. 
 
 2. Another sort of them came out of Blindzeal- 
 shire, and they did superstitiously what they did. 
 
 Lu. vi. 22, 
 
 3. The third sort of them came out of the town 
 of Malice in the county of E nvy, and they did what 
 they did out of spite and implacableness. 4 Jn. xvi. 2. 
 
 Eor the first of these, to wit, they that came out 
 of Blindmanshire, when they saw where they were, 
 and against whom they had fought, they trembled, 
 and cried as they stood before him; and as many 
 of these as asked him mercy, he touched their lips 
 with his golden sceptre. Ac. ix. 5-6. 
 
 They that came out of Blindzealshire, they did 
 not as their fellows did, for they pleaded that they 
 had a right to do what they did, because Mansoul 
 was a town whose laws and customs were diverse 
 from all that dwelt thereabouts. Very few of these 
 could be brought to see their evil; but those that 
 did, and asked mercy, they also obtained favour. 
 
 Ju. viii. 40. 4 
 
 They that came out of the town of Malice, that 
 is in the county cff Envy, they neither wept nor 
 disputed, nor repented, but stood gnawing of their 
 tongues before him for anguish and madness, be¬ 
 cause they could not have their will upon Mansoul. 
 Re. ix. 20 , 21 . Now these last, with all those of the 
 other two sorts that did not unfeignedly ask par- 
 
 It consisted of nine companies of Doubters, and eight of Blood¬ 
 men, or persecutors. First, five fallen angels; second, nine 
 classes of doubts; and if this was not enough to enslave the 
 soul, they were to be aided by eight classes of persecutors. 
 This may account for the grouping of these dangerous enemies 
 in fives, nines, and seventeens.— (Ed.) 
 
 3 Many are led captive by Satan at his will, blinded to 
 their misery and fate by the god of this world, in whose delu¬ 
 sive arms many of them sleep till death and judgment awake 
 them to behold their awful and remediless state. Lord, pity 
 them!—(Mason.) 
 
 4 These are the three grades of Bloodmen, but all are influ¬ 
 enced by hatred to Christianity and a love of plunder. God 
 hates robbery for offerings, yet some blind fanatics will seize 
 their neighbour’s goods to save their own pockets iu adorning 
 their temples. May God in mercy convert them, as he did 
 Saul of Tarsus.— (Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 365 
 
 don for their faults, those he made to enter into 
 
 The Bioodmen su ® c i ent ^Ond to answer for w hat they 
 aae bound over l ia d done against Mansoul and against 
 
 what they have her King, at the great and general 
 sizes, assizes to be liolden for our Lord the 
 of judgment. King, where he himself should appoint 
 for the country and kingdom of Universe. 
 
 So they became bound, each man for himself, to 
 come in when called upon, to answer before our 
 Lord the King for what they had done as be¬ 
 fore. 1 
 
 And thus much concerning this second army 
 that were sent by Diabolus to overthrow Mansoul. 
 But there were three of those that came from 
 the land of Doubting, who, after they 
 
 Three or four of.. . . . 0 .. , 
 
 the Doubters had wandered and ranged the country 
 
 soul!are enter- awhile, and perceived that they had 
 
 tained, and by escaped, were so hardy as to thrust 
 whom. . r . , . . 
 
 themselves, knowing that yet there 
 
 were in the town Diabolonians—I say they were so 
 hardy as to thrust themselves into Mansoul among 
 them. Three, did I say? I think there were four. 
 Now, to whose house should these Diabolonian 
 Doubters go, but to the house of an old Diabolon¬ 
 ian in Mansoul, whose name was Evil-questioning: 
 a very great enemy he was to Mansoul, and a 
 great doer among the Diabolonians there. Well, 
 to this Evil-questioning’s house, as was said, did 
 these Diabolonians come—you may be sure that 
 they had directions how to find the way thither; 
 so he made them welcome, pitied their misfortune, 
 and succoured them with the best that he had in 
 his house. Now, after a little acquaintance, and 
 it was not long before they had that, this old Evil¬ 
 questioning asked the Doubters if they were all of 
 a town—he knew that they were all of one king- 
 
 What sort of ^om. And they answered, no, nor not 
 Doubters they of one shire neither; for I, said one, 
 
 Hire* 
 
 am an Election-doubter; I, said an¬ 
 other, am a Vocation-doubter; then, said the third, 
 I am a Salvation-doubter; and the fourth said he 
 was a Grace-doubter. Well, quoth the old gen¬ 
 tleman, be of what shire you will, I am persuaded 
 that you are down boys ; 2 you have the very*lengtli 
 of my foot, 3 are one with my heart, and shall be 
 welcome to me. So they thanked him, and were 
 glad that they had found themselves a harbour in 
 Talk betwixt the Mansoul. 4 Then said Evil-questioning 
 old Evii-ques- 1° them. How many oi your company 
 uornng. might there be that came with you 
 
 1 Persecutors, who die in impenitence, must appear at the 
 day of judgment, when these ungodly men shall be judged of 
 all their ungodly deeds, and all their hard speeches against 
 Christ in his members. Jude 15.— (Ed.) 
 
 “ ‘Down boys,’ deep, knowing, determined fellows; as 
 ‘ down bout,’ a tough battle, a set to at hard drinking. In 
 1096, it was altered to ‘town boys;’ an unmeaning name. 
 This was continued in 1707; but was restored to ‘down boys’ 
 in 1720 .-(Ed.) 
 
 to the siege of Mansoul? And they answered, 
 There were but ten thousand Doubters in all, for 
 the rest of the army consisted of fifteen thousand 
 Bioodmen. These Bioodmen, quoth they, horde* 
 upon our country ; but, poor men, as we hear, they 
 were every one taken by Emmanuel’s forces. Ten 
 thousand! quoth the old gentleman, I’ll promise 
 you that is a round company. But how came it to 
 pass, since you were so mighty a number, that you 
 fainted, and durst not fight your foes? Our gen¬ 
 eral, said they, was the first man that did run for 
 it. Pray, quoth their landlord, who was that your 
 cowardly general? He was once the Lord Mayor 
 of Mansoul, said they. But, pray, call him not a 
 cowardly general; for whether any, from the east 
 to the west, has done more service for our prince, 
 Diabolus, than has my Lord Incredulity, will be a 
 hard question for you to answer. But had they 
 catched him, they would for certain have hanged 
 him; and we promise you hanging is but a bad 
 business. 5 Then, said the old gentleman, I would 
 that all the ten thousand Doubters were now well 
 armed in Mansoul, and myself in the head of them, 
 I would see what I could do. Ay, said they, that 
 would be well if we could see that; but wishes, 
 alas! what are they? And these words were 
 spoken aloud. Well, said old Evil-questioning, 
 take heed that you talk not too loud; you must be 
 quat 6 7 and close, and must take care of yourselves 
 while you are here, or, I’ll assure you, you will bo 
 snapt. 
 
 Why? quoth the Doubters. 
 
 Why ? quoth the old gentleman; why, because 
 both the Prince and Lord Secretary, and their 
 captains and soldiers, are all at present in town; 
 yea, the town is as full of them as ever it can hold. 
 And, besides, there is one whose name is Will-be- 
 will, a most cruel enemy of ours, and him the 
 Prince has made keeper of the gates, and has 
 commanded him that, with all the diligence he can, 
 he should look for, search out, and destroy all and 
 all manner of Diabolonians. 
 
 And if he lighteth upon you, down you go, 
 though your heads were made of gold.' 
 
 And now to see how it happened. One of the 
 Lord Will-be-will’s faithful soldiers, TJiey over _ 
 whose name was Mr. Diligence, stood heard * 
 all this while listening under old Evil-questioning’s 
 eaves, and heard all the talk that had been betwixt 
 
 3 ‘ Length of my foot,’ a proverb meaning similarity of dis¬ 
 position.—(E d.) 
 
 4 In our best estate we are too prone to question the truth 
 of God’s Word and his faithfulness; we believe him able, but 
 harbour doubts as to his willingness to save us. Lord, increase 
 our faith 1—(Mason.) 
 
 5 Hanging is a bad business; it does not deter men from 
 crime, but the sight of it hardens them in iniquity.—(E d.) 
 
 6 Cowering, stooping, squat.—(E d.) 
 
 7 No bribe can save them.—(E d.) 
 
866 
 
 TI1E HOLT WAR. 
 
 
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 Kim and the Doubters that he entertained under 
 his roof. 
 
 The soldier was a man that my Lord had much 
 confidence in, and that he loved dearly; and that 
 both because he was a man of courage, and also a 
 man that was unwearied in seeking after Diabol- 
 onians to apprehend them. 
 
 Now this man, as I told you, heard all the talk 
 They are dis- that was between old Evil-questioning 
 covered. an d these Diabolonians; wherefore, 
 what does he but go to his Lord, and tells him 
 what he had heard. And sayest thou so, my 
 trusty? quoth my Lord. Ay, quoth Diligence, 
 that I do ; and if your Lordship will be pleased to 
 go with me, you shall find it as I have said. And 
 are they there? quoth my Lord; I know Evil¬ 
 questioning well, for he and I were great in the 
 time of our apostacy. But I know not now where 
 he dwells. But I do, said his man; and, if your 
 Lordship will go, I will lead you the way to his 
 den. Go! quoth my Lord, that I will. Come, 
 my Diligence, let us go find them out. So, my 
 Lord and his man went together the direct way to 
 his house. Now, his man went before to show him 
 his way, and they went till they came even under 
 old Mr. Evil-questioning’s wall. Then said Dili¬ 
 gence, Hark! my Lord; do you know the old gen¬ 
 tleman’s tongue when you hear it? Yes, said my 
 Lord, I know it well; but I have not seen him 
 many a day. This I know; he is cunning. I 
 wish he doth not give us the slip. Let me alone 
 for that, said his servant, Diligence. But how 
 shall we find the door? quoth my Lord. Let me 
 alone for that, too, said his man. So he had my 
 Lord Will-be-will about, and showed him the way 
 to the door Then my Lord, without more ado, 
 broke open the door, rushed into the house, and 
 caught them all five together, even as Diligence, 
 ihey^are apprc- his man, had told him. So, my Lord 
 committed^to apprehended them and led them away, 
 prison. and comm itt ec [ them to the hand of 
 
 Mr. Trueman, the jailer, and commanded, and he 
 did put them in ward. 1 This done, my Lord Mayor 
 was acquainted in the morning with what my Lord 
 TheLord Mayor Will-be-will had done over-night, and 
 is glad at it. p- g Lordship rejoiced much at the 
 
 news, not only because there were Doubters appre¬ 
 hended, but because that old Evil-questioning was 
 taken; for he had been a very great trouble to 
 Mansoul, and much affliction to my Lord Mayor 
 himself. He had also been sought for often, but no 
 hand could ever be laid upon him till now. 
 
 Well, the next thing was to make preparation 
 to try these five that by my Lord had been appre¬ 
 hended, and that were in the hands of Mr. True- 
 
 1 Thus believers, by the almighty power of grace, are en¬ 
 
 abled to take those captives whose captives they were. Is. 
 
 xlv. 2, 3.—(Mason.) 
 
 man, the jailer. So the day was set, and the 
 court called and come together, and Theyarebrought 
 the prisoners brought to the bar. My to trial - 
 Lord Will-be-will had power to have slain them 
 when at first he took them, and that without any 
 more ado; but he thought it at this time more for 
 the honour of the Prince, the comfort of Mansoul, 
 and the discouragement of the enemy, to bring 
 them forth to public judgment. 
 
 But, I say, Mr. Trueman brought them in chains 
 to the bar, to the town-hall, for that was the place 
 of judgment. So, to be short, the jury was pan- 
 nelled, the witnesses sworn, and the prisoners tried 
 for their lives. The jury was the same that tried 
 Mr. Notrutli, Pityless, Haughty, and the rest of 
 their companions. 
 
 And first old Questioning himself was set to the 
 bar; for he was the receiver, the entertainer, and 
 comforter of these Doubters, that by nation were 
 outlandish men ; 2 then he was bid to hearken to his 
 charge, and was told that he had liberty to object, 
 if he had ought to say for himself. So his indict¬ 
 ment was read; the manner and form here follows— 
 
 Mr. Questioning, Thou art here indicted by the 
 name of Evil-questioning, an intruder 
 upon the town of Mansoul, for that Hls mdictment * 
 thou art a Diabolonian by nature, and also a hater 
 of the Prince Emmanuel, and one that hast studied 
 the ruin of the town of Mansoul. Thou art also 
 here indicted for countenancing the King’s ene¬ 
 mies, after wholesome laws made to the contrary: 
 For, 1. Thou hast questioned the truth of her doc¬ 
 trine and state. 2. In wishing that ten thousand 
 Doubters were in her. 3. In receiving, in enter¬ 
 taining, and encouraging of her enemies that came 
 from their army unto thee. What sayest thou to 
 this indictment, Art thou guilty, or not guilty ? 
 
 My Lord, quoth he, I know not the meaning of 
 this indictment, forasmuch as I am 
 not the man concerned in it; the man ^ plea ‘ 
 that standeth by this charge, accused before this 
 bench, is called by the name of Evil-questioning, 
 which name I deny to be mine, mine being Honest- 
 inquiring. 3 The one indeed sounds like the other; 
 but I trow, your Lordships know, that between 
 these two there is a wide difference; for I hope 
 that a man, even in the worst of times, and that 
 too amongst the worst of men, may make an honest 
 inquiry after things, without running the danger 
 of death. 
 
 Will. Then spake my Lord Will-be-will, for he 
 was one of the witnesses: ‘ My Lord, T , xxr .„ 
 
 . — ’ The Lord Will- 
 
 and you the honourable bench, and be-wiii’s testi- 
 magistrates of the town of Mansoul, mony 
 
 2 Enemies to faith, hope, and love. The soul, by reason of 
 its depravity, is subject to many doubts and unbelieving fears, 
 which Adam, before the fall, was a stranger to.—(Mason.) 
 
 a How common it is for vice to disguise itself under the 
 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 867 
 
 you all have heard with your ears, that the prisoner 
 at the bar has denied his name, and so thinks to 
 shift from the charge of the indictment. But I 
 know him to be the man concerned, and that his 
 proper name is Evil-questioning. I have known 
 him, my Lord, above this thirty years; for he and 
 I, a shame it is for me to speak it, were great 
 acquaintance, when Diabolus, that tyrant, had the 
 government of Mansoul; and I testify that he is a 
 Diabolonian by nature, and enemy to our Prince, 
 and a hater of the blessed town of Mansoul. He 
 has, in times of rebellion, been at, and lain in my 
 house, my Lord, not so little as twenty nights 
 together; and we did use to talk then, for the 
 substance of talk, as he, and his Doubters have 
 talked of late; true I have not seen him many 
 a-day. I suppose that the coming of Emmanuel 
 to Mansoul has made him to change his lodgings, 
 as this indictment has driven him to change his 
 name; but this is the man, my Lord.’ 
 
 Then said the court unto him, Hast 
 
 The court. ,, , „ 
 
 thou any more to say £ 
 
 Evil. Yes, quoth the old gentleman, that I have; 
 
 for all that as yet has been said 
 against me, is but by the mouth of 
 one witness, and it is not lawful for the famous 
 town of Mansoul, at the mouth of one witness to 
 put any man to death. 
 
 Dilig. Then stood forth Mr. Diligence, and said, 
 Mr. Diligence’s ‘ My Lord, as I was upon my watch 
 testimony. guc | 1 a night, at the head of Bad 
 
 Street in this town, I chanced to hear a muttering 
 within this gentleman’s house; then thought I 
 what is to do here? So I went up close, but very 
 softly to the side of the house, to listen, thinking, 
 as indeed it fell out, that there I might light upon 
 some Diabolonian conventicle. * 1 So, as I said, I 
 drew nearer and nearer, and when I was got up 
 close to the wall, it was but a while before I 
 perceived that there were out-landish men in the 
 house; but I did well understand their speech, for 
 I have been a traveller myself. Now hearing such 
 language in such a tottering cottage as this old 
 gentleman dwelt in, I clapt mine ear to a hole 
 in the window, and there heard them talk as fol- 
 loweth. This old Mr. Questioning asked these 
 Doubters what they were, whence they came, and 
 what was their business in these parts ? And they 
 told 2 him to all these questions, yet he did enter¬ 
 
 name of virtue ! To understand the difference between Evil¬ 
 questioning and Honest-inquiry is of the most solemn import¬ 
 ance. Honest inquiry is the essential duty of every Christian. 
 Leaving all human aids, our hopes of salvation depend upon 
 our seeking the influence of the Holy Spirit to guide us, that 
 we may understand the Sacred Scriptures; and by a diligent 
 prayerful study of the Bible alone, be led into spiritual truth; 
 to the knowledge and obedience of him who is the Way, the 
 '1 ruth, and the Life. Evil questioning is a trusting to our 
 own perverted reason; bringing to the proud bar of our de¬ 
 
 tain them. He also asked what numbers thcro 
 were of them, and they told him ten thousand men. 
 He then asked them why they made no more 
 manly assault upon Mansoul? And they told him; 
 so he called their general coward for marching 
 off when he should have fought for his Prince. 
 Further, this old Evil-questioning wished, and I 
 heard him wish, Would all the ten thousand 
 Doubters were now in Mansoul, and himself in 
 the head of them. He bid them also to take heed 
 and lie quat, for if they were taken they must die, 
 although they had heads of gold. 
 
 Then said the court, Mr. Evil-questioning, hero 
 is now another witness against you, 
 and his testimony is full: 1. He swears The 001 rt ' 
 that you did receive these men into your house, 
 and that you did nourish them there, though you 
 knew that they were Diabolonians, and the King’s 
 enemies. 2. He swears that you did wish ten 
 thousand of them in Mansoul. 3. He swears that 
 you did give them advice to be quat and close lest 
 they were taken by the King’s servants. All which 
 manifesteth that thou art a Diabolonian ; for hadst 
 thou been a friend to the King, thou wouldest have 
 apprehended them. 
 
 Evil. Then said Evil-questioning, To the first of 
 these I answer, the men that came into 
 mine house were strangers, and I took Ils plea ‘ 
 them in, and is it now become a crime in Mansoul 
 for a man to entertain strangers? That I did also 
 nourish them is true, and why should my charity 
 be blamed? As for the reason why I wished ten 
 thousand of them in Mansoul, I never told it to the 
 witnesses, nor to themselves. I might wish them 
 to be taken, and so my wish might mean well to 
 Mansoul, for aught that any yet knows. I did 
 also bid them take heed that they fell not into the 
 captain’s hands; but that might be because I am 
 unwilling that any man should be slain; and not 
 because I would have the King’s enemies as such 
 escape. 
 
 My Lord Mayor then replied, That though it 
 was a virtue to entertain strangers, yet it was 
 treason to entertain the King’s enemies. And for 
 what else thou hast said, thou dost by words but 
 labour to evade, and defer the execution of judg¬ 
 ment. But could there be no more proved against 
 thee but that thou art a Diabolouian, thou must 
 for that die the death by the law; but to be a 
 
 praved judgment the truths of revelation, wresting and con¬ 
 demning them to our own destruction. Christian inquirer, 
 your duty is perfectly clear—you must make honest inquiry, 
 without evil questioning .— (Ed.) 
 
 1 ' Conventicle,’ — from * convene/ to meet together — a 
 term of reproach given to meetings of Christians, who, re¬ 
 fusing to unite with the churches of Autichrist, met in a more 
 private manner, as our Lord and his apostles did. Lu. xxii. 12. 
 Ac. i. 13, 14 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Narrated, made known their treasonable designs.—(E d.) 
 
36S 
 
 THE HOLY WAR 
 
 
 
 receiver, a nourisher, a eountenancer, and a har- 
 bourer of others of them, yea, of outlandish Dia- 
 bolonians; yea, of them that came from far, on 
 purpose to cut off and destroy our Mansoul; this 
 must not be borne. 
 
 Then said Evil-questioning, I see 
 
 Ilis conclusion. , ,, ... T , , • /- 
 
 how the game will go; I must die tor 
 ray name, and for my charity. And so he held 
 his peace. 
 
 Then they called the outlandish Doubters to the 
 bar; and the first of them that was arraigned was 
 the Election-doubter; so his indictment was read, 
 The Election- and because he was an outlandish man, 
 doubter tried. ^lie su hstance of it was told him by an 
 
 interpreter; to wit, That he was there charged with 
 being an enemy of Emmanuel the Prince, a hater 
 of the town of Mansoul, and an opposer of her most 
 wholesome doctrine. 1 
 
 Then the judge asked him if he would plead ? 
 
 But he said only this, That he con¬ 
 fessed that he was an Election- 
 doubter, and that that was the religion that he 
 had ever been brought up in. And said, moreover, 
 If I must die for my religion, I trow, I shall die 
 a martyr, 2 and so I care the less. 
 
 Judge. Then it was replied, To question election, 
 is to overthrow a great doctrine of the 
 
 The Court. . ., P . . , 
 
 gospel; to wit, the omniscience, and 
 power, and will of God; to take away the liberty 
 of God with his creature; to stumble the faith of 
 the town of Mansoul; and to make salvation to 
 depend upon works, and not upon grace. It also 
 belied the word, and disquieted the minds of the 
 men of Mansoul; therefore, by the best of laws he 
 must die. 3 
 
 Then was the Yocation-doubter called, and set 
 The Vocation- to the bar; and his indictment for sub- 
 doubtcr tried. stance was the same with the other, 
 
 only he was particularly charged with denying the 
 calling of Mansoul. 
 
 The judge asked him also what he had to say 
 for himself ? 
 
 So he replied that he never believed that there 
 was any such thing as a distinct and powerful call 
 of God to Mansoul; otherwise than by the general 
 voice of the Word; nor by that neither, otherwise 
 than as it exhorted them to forbear evil, and to 
 
 1 Though ignorant persons cavil and object, we are bold to 
 affirm, that election by free grace is consonant to the whole 
 tenor of Scripture; a comfortable doctrine, exciting to obedi¬ 
 ence. ‘We love him, because he first loved us.’ 1 Jn. iv. 19. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 2 ‘ A martyr ’ is a witness, generally applied among Chris¬ 
 tians to those who seal with their blood a testimony of love to 
 Christ, and are put to death for their attachment to the gos¬ 
 pel ; not like the Jesuits under Elizabeth, they came to poison 
 or destroy her, and to overturn the Government, and were put 
 to death as traitors. But if any Christian was put to death 
 for doubting the doctrine of election, he would be entitled to 
 the crown of martyrdom.—(E d.) 
 
 do that which is good, and in so doing, a promise 
 of happiness is annexed. 
 
 Then said the Judge, Thou art a Diabolonian; 
 and hast denied a great part of one of the most 
 experimental truths of the Prince of the town of 
 Mansoul; for he has called, and she has heard a 
 most distinct and powerful call of her Emmanuel, 
 by which she has been quickened, awakened, 
 and possessed with heavenly grace to desire to 
 have communion with her Prince, to serve him, 
 and do his will, and to look for her happiness 
 merely of his good pleasure. 4 And for thine ab¬ 
 horrence of this good doctrine, thou must die the 
 death. 
 
 Then the Grace-doubter was called, and his in¬ 
 dictment was read; and he replied The Grace-doubt- 
 thereto, That though he was of the er tned ' 
 land of Doubting, his father was the offspring of 
 a Pharisee, and lived in good fashion among his 
 neighbours, and that he taught him to believe, 
 and believe it I do, and will, that Mansoul shall 
 never be saved freely by grace. 
 
 Then said the Judge, Why, the law of the 
 Prince is plain: 1. Negatively, Not of works. 
 2. Positively, By grace you are saved. Ro. ffi. Ep. ii. 
 And thy religion settleth in and upon the works 
 of the flesh ; for the works of the law are the works 
 of the flesh. Besides, in saying as thou hast done, 
 thou hast robbed God of his glory, and given it to 
 a sinful man; thou hast robbed Christ of the 
 necessity of his undertaking, and the sufficiency 
 thereof, and hast given both these to the works of 
 the flesh. Thou hast despised the work of the 
 Holy Ghost, and hast magnified the will of the 
 flesh, and of the legal mind. Thou art a Dia¬ 
 bolonian, the son of a Diabolonian; and for thy 
 Diabolonian principles thou must die. 
 
 The court then having proceeded thus far with 
 them, sent out the jury, who forthwith brought 
 them in guilty of death. Then stood up the Re¬ 
 corder, and addressed himself to the prisoners: 
 You, the prisoners at the bar, you Their sentence 
 have been here indicted, and proved todie * 
 guilty of high crimes against Emmanuel our Prince, 
 and against the welfare of the famous town of Man¬ 
 soul ; crimes for which you must be put to death; 
 and die ye accordingly. 5 
 
 3 Those who deny election deny, though perhaps unwittingly, 
 the omniscience and sovereignty of God; and unavoidably as¬ 
 sert, sometimes without perceiving it, that salvation is not of 
 grace but of works.—(Burder.) 
 
 4 The great mass of mankind in Christendom, because they 
 were baptized in infancy, call themselves Christians, and find 
 shelter under these pleas from the necessity of personal prayer¬ 
 ful investigation. They never knew the pangs of the new birth, 
 nor the cry, ‘ What must I do to be saved ?’ or, ‘ Lord, save, 
 1 perish 1’ It is a most extensive and most fatal error, in 
 which myriads of souls have met their doom.— (Ed.) 
 
 5 Thus we are to lay aside every weight, and every beset¬ 
 ting sin, He. xii. 12—whatsoever docs not tend to promote 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 309 
 
 So they were sentenced to the death of the cross; 
 
 The places of The P^ ace ass io lie( l them for execution 
 their death as- was that where Diabolus drew up his 
 
 last army against Mansoul; save only 
 that old Evil-questioning was hanged at the top of 
 Bad-strect, just over against his own door. 1 
 
 [Chapter XVIII.] 
 
 [Contents :— More Diabolonians tried and condemned—The 
 Work concludes with an admirable speech of Emmanuel, 
 reciting his gracious acts, and informing his people of 
 his intention to rebuild the town with the greatest splen¬ 
 dour, and recommending a suitable conduct in the mean¬ 
 time.] 
 
 When the town of Mansoul had thus far rid 
 themselves of their enemies, and of the troublers 
 of their peace; in the next place, a strict com¬ 
 mandment was given out, that yet my Lord Will- 
 be-will should, with Diligence, his man, search for, 
 and do his best to apprehend what town-Diabolon- 
 ians were yet left alive in Mansoul. The names of 
 several of them were—Mr. Fooling, Mr. Let-good- 
 slip, Mr. Slavishfear, Mr. Nolove, Mr. Mistrust, 
 Mr. Flesh, and Mr. Sloth. It was also commanded 
 that he should apprehend Mr. Evil- 
 
 A new warrant ,. . , , i . , . „ , 
 
 granted out a- questioning s children that he left be- 
 
 dren^of C Ev!i- hind him, and that they should demol- 
 
 qnestionmg, ish liis house. The children that he 
 witii otiieis. _ # 
 
 left behind were these—Mr. Doubt, 
 and he was his eldest son ; the next to him was 
 Legal-life, Unbelief, Wrong-thoughts-of-Christ, 
 Clip-promise, Carnal-sense, Live-by-feeling, Self- 
 love. All these lie had by one wife, and her nanie 
 was Nohope. She was the kinswoman of old In¬ 
 credulity ; for he was her uncle, and, when her 
 father, old Dark, was dead, he took her, and 
 brought her up; and, when she was marriageable, 
 he gave her to this old Evil-questioning to wife. 
 Now, the Lord Will-be-will did put into execu- 
 
 Wiii-be-will puts tion llis commission, with great Dili- 
 
 lus warrant in- gence, liis man. He took Fooling in 
 to execution. , _ 1 ° . 
 
 the streets, and hanged him up in 
 Want-wit-alley, over against his own house. This 
 Fooling was he that would have had 
 the town of Mansoul deliver up Cap¬ 
 tain Credence into the hands of Diabolus, provided 
 that then lie would have withdrawn his force out 
 Let-good-slip of the town. He also took Mr. Let- 
 good-slip one day as he was busy in 
 the market, and executed him according to law. 
 
 Fooling taken. 
 
 the glory of God, and our progress in the Divine life of faith. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
 1 The reader must keep in mind that the sentence and exe¬ 
 cution is not against the persons who held these errors, but 
 allegorically the errors themselves must be eradicated or de¬ 
 stroyed from the soul of the believer.— (Ed.) 
 
 Great is the advantage of meditation; a practice, alas! 
 in which Christians in general are too backward. Much i 3 
 lost by letting the Word slip, which ought to be laid up and 
 YOL. III. 
 
 Now there was an honest poor man in Mansoul, 
 and his name was Mr. Meditation, one of no great 
 account in the days of apostacy, but now of repute 
 with the best of the town. This man therefore 
 they were willing to prefer; now Mr. Let-good-slip 
 had a great deal of wealth heretofore in Mansoul, 
 and at Emmanuel’s coming it was sequestered to 
 the use of the Prince, this therefore was now given 
 to Mr. Meditation, to improve for the common good, 
 and after him to his son Mr. Thinkwell; this 
 Thinkwell he had by Mrs. Piety his wife, and she 
 was the daughter of Mr. Recorder. 2 
 
 After this my Lord apprehended Clip-promise, 
 now because he was a notorious villain, clip-promise 
 for by his doings much of the King’s taken - 
 coin was abused, therefore he was made a public 
 example. He was arraigned and judged to be 
 first set in the pillory, then to be vvhipt by all the 
 children and servants in Mansoul, and then to be 
 hanged till he was dead. Some may wonder at 
 the severity of this man’s punishment, but those 
 that are honest traders in Mansoul, are sensible of 
 the great abuse that one clipper of promises in 
 little time may do to the town of Mansoul. And 
 truly my judgment is, that all those of his name 
 and life should be served even as he. 3 * 
 
 He also apprehended Carnal-sense, and put him 
 in hold, but how it came about I can- carnai-sense 
 not tell, but he brake prison and made taken, 
 his escape. Yea, and the bold villain will not yet 
 quit the town, but lurks in the Diabolonian dens a 
 days, and haunts like a ghost honest men’s houses 
 a nights. Wherefore there was a proclamation set 
 up in the market-place in Mansoul, signifying that 
 whosoever should discover Carnal-sense, and ap¬ 
 prehend him and slay him, should be admitted 
 daily to the Prince’s table, and should be made 
 keeper of the treasure of Mansoul. Many there¬ 
 fore did bend themselves to do this thing, but take 
 him and slay him they could not, though often he 
 was discovered. 4 
 
 But my Lord took Mr. Wrong-thoughts-of- 
 Christ, and put him in prison, and Wrong-thou'jhts- 
 he died there, though it was long of-Cimst takeu. 
 
 first, for he died of a lingering consumption. 
 
 Selflove was also taken and committed to cus¬ 
 tody, but there were many that were 
 allied to him in Mansoul, so his judg- Selflo ' e taken - 
 ment was deferred, but at last Mr. Self-denial 
 stood up and said, if such villains as these may be 
 
 pondered in the heart. This is the way to become spiritually 
 
 rich.—(Burder.) 
 
 3 The cruelty of these punishments breathes the spirit of the 
 times in which our author lived. Every painful feeling, how¬ 
 ever, is dissipated by the reflection that it is an allegory, 
 representing how these Diabolonian sinful thoughts ought to 
 be exterminated. To clip the promises is certainly as high a 
 crime as clipping the current coin.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 How closely does carnality cleave to us throughout our 
 
 47 
 
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 370 
 
 THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 winked at in Mansoul, I will lay down my com¬ 
 mission. He also took him from the crowd, and 
 had him among his soldiers, and there he was 
 brained. But some in Mansoul muttered at it, 
 though none durst speak plainly, because Em¬ 
 manuel was in town. But this brave act of Cap¬ 
 tain Self-denial came to the Prince’s ears, so he 
 sent for him, and made him a Lord 
 denial made a in Mansoul. 1 My Lord Will-be-will' 
 Lo:d ‘ also obtained great commendations of 
 
 Emmanuel, for what he had done for the town ot 
 Mansoul. 
 
 Then my Lord Self-denial took courage, and set 
 to pursuing of the Diabolonians with my Lord 
 Live-by-feeiing Will-be-will; and they took Live-by- 
 taken. feeling, and they took Legal-life, and 
 put them in hold till they died. But Mr. Unbe- j 
 lief was a nimble jack, him they could never lay 
 hold of, though they attempted to do it often. He 
 therefore, and some few more of the subtilest of 
 the Diabolonian tribe, did yet remain in Mansoul, 
 to the time that Mansoul left off to dwell any 
 longer in the kingdom of Universe. But they 
 kept them to their dens and holes; if one of them 
 did appear or happen to be seen in any of the 
 streets of the town of Mansoul, the whole town 
 would be up in arms after them, yea the very 
 children in Mansoul would cry out after them as 
 after a thief, and would wish that they might stone 
 them to death with stones. And now did Mansoul 
 The peace of arrive to some good degree of peace 
 mma s 0u1, her an( * quiet, her Prince also did abide 
 trade. within her borders, her Captains also, 
 
 and her soldiers did their duties, and Mansoul 
 minded her trade that she had with the country 
 that was afar off; also she was busy in her manu¬ 
 facture. 2 Is. xxxiii. 17. Phi. iii. 20. Pr. xxxi. 
 
 When the town of Mansoul had thus far rid 
 themselves of so many of their enemies, and the 
 troublers of their peace ; the Prince sent to them, 
 and appointed a day wherein he would at the 
 market-place meet the whole people, and there 
 give them in charge concerning some further mat¬ 
 ters, that if observed would tend to their further 
 safet}^ and comfort, and to the condemnation and 
 destruction of their home-bred Diabolonians. So 
 the day appointed was come, and the townsmen 
 met together; Emmanuel also came down in his 
 
 chariot, and all his captains in their state attend¬ 
 ing;* of him on the right hand, and on the left. 
 Then was an 0 yes made for silence, and after 
 some mutual carriages of love, the Prince began, 
 and thus proceeded— 
 
 You my Mansoul, and the beloved of mine heart, 
 many and great are the privileges that Emmanuel's 
 I have bestowed upon you; I have speech to 
 singled vou out from others, and have 
 chosen you to myself, not for your worthiness, but 
 for mine own sake. I have also redeemed you, 
 not only from the dread of my Father’s law, but 
 from the hand of Diabolus. This I have done 
 because I loved you, and because I have set my 
 heart upon you to do you good. I have also, 
 that all things that might hinder thy way to the 
 pleasures of paradise might be taken out of the 
 way, laid down for thee, for thy soul, a plenary 
 satisfaction, and have bought thee to myself; a 
 price not of corruptible things as of silver and gold, 
 but a price of blood, mine own blood, which I have 
 freely spilt upon the ground to make thee mine. 
 So I have reconciled thee, 0 my Mansoul, to my 
 Father, and intrusted thee in the mansion-houses 
 that are with my Father in the royal city where 
 things are, 0 my Mansoul, that eye hath not seen, 
 nor hath entered into the heart of man to conceive. 3 
 
 Besides, 0 my Mansoul, thou seest what I have 
 done, and how I have taken thee out of the hands 
 of thine enemies; unto whom thou hast deeply re¬ 
 volted from my Father, and by whom thou wast 
 content to be possessed, and also to be destroyed. 
 
 I came to thee first by my law, then by my gospel 
 to awaken thee, and show thee my glory. And 
 thou knowest what thou wast, what thou saidst, 
 what thou didst, and how many times thou re- 
 belledst against my Father and me; yet I left thee 
 not; as thou seest this day, but came to thee, have 
 borne thy manners, have waited upon thee and after 
 all accepted of thee, even of my mere grace and 
 favour; and would not suffer thee to be lost, as 
 thou most willingly wouldst have been. I also 
 compassed thee about, and afflicted thee on every 
 side, that I might make thee weary of thy ways, 
 and bring down thy heart with molestation to a 
 willingness to close with thy good and happiness. 
 And when I had gotten a complete conquest over 
 thee, I turned it to thy advantage. 4 
 
 pilgrimage! Even the apostle complained of this foe—‘ I am 
 carnal.’ The grave is the only secure prison in which he can 
 be for ever shut up. He will never break prison from thence. 
 -(Ed.) . , . , 
 
 1 Self-love and self-denial can no more live together m the 
 soul, than can the service of God and mammon. Reader, if a 
 thought of self-love interferes with love to Christ, drag it to 
 self-denial, and it will be brained without the formality of a 
 trial, and God will approve the execution.—(E d.) 
 
 2 Self-denial must be opposed to self-love. ‘If, through the 
 Spirit, we mortify the deeds of the body, we shall live;’ and 
 shall also happily experience that * to be spiritually-minded is 
 
 life and peace.’ But, after all, that villain Unbelief, the worst 
 of all the gang, still lurks secretly in the sold, yet is uniformly 
 
 opposed whenever he dares to appear.—(Burder.) 
 
 3 ‘There I shall bathe my weary soul 
 In seas of heavenly rest, 
 
 And not a wave of trouble roll 
 
 Across my peaceful breast.’—(Watts.) 
 
 ‘ Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly 1 ’—(Ed.) 
 
 4 Thus completely is boasting excluded. * By grace are ye 
 saved, through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift 
 of God.’ Ep. ii. 8 .—(Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY WAIL 
 
 Thou sccst also wliat a company of my Father’s 
 host I have lodged within thy borders, captains 
 and rulers, soldiers and men of war, engines and 
 excellent devices to subdue and bring down thy 
 foes; thou knowest my meaning, 0 Mansoul. And 
 they are my servants, and thine too, Mansoul. 
 Yea, my design of possessing of thee with them, 
 and the natural tendency of each of them is to 
 defend, purge, strengthen, and sweeten thee for 
 myself, 0 Mansoul, and to make thee meet for my 
 Father’s presence, blessing, and glory; for thou, 
 my Mansoul, art created to be prepared unto these. 
 
 Thou seest moreover, my Mansoul, how 1 have 
 passed by thy backslidings, and have healed thee. 
 Indeed I was angry with thee, but 1 have turned 
 mine anger away from thee, because I loved thee 
 still, and mine anger and mine indignation is ceased 
 in the destruction of thine enemies, 0 Mansoul. 
 For did thy goodness fetch me again unto thee, 
 after that I for thy transgressions have hid my 
 face, and withdrawn my presence from thee. The 
 way of backsliding was thine, but the way and 
 means of thy recovery was mine. I invented the 
 means of thy return ; it was I that made an hedge 
 and a wall, when thou wast beginning to turn to 
 things in which I delighted not. It was I that 
 made thy sweet, bitter; thy day, night; thy smooth 
 ways thorny; and that also confounded all that 
 sought thy destruction. It was I that set Mr. 
 Godly-fear to work in Mansoul. It was I that 
 stirred up thy conscience and understanding, thv 
 will and thy affections, after thy great and woful 
 decay. It was I that put life into thee, 0 Man¬ 
 soul, to seek me, that thou mightest find me, and 
 in thy finding, find thine own health, happiness, 
 and salvation. It was I that fetched the second 
 time the Diabolonians out of Mansoul; and it was 
 I that overcame them, and that destroyed them 
 before thy face. 
 
 And now, my Mansoul, I am returned to thee 
 in peace, and thy transgressions against me, are 
 as if they had not been. Nor shall it be with thee 
 as in former days, but I will do better for thee 
 than at thy beginning. For yet a little while, 0 
 my Mansoul, even after a few more times are gone 
 over thy head, I will, but be not thou troubled at 
 what I say, I will take down this famous town of 
 Mansoul, stick and stone to the ground, ich. xxix. 30. 
 And will carry the stones thereof, and the timber 
 thereof, and the w r alls thereof, and the dust thereof, 
 and the inhabitants thereof, into mine own country, 
 even into the kingdom of my Father; and will 
 there set it up in such strength and glory, as it 
 never did see in the kingdom where now it is 
 
 i a ^ 01 a , lnosl a( lrairable treatise on the resurrection of the 
 g * ’ , an< re-union with the soul in bliss unspeakable and 
 eternal, see vol. ii. p. 83.— (Ed.) 
 
 cs r> •i 
 
 G / 1 
 
 placed. 1 I will even there set it up for my Father’s 
 habitation, for, for that purpose it was at first 
 erected in the kingdom of universe; and there will 
 I make it a spectacle of wonder, a monument of 
 mercy, and the admirer of its own mercy. There 
 shall the natives of Mansoul see all that of which 
 they have seen nothing here; there shall they be 
 equal to those unto whom they have been inferior 
 here. And there shall thou, 0 my Mansoul, have 
 such communion with me, with my Father, and 
 with your Lord Secretary, as is not possible here 
 to be enjoyed, nor ever could be, shouldest thou 
 live in universe the space of a thousand years. ? 
 
 And there, 0 my Mansoul, thou shalt be afraid 
 of murderers no mere; cf Diabolonians, and their 
 threats no more. There, there shall be no more 
 plots, nor contrivances, nor designs against thee, 
 0 my Mansoul. There thou shalt no more hear 
 the evil tidings, or the noise of the Diabolonian 
 drum. There thou shalt not see the Diabolonian 
 Standard-bearers, nor yet behold Diabolus his 
 standard. No Diabolonian mount shall be cast up 
 against thee there, nor shall there the Diabolonian 
 standard be set up to make thee afraid. There 
 thou shalt not need captains, engines, soldiers, and 
 men of war. There thou shalt meet with no sor¬ 
 row, nor grief, nor shall it be possible that any 
 Diabolonian should again, for ever, be able to creep 
 into thy skirts, burrow in thy walls, or be seen 
 again within thy borders all the days of eternity. 
 Life shall there last longer, than here you are able 
 to desire it should, and yet it shall always be sweet 
 and new, nor shall any impediment attend it fo’r 
 ever. 
 
 There, 0 Mansoul, thou shalt meet with many 
 of those that have been like thee, and that have 
 been partakers of thy sorrows ; even such as I have 
 chosen, and redeemed and set apart as tliou for 
 my Father’s court and city royal. All they will 
 be glad in thee, and thou, when thou seest them, 
 shall be glad in thine heart. 
 
 There are things, 0 Mansoul, even things of thy 
 Father’s providing and mine, that never were seen 
 since the beginning of the world; and they are 
 laid up with my Father, and se'aled up among his 
 treasures for thee, till thou shalt Come thither to 
 enjoy them. I told you before that I would re¬ 
 move my Mansoul, and set it up elsewhere, and 
 where I will set it, there are those that love thee, 
 and those that rejoice in thee now, but how much 
 more when they shall see thee exalted to honour. 
 My Father will then send them for you to fetch 
 you; and their bosoms are chariots to put you in. 
 And you, 0 my Mansoul, shall ride upon the wings 
 
 2 ‘Blessings abound where’er he reigns, 
 
 The prisoner leaps to lose his chains. 
 
 The weary find eternal rest, 
 
 And all the sons of want are blest.’—(Watts.) 
 
THE HOLY WAR. 
 
 372 
 
 of the wind. They will come to convey, conduct, 
 and bring you to that, when your eyes see more, 
 that will be your desired haven. Ps. lxviii. 17. 
 
 And thus, 0 my Mansoul, I have showed unto 
 thee what shall be done to thee hereafter, if thou 
 canst hear, if thou canst understand; and now I 
 will tell thee what at present must be thy duty and 
 practice, until I shall come and fetch thee to my¬ 
 self, according as is related in the Scriptures of* 
 truth. 
 
 First, I charge thee that thou dost hereafter 
 keep more white and clean the liveries which I 
 gave thee before my last withdrawing from thee. 
 Do it, I say, for this "will be thy wisdom. They 
 are in themselves fine linen, but thou must keep 
 them white and clean. 1 This will be your wisdom, 
 your honour, and will be greatly for my glory. 
 When your garments are white, the world will 
 count you mine. Also when your garments are 
 white, then I am delighted in your ways ; for then 
 your goings to and fro will be like a flash of light¬ 
 ning, that those that are present must take notice 
 of, also their eyes will be made to dazzle thereat. 
 Deck thyself therefore according to my bidding, 
 and make to thyself by my law straight steps for 
 thy feet, so shall thy King greatly desire thy 
 beauty, for he is thy Lord, and worship thou him. 2 
 
 Now that thou mayest keep them as I bid thee, 
 
 I have, as I before did tell thee, provided for thee 
 an open fountain to wash thy garments in. Look 
 therefore that thou wash often in my fountain, and 
 go not in defiled garments; for as it is to my dis¬ 
 honour and my disgrace, so it will be to thy dis¬ 
 comfort, when you shall walk in filthy garments. 
 Ze. iii. 3, 4. Let not therefore my garments, your 
 garments, the garments that I gave thee, be defiled 
 or spotted by the flesh. Jude 23. Keep thy garments 
 always white, and let thy head lack no ointment. 
 
 My Mansoul, 1 have oft-times delivered thee 
 from the designs, plots, attempts, and conspiracies 
 of Diabolus, and for all this I ask thee nothing, 
 but that thou render not to me evil for my good, 
 but that thou bear in mind my love, and the con¬ 
 tinuation of my kindness to my beloved Mansoul, 
 so as to provoke thee to walk, in thy measure, 
 according to the benefit bestowed on thee. Of old 
 the sacrifices were bound with cords to the horns 
 of the golden altar. Consider what is said to thee, 
 0 my blessed Mansoul. 
 
 0 my Mansoul, I have lived, I have died, I live, 
 and will die no more for thee. 1 live that thou 
 
 1 Holiness of heart and life are indispensable of true disciple- 
 ship to the holy Jesus; not to justify us, but to evidence our 
 election to eternal life. ‘ As he which hath called you is holy, 
 so be ye holy in all manner of conversation.’ 1 Pe. i. 15. A 
 holy walk preserves communion with our Lord, who is our 
 righteousness and strength.—(Mason.) 
 
 3 How blessed are those who are kept unspotted from the 
 w'orld 1 who live in the land of Beulah, waiting to be trans¬ 
 
 may est not die. Because I live thou shaft live 
 also. I reconciled thee to my Father by the blood 
 of my cross, and being reconciled thou shalt live 
 through me. I will pray for thee, I will fight for 
 thee, I will yet do thee good. 
 
 Nothing can hurt thee but sin; nothing can 
 grieve me but sin; nothing can make thee base 
 before thy foes but sin; Take heed of sin, my 
 Mansoul. 3 
 
 And dost thou know why I at first, and do still 
 suffer Diabolonians to dwell in thy walls, 0 Man- J 
 soul? It is to keep thee wakening, to try thy love, 
 to make thee watchful, and to cause thee yet to 
 prize my noble captains, their soldiers, and my 
 mercy. 
 
 It' is also that yet thou mayest be made to re¬ 
 member what a deplorable condition thou once wast 
 in. I mean when, not some, but all did dwell, not 
 in thy walls, but in thy castle, and in thy strong 
 hold, 0 Mansoul! 
 
 0 my Mansoul, should I slay all them within, 
 many there be without that would bring thee into 
 bondage; for were all those within cut off, those 
 without would find thee sleeping, and then as in a 
 moment they would swallow up my Mansoul. I 
 therefore let them in thee, not to do thee hurt, the / 
 which they yet will, if thou hearken to them, and 
 serve them; but to do thee good, the which they 
 must, if thou watch and fight against them. Know 
 therefore that whatever they shall tempt thee to, 
 my design is that they should drive thee, not 
 further off, but nearer to my Father, to learn thee 
 war, to make petitioning desirable to thee, and to 
 make thee little in thine own eyes. Hearken 
 diligently to this, my Mansoul. 
 
 Show me then thy love my Mansoul, and let not 
 those that are within thy walls, take thy affections 
 off from him that hath redeemed thy soul. Yea, 
 let the sight of a Diabolonian heighten thy love to 
 me. I came once, and twice, and thrice to save 
 thee from the poison of those arrows that would 
 have wrought thy death; stand for me, thy friend, 
 my Mansoul, against the Diabolonians, and I will 
 stand for thee before my Father, and all his court. 
 Love me against temptation, and I will love thee 
 notwithstanding thine infirmities. 
 
 0 my Mansoul, remember what my captains, 
 my soldiers, and mine engines have done for thee. 
 They have fought for thee, they have suffered by 
 thee, they have born much at thy hands to do thee 
 
 lated to the celestial city; and who, if defiled, are enabled to 
 apply to the fountain opened, and wash away their stains. 
 
 * Blessed are the people that are in such a case.’—(E d.) 
 
 3 Sin hurled the angels out of heaven; sin deprived man of 
 paradise and the favour of God ; sin crucified the Lord of life 
 and glory; sin will confine myriads of devils and men in the 
 bottomless pit of misery for ever. May we hate it with a 
 perfect hatred; and the grace of Jesus eradicate the love, and 
 destroy the dominion of it, in our hearts.—(Mason.) 
 
TIIE HOLY WAll. 
 
 good, 0 Mansoul. Iladsfc thou not had them to 
 help thee, Diabolus had certainly made a hand of 
 thee. 1 Nourish them, therefore, my Mansoul. When 
 thou dost well, they will be well; when thou dost 
 ill, they will be ill, and sick, and weak. Make 
 _ _ not my captains sick, 0 Mansoul, for if they 
 be sick, thou canst not be well; if they be 
 weak, thou canst not be strong ; if they be faint, 
 thou canst not be stout and valiant for thy King, 
 0 Mansoul. Nor must thou think always to live 
 by sense, thou must live upon my Word. Thou, 
 must believe, 0 my Mansoul, when I am from thee, 
 
 1 ‘ To make a hand on,’ to waste, spoil, or destroy.—Halli- 
 well.—(E d.) 
 
 2 In this truly evangelical speech, the Lord Jesus is repre¬ 
 sented as recapitulating his gracious dealings with the souls of 
 his people. Salvation is uniformly ascribed to the free mercy 
 of the Father, and the precious blood of the Son. Every 
 gracious soul will cordially say, ‘ Not unto me, not unto me, 
 O Lord, but to thy name be all the glory.’ Emmanuel then 
 
 378 
 
 that yet I love thee, and bear thee upon mine heart 
 for ever. 
 
 Remember therefore, 0 my Mansoul, that thou 
 art beloved of me; as I have therefore taught thee 
 to watch, to fight, to pray, and to make war 
 against my foes, so now I command thee to believo 
 that my love is constant to thee. 0 my Mansoul, 
 how have I set my heart, my love upon thee, watch. 
 Behold, I lay none other burden upon thee, than 
 what thou hast already, hold fast till I come. 2 
 
 informs them of his intention to take down the present town 
 of Mansoul, and to rebuild it in a more glorious manner; in 
 other words, to remove the believer to glory, and raise up his 
 mortal body to everlasting honour and happiness, when sin, 
 sorrow, and temptation shall never more be known. Till this 
 event takes place, he directs his people to keep their garments 
 white and clean—that is, to be holy in all manner of conver¬ 
 sation and godliness; to watch carefully against sin, which is 
 the only thing that can hurt them; and to live every day [in 
 holiness and good works] by faith in the Word of God.—- 
 (Burder.) 
 
AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER. 
 
 Some say the Pilgrim’s Progress is not mine. 
 
 Insinuating as if I would shine 
 
 In name and fame by the worth of another, 
 
 Like some made rich by robbing of their brother. 
 Or that so fond I am of being sire, 
 
 I’ll father bastards; or, if need require, 
 
 I’ll tell a lie in print to get applause. 
 
 I scorn it: John such dirt-heap never was, 
 
 Since God converted him. Let this suffice 
 To show why I my Pilgrim patronize. 
 
 It came from mine own heart, so to my head, 
 And thence into my fingers trickled; 
 
 Then to my pen, from whence immediately 
 On paper I did dribble it daintily. 
 
 Manner and matter too was all mine own, 
 
 Nor was it unto any mortal known. 
 
 ’Till I had done it. Nor did any then 
 By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen, 
 Add five words to it, or write half a lin e 
 Thereof: the whole, and every whit, is mine. 
 
 Also, for this thine eye is now upon, 
 
 The matter in this maimer came from none 
 But the same heart, and head, fingers, and pen, 
 As did the other. Witness all good men; 
 
 For none in all the world, without a lie, 
 
 Can say that this is mine, excepting I. 
 
 I write not this of any ostentation, 
 
 Nor ’cause I seek of men their commendation; 
 
 I do it to keep them from such surmise, 
 
 As tempt them will my name to scandalize. 
 Witness my name, if anagram’d to thee, 
 
 The letters make, Nu hony in a B. 
 
 John Bun van. 
 
) 
 
 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN; 
 
 OR, 
 
 A DESCRIPTION OE THE MAN THAT GETS TO HEAVEN: 
 
 TOGETHER WITH THE WAY IIE RUNS IN, THE MARKS IIE GOES BY ; ALSO, SOME DIRECTIONS HOW TO 
 
 RUN SO AS TO OBTAIN. 
 
 * And it came to pass, when they had brought them forth abroad, that he said, Escape for thy life; loolc not behind thee , 
 neither stay thou in all the plain: escape to the mountain , lest thou be consumed .’—Gen. six. 17. 
 
 London: Printed for John Marshall, at the Bible in Gracechurch Street, 1698. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 About forty years ago a gentleman, in whose com¬ 
 pany I had commenced my pilgrimage, and who 
 had joined me in communion with a Baptist church, 
 about four years previously, came to my house one 
 Monday morning, greatly delighted with the sermon 
 which our pastor had preached on the previous day, 
 while I was engaged in superintending the Sunday 
 school. It had caused a very remarkable sensation, 
 which, if properly followed up, bid fair to occasion 
 an extraordinary revival of religion in the neigh¬ 
 bourhood. He, with the deacons, had begged of 
 our minister to fill up his outline, and prepare the 
 sermon for publication, to which he had consented. 
 He wished to ascertain from me, as a publisher, 
 the expense of printing five thousand copies, being 
 sure that the sale of it would be unprecedented, 
 not only throughout the kingdom, but as far as 
 the English language was spoken. In about a 
 week, the copy fairly written was left with me. 
 The text was Heb. xii. 1, ‘ Let us run with patience 
 the race that is set before us.’ After the intro¬ 
 duction that all men desire heaven, but all do 
 not run for it—the word run was explained as a 
 flying, pressing, persevering. Then seven reasons, 
 and nine directions, were followed by nine motives 
 and nine uses. This, and the striking ideas and 
 language of the sermon, brought Bunyan to my re¬ 
 collection, and, on comparison, it proved to be the 
 Heavenly Footman, with very slight alterations. 
 Having then very recently purchased a neat edition 
 of the book, at a very low price, my inquiry was, 
 whether they would not prefer having the book in 
 its genuine state, especially as it was ready for 
 delivery. I need not add, that all thoughts of 
 circulating the sermon was at once abandoned. 
 In conversation with my excellent pastor, who 
 afterwards for many years bore the honour of a 
 D.D., he acknowledged his obligation to me for 
 detecting the plagiarism before the sermon was 
 published, and explained to me that, when very 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 young, he had read Bunyan’s Heavenly Footman 
 with intense interest, and made a full analysis of it, 
 in the shape of notes, which, having committed to 
 memory, he preached to a very delighted and deeply 
 impressed congregation ; that after a lapse of many 
 years, looking over the outlines of his early ser¬ 
 mons, he was struck with it, and believing it to be 
 his own composition, had again used it with such 
 extraordinary success, as led his deacons and mem¬ 
 bers to request him to print it. Doubtless Bunyan 
 being dead has often similarly spoken—may his 
 voice never be lost in silence or be forgotten. 
 
 The title of 4 Heavenly Footman’ was probably 
 suggested by the words of the prophet Jeremiah, 
 4 If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have 
 wearied thee, then how canst thou contend with 
 horses ? And in the land of peace thou trustedst, 
 then how wilt thou do in the swelling; of J ordan ? ’ 
 xii. 5, and 4 Let us run with patience the race that 
 is set before us.’ Heb. xii. l. The word footman 
 does not refer to that class of servants who are 
 badged and dressed in livery to gratify the pride 
 of their masters, nor to that description of foot- 
 soldiers or infantry, whose business is designated 
 by the blood-stained colour of their clothes. But 
 it refers to those who are travelling on foot to a 
 distant country, engaged on a pilgrimage from 
 earth to heaven. It is worthy of remark, that the 
 whole of the children of God, of every age and 
 clime, class and kindred, the richest and the 
 poorest, all are upon terms of perfect equality in 
 running the race set before them. No wealth, nor 
 grade, can procure a horse to carry them, or a car¬ 
 riage to ride in ; all must run on foot. The only 
 carriage for the foot-sore, weary pilgrim, is the 
 bosom of Christ; he carries the lambs in his 
 bosom, and there is room enough for all ; the 
 poorest labourer and the noblest aristocrat meet 
 there upon a level with each other; there is no 
 first class for the rich, and parliamentary train 
 
376 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 for the poor. It is all first class. In the 
 varied adventures of Christian and liis associates, 
 and of Christiana, her children, and her lovely 
 friend Mercy, they never ride. The little one 
 is led by the hand up the steep and rough hill 
 Difficulty, but his own feet carry him throughout 
 the wearisome road. The only carriage was 
 the fiery chariot which carried the soul of the 
 martyred Faithful to the Celestial City; there is 
 no riding to heaven while in the body. Wealth 
 may procure many pleasures to clog the soul in its 
 journey. It may purchase indulgencies; it may 
 incline some disciples to look at sinful imperfec¬ 
 tions through the wrong end of the telescope; it 
 may purchase prayers—but devotional exercises, 
 bought by gold, will freeze the soul. It is the 
 poor disciple that receives the faithful admonitions 
 of his equally poor fellow-saints. The richJiave 
 more ceremony, while the labourer enjoys more 
 richly, more free from restraint, the warm out¬ 
 pourings of a devotional spirit. Still there is no¬ 
 thing to prevent the greatest nobleman or monarch 
 from running to heaven in company with the dis¬ 
 ciples of our lowly Master. If he refuses this road 
 and this company, he must pursue his downward 
 course to destruction. 
 
 The order in which the allegorical works of 
 Bunyan were written, very naturally suggest itself 
 from his own narratives, and from the dates of 
 their publication. It was thus, while suffering his 
 tedious and dangerous imprisonment for Christ’s 
 sake, he was led to write an account of the deal¬ 
 ings of God with his soul, which work he published 
 in 1666, under the title of Grace Abounding to the 
 Chief of Sinners. While engaged in writing this 
 remarkable narrative, the almost unbounded alle¬ 
 gorical powers of his mind were brought into 
 exercise — 
 
 * 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.’ 
 
 Having finished his Grace Abounding , he allowed 
 his fertile imagination its full scope, and again wrote 
 the result of his experience in the form of an alle¬ 
 gorical narrative, called the Pilgrim's Progress from 
 this World to that which is to Come. At first the 
 thoughts pressed upon him as fast as he could write 
 them, yet he says— 
 
 ‘ —-I did not think 
 
 To show to all the world my pen and ink 
 In such a mode.’ 
 
 And it was several years before he ventured to 
 publish his beautiful allegory. He was released 
 from prison in 1672, having been chosen in the 
 previous year to be the pastor, or ministering elder 
 of the church at Bedford. His time was then 
 much occupied in re-organizing the church, after 
 
 years of tempest and fiery persecution. At length, 
 having overcome his own and his friends’ reluctance 
 to publish so solemn a work on the conversion of 
 a sinner and his way to heaven, in the form of an 
 allegory, the Pilgrim's Progress was printed in 
 1678. The wonderful popularity of this book, and 
 the great good it produced,, led him again to turn 
 his Grace Abounding into a different form of narra¬ 
 tive, in the more profound allegory of the Holy 
 War; this was published in 1682, and in two 
 years afterwards he completed the Pilgrim by a 
 delightful second part. His long incarceration, 
 followed by sudden and great activity, probably 
 brought down his robust constitution; and as the 
 end of his course drew nigh, he was doubly diligent, 
 for in 1688, before his death-day, which was in 
 August, he published six important treatises, and 
 had prepared fourteen or fifteen others for the 
 press. Among these were his final and almost 
 dying instructions to the pilgrim, under the title 
 of The Heavenly Footman , the man whom he 
 describes in the poetical apology to the Pilgrim's 
 Progress, as he that 
 
 -‘Runs and runs. 
 
 Till he unto the gate of glory comes.’ 
 
 This treatise sheds a lustre over the latter days of 
 our immortal allegorist. It is evidently the pro¬ 
 duction of a mind expanded and chastened with 
 the rich experience of sanctified age. In it wo 
 are reminded of those important directions to 
 heavenly footmen, contained in his most admired 
 books. Is there a Slough of Despond to be passed, 
 and a hill Difficulty to be overcome? Here the 
 footman is reminded of ‘ many a dirty step, many 
 a high hill, a long and tedious journey through a 
 vast howling wildernessbut he is encouraged, 
 ‘ the land of promise is at the end of the way.’ 
 p. 382. Must the man that would win eternal 
 glory draw his sword, put on his helmet, and 
 fight his way into the temple—the heavenly foot¬ 
 man must press, crowd, and thrust through all 
 that stand between heaven and his soul. p. 381. 
 Did Ignorance, who perished from the way, say 
 to the pilgrims, ‘You go so fast, I must stay 
 awhile behind?’ He who runs to heaven is 
 told that the heavy-heeled, lazy, wanton, and 
 foolish professor will not attain the prize, p. 382. 
 The wicket-gate, at the head of the way, is all- 
 important ; none can get to heaven unless they 
 enter by Christ, the door and way, so the footman 
 is reminded that it matters not how fast he runs, he 
 can never attain the prize, if he is in the wrong road, 
 p. 382. Did the pilgrims so severely suffer from en¬ 
 tering upon Byepath-meadow, and even after that 
 bitter experience were they again misled into a bye 
 path, by a black man clothed in white raiment ? Our 
 footman is warned—Beware then of bye and crooked 
 
ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 377 
 
 paths that lead to death and damnation; the way to 
 heaven is one, still there are many well-beaten bye- 
 patlis that butt or shoot down upon it, and which 
 lead to destruction, p. 384. To prevent vain and 
 foolish company from calling you out of the path, 
 or from loitering in it, say, I am in haste, I am 
 running for a prize; if I win I am made, I win all; 
 if I lose I lose all, and am undone, p. 386. So it 
 was with Faithful when even Christian, who saw 
 him before, cried Ho ho, so ho. Faithful answered, 
 
 ‘ No, I am upon my life, the avenger of blood is 
 behind me.’ In the same way the pilgrims refused 
 the invitations of Demas with his silver mine. No, 
 says the heavenly footman, I am running for 
 heaven, for my soul, for God, for Christ, from hell 
 and everlasting damnation, p. 386. Did the poor 
 pilgrims go grunting, puffing, and sighing, one 
 tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the 
 dirt, one cries out, I am down, and another, Ho! 
 where are you ? Pilgrim s Progress, p. 236. So the 
 footman is told that he will ‘ meet with cross, pain, 
 and wearisomeness to the flesh, with briars and 
 quagmires, and other encumbrances,’ through all 
 which he must persevere, p.387. Did Formalist and 
 Hypocrite turn off into bye-ways at the foot of the 
 hill Difficulty, and miserably perish ? Did Mistrust 
 and Timorous run back for fear of the persecuting 
 lions, Church and State? So the man that runs 
 for heaven is cautioned—‘ Some when they come 
 at the cross can go no further, but back again to 
 their sins they go, stumble and break their necks, 
 or turn aside to the left or to the right, and perish.’ 
 p. 388. Be not ready to halt, nor run hobbling and 
 halting, but, like my Lord Will-be-will in the Holy 
 War, when fighting against Diabolus, get thy will 
 tipt with heavenly grace, and go full speed for 
 heaven. These quotations tend to prove that this 
 invaluable treatise is a summary of the guide books 
 which Bunyan had before written. It was doubt¬ 
 less one of the last productions of his prolific pen. 
 
 Two passages in the Heavenly Footman appear 
 to favour the idea, that a period in life is, in some 
 cases, fixed, beyond which there is no repentance; 
 thus in p. 373, in a solemn warning against procras¬ 
 tination he says, ‘ Dost thou know whether the day 
 of grace will last a week longer or no ? For the 
 day of grace is past with some before their life is 
 endedand p. 382, ‘ sometimes sinners have not 
 heaven gates open to them so long as they suppose; 
 and if they be once shut against a man, they are 
 so heavy that all the men in the world, nor all the 
 angels in heaven, can open them. Francis Spira 
 can tell thee what it is to stay till the gate of 
 mercy be quite shut.’ It becomes an interesting 
 inquiry as to who Bunyan means by the ‘ some’ of 
 whom he says, ‘ that the day of grace is past be¬ 
 fore their life is ended.’ This cannot refer to those 
 who, neglecting the Saviour, are in a perishing con- [ 
 vol. nr. 
 
 dition. No minister felt a more ardent desire to 
 rouse them to a sense of their danger and to guard 
 them against despair than John Bunyan. In his 
 Jerusalem Sinner Saved he thus argues ‘ Why des¬ 
 pair ? thou art yet in the land of the living.’ ‘ It 
 is a sin to begin to despair before one sets his foot 
 over the threshhold of hell gates.’ ‘ What, despair 
 of bread in a land that is full of corn ? Despair of 
 mercy when our God is full of mercy, thou scrupu¬ 
 lous fool; despair when we have a redeeming Christ 
 alive. Let them despair that dwell where there is 
 no God, and that are confined to those chambers of 
 death which can be reached by no redemption. In 
 Bunyan’s Come and Welcome, he proves that it would 
 be ‘ high blasphemy and damnable wickedness’ to 
 imagine that Christ would cast out any that come to 
 God by him. He cannot mean the backslider, for 
 Bunyan was such. David also, to an awful extent, 
 and Peter to the denial of his Lord. No, he may 
 mean those who, while neglecting the Saviour, are 
 overtaken by madness, or more probably to such as 
 Judas, Spira, and others who sell their Master, or 
 renounce him. If a man abandons the Saviour, 
 there is no other name under heaven whereby he can 
 be saved; ‘ there remaineth no more sacrifice for 
 sin;’ he is a despiser of God’s way of salvation, and 
 tramples under foot the Son of God. While such 
 a career continues, fiery indignation must be his 
 wretched destiny. They who contemn the heavenly 
 gift—the Holy Ghost—the word of God—the powers 
 of the world to come—if they persevere unto death 
 in such sentiments, the day of grace is past. There 
 have been some who, like Esau, having sold their 
 birthright, sought repentance even with tears, but 
 found it not—they sought it not in God’s appointed 
 way. All hope depends upon such sinners coming 
 unto Christ, humbled and broken-hearted. He is 
 willing, He is able to save even then to the utter¬ 
 most, but they will not.’ He has promised, and 
 will perform his word, ‘ him that cometh to me I 
 will in nowise cast out.’ The volume of inspira¬ 
 tion is crowned at its close with the same cheering 
 encouragement, ‘ And the Spirit and the bride say. 
 Come. And let him that is athirst come. And 
 whosoever will, let him take the water of life 
 freely.’ I cannot imagine that any man would 
 have sung with greater pleasure than Bunyan that 
 hymn of Dr. Watts’— 
 
 * Life is the time to serve the Lord, 
 
 The time to insure the great reward; 
 
 And while the lamp holds out to burn. 
 
 The vilest sinner may return.’ 
 
 They only who reject the counsel and mercy of 
 God, shut heaven’s gates against their own souls, 
 and rush upon Jehovah’s bucklerlike Judas, orSpira, 
 or like one of Bunyan’s early friends, John Childs, 
 who apostatized for fear of persecution, and perished 
 by his own hand. To such only the day of grace 
 
 48 
 
878 
 
 EPISTLE TO SLOTHFUL AND CARELESS PEOPLE. 
 
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 is past; they have set themselves in the scorner's 
 seat, from which they will he hurled into unutter¬ 
 able wretchedness. 
 
 Bunyan well knew that idleness engenders 
 poverty and crime, and is the parent of every evil; 
 and he exhorts his runner to the greatest diligence, 
 not to ‘ fool away his soul ’ in slothfulness, which 
 induces carelessness, until the sinner is remedyless. 
 Our first care is to get into the right way, and then 
 so to run that * the devil, who is light of foot,’ may 
 not overtake and trip us up. Running to heaven 
 does not prevent the true, the real enjoyment of 
 earthly blessings, but sanctifies and heightens them. 
 The great impetus in our course is love to the 
 prize—to Christ, to heaven; ‘ having our affections 
 set upon things above.’ Looking unto Jesus. Ilis 
 righteousness imputed unto us by the shedding of 
 his blood, marks all the road, and while we keep 
 that in sight we cannot err. In all earthly things 
 we anticipate too much—but in the glories of 
 heaven, our anticipations are feeble indeed, com¬ 
 pared with eternal realities. Could the saints in 
 
 glory impart to us a sense of their indescribable 
 happiness, with what activity and perseverance we 
 should run. The case of Lot, when flying from 
 destruction, is put by Bunyan with peculiar force 
 —he dared not to look back even to see what had 
 become of his wife, lest death should overtake his 
 own soul. p. 39i. 0, my reader, may we be stimulated 
 so to run as to obtain that crown of glory which is 
 imperishable, immortal, and eternal. 
 
 Charles Doe, one of Bunyan’s personal friends, 
 having purchased the copyright of this work, kept 
 it for some years, in hope of publishing it with other 
 treatises, as a second folio volume, to complete his 
 works; but failing in this object, he printed it separ¬ 
 ately in 1698, and appended an interesting list of 
 Bunyan’s works, with thirty cogent reasons why 
 these invaluable labours should be preserved and 
 handed down, to bless succeeding ages. 
 
 An earnest desire to preserve, in their perfect 
 integrity, all the treatises as they were originally 
 published, will induce me, at the end of the works, 
 to reprint those interesting additions. 
 
 Geo. Offor. 
 
 AN EPISTLE TO ALL THE SLOTHFUL AND CARELESS PEOPLE. 
 
 Friends, 
 
 Solomon saitli, that ‘The desire of the slothful 
 killeth him ; v and if so, what will slothfulness itself 
 do to those that entertain it? Pr. xxi. 25. The pro¬ 
 verb is, ‘He that sleepeth in harvest is a son that 
 causeth shame. Pr. x. 5. And this I dare be bold to 
 say, no greater shame can befal a man, than to see 
 that he hath fooled away his soul, and sinned away 
 eternal life. And I am sure this is the next way 
 to do it; namely, to be slothful; slothful, I say, in 
 the work of salvation. The vineyard of the sloth¬ 
 ful man, in reference to the things of this life, is 
 not fuller of briars, nettles, and stinking weeds, 
 than he that is slothful for heaven, hath his heart 
 full of heart-choaking and soul-damning sin. 
 
 Slothfulness hath these two evils: First, To 
 neglect the time in which it should be getting of 
 heaven; and by that means doth, in the Second 
 place, bring in untimely repentance. I will war¬ 
 rant you, that he who shall lose his soul in this 
 world through slothfulness, will have no cause to 
 be irlad thereat when he comes to hell. 
 
 Slothfulness is usually accompanied with care¬ 
 lessness, and carelessness is for the most part be¬ 
 gotten by senselessness ; and senselessness doth 
 again put fresh strength into slothfulness, and by 
 this means the soul is left remediless. 
 
 Slothfulness shutteth out Christ; slothfulness 
 shameth the soul. Ca. v. 2-4. Pr. xiii. 4. 
 
 Slothfulness, it is condemned even by the feeblest 
 
 of all the creatures. ‘ Go to the ant, thou sluggard, 
 consider her ways and be wise. Pr. vi. 6. The slug¬ 
 gard will not plow by reason of the cold;’ xx. 4 ; 
 that is, he will not break up the fallow ground of 
 his heart, because there must be some pains taken 
 by him that will do it; ‘therefore shall he beg in 
 harvest,’ that is, when the saints of God shall have 
 their glorious heaven and happiness given to them; 
 but the sluggard shall ‘have nothing,’ that is, be 
 never the better for his crying for mercy, according 
 to that in Mat. xxv. 10 - 12 . 
 
 If you would know a sluggard in the things of 
 heaven, compare him with one that is slothful in 
 the things of this world. As, 1. He that is sloth¬ 
 ful is loth to set about the work he should follow: 
 so is he that is slothful for heaven. 2. He that is 
 slothful is one that is willing to make delays: so is 
 he that is slothful for heaven. 3. He that is a 
 sluggard, any small matter that cometh in between, 
 he will make it a sufficient excuse to keep him off 
 from plying his work: so it is also with him that 
 is slothful for heaven. 4. He that is slothful doth his 
 work by the halves; and so it is with him that is 
 slothful for heaven. He may almost, but he shall 
 never altogether obtain perfection of deliverance 
 from hell; he may almost, but he shall never, with¬ 
 out he mend, be altogether a saint. 5. They that 
 are slothful, do usually lose the season in which 
 thino's are to be done: and thus it is also with them 
 
 O 
 
 that are slothful for heaven, they miss the season 
 of grace. And therefore, 6. They that are sloth- 
 
 1 
 
EPISTLE TO SLOTHFUL AND CARELESS PEOPLE. 
 
 070 
 
 fill have seldom or never good fruit: so also it will 
 be with the soul-sluggard. 7. They that are sloth¬ 
 ful they are chid for the same: so also will Christ 
 deal with those that are not active for him. Thou 
 wicked or slothful servant, out of thine own mouth 
 will 1 judge thee ; thou saidst I was thus, aud thus, 
 wherefore then gavest not thou my money to the 
 bank? &c. Lu. xix. 22. Take the unprofitable ser¬ 
 vant, and cast him into utter darkness, where shall 
 be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Mat. xxv. 26-30. 
 
 Wiiat shall I say? Time runs; and will you 
 be slothful ? Much of your lives are past; and 
 will you he slothful? Your souls are worth a 
 thousand worlds ; and will you he slothful ? The 
 day of death and judgment is at the door ; and will 
 you he slothful? The curse of God hangs over 
 your heads; and will you he slothful ? Besides, 
 the devils are earnest, laborious, and seek by all 
 means every day, by every sin, to keep you out of 
 heaven, and hinder you of salvation; and will you 
 he slothful ? Also your neighbours are diligent for 
 things that will perish; and will you he slothful for 
 things that will endure for ever? Would you be 
 willing: to he damned for slothfulness ? Would 
 you he willing the angels of God should neglect to 
 fetch your souls away to heaven when you lie a- 
 dying, and the devils stand by ready to scramble 
 for them ? * * Was Christ slothful in the work of your 
 redemption ? Are his ministers slothful in tendering 
 this unto you? And, lastly, If all this will not 
 move, I tell you God will not be slothful or negli¬ 
 gent to damn you—whose damnation now of along 
 time slumhereth not—nor the devils will not ne¬ 
 glect to fetch thee, nor hell neglect to shut its 
 mouth upon thee. 
 
 Sluggard, art thou asleep still? art thou resolved 
 to sleep the sleep of death ? Wilt neither tidings 
 from heaven or hell awake thee ? Wilt thou say 
 still, ‘ Yet a little sleep, a little slumber,’ and ‘a 
 little folding of the hands to sleep?’ Pr. vi. 10. Wilt 
 thou yet turn thyself in thy sloth, as the door is 
 turned upon the hinges? 0 that I was one that 
 was skilful in lamentation, and had but a yearning 
 heart towards thee, how would I pity thee! How 
 would I bemoan thee! 0 that I could with Jere¬ 
 miah let my eyes run down with rivers of water for 
 thee! Poor soul, lost soul, dying soul, what a 
 hard heart have I that I cannot mourn for thee! 
 
 * It was the commonly received opinion that, at the mo¬ 
 ment of death, the angels and devils strove to carry away the 
 soul. If the dying man had received the consecrated wafer, 
 the devils were scared at it, and lost their victim. Hence the 
 prayer—* From lightning, battle, murder, and sudden death, 
 good Lord, deliver us ;* a curious contrast to, * Thy will be 
 done 1* Were they sinners above all men upon whom the 
 tower in Siloam fell and slew them? Lu. xiii. 4. O that men 
 would rely upon the righteousness of Christ stimulating them 
 to run for glory, as heavenly footmen, aud not upon the nos¬ 
 trums of Antichrist!—E d. 
 
 If thou sliouldst lose but a limb, a child, or a 
 friend, it would not be so much, but poor man it 
 is thy soul ; if it was to lie in hell but for a day, 
 but for a year, nay, ten thousand years, it would 
 (in comparison) be nothing. But 0 it is for ever! 
 0 this cutting ever ! What a soul amazing word 
 will that be, which saitli, ‘Depart from me, yo 
 cursed, into everlasting fire’! &c.t 
 
 Object. But if I should set in, and run as you 
 would have me, then I must run from all my friends ; 
 for none of them are running that way. 
 
 Answ. And if thou dost, thou wilt run into the 
 bosom of Christ and of God, and then what harm 
 will that do thee? 
 
 Object. But if I run this way, then I must run 
 from all my sins. 
 
 Answ. That is true indeed ; yet if thou dost not, 
 thou wilt run into hell-fire. 
 
 Object. But if I run this way, then I shall be 
 hated, and lose the love of my friends and rela¬ 
 tions, and of those that I expect benefit from, or 
 have reliance on, and I shall be mocked of all my 
 neighbours. 
 
 Answ. And if thou dost not, thou art sure to 
 lose the love and favour of God and Christ, the 
 benefit of heaven and glory, and be mocked of God 
 for thy folly, ‘ I also will laugh at your calamity; 
 I will mock when your fear cometh;’ and if thou 
 wouldst not be hated and mocked, then take heed 
 thou by thy folly dost not procure the displeasure 
 and mockings of the great God ; for his mocks and 
 hatred will be terrible, because they will fall upon 
 thee in terrible times, even when tribulation and 
 anguish taketh hold on thee; which will be when 
 death and judgment comes, when all the men in 
 the earth, and all the angels in heaven, cannot help 
 thee. rr. i. 2C-28. 
 
 Object. But surely I may begin this time enough, 
 a year or two hence, may I not ? 
 
 Answ. 1. Hast thou any lease of thy life ? Did 
 ever God tell thee thou shalt live half a year, or 
 two months longer? nay, it maybe thou mayst not 
 live so long. And therefore, 2. Wilt thou be so 
 sottish and unwise, as to venture thy soul upon a 
 little uncertain time? 3. Dost thou know whether 
 the day of grace will last a week longer or no? 
 For the day of grace is past with some before their 
 life is ended: and if it should be so with thee. 
 
 f In a very beautifully ornamented Liturgy of the Church 
 of England, prior to the Reformation, after the Salisbury use, 
 printed in 1526 (in the Editor’s library), is this direction— 
 
 * These iii. prayers be wrytten in the chapel of the holy crosse 
 in Rome, who that deuoutly say them they shall obteyne ten 
 hundred thousand years of pardon for deadly sins graunted of 
 oure holy father Jhon xxii pope of Rome.’ The three prayers 
 only occupy twenty-six short lines, aud may be gravely re¬ 
 peated in two minutes. Such was and is Popery!! But at 
 the end of all this promised pardon for a million of years— 
 what then? Will eternal torments commence?— Ed. 
 
380 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THIS BOOK. 
 
 wouldst thou not saj, 0 that I had begun to run 
 before the day of grace had been past, and the 
 gates of heaven shut against me. But, 4. If thou 
 shouldst see any of thy neighbours neglect the 
 making sure of either house or land to themselves, 
 if they had it proffered to them, saying, Time enough 
 hereafter, when the time is uncertain ; and besides, 
 they do not know whether ever it will be proffered 
 to them again, or no: I say, Wouldst thou not 
 then call them fools ? And if so, then dost thou 
 think that thou art a wise man to let thy immor¬ 
 tal soul hang over hell by a thread of uncertain 
 time, which may soon be cut asunder by death ? 
 
 But to speak plainly, all these are the words of 
 a slothful spirit. Arise man, be slothful no longer; 
 set foot, and heart, and all into the way of God, 
 
 and run, the crown is at the end of the race ; there 
 also standeth the loving fore-runner, even Jesus, 
 who hath prepared heavenly provision to make thy 
 soul welcome, and he will give it thee with a will- 
 inger heart than ever thou canst desire it of him. 
 0 therefore do not delay the time any longer, but 
 put into practice the words of the men of Dan to 
 their brethren, after they had seen the goodness of 
 the land of Canaan: ‘Arise,* say they, &c., ‘for 
 we have seen the land, and behold it is very good; 
 and are ye still,’ or do you forbear running? ‘Be 
 not slothful to go, and to enter to possess the land.’ 
 Ju. xviii. 9. Farewell. 
 
 I wish our souls may meet with comfort at the 
 journey’s end. 
 
 John Bunyan. 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THE 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. Doctrine. —After the words are opeued, this doc¬ 
 
 trine is laid down, namely, that they that will have 
 heaven, they must run for it, . . . .381 
 
 II. After that, the word RUN is opened by three 
 
 other Scripture expressions— 
 
 1. Flying. 2. Pressing. 3. Continuing, . . 381 
 
 III. After which is laid down several reasons eor 
 
 THE CLEARING OF THE DOCTRINE— 
 
 I. Because every one that runneth doth not obtain. 
 
 2. Because if they do not obtain, then will they lose 
 their running also. 3. Because the way is long. 
 
 4. Because the time is uncertain. 5. Because the 
 devil, sin, hell, and the law runs after them. 6 . Be¬ 
 cause heaven’s gates may be shut shortly. 7. Be¬ 
 cause if they lose, they lose all ; even God, Christ, 
 their souls, &c.,.381 
 
 IV. Directions. —In the fourth place, I come to give 
 some directions how to run so as to obtain; and they 
 in all are nine— 
 
 1. To get into the way,. 353 
 
 2. To ponder the path of thy feet, . . . 384 
 
 3. To strip thyself of incumbrances that may hang on 
 
 thee, like weights to hinder thee, . . . 384 
 
 4. To shun bye-paths, . 334 
 
 5. To take heed of gazing and staring about thee, on 
 
 things that do not concern thy running, . 385 
 
 6 . Not to let thy car be open to every one that calleth 
 
 after thee,.385 
 
 7. Not to be daunted with the enemies thou art like 
 
 to meet with between this aud the kingdom of 
 heaven,.386 
 
 8 . To take heed of stumbliug at the cross, . .386 
 
 9. To cry hard to God for an enlightened heart and a 
 
 willing mind,.388 
 
 V. Motives. —The motives are nine — 
 
 1. To consider there is no way but this, thou must 
 either win or lose. If thou win, thou winnest all; 
 if thou lose, thou losest all, . . . .389 
 
 ■ 2 . I he devil and sin do the best they can to make 
 thee lose,. 
 
 WHOLE OF THIS BOOK. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 3. If they get the better of thee, thou shalt lose, . 390 
 
 4. Now the gates of heaven, and the heart of Christ, 
 
 are both open to thee, . . . . 390 
 
 5. Therefore keep thy eye upon the prize, . .390 
 
 6 . Think much of them that are gone before. (1.) How 
 
 really they got in. (2.) How SAFE they are, 
 now they are there, . . . , . 390 
 
 7. Do but set to the work, and when thou hast run 
 
 thyself down weary, Christ will carry thee in his 
 bosom,.391 
 
 8 . Or else convey new strength to thee, . . 391 
 
 9. Let the very industry of the devil and wicked men 
 
 (I say, let the consideration of their diligence to 
 briug their designs to pass) provoke thee, . . 391 
 
 VI. The uses are nine also— 
 
 1. To examine thyself whether thou art in the way 
 
 or no,.391 
 
 2. The danger they are in, that grow weary before 
 
 they come to their journey’s end, . . .392 
 
 3. The sad estate of them that are running quite back 
 
 again,.392 
 
 4. Their woe also that to this day sit still, and run 
 
 not at all, ....... 392 
 
 5. This doctrine calleth out to them that began but 
 
 a while since to mend their pace, . . . 393 
 
 6 . That old professors should not let young striplings 
 
 outrun them, 393 
 
 7. They behave themselves basely that count they run 
 
 fast enough, if they keep company with the hind¬ 
 most and laziest professors, .... 393 
 
 8 . That lazy professors are apt to keep others besides 
 
 themselves out of heaven, . . . . .393 
 
 9. The conclusion, or last use; wherein, to provoke 
 thee, thou hast the heavenly carriage of Lot as he 
 went from Sodom, and the fearful doom of his wife, 393 
 
 VII. Provocation. —Also to consider, if thy soul be 
 
 lost, it is thy own loss, and thou only wilt feel the 
 smart thereof, . . . . , . 394 
 
 VIII. A short expostulation, .... 394 
 
 These be the contents of this little book; 
 
 If thou wilt see further, then thorow it look. 
 
 390 
 
T1IE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 381 
 
 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 ‘SO RUN - , TIIAT YE MAY OBTAIN.’- 1 COR. IX. 24. 
 
 Heaven and happiness is that which every one de- 
 sireth, insomuch that wicked Balaam could say, 
 
 ‘ Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my 
 last end he like liis.’ Nu. xxiii 10 . Yet for all this, 
 there are hut very few that do obtain that ever-to- 
 be-desired glory, insomuch that many eminent pro¬ 
 fessors drop short of a welcome from God into his 
 pleasant place. 
 
 The apostle, therefore, because he did desire the 
 salvation of the souls of the Corinthians, to whom 
 he writes this epistle, layetli them down in these 
 words, such counsel, which if taken, would he for 
 (heir help and advantage. First, Not to he wicked, 
 and sit still, and wish for heaven ; hut to run for 
 it. Second, Not to content themselves with every 
 kind of running; hut, saith he, ‘ So run, that ye 
 may obtain.’ As if he should say, Some, because 
 they would not lose their souls, they begin to run 
 betimes, Ec. xii. 1, they run apace, they run with 
 patience, He. xii. 1, they run the right way. Mat. xiv. 26. 
 Do you so run ? Some run from both father and 
 mother, friends and companions, and thus, that 
 they may have the crown. Do you so run? Some 
 run through temptations, afflictions, good report, 
 evil report, that they may win the pearl. iCo. iv. is. 
 
 2 Co. vi. Do you so run? ‘So run that ye may 
 obtain.’ 
 
 These words, they are taken from men’s running 
 for a wager: a very apt similitude to set before 
 the eyes of the saints of the Lord. ‘Know ye not 
 that they which run in a race run all, but one re- 
 eeiveth the prize? So run, that ye may obtain.’ 
 That is, do not only run, but be sure you win as 
 well as run. ‘So run, that ye may obtain.’ 
 
 I shall not need to make any great ado in open- 
 in £a the words at this time, but shall rather lay 
 down one doctrine that I do find in them; and in 
 prosecuting that, I shall show you, in some mea¬ 
 sure, the scope of the words. 
 
 [I. The Doctrine of the Text.] 
 
 The doctrine is this: They that will have 
 heaven, must run for it ; I say, they that will 
 have heaven, they must run for it. I beseech you 
 to heed it well. ‘ Know ye not that they which run 
 in a race run all, but one receiveth the prize ? So 
 run ye.’ The prize is heaven, and if you will have 
 it, you must run forltT Yhu have another scrip¬ 
 ture for this in the 12th of the Hebrews, the 1st, 
 2d, and 3rd verses: ‘Wherefore seeing we also,’ 
 saith the apostle, ‘ are compassed about with so 
 great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every 
 
 weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, 
 and let us run with patience the race that is set 
 before us.’ And let us run, saith he. Again, 
 saith Paul, ‘I therefore so run, not as uncertainly, 
 so fight I,’ &c. 
 
 [II. The word RUN opened.] 
 
 But before I go any further, observe, 
 
 Fl rs t —Flying —That this running is not an or¬ 
 dinary, or any sort of running, but it is to be under¬ 
 stood of the swiftest sort of running; and therefore 
 in the 6th of the Hebrews it is called ‘a fleeing 
 that ‘we might have a strong consolation, who have 
 fled for refuge, to lay hold upon the hope set before 
 us.’ Mark, ‘who have fled.’ It is taken from 
 that 20th of Joshua, concerning the man that was 
 to flee to the city of refuge, when the avenger of 
 blood was hard at his heels, to take vengeance on 
 him for the offence he had committed; therefore 
 it is a running or flying for one’s life. A run¬ 
 ning with all might and main, as we use to say. 
 So run! 
 
 Second —Pressing —This running in another 
 place is called a pressing. ‘I press toward the 
 mark;’ ph. m. U; which signifietli, that they that 
 will have heaven, they must not stick at any diffi¬ 
 culties they meet with; but press, crowd, and 
 thrust through all that may stand between heaven 
 and their souls. So run! 
 
 Third — Continuing —This running is called in 
 another place, ‘a continuing in the way of life. If 
 ye continue in the faith grounded, and settled, and 
 he not moved away from the hope of the gospel ’ of 
 Christ. Col. i. 23. Not to run a little now and then, 
 by fits and starts, or half-way, or almost thither; 
 but to run for my life, to run through all difficul¬ 
 ties, and to continue therein to the end of the race, 
 which must be to the end of my life. ‘So run, 
 that ye may obtain.’ 
 
 [in. Several Reasons for Clearing this 
 Doctrine.] 
 
 And the reasons for this point are these, 
 
 First. Because all or every one that runneth doth 
 not obtain the prize; there be many that do run, 
 yea, and run far too, who yet miss of the crown 
 that standeth at the end of the race. You know 
 that all that run in a race do not obtain the victory ; 
 they all run, but one wins. And so it is here; it 
 is not every one that runneth, nor every one that 
 seeketli, nor every one that striveth for the mas¬ 
 tery, that hath it. Lu. xiii. Though a man do strive 
 for the mastery, saith Paul, ‘yet he is not crowned, 
 except he strive lawfully;’ that is, unless he so 
 
382 
 
 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 run, and so strive, as to have God’s approbation. 
 2 Tim. ii. 5 . W hat, do you think that every heavy- 
 heeled professor will have heaven ? What, every 
 lazy one ; every wanton and foolish professor, that 
 will be stopped by anything, kept back by any¬ 
 thing, that scarce runneth so fast heaven-ward as a 
 snail creepeth on the ground ? Nay, there are some 
 professors do not go on so fast in the way of God 
 as a snail doth go on the wall; and yet these think; 
 that heaven and happiness is for them. But stay, 
 there are many more that run than there be that 
 obtain ; therefore he that wil have heaven must 
 pun for it. 
 
 Second, Because you know that though a man 
 do run, yet if he do not overcome, or win, as well as 
 run, what will he be the better for his running? He 
 will get nothing. You know the man that runneth, 
 he doth do it that he may win the prize; but if 
 ne doth not obtain, he doth lose his labour, spend 
 his pains and time, and that to no purpose; I say, 
 he getteth nothing. And ah! how many such run¬ 
 ners will there be found at the day of judgment! 
 Even multitudes, multitudes that have run, yea, 
 run so far as to come to heaven gates, and notable 
 to get any further, but there stand knocking, when 
 it is too late, crying, Lord, Lord, when they have 
 nothing but rebukes for their pains. Depart from 
 you come not here, you come too late, you run 
 too lazily; the door is shut. 1 ‘When once the 
 master of the house is risen up,’saith Christ, ‘and 
 hath shut to the door, and ye begin to stand with¬ 
 out, and to knock at the door, saying, Lord, Lord, 
 open unto us, I will say, I know ye not, Depart,’ 
 &c. Lu. xiii. 25. 0 sad will the estate of those be 
 
 that run and miss; therefore, if you will have 
 heaven, you must run for it; and ‘so run that ye 
 may obtain. ’ 
 
 Third, Because the way is long (I speak meta- 
 phorically), and there is many a dirty step, many 
 a high hill, much work to do, a wicked heart, world, 
 and devil, to overcome ; I say, there are many steps 
 to be taken by those that intend to be saved, by 
 running or walking, in the steps of that faith of 
 our father Abraham. Out of Egypt thou must go 
 through the Red Sea ; thou must run a long and 
 tedious journey, through the vast howling wilder¬ 
 ness, before thou come to the land of promise. 
 
 Fourth, They that will go to heaven they must 
 run for it; because, as the way is long, so the time 
 in which they are to get to the end of it is very un¬ 
 
 1 How awfully is this pictured to the soul in that solemn 
 account of the day of death and judgment in Mat. xxv.; and 
 how strikingly applied in the Pilgrim’s Progress in the char¬ 
 acter of Ignorance.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 * When the bell begins to toll. 
 
 Lord have mercy on the soul.’ 
 
 ihe Papists imagine that there is an extraordinary power in 
 the bell hallowed by baptism to drive away the spirits of dark¬ 
 ness, so that the departing sold may take its journey without 
 
 certain; the time present is the only time; thou 
 hast no more time al] otted thee than that thou now 
 enjoyest. ‘ Boast not thyself of to-morrow, for thou 
 knowest not what a day may bring forth.’ Pr. xxvii. l. 
 Do not say ; I have time enough to get to heaven 
 seven years hence ; for T tell thee, the bell may toll 
 for thee before seven days more be ended; 2 and 
 when death comes, away thou must go, whether 
 thou art provided or not; arid therefore look to it; 
 make no delays ; it is not good dallying with things 
 of so great concernment as the salvation or dam¬ 
 nation of thy soul. You know he that hath a great 
 way to go m a little time, and less by half than he 
 thinks of, he had need pun for it. 
 
 Fifth, They that will have heaven thev must run 
 for it; because the devil, the law, sin, death, and 
 hell, follow them. There is never a poor soul that 
 is going to heaven, but the devil, the law, sin, 
 death, and hell, make after that soul. * Your ad¬ 
 versary, the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, 
 seeking whom he may devour.’ 1 p e . v. 8. And I 
 will assure you, the devil is nimble, he can run 
 apace, he is light of foot, he hath overtaken many, 
 he hath turned up their heels, and hath given them 
 an everlasting fall. Also the law, that can shoot 
 a great way, have a care thou keep out of the 
 reach of those great guns, the ten commandments. 
 Hell also hath a wide mouth; it can stretch itself 
 further than you are aware of. And as the angel 
 said to Lot, Take heed, ‘look not behind thee, 
 neither tarry thou in all the plain,’ that is, any 
 where between this and heaven, ‘lest thou be con¬ 
 sumed. ’ 3 Ge . xix. 17. So say 1 to thee, Take heed, 
 tarry not, lest either the devil, hell, death, or the 
 fearful curses of the law of God, do overtake thee, 
 and throw thee down in the midst of thy sins, so as 
 never to rise and recover again. If this were well 
 considered, then thou, as well as I, wouldst say, 
 They that will have heaven must run for it. 
 
 Sixth, They that will go to heaven must run for 
 it; because perchance the gates of heaven may be 
 shut shortly. Sometimes sinners have not heaven- 
 gates open to them so long as they suppose; and 
 if they be once shut against a man, they are so 
 heavy, that all the men in the world, nor all the 
 angels in heaven, are not able to open them. I 
 shut, ‘and no man openeth,’ saith Christ. And 
 how if thou shouldst come but one quarter of an 
 hour too late? I tell thee, it will cost thee an 
 eternity to bewail thy misery in. Francis Sp>ira 
 can tell thee what it is to stay till the gate of mercy 
 
 molestation!! It was also intended to rouse the faithful to 
 pray for the dead person’s soul. This, and other superstitious 
 practices, were suspended during the Protectorate in some 
 parishes, if not generally, but were revived at the Restoration, 
 because the omission injured the revenues of the church.— 
 See Brand’s Popular Antiquities. — (Ed.) 
 
 This quotation, probably made from memory, is a mixture 
 of the Genevan aud the present version.— (Ed.) 
 
THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 383 
 
 1)0 quite shut; or to run so lazily, that they be 
 shut before thou get within them. 1 What, to be 
 shut out! what, out of heaven! Sinner, latliei 
 than lose it, run for it; yea, and ‘so run that thou 
 raayst obtain.’ 
 
 Seventh, Lastly, Because if thou lose, thou losest 
 all, thou losest soul, God, Christ, heaven, ease, 
 peace, &c. Besides, thou layest thyself open to 
 all the shame, contempt, and reproach, that either 
 God, Christ, saints, the world, sin, the devil, and 
 all, can lay upon tliee. As Christ saith of the 
 foolish builder, so will I say of thee, if thou be 
 such a one who runs and missest; I say, even all 
 that go by will begin to mock at thee, saying, 
 This man began to run well, but was not able to 
 finish. Lu. xiv. 23 - 30 .' But more of this anon. 
 
 Quest. But how should a poor soul do to run? 
 For this very thing is that which afflicteth me sore, 
 as you say, to think that I may run, and yet fall 
 short. Methinks to fall short at last, 0, it fears 
 me greatly. Pray tell me, therefore, how I should 
 
 run. 
 
 Answ. That thou mightest indeed be satisfied in 
 this particular, consider these following things. 
 
 [IV. Nine Directions how to Run.] 
 
 The First Direction.— If thou wouldst so run as 
 to obtain the kingdom of heaven, then be sure that 
 thou get into the way that leadeth thither. For it 
 is a vain thing to think that ever thou slialt have 
 the prize, though thou runnest never so fast, un¬ 
 less thou art in the way that leads to it. Set the 
 case, that there should be a man in London that 
 was to run to York for a wager; now, though he 
 run never so swiftly, yet if he run full south, he 
 might run himself quickly out of breath, and be 
 never the nearer the prize, but rather the further 
 off. Just so is it here; it is not simply the runner, 
 nor yet the hasty runner, that winneth the crown, 
 unless he be in the way that leadeth thereto. 2 I 
 have observed, that little time which I have been 
 a professor, that there is a great running to and 
 fro, some this way, and some that way, yet it is 
 to be feared most of them are out of the way, and 
 
 1 Francis Spira, in 1548, being a lawyer in great repute in 
 Italy, professed gospel principles, but afterwards relapsed into 
 Foperv, and became a victim of black despair, lhe man in 
 the iron cage, at the Interpreter’s house, probably referred to 
 Spira. The narrative of his fearful state is preceded by a 
 poem:— 
 
 ‘ Here see a soul that’s all despair, a man 
 Ah hell, a spirit all wounds. Who can 
 A wounded spirit bear ? 
 
 Reader, wouldst see what you may never feel, 
 
 Despair, racks, torments, whips of burning steel. 
 
 Behold this man, this furnace, in whose heart 
 Sin hath created hell. O! in each part 
 What flames appear? 
 
 His thoughts ah stings; words, swords; 
 
 Brimstone his breath; 
 
 His eyes, flames; wishes, curses; life, a death , 
 
 A thousand deaths live in him, lie not dead— 
 
 A breathing corpse in living scalding lead.—(E d.) 
 
 then, though they run as swift as the eagle can fly, 
 they are benefitted nothing at all. 
 
 Here is one runs a-quaking, another a-ranting; 
 one again runs afteT the Baptism, and another 
 after the Independency. Here is one for free-will, 
 and another for Presbytery ; and yet possibly most 
 of all these sects run quite the wrong way, and 
 yet every one is for his life, his soul, either for 
 heaven or hell.° 
 
 If thou now say, Which is the way ? I tell thee 
 it is Christ, the Son of Mary, tiie Son of God, 
 Jesus saith, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the 
 life; no man cometh unto the Father but by me. 
 jn. xiv. 6. So then thy business is, if thou wouldst 
 have salvation, to see if Christ be thine, with all 
 his benefits; whether he hath covered thee with 
 his righteousness, whether he hath showed thee 
 that thy sins are washed away with his heart-blood, 
 whether thou art planted into him, and whether 
 thou have faith iii him, so as to make a life out of 
 him, and to conform thee to him. That is, such 
 faith as to conclude that thou art righteous, be¬ 
 cause Christ is thy righteousness, and so constrained 
 to walk with him as the joy of thy heart, because 
 he saveth thy soul. And for the Lord s sake take 
 heed, and do not deceive thyself, and think thou 
 art in the way upon too slight grounds ; for if thou 
 miss of the way, thou wilt miss of the prize ; and 
 if thou miss of that, I am sure thou wilt lose thy 
 soul, even that soul which is worth more than the 
 whole world. 
 
 But I have treated more largely on this in my 
 book of the two covenants, and therefore shall pass 
 it now; only I beseech thee to have a care of thy 
 soul, and that thou mayest so do, take this coun¬ 
 sel : Mistrust thy own strength, and throw it away; 
 down on thy knees in prayer to the Lord for the 
 spirit of truth; search his word for direction ; fly se¬ 
 ducers’ company ; keep company with the soundest 
 Christians, that have most experience of Christ; 
 and be sure thou have a care of Quakers, Ranters, 
 Freewillers; also Jo not have too much company 
 with some Anabaptists, though I go under that 
 name myself. 3 I tell thee this is such a serious 
 
 2 How plain and important is this direction. Saul the pci- 
 secutor ran fast, but the faster he ran in his murderous zeal 
 the further he ran from the prize. Let every staunch sectarian 
 examine prayerfully his way, especially if the sect he belongs 
 to is patrouized by princes, popes, or potentates, and endowed 
 with worldly honours. He may be running/m» and not to 
 
 heaven.— (Ed.) . 
 
 3 He that trusts in the sect to which he belongs is assuredly 
 in the wrong way, whether it be the Church of Lome or Eng¬ 
 land, Quaking, ltantiug, Baptists, or Independents. Trust in 
 Christ must be all in all. First be in Christ, then run foi heav cn, 
 looking unto Christ. Keep fellowship with those who are the 
 purest, and run fastest in the ordinances of the gospel which 
 are revealed in the Word. Follow no human authority nor 
 craft, seek the influence of the Holy Spirit for yourself, that 
 you may be led into all truth, then you will SO run as to 
 obtain. —(Ed.) 
 
384 
 
 THE HEAVENLY EOOTMAN. 
 
 matter, and I fear tliou wilt so little regard it, that 
 the thoughts of the worth of the thing, and of thy 
 too light regarding of it, doth even make my heart 
 ache whilst I am writing to thee. The Lord teach 
 thee the way by his Spirit, and then I am sure 
 thou wilt know it. So run. 
 
 Only by the way, let me bid thee have a care of 
 two things, and so I shall pass to the next thing. 
 
 I. Have a care of relying on Hie outward obe¬ 
 dience to any of God’s commands, or thinking thy¬ 
 self ever the better in the sight of God for that. 
 2. Take heed of fetching peace for thy soul from 
 any inherent righteousness ; but if thou canst be¬ 
 lieve that as thou art a sinner, so thou art justified 
 freely by the love of God, through the redemption 
 that is in Christ; and that God for Christ’s sake 
 hath forgiven thee, not because he saw any thing 
 done, or to he done, in or by thee, to move him 
 thereunto to do it; for that is the right w r ay; the 
 Lord put thee into it, and keep thee in it. 
 
 The Second Direction. —As thou shouldst get into 
 the way so thou shouldst also be much in studying 
 and musing on the way. You know men that 
 would he expert in any thing, they are usually 
 much in studying of that thing, and so likewise is 
 it with those that quickly grow expert in any way. 
 This therefore thou shouldst do; let thy study be 
 much exercised about Christ, which is the way; 
 what he is, what he hath done, and why he is what 
 he is, and why he hath done what is done; as, 
 why ‘ He took upon him the form of a servant,’ 
 why he ‘ was made ih the likeness of men. ’ rh. ii. 7. 
 Why he cried; why he died; why he bear the sin 
 of the world; why he was made sin, and why he 
 was made righteousness; why he is in heaven in 
 the nature of man, and what he doth there? 2C0. 
 v. 21 . Be much in musing and considering of these 
 things; he thinking also enough of those places 
 which thou must not come near, but leave some on 
 this hand, and some on that hand; as it is with 
 those that travel into other countries, they must 
 leave such a gate on this hand, and such a hush on 
 that hand, and go by such a place, where standeth 
 such a thing. Thus, therefore, thou must do : 
 Avoid such things which are expressly forbidden 
 in the Word of God. ‘Withdraw thy foot far from 
 her, and come not nigh the door of her house, for 
 her steps take hold on hell, going down to the cham¬ 
 bers of death.’ Pr. v., vii. And so of every thing 
 that is not in the way, have a care of it, that thou 
 go not by it; come not near it, have nothing to do 
 with it. So run. 
 
 The Third Direction. —Not only thus, hut, in the 
 next place, thou must strip thyself of those things 
 that may hang upon thee to the hindering of thee 
 in the way to the kingdom of heaven, as covetous¬ 
 ness, pride, lust, or whatever else thy heart may 
 he inclining imto, which may hinder thee in this 
 
 heavenly race. Men that run for a wager, if they 
 intend to win as well as run, they do not use to 
 encumber themselves, ^r carry those things about 
 them that may be a hinderance to them in their 
 running. ‘Every man that striveth for the mas¬ 
 tery is temperate in all things,’ 1 Co. ix. 2*, that is, 
 he layetli aside every thing that would be any 
 ways a disadvantage to him; as saith the apostle, 
 ‘Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which 
 doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience 
 the race that is set before us.’ He. xii. 1. It is but 
 a vain thing to talk of going to heaven, if thou let 
 thy heart be encumbered with those things that 
 would hinder. Would you not say that such a 
 man would be in danger of losing, though he run, 
 if he fill his pockets with stones, hang heavy gar¬ 
 ments on his shoulders, and great lumpish shoes 
 on his feet ? x So it is here ; thou talkest of going 
 to heaven, and yet fillest thy pocket with stones, 
 i.e., fillest thy heart with this world, lettest that 
 hang on thy shoulders, with its profits and plea¬ 
 sures. Alas, alas, thou art widely mistaken! If 
 thou intendest to win, thou must strip, thou must 
 lay aside every weight, thou must be temperate in 
 all things. Thou must so run. 
 
 The Fourth Direction .—Beware of by-paths; 
 take heed thou dost not turn into those lanes which 
 lead out of the way. There are crooked paths, 
 paths in which men go astray, paths that lead to 
 death and damnation, but take heed of all those, 
 is. lix. s. Some of them are dangerous because ol 
 practice; Pr. vii. 25; some because of opinion, but 
 mind them not; mind the path before thee, look 
 right before thee, turn neither to the right hand 
 nor to the left, but let thine eyes look right on, 
 even right before thee. Pr. m. 17. ‘ Ponder the path 
 
 of thy feet, and let all thy w r ays be established. 
 Turn not to the right hand nor to the left. Re- 
 move thy foot far from evil.’ Pr. iv. 26, 27. This 
 counsel being not so seriously taken as given, is the 
 reason of that starting from opinion to opinion, 
 reeling this way and that way, out of this lane into 
 that lane, and so missing the way to the kingdom. 
 Though the way to heaven be but one, yet there 
 are many crooked lanes and by-paths shoot down 
 upon it, as I may say. And again, notwithstand¬ 
 ing the kingdom of heaven be the biggest city, yet 
 usually those by-paths are most beaten, most tra¬ 
 vellers go those ways; and therefore the way to 
 heaven is hard to be found, and as hard to be kept 
 in, by reason of these. Yet, nevertheless, it is in 
 
 1 How plain is this direction, and how does it commend 
 itself to our common-sense; lumpish shoes, and pockets tilled 
 with stones, how absurd for a man who is running a race!! 
 Stop, my dear reader, have you cast away all useless encum¬ 
 brances, aud all easily besetting sins ? Is your heart full of 
 mammon, or pride, or debauchery ? if so, you have no particle 
 of strength to run for heaven, but are running upon swift 
 perdition.—(E d.) 
 
THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 385 
 
 this case as it was with the harlot of Jericho; she 
 had one scarlet thread tied in her window, by which 
 her house was known. Jo. ii. is. So it is here, the 
 scarlet streams of Christ’s blood run throuo-hout 
 
 O 
 
 the way to the kingdom of heaven; 1 therefore 
 mind that, see if thou do find the besprinkling of 
 the blood of Christ in the way, and if thou do, be 
 of good cheer, thou art in the right way; but have 
 a care thou beguile not thyself with t fancy, for 
 then thou mayst light into any lane or way; but 
 that thou mayst not be mistaken, consider, though 
 it seem never so pleasant, yet if thou do not find 
 that in the very middle of the road there is writing 
 with the heart-blood of Christ, that he came into 
 the Avorld to save sinners, and that we are justified, 
 though we are ungodly; shun that way; for this 
 it is which the apostle meaneth when he saitli, We 
 have ‘boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood 
 of Jesus, by a new and living way which he hath 
 consecrated for us, through the vail, that is to say, 
 his flesh.’ He. x. 19 , 20 . How easy a matter is it in 
 this our day, for the devil to be too cunning for 
 poor souls, by calling his by-paths the way to the 
 kingdom! If such an opinion or fancy be but 
 cried up by one or more, this inscription being set 
 upon it by the devil, ‘ This is the way of God,’ how 
 speedily, greedily, and by heaps, do poor simple 
 souls throw away themselves upon it; especially 
 if it be daubed over with a few external acts of 
 morality, if so good. 2 But this is because men do 
 not know painted by-paths from the plain way to 
 the kingdom of heaven. They have not yet learned 
 the true Christ, and what his righteousness is, 
 neither have they a sense of their own insufficiency ; 
 but are bold, proud, presumptuous, self-conceited. 
 And therefore, 
 
 The Fifth Direction. Do not thou be too much 
 in looking too high in thy journey heavenwards. 
 Vou know men that run in a race do not use to 
 stare and gaze this way and that, neither do they 
 use to cast up their eyes too high, lest happily, 3 
 through their too too much gazing with their eyes 
 after other things, they in the meantime stumble 
 and catch a fall. The very same case is this; if 
 thou gaze and stare after every opinion and way 
 that comes into the world; also if thou be prying 
 overmuch into God’s secret decrees, or let thy heart 
 too much entertain questions about some nice 
 foolish curiosities, thou mayst stumble and fall, as 
 many hundreds in England have done, both in 
 
 1 This is one of those beautiful ideas which so abound in all 
 Bunyan s works. Our way to the kingdom is consecrated by 
 the cross of Christ, and may be known throughout by the 
 sprinkling of his blood, his groans, his agonies. All the doc¬ 
 trines that put us in the way are sanctified by the atonement; 
 all the spurs to a diligent running in that way are powerful as 
 motives, by our beiug bought with that precious price, the 
 death ol Emmanuel. O! my soul, be thou found lookiug unto 
 Jesus, he is the way, the only way to heaven.— (Ed.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Ranting and Quakery, to tlieir own eternal over¬ 
 throw' ; without the marvellous operation of God’s 
 grace be suddenly stretched forth to bring them 
 back again. Take heed therefore, follow not that 
 proud and lofty spirit, that, devil-like, cannot be 
 content with his own station. David was of an 
 excellent spirit where he saith, ‘ Lord, my heart 
 is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty, neither do I 
 exercise myself in great matters, or in things too 
 high for me. Surely I have behaved and quieted 
 myself as a child that is weaned of his mother: 
 my soul is even as a weaned child.’ rs. cxxxi. 1 , 2 . 
 Do thou so RUN. 
 
 The Sixth Direction. Take heed that you have 
 not an ear open to every one that calleth after you 
 as you are in your journey. Men that run, you 
 know, if any do call after them, saying, I would 
 speak with you, or go not too fast, and you shall 
 have my company with you, if they run for some 
 great matter, they use to say, Alas, I cannot stay, 
 I am in haste, pray talk not to me now; neither 
 can I stay for you, I am running for a wager: if I 
 win I am made, if I lose I am undone, and there¬ 
 fore hinder me not. Thus wise are men when they 
 run for corruptible things, and thus should thou 
 do, and thou hast more cause to do so-than they, 
 forasmuch as they run but for things that last not, 
 but thou for an incorruptible glory. I give thee 
 notice of this betimes, knowing that thou shalt 
 have enough call after thee, even the devil, sin, this 
 world, vain company, pleasures, profits, esteem 
 among men, ease, pomp, pride, together with an 
 innumerable company of such companions; one cry¬ 
 ing, Stay for me; the other saying, Do not leave 
 me behind; a third saying, And take me along 
 with you. What, will you go, saith the devil, 
 without your sins, pleasures, and profits ? Are 
 you so hasty ? Can you not stay and take these 
 along with you ? Will you leave your friends and 
 companions behind you ? Can you not do as your 
 neighbours do, carry the world, sin, lust, pleasure, 
 profit, esteem among men, along with you ? Have 
 a care thou do not let thine ear now be open to 
 the tempting, enticing, alluring, and soul-entang¬ 
 ling flatteries of such sink-souls 4 a3 these are. 
 
 ‘ My son,’ saith Solomon, ‘ if sinners entice thee, 
 consent thou not. ’ rr. i. 10 . 
 
 2 Strange infatuation, desperate pride, that man should reject 
 the humbling simplicity of Divine truth, and run so anxiously, 
 greedily, and in hosts, in the road to ruin, because priestcraft 
 calls it ‘ The way of Godpreferring the miserable sophistry 
 of Satan and his emissaries to the plain directions of Holy 
 Writ. 0! reader, put not your trust in man, but, while God 
 .is ready to direct you. rely solely on his Holy Word.— (Ed.) 
 
 a ‘Happily,’ or haply, were formerly used to express the 
 same meaning.—(E d.) 
 
 4 ‘Sink-souls’ is one of Bunyan’s strong Saxonisms, full of 
 meaning, ‘Sink’ is that in which filth or foulness is deposited. 
 
 ' She poured forth out of her hellish sink 
 Her fruitful cursed spawn.’ —Spencer.— (Ed.) 
 
 49 
 
38G 
 
 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 You know what it cost the young: man which 
 Solomon speaks of in the 7th of the Proverbs, that 
 was enticed by a harlot, ‘ With her much fair 
 speech she * won him, and ‘ caused him to yield, 
 with the flattering; of her lips she forced him,’ till 
 he went after her ‘as an ox to the slaughter, or as 
 a fool to the correction of the stocks;’ even so far, 
 
 ‘ till the dart struck through his liver, and knew 
 not that it was for his life. Hearken unto me now 
 therefore,’ saith he, ‘ 0 ye children, and attend to 
 the words of my mouth, let not thine heart decline 
 to her ways, go not astray in her paths, for she 
 hath cast down many wounded, yea, many strong 
 men have been slain by her,’ that is, kept out of 
 heaven by her, ‘ her house is the way to hell, 
 going down to the chambers of death.’ Soul, take 
 this counsel and say, Satan, sin, lust, pleasure, 
 profit, pride, friends, companions, and everything 
 else, let me alone, stand off, come not nigh me, 
 for I am running for heaven, for my soul, for God, 
 for Christ, from hell and everlasting damnation: if 
 I win, I win all, and if I lose, I lose all; let me 
 alone, for I will not hear. So run. 
 
 The Seventh Direction. In the next place, be 
 not daunted though thou meetest with never so 
 many discouragements in thy journey thither. 
 That man that is resolved for heaven, if Satan 
 cannot win him by flatteries, he will endeavour to 
 weaken him by discouragements; saying, thou art 
 o sinner, thou hast broke God’s law, thou art not 
 elected, thou comest too late, the day of grace is 
 past, God doth not care for thee, thy heart is 
 naught, thou art lazy, with a hundred other dis¬ 
 couraging suggestions. And thus it was with 
 David, where he saith, ‘ I had fainted, unless I 
 had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the 
 land of the living.’ Ps. xxvii. is, 14 . As if he should 
 say, the devil did so rage and my heart was so 
 base, that had I judged according to my own sense 
 and feeling, I had been absolutely distracted; but 
 I trusted to Christ in the promise, and looked that 
 God would be as good as his promise, in having 
 mercy upon me, an unworthy sinner; and this is 
 that which encouraged me, and kept me from 
 fainting. And thus must thou do when Satan, or 
 the law, or thy own conscience, do go about to 
 dishearten thee, either by the greatness of thy sins, 
 the wickedness of thy heart, the tediousness of 
 the way, the loss of outward enjoyments, the 
 hatred that thou wilt procure from the world, or 
 the like; then thou must encourage thyself with 
 the freeness of the promises, the tender-hearted¬ 
 ness of Christ, the merits of his blood, the freeness 
 of his invitations to come in, the greatness of the 
 sin of others that have been pardoned, and that 
 the same God, through the same Christ, holdetli 
 forth the same grace free as ever. If these be 
 not thy meditations, thou wilt draw very heavily 
 
 in the way to heaven, if thou do not give up nil 
 for lost, and so knock off from following any far¬ 
 ther; therefore, I say, take heart in thy journey, 
 and say to them that seek thy destruction, ‘ Re¬ 
 joice not against me, 0 mine enemy, when I fall 
 I shall arise, when I sit in darkness the Lord shall 
 he a light unto me.’ Mi. vii. 8. So run. 
 
 The Eighth Direction. Take heed of being 
 offended at the cross that thou must go by, before 
 thou come to heaven. You must understand, as I 
 have alreadv touched, that there is no man that 
 goeth to heaven but he must go by the cross. The 
 cross is the standing way-mark by which all they 
 that go to glory must pass by. ‘ We must through 
 much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.’ 
 Ac. xiv. 22. ‘ Yea, and all that will live godly in 
 
 Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.’ 2Ti. m. 12. If 
 thou art in the way to the kingdom, my life for 
 thine thou wilt come at the cross shortly—the 
 Lord grant thou dost not shrink at it, so as to 
 turn thee back again. ‘ If any man will come 
 after me,’ saith Christ, ‘ let him deny himself, and 
 take up his cross daily, and follow me.’ Lu. ix. 23. 
 The cross it stands, and hath stood, from the be¬ 
 ginning, as a way-mark to the kingdom of heaven. 1 
 You know if one ask you the way to such and such 
 a place, you, for the better direction, do not only 
 say, this is the way, but then also say, you must 
 go by such a gate, by such a style, such a bush, 
 tree, bridge, or such like. Why, so it is here; art 
 thou inquiring the way to heaven? Why, I tell 
 thee, Christ is the way; into him thou must get, 
 into his righteousness, to be justified; and if thou 
 art in him, thou wilt presently see the cross, thou 
 must go close by it, thou must touch it, nay, thou 
 must take it up, or else thou wilt quickly go out 
 of the way that leads to heaven, and turn up some 
 of those crooked lanes that lead down to the cham¬ 
 bers of death. 
 
 How thou mayest know the cross by these six 
 things. 1. It is known in the doctrine of justifi¬ 
 cation. 2. In the doctrine of mortification. 3. In 
 the doctrine of perseverance. 4. In self-denial. 
 5. Patience. 6. Communion with poor saints. 
 
 1. In the doctrine of justification; there is a 
 (Treat deal of the cross in that: a man is forced to 
 suffer the destruction of his own righteousness for 
 the righteousness of another. This is no easy 
 matter for a man to do; I assure to you it stretcli- 
 eth every vein in his heart before he will be brought 
 to yield to it. What, for a man to deny, reject, 
 
 1 This is one of Banyan’s most deeply expressive directions 
 to the heaven-ward pilgrim; may it sink into our heart s. 
 Christ is the way, the cross is the standing way-mark through¬ 
 out the road, never out of sight. In embracing the humbling 
 doctrines of grace, in sorrow for sin, in crucifying self, in bear¬ 
 ing each other’s burdens, in passing through the river that 
 will absorb our mortality—from the new birth to our inherit¬ 
 ance—the cross is the way-mark. — (Ed.) 
 
 *— • 
 
THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 387 
 
 abhor, and throw away all his prayers, tears, alms, 
 keeping of sabbaths, hearing, reading, with the 
 rest, in the point of justification, and to count them 
 accursed; 1 and to be willing, in the very midst of 
 the sense of his sms, to throw himself wholly upon 
 the righteousness and obedience of another man, 
 abhorring his own, counting it as deadly sin, as 
 the open breach of the law; I say, to do this in 
 deed and in truth, is the biggest piece of the cross; 
 and therefore Paul calleth this very thing a suffer¬ 
 ing; where he saith, ‘ And I have suffered the 
 loss of all things,’ which principally was his 
 righteousness, ‘ that I might win Christ, and be 
 found in him, not having,’ but rejecting, 4 mine 
 own righteousness.’ Phi. m. 8 , o. That is the first. 
 
 2. In the doctrine of mortification is also much 
 of the cross. Is it nothing for a man to lay hands 
 on his vile opinions, on his vile sins, of his bosom 
 sins, of his beloved, pleasant, darling sins, that 
 stick as close to him, as the flesh sticketh to the 
 bones ? What, to lose all these brave things that 
 my eyes behold, for that which I never saw with 
 my eyes ? What, to lose my pride, my covetous¬ 
 ness, my vain company, sports, and pleasures, and 
 the rest ? I tell you this is no easy matter; if it 
 were, what need all those prayers, sighs, watch¬ 
 ings ? What need we be so backward to it ? Nay, 
 do you not see, that some men, before they will 
 set about this work, they will even venture the loss 
 of their souls, heaven, God, Christ, and all ? What 
 means else all those delays and put-offs, saying, 
 Stay a little longer, I am loth to leave my sins 
 
 • while I am so young, and in health ? Again, 
 what is the reason else, that others do it so by the 
 halves, coldly and seldom, notwithstanding they 
 are convinced over and over; nay, and also pro¬ 
 mise to amend, and yet all’s in vain ? I will assure 
 you, to cut off right hands, and to pluck out right 
 eyes, is no pleasure to the flesh. 
 
 3. The doctrine of perseverance is also cross to 
 
 the flesh; which is not only to begin, but for to 
 hold out, not only to bid fair, and to say, Would 
 1 had heaven, but so to know Christ, to put on 
 Christ, and walk with Christ as to come to heaven. 
 Indeed, it is no great matter to begin to look for 
 heaven, to begin to seek the Lord, to begin to 
 shun sin. 0 but it is a very great matter to con¬ 
 tinue with God’s approbation! ‘ My servant 
 
 Caleb,’ saith God, is a man of ‘ another spirit, he 
 hath followed me,’ followed me always, he hath 
 continually followed me, ‘ fully, he shall possess 
 the land.’ No. xiv. 24. Almost all the many thou¬ 
 sands of the children of Israel in their generation, 
 
 ’ (>ur holiest, happiest duties, if they interfere with a simple 
 and exclusive reliance upon Christ for justification, must be 
 accursed in our esteem; while, if they are fulfilled in a proper 
 spirit ot love to him, they become our most blessed privileges. 
 Header, be jealous of your motives.—(E d.) 
 
 fell short of perseverance when they walked from 
 Egypt towards the land of Canaan. Indeed they 
 went to the work at first pretty willingly, hut they 
 were very short-winded, they were quickly out of 
 hreath, and in their hearts they turned hack again 
 into Egypt. 
 
 It is an easy matter for a man to run hard for 
 a spurt, for a furlong, for a mile or two; 0, hut to 
 hold out for a hundred, for a thousand, for ten 
 thousand miles: that man that doth this, he must 
 look to meet with cross, pain, and wearisomeness 
 to the flesh, especially if as he goeth he meeteth 
 with briars and quagmires, and other incum¬ 
 brances, that make his journey so much the more 
 painfuller. 
 
 Nay, do you not see with your eyes daily, that 
 perseverance is a very great part of the cross? 
 why else do men so soon grow weary? I could 
 point out a many, that after they have followed the 
 ways of God about a twelvemonth, others it may 
 be two, three, or four, some more, and some less 
 years, they have been beat out of wind, have 
 taken up their lodging and rest before they have 
 got half-way to heaven, some in this, and some in 
 that sin ; and have secretly, nay, sometimes openly 
 said, that the way is too strait, the race too long, 
 the religion too holy, and cannot hold out, I can 
 go no farther. 
 
 4, 5, 6. And so likewise of the other three, to 
 wit, patience, self-denial, communion, and commu¬ 
 nication with and to the poor saints. How hard 
 are these things? It is an easy matter to deny 
 another man, but it is not so easy a matter to 
 deny one’s self; to deny myself out of love to God, 
 to his gospel, to his saints, of this advantage, and 
 of that gain; nay, of that which otherwise I might 
 lawfully do, were it not for offending them. That 
 scripture is but seldom read, and seldomer put in 
 practice, which saith, ‘ 1 will eat no flesh while 
 the world standeth, if it make my brother to offend. 
 1 Co. viii. 13. Again, ‘ We that are strong ought to 
 hear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please 
 ourselves.’ Ro. xv. 1. But how froward, how hasty, 
 how peevish, and self-resolved are the generality 
 of professors at this day! Also, how little con¬ 
 sidering the poor, unless it be to say, Be thou 
 warmed and filled! But to give is a seldom work; 
 also especially to give to any poor. Ga. vi. 10. 1 tell 
 you all things are cross to flesh and blood; and 
 that man that hath hut a watchful eye over the 
 flesh, and also some considerable measure of 
 strength against it, he shall find his heart in these 
 things like unto a starting horse, that is rid with¬ 
 out a curbing bridle, ready to start at everything 
 that is offensive to him; yea, and ready to run 
 away too, do what the rider can. 
 
 It is the cross which keepeth those that are 
 kept from heaven. 1 am persuaded, were it not 
 
338 
 
 THE HEAVEN IVY FOOTMAN. 
 
 for the cross, where we have one professor, we 
 should have twenty; but this cross, that is it which 
 spoileth all. 
 
 Some men, as I said before, when they come at 
 the cross they can go no farther, but bach again 
 to their sins they must go. Others they stumble 
 at it, and break their necks; others again, when 
 they see the cross is approaching, they turn aside 
 to the left hand, or to the right hand, and so think 
 to get to heaven another way; but they will be 
 deceived. * Yea, and all that will live godly in 
 Christ Jesus shall,’ mark, shall be sure to ‘ suffer 
 persecution.’ 2 Ti. m. 12. There are but few when 
 they come at the cross, cry, ‘ Welcome cross, as 
 some of the martyrs did to the stake they were 
 burned at. Therefore, if thou meet with the cross 
 in thy journey, in what manner soever it be, be 
 not daunted, and say, Alas, what shall I do now! 
 But rather take courage, knowing, that by the 
 cross is the way to the kingdom. Can a man 
 believe in Christ and not be hated by the devil ? 
 Can he make a profession of this Christ, and that 
 sweetly and convincingly, and the children of Satan 
 hold their tongue ? Can darkness agree with 
 light ? or the devil endure that Christ Jesus should 
 be honoured both by faith and a heavenly conversa¬ 
 tion, and let that soul alone at quiet ? Bid you never 
 read, that ‘ the dragon persecuteth the woman ?’ 
 Re. xii. And that Christ saith, ‘ In the world ye 
 shall have tribulation.’ Jn. xvi. 33. 
 
 The Ninth Direction. Beg of God that he would 
 do these two things for thee: First , Enlighten 
 thine understanding. And, Second, Inflame thy 
 will. If these two be but effectually done, there 
 is no fear but thou wilt go safe to heaven. 
 
 [First, Enlighten thine understanding .] One of 
 the great reasons why men and women do so little 
 regard the other world, it is because they see 
 so little of it. 1 And the reason why they see so 
 little of it is because they have their understand¬ 
 ings darkened. And therefore, saith Paul, do not 
 you believers ‘ walk as do other Gentiles, even in 
 the vanity of their minds, having the understand¬ 
 ing darkened, being alienated from the life of God 
 through the ignorance,’ or foolishness ‘ that is in 
 them, because of the blindness of their heart.’ 
 Ep. iv. 17, is. Walk not as those, run not with them: 
 alas, poor souls, they have their understandings 
 darkened, their hearts blinded, and that is the 
 reason they have such undervaluing thoughts of 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, and the salvation of their 
 souls. For when men do come to^ see the things 
 
 1 This is a very solemn warning. Bat is it asked how are 
 we to see that that is invisible, or to imagine bliss that is past 
 our understanding? The reply is, treasure up in your heart 
 those glimpses of glory contained in the Word. Be daily in 
 communion with the world of spirits, and it may be your lot, 
 with Paul, to have so soul-ravishing a sense of eternal realities, 
 as scarcely to know whether you are in the body or not.—(E d.) 
 
 of another world, what a God, what a Christ, what 
 a heaven, and what an eternal glory there is to be 
 enjoyed: also when they see that it is possible for 
 them to have a share in it, I tell you it will make 
 them run through thick and thin to enjoy it. 
 Moses, having a sight of this, because his under¬ 
 standing was enlightened, he feared not the wrath 
 of the king, but chose ‘ rather to suffer affliction 
 with the people of God, than to enjoy the plea¬ 
 sures of sin for a season.’ He refused to be called 
 the son of the king’s daughter; accounting it won¬ 
 derful riches to be counted worthy of so much as 
 to suffer for Christ, with the poor despised saints; 
 and that was because he saw him who was in¬ 
 visible, and ‘ had respect unto the recompence of 
 the reward.’ He. xi. 24—27. And this is that which 
 the apostle usually prayeth for in his epistles for 
 the saints, namely, ‘ That they might know what 
 is the hope of God’s calling, and the riches of the 
 
 glory of his inheritance in the saints.’ Ep. i. 18. And 
 that they might ‘ be able to comprehend with all 
 saints, what is the breadth, and length, and depth, 
 and height, and to know the love of Christ which 
 passeth knowledge.’ Ep. m. is, 19. Pray therefore 
 that God would enlighten thy understanding: that 
 will be very great help unto thee. It will make 
 thee endure many a hard brunt for Christ; as Paul 
 saith, ‘ After ye were illuminated, ye endured a 
 great fight of afflictions. You took joyfully the 
 spoiling of your goods, knowing in yourselves that 
 ye have in heaven a better and an enduring sub- 
 
 jstanca/ He. x. 32— sIT TPttrere be never such a rare 
 jewel lie just in a man’s way, yet if he sees it not, 
 he will rather trample upon it than stoop for it, 
 and it is because he sees it not. Why, so it is 
 here, though heaven be worth never so much, and 
 thou hast never so much need of it, yet if thou see 
 it not, that is, have not thy understanding opened 
 or enlightened to see it, theu wilt not regard at 
 all: therefore cry to the Lord for enlightening 
 grace, and say, Lord, open my blind eyes: Lord, 
 take the vail off my dark heart, show me the 
 things of the other world, and let me see the sweet¬ 
 ness, glbryT'and excellency of them for Christ his 
 sake. This is the first. •n 
 
 [Second . Inflame thy will. ] Cry to God that he 
 would inflame thy will also with the things of the 
 other world. For when a man’s will is fully set to 
 do such or such a thing, then it must be a very hard 
 matter that shall hinder that man from bringing 
 about his end. When Paid’s will was set resolvedly 
 to go up to Jerusalem, though it was signified to 
 him before what he should there suffer, he was not 
 daunted at all; nay, saith he, ‘ 1 am ready,’ or 
 willing, ‘ not to be bound only, but also to die at 
 Jerusalem for the name of the Lord J esus.’ Ac. xxi. 13. 
 His will was inflamed with love to Christ : and 
 therefore all the persuasions that could be used 
 
THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 389 
 
 wrought nothing at all. Your self-willed people 
 nobody knows what to do with them; we used to 
 say, lie will have his own will, do all what you 
 can. Indeed to have such a will for heaven, is an 
 admirable advantage to a man that undertaketh 
 the race thither; a man that is resolved, and hath 
 his will fixed, saith he, I will do my best to ad¬ 
 vantage myself; I will do my worst to hinder my 
 enemies ; I will not give out as long as I can stand; 
 
 I will have it or 1 will lose my life; ‘though he 
 slay me yet will I trust in him.’ Jobxiii. 15. ‘ I will 
 
 not let thee go except thou bless me.’ Ge. xxxii. 2 G. 
 
 I will, I will, l will, 0 this blessed inflamed will 
 for heaven! What is like it ? If a man be will¬ 
 ing, then any argument shall be matter of encour¬ 
 agement ; but if unwilling, then any argument 
 shall give discouragement; this is seen both in 
 saints and sinners; in them that are the children 
 of God, and also those that are the children of the 
 devil. As, 
 
 1. The saints of old, they being willing and 
 resolved for heaven, what could stop them ? Could 
 fire or faggot, sword or halter, stinking dungeons, 
 whips, bears, bulls, lions, cruel rackings, stoning, 
 starving, nakedness, &c. iie.xi. ‘ Nay, in all these 
 things they were more than conquerors, through 
 him that loved them Ro. viii. 37 . who had also made 
 them ‘ willing in the day of his power.’ 
 
 2. See again, on the other side, the children of 
 the devil, because they are not willing [to run to 
 heaven], how many shifts and starting-holes they 
 will have. I have married a wife, I have a farm, 
 I shall offend my landlord, 1 shall offend my 
 master, I shall lose my trading, I shall lose my 
 pride, my pleaures, I shall be mocked and scoffed, 
 therefore I dare not come. I, saith another, will 
 stay till I am older, till my children are out of 
 sight, till I am got a little aforehand in the world, 
 till I have done this and that, and the other busi¬ 
 ness ; but alas, the thing is, they are not willing; 
 for were they but soundly willing, these, and a 
 thousand such as these, would hold them no faster 
 than the cords held Samson when he broke them 
 like burned flax. Ju. xv. u. I tell you the will is all: 
 that is one of the chief things which turns the 
 wheel either backwards or forwards; and God 
 knoweth that full well, and so likewise doth the 
 devil; and therefore they both endeavour very much 
 
 to strengthen the will of their ser- 
 [Lord wm-be-will.] ® . . . ,. , . r 
 
 vants. God, he is for making of 
 
 his a willing people to serve him; and the devil, 
 he doth what he can to possess the will and affec¬ 
 tion of those that are his, with love to sin; and 
 therefore when Christ comes close to the matter, 
 indeed, saith he, ‘ Ye will not come to me.’ Jn.v.40. 
 
 ‘ How often would I have gathered you as a hen 
 doth her chickens, and ye would not.’ Lu. xiii. 34. 
 The devil had possessed their wills, and so long 
 
 he was sure enough of them. 0 therefore erv 
 hard to God to inflame thy will for heaven and 
 Christ: thy will, I say, if that be rightly set for 
 heaven, thou wilt not be beat off with discourage¬ 
 ments; and this was the reason that, when Jacob 
 wrestled with the angel, though he lost a limb, as 
 it were, and the hollow of his thigh was put out 
 of joint, as he Avrestled with him, yet, saith he, 
 I will not,’ mark, ‘ I will not let thee go except 
 thou bless me.’ Ge. xxxii. 24-26. Get thy will tipt 
 with the heavenly grace, and resolution against 
 all discouragements, and then thou goest full speed 
 for heaven; but if thou falter in 
 thy will, and be not found there, 
 thou wilt run hobbling and halting all the way 
 thou runnest, and also to be sure thou wilt fall 
 short at the last. The Lord give thee a will and 
 
 [Lord Will-bc-will.] 
 
 courage 
 
 Thus have I done with directing thee how to 
 run to the kingdom ; be sure thou keep in memory 
 what 1 have said unto thee, lest thou lose thy way. 
 But because I would have thee think of them, take 
 all in short in this little bit of paper. 
 
 1. Get into the way. 2. Then study on it. 
 
 3. Then strip, and lay aside everything that would 
 hinder. 4. Beware of bye-paths. 5. Do not gaze 
 and stare too much about thee, and be sure to pon¬ 
 der the path of thy feet. 6. Do not stop for any 
 that call after thee, whether it be the world, the 
 flesh, or the devil; for all these will hinder thy 
 journey, if possible. 7. Be not daunted with any 
 discouragements thou meetest with as thou goest. 
 8. Take heed of stumbling at the cross. 9. Cry 
 hard to God for an enlightened heart, and a willing 
 mind, and God give thee a prosperous journey. 
 Yet before I do quite take my leave of thee, let 
 me give thee a few motives along with thee. It 
 may be they will be as good as a pair of spurs to 
 prick on thy lumpish heart in this rich voyage, 1 
 
 [V. Nine motives to urge us on in the way.] 
 
 The First Motive. Consider there is no way but 
 this, thou must either win or lose. If thou win- 
 nest, then heaven, God, Christ, glory, ease, peace, 
 life, yea, life eternal, is thine; thou must be made 
 equal to the angels in heaven; thou shalt sorrow 
 no more, sigh no more, feel no more pain; thou 
 shalt be out of the reach of sin, hell, death, the 
 devil, the grave, and whatever else may endeavour 
 thy hurt. But contrariwise, and if thou lose, then 
 thy loss is heaven, glory, God, Christ, ease, peace, 
 
 1 How characteristic of Banyan is this sentence, ‘ the rich 
 voyage.’ God environing us about with his presence in time, 
 and eternal felicity in the desired haven : ‘ the lumpish heart ’ 
 at times apparently indifferent to the glorious harvest; ‘ a pair 
 of spurs ’ to prick us on in the course. The word voyage 
 (from via, a way) was in Bunyan’s time equally used for a 
 journey by sea or land, it is now limited to travelling by sea. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
390 
 
 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 and whatever else which tendeth to make eternity 
 comfortable to the saints; besides, thou procurest 
 eternal death, sorrow, pain, blackness, and dark¬ 
 ness, fellowship with devils, together with the 
 everlasting damnation of thy own soul. 
 
 The Second Motive. Consider that this devil, 
 this hell, death and damnation, followeth after thee 
 as hard as they can drive, and have their commis 1 
 sion so to do by the law, against which thou hast 
 sinned; and therefore for the Lord’s sake make 
 haste. 
 
 The Third Motive. If they seize upon thee be¬ 
 fore thou get to the city of Refuge, they will put 
 an everlasting stop to thy journey. This also cries, 
 Run for it. 
 
 The Fourth Motive. Know also, that now 
 heaven gates, the heart of Christ, with his arms, 
 are wide open to receive thee. 0 methinks that 
 this consideration, that the devil followeth after to 
 destroy, and that Christ standeth open-armed to 
 receive, should make thee reach out and fly with 
 all haste and speed ! And therefore, 
 
 The Fifth Motive. Keep thine eye upon the prize; 
 be sure that thy eyes be continually upon the pro¬ 
 fit thou art like to get. The reason why men are 
 so apt to faint in their race for heaven, it lieth 
 chiefly in either of these two things: 
 
 1. They do not seriously consider the worth of 
 the prize; or else if they do, they are afraid it is 
 too good for them ; but most lose heaven for want 
 of considering the price and the worth of it. And 
 therefore, that thou mayst not do the like, keep 
 thine eye much upon the excellency, the sweetness, 
 the beauty, the comfort, the peace, that is to be 
 had there by those that win the prize. This was 
 that which made the apostle run through anything; 
 good report, evil report, persecution, affliction, 
 hunger, nakedness, peril by sea, and peril by land, 
 bonds and imprisonments. Also it made others 
 endure to be stoned, sawn asunder, to have their 
 eyes bored out with augurs, their bodies broiled on 
 gridirons, their tongues cut out of their mouths, 
 boiled in cauldrons, thrown to the wild beasts, 
 burned at the stakes, whipped at posts, and a 
 thousand other fearful torments, ‘while they looked 
 not at the things which are seen,’ as the things of 
 this world, ‘but at the things which are not seen; 
 for the things which are seen are temporal; but 
 the things which are not seen are eternal.’ 2 Co.iv. is. 
 0 this word ‘eternal,’ that was it that made 
 them, that when they might have had deliverance, 
 they would not accept of it; for they knew in the 
 world to come they should have a better resurrec¬ 
 tion. He. xi. 35 , 
 
 2. And do not let the thoughts of the rareness 
 of the place make thee say in thy heart, This is 
 too good for me; for I tell thee, heaven is prepared 
 for whosoever will accept of it, and they shall be 
 
 entertained with hearty good welcome. Consider, 
 therefore, that as bad as thou have got thither ; 
 thither went scrubbed,* beggarly Lazarus, &c. 
 Nay, it is prepared for the poor: ‘ Hearken, my 
 beloved brethren,’ saith James, take notice of it, 
 * Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich 
 in faith, and heirs of the kingdom ?’ Ja. ii. 5. 
 Therefore take heart and run, man. And, 
 
 The Siocth Motive. Think much of them that 
 are gone before. First, How really they got into 
 the kingdom. Secondly, How safe they are in 
 the arms of Jesus; would they be here again for 
 a thousand worlds ? Or if they were, would they 
 be afraid that God would not make them welcome ? 
 Thirdly, What would they judge of thee if they 
 knew thy heart began to fail thee in thy journey, 
 or thy sins began to allure thee, and to persuade 
 thee to stop thy race ? would they not call thee a 
 thousand fools ? and say, 0, that he did but see 
 what we see, feel what we feel, and taste of the 
 dainties that we taste of! 0, if he were here one 
 quarter of an hour, to behold, to see, to feel, to 
 taste and enjoy but the thousandth part of what 
 we enjoy, what would he do ? What would he suf¬ 
 fer ? What would he leave undone ? Would he 
 favour sin ? Would he love this world below ? 
 Would he be afraid of friends, or shrink at the 
 most fearful threatenings that the greatest tyrants 
 could invent to give him ? Nay, those who have 
 had but a sight of these things by faith, when they 
 have been as far off from them as heaven from 
 earth, yet they have been able to say with a com¬ 
 fortable and merry heart, as the bird that sings in 
 the spring, that this and more shall not keep them 
 from running to heaven. Sometimes, when my 
 base heart hath been inclining to this world, and 
 to loiter in my journey towards heaven, the very 
 consideration of the glorious saints and angels in 
 heaven, what they enjoy, and what low thoughts 
 they have of the things of this world together, 
 how they would befool me if they did but know 
 that my heart was drawing back; [this] hath 
 caused me to rush forward, to disdain these poor, 
 low, empty, beggarly things, and to say to my 
 soul, Come, soul, let us not be weary; let us see 
 what this heaven is; let us even venture all for it, 
 and try if that will quit the cost. Surely Abraham, 
 David, Paul, and the rest of the saints of God, 
 were as wise as any are now, and yet they lost all 
 for this glorious kingdom. 0 ! therefore, throw 
 away stinking lusts, follow after righteousness, 
 love the Lord Jesus, devote thyself unto his fear, 
 I’ll warrant thee he will give thee a goodly recom¬ 
 pense. Reader, what sayst thou to this ? Art 
 [thou] resolved to follow me ? Nay, resolve if thou 
 
 7 ‘ Scrubbedworthless, vile, insignificant in the sight of 
 man, who judges from the outward, temporal condition; but, 
 in the case of Lazarus, precious in the sight of God.—(E d.) 
 
THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 391 
 
 cnnst to get before me. * So run, that yo may ob¬ 
 tain.’ 
 
 The Seventh Motive. To encourage thee a little 
 farther, set to the work, and when thou hast run 
 thyself down weary, then the Lord Jesus will take 
 thee up, and carry thee. Is not this enough to 
 make any poor soul begin his race ? Thou, per¬ 
 haps, criest, 0 but I am feeble, I am lame, be. : 
 well, but Christ hath a bosom; consider, therefore, 
 when thou hast run thyself down weary, he will put 
 thee in his bosom: ‘ He shall gather the lambs 
 with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and 
 shall gently lead those that are with young.’ is.xi. 11 . 
 This is the way that fathers take to encourage 
 their children, saying; Run, sweet babe, while thou 
 art weary, and then I will take thee up and carry 
 thee. ‘ lie will gather his lambs with his arm, 
 and carry them in his bosom.’ When they are 
 weary they shall ride. 1 
 
 The Eighth Motive. Or else he will convey new 
 strength from heaven into thy soul, which will be 
 as well—‘ The youths shall faint and be weary, 
 and the young men shall utterly fall; but they that 
 wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they 
 shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall 
 run and not be weary, they shall walk and not 
 faint.’ is. xL so, 3i. What shall I say besides what 
 hath already been said ? Thou shalt have good 
 and easy lodging, good and wholesome diet, the 
 bosom of Christ to lie in, the joys of heaven to feed 
 on. Shall I speak of the satiety and of the dura¬ 
 tion of all these ? Verily to describe them to the 
 height it is a work too hard for me to do.’ 2 
 
 The Ninth Motive. Again methinks the very 
 industry of the devil, and the industry of his serv¬ 
 ants, Ac., should make you that have a desire to 
 heaven and happiness to run apace. Why, the 
 devil, he will lose no time, spare no pains, also 
 neither will his servants, both to seek the destruc¬ 
 tion of themselves and others; and shall not we be 
 as industrious for our own salvation? Shall the 
 world venture the damnation of their souls for a 
 poor corruptible crown; and shall not we venture 
 the loss of a few trifles for an eternal crown ? 
 Shall they venture the loss of eternal friends, as 
 God to love, Christ to redeem, the Holy Spirit to 
 comfort, heaven for habitation, saints and angels 
 for company, and all this to get and hold com¬ 
 munion with sin, and this world, and a few base, 
 drunken, swearing, lying, covetous wretches, like 
 themselves ? And shall not we labour as hard, 
 
 1 V hat an inexhaustible source of comfort is contained in 
 this passage. Blessed carriage, in which the poorest, weakest 
 ot Christ s liock shall ride. Millions of gold could not purchase 
 the privilege thus to ride in ease and safety, supported and 
 guarded by Omnipotence, and guided by Omniscience.—(E d.) 
 
 - Summed up by the Psalmist, ‘Happy is that people that 
 is in such a case. Happy is that people whose God is the 
 
 Lord.’ Ps. cxliv. 15 .—(Ed.) 
 
 run as fast, seek as diligently, nay, a hundred times 
 more diligently, for the company of these glorious 
 eternal friends, though with the loss of such as 
 these, nay, with the loss of ten thousand times 
 better than these poor, low, base, contemptible 
 things ? Shall it be said at the last day, that 
 wicked men made more haste to hell than you did 
 make to heaven ? 3 That they spent more hours, 
 days, and that early and late, for hell, than you 
 spent for that which is ten thousand thousand of 
 thousands times better ? 0 let it not be so, but 
 
 run with all might and main. 
 
 Thus you see I have here spoken something, 
 though but little. Now I shall come to make 
 some use and application of what hath been said, 
 and so conclude. 
 
 [VI. Nine Uses of this Subject.] 
 
 The first use. You see here, that he that will 
 go to heaven, he must run for it; yea, and not 
 only run, but so run, that is, as I have said, to 
 run earnestly, to run continually, to strip off every 
 thing that would hinder in his race with the rest. 
 Well then, do you so run ? And now let us examine 
 a little. 
 
 1. Art thou got into the right way? Art thou 
 in Christ’s righteousness? Do not say yes in thy 
 heart, when in truth there is no such matter. It 
 is a dangerous thing, you know, for a man to 
 think he is in the right wav, when he is in the 
 wrong. It is the next way for him to lose his 
 way, and not only'' so, but if he run for heaven, as 
 thou sayst thou dost, even to lose that too. 0 
 this is the misery of most men, to persuade them¬ 
 selves that they run right, when they never had 
 one foot in the way! The Lord give thee under¬ 
 standing here, or else thou art undone for ever. 
 Prithee, soul, search when was it thou turned out 
 of thy sins and righteousness into the righteous¬ 
 ness of Jesus Christ. I say, dost thou see thyself 
 in him ? and is he more precious to thee than the 
 whole world ? Is thy mind always musing on 
 him ? Dost thou love to be talking of him—and also 
 to be walking with him? Dost thou count his 
 company more precious than the whole world? 
 Dost thou count all things but poor, lifeless, empty, 
 vain things, without communion with him? Doth 
 his company sweeten all things—and his absence 
 irabitter all things ? Soul, I beseech thee, be 
 serious, and lay it to heart, and do not take things 
 of such weighty concernment as the salvation or 
 damnation of thy soul, without good ground. 
 
 8 IIow severe and cutting, but how just, is this reflection 
 upon many, that wicked men, for the gratification of destruc¬ 
 tive propensities, should evince greater zeal aud perseverance 
 to light up the tire of hell in their consciences, than some pro¬ 
 fessing Christians do in following after peace and holiness. 
 ‘ Go to the ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways and be wise.’ 
 -(Ed.) 
 
392 
 
 THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 2. Art thou unladen of the tilings of this world, 
 as pride, pleasures, profits, lusts, vanities? What! 
 dost thou think to run fast enough with the world, 
 thy sins and lusts in thy heart? I tell thee, soul, 
 they that have laid all aside, every weight, every 
 sin, and are got into the nimblest posture, they 
 find work enough to run; so to run as to hold 
 out. To run through all that opposition, all these 
 jostles, all these rubs, over all these stumbling- 
 blocks, over all the snares from all these intangle- 
 ments, that the devil, sin, the world, and their 
 own hearts, lay before them; I tell thee, if thou 
 art a^oino; heavenward, thou wilt find it no small 
 or easy matter. Art thou therefore discharged 
 and unladen of these things? Never talk of go- 
 ins; to heaven if thou art not. It is to be feared 
 thou wilt he found among the many that ‘ will 
 seek to enter in, and shall not be able.’ Lu. xm. 24. 
 
 The second use. If so, then, in the next place, 
 what will become of them that are grown weary 
 before they are got half way thither ? Why, man, 
 it is he that holdeth out to the end that must be 
 saved; it is he that overcometh that shall inherit 
 all things; it is not every one that begins. Agrippa 
 gave a fair step for a sudden, he steps almost into 
 the bosom of Christ in less than half an hour. 
 Thou, saitli he to Paul, hast ‘ almost persuaded 
 me to be a Christian.’ Ac. xxvi. 26. Ah ! but it was 
 but almost; and so he had as good have been 
 never a whit; he stept fair indeed, but yet lie 
 stept short; he was hot while he was at it, but he 
 was quickly out of wind. 0 this but almost ! I 
 tell you, this but almost, it lost his soul. Methinks 
 I have seen sometimes how these poor wretches 
 that get but almost to heaven, how fearfully their 
 almost, and their but almost, will torment them 
 in hell; when they shall cry out in the bitterness 
 of their souls, saying, I was almost a Christian. 
 I was almost got into the kingdom, almost out of 
 the hands of the devil, almost out of my sins, almost 
 from under the curse of God ; almost , and that 
 was all ; almost, but not altogether. 0 that I 
 should be almost at heaven, and should not go 
 quite through ! Friend, it is a sad thing to sit 
 down before we are in heaven, and to grow weary 
 before we come to the place of rest; and if it should 
 be thy case, I am sure thou dost not so run as to 
 obtain. But again, 
 
 The third use. In the next place, What then 
 will become of them that some time since were 
 running post-haste to heaven, insomuch that they 
 seemed to outstrip many, but now are running as 
 fast back again? Do you think those will ever 
 come thither? What, to run back again, back 
 again to sin, to the world, to the devil, back again 
 to the lusts of the flesh? 0! ‘It had been better 
 for them not to have known the way of righteous¬ 
 ness, than after they have known it, to turn,’ to 
 
 turn back again, * from the holy commandment.’ 
 
 2 Pe. ii. 22. Those men shall not only he damned 
 for sin, but for professing to all the world that 
 sin is better than Christ; for the man that runs 
 back again, he doth as good as say, ‘I have tried 
 Christ, and I have tried sin, and I do not find so 
 much profit in Christ as in sin.’ 1 I say, this man 
 declareth this, even by his running back again. 
 0 sad! what a doom they will have, who were 
 almost at heaven-gates, and then run back again. 
 
 ‘ If any draw back,’ saith Christ [by his apostle], 
 ‘my soul shall have no pleasure in him.’ He. x. 38 . 
 Again, ‘ No man having put his hand to the 
 plough,’ that is, set forward, in the ways of God, 
 
 ‘ and looking back,’ turning back again, ‘is fit for 
 the kingdom of God.’ Lu. ix. 62 . And if not fit for 
 the kingdom of heaven, then for certain he must 
 needs be fit for the fire of hell. And therefore, 
 saith the apostle, those that ‘ bring forth ’ these 
 apostatizing fruits, as ‘ briars and thorns, are 
 rejected, and nigh unto cursing, whose end is to 
 be burned.’ lie. vi. 8 . 0 there is never another 
 
 Christ to save them by bleeding and dying for 
 them! And if they shall not escape that neglect, 
 then how shall they escape that reject and turn 
 their back upon ‘ so great a salvation ? ’ He. ii. 3 . 
 And if the righteous, that is, they that run for it, 
 will find work enough to get to heaven, ‘ then 
 where will the ungodly’ backsliding ‘sinner ap¬ 
 pear?’ or if Judas the traitor, or Francis Spira 
 the backslider, 2 were but now alive in the world to 
 whisper these men in the ear a little, and tell 
 them what it hath cost their souls for backsliding, 
 surely it would stick by them and make them 
 afraid of running back again, so long as they had 
 one day to live in this world. 
 
 The fourth use. So again, fourthly, how unlike 
 to these men’s passions 3 will those be that have all 
 this while sat still, and have not so much as set 
 one foot forward to the kingdom of heaven. Surely 
 he that backslideth, and he that sitteth still in 
 sin, they are both of one mind; the one he will 
 not stir, because he loveth his sins, and the things 
 of this world; the other he runs back again, be¬ 
 cause he loveth his sins, and the things of this 
 world: is it not one and the same thing ? They 
 are all one here, and shall not one and the same 
 hell hold them hereafter! He is an ungodly one 
 that never looked after Christ, and he is an un- 
 
 1 How awful a warning is this to the backslider. A wicked 
 professor is a practical atheist and a contemptible hypocrite. 
 But the backslider is worse, he proclaims, in his downward 
 course, the awful blasphemy that ‘ sin is better than Christ j* 
 ‘ hell is preferable to heaven.’ 0 1 that some poor bewildered 
 backslider may, by a Divine blessing upon the voice of Jiunyan, 
 be arrested in his mad career.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 See the Note on Francis Spira on page 383. 
 
 3 ‘ Passionsthe old English term for sufferings. It is 
 used in Acts i. emphatically, to express the last sufferings of 
 the Saviour; as also in what is called ‘ passion week.’— (Ed.) 
 
 
THE HEAVENLY FOOTMAN. 
 
 393 
 
 godly one tliat did once look after him and then 
 ran quite back again; and therefore that word 
 must certainly drop out of the mouth of Christ 
 against them both, ‘ Depart from me, ye cursed, 
 into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his 
 angels/ Mat. xxv. 41, 
 
 The fifth use. Again, here you may see, in the 
 next place, tliat is, they that^ will have heaven 
 must run for it; then this calls aloud to those 
 who began but a while since to run, I say, for 
 them to mend their pace if they intend to win; 
 you know that they which come hindmost, had 
 need run fastest. Friend, I tell thee, there be 
 those that have run ten years to thy one, nay, 
 twenty to thy five, and yet if thou talk with them, 
 sometimes they will say they doubt they shall 
 come late enough. How then will it be with thee ? 
 Look to it therefore that thou delay no time, not 
 an hour’s time, but speedily part with all, with 
 everything that is an hiuderance to thee in thy 
 journey, and run; yea, and so run that thou 
 mayest obtain. 
 
 The sixth use. Again, sixthly, You that are old 
 professors, take you heed that the young striplings 
 of Jesus, that began to strip but the other day, 
 do not outrun you, so as to have that scripture 
 fulfilled on you, ‘ The first shall be last, and the 
 last first;’ which will be a shame to you, and a 
 credit for them. What, for a young soldier to be 
 ' more courageous than he that hath been used to 
 wars! To you that are hindmost, I say, strive 
 to outrun them that are before you; and you that 
 are foremost, I say, hold your ground, and keep 
 before them in faith and love, if possible; for in¬ 
 deed that is the right running, for one to strive to 
 outrun another; even for the hindmost to endea¬ 
 vour to overtake the foremost, and he that is be¬ 
 fore should be sure to lay out himself to keep his 
 ground, even to the very utmost. But then, 
 
 The seventh use. Again, How basely do they 
 behave themselves, how unlike are they to win, 
 that think it enough to keep company with the 
 hindmost? There are some men that profess 
 themselves such as run for heaven as well as any; 
 yet if there be but any lazy, slothful, cold, half¬ 
 hearted professors in the country, they will be 
 sure to take example by them; they think if they 
 can but keep pace with them they shall do fair; 
 but these do not consider that the hindmost lose 
 the prize. You may know it, if you will, that it 
 cost the foolish virgins dear for their coming too 
 late ‘Ihcy that were ready went in with him, 
 and the door was shut. Afterward,’mark, ‘after¬ 
 ward came the other,’ the foolish, ‘virgins, say- 
 ing, Lord, Lord, open to us; but he answered, 
 and said, Depart, ‘ I know you not.’ Mat. xxv. io-] 2 . 
 Depart, lazy professors, cold professors, slothful 
 professors. 0! methinks the Word of God is so 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 plain for the overthrow of your lazy professors, 
 that it is to be wondered men do take no more 
 notice of it. How was Lot’s wife served for runn¬ 
 ing lazily, and for giving but one look behind her, 
 after the things she left in Sodom? How was 
 Esau served for staying too long before he came 
 for the blessing? And how were they served that 
 are mentioned in the 13th of Luke, ‘for staving 
 till the door was shut?’ Also the foolish virgins: 
 a heavy after-groau will they give that have thus 
 staid too long. It turned Lot’s wife into a pillar 
 of salt. Ge. xix. 26. It made Esau weep with an 
 exceeding loud and bitter cry. He. xii. n. It made 
 Judas hang himself: yea, and it will make thee 
 curse the day in which thou wast born, if thou 
 miss of the kingdom, as thou wilt certainly do, if 
 this be thy course. But, 
 
 The Eighth Use. Again, How, and if thou by 
 thy lazy running shouldst not only destroy thy¬ 
 self, but also thereby be the cause of the damna¬ 
 tion of some others, for thou being a professor 
 thou must think that others will take notice of 
 thee; and because thou art but a poor, cold, lazy 
 runner, and one that seeks to drive the world and 
 pleasure along with thee: why, thereby others will 
 think of doing so too. Nay, say they, why may 
 not we as well as he? He is a professor, and yet 
 he seeks for pleasures, riches, profits; he loveth 
 vain company, and lie is proud, and he is so and 
 so, and professeth that he is going for heaven ; 
 yea, and he saitli also he doth not fear but he shall 
 have entertainment; let us therefore keep pace 
 with him, we shall fare no worse than he. 0 how 
 fearful a thing will it be, if that thou slialt be in¬ 
 strumental of the ruin of others by thy halting in 
 the way of righteousness! Look to it, thou wilt 
 have strength little enough to appear before God, 
 to give an account of the loss of thy own soul; 
 thou needest not have to give an account for others; 
 why, thou didst stop them from entering in. How 
 wilt thou answer that saying, You would not enter 
 in yourselves, and them that would you hinder; 
 for that saying will be eminently fulfilled on them 
 that through their own idleness do keep themselves 
 out of heaven, and by giving of others the same 
 example, hinder them also. 
 
 The Ninth Use. Therefore, now to speak a 
 word to both of you, and so 1 shall conclude. 
 
 1. I beseech you, in the name of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, that none of you do run so lazily in the 
 way to heaven as to hinder either yourselves oi 
 others. I know that even he which runs laziest, 
 if he should see a man running for a temporal life, 
 if he should' so much neglect his own well-being 
 in this w r orld as to venture, when he is a-running 
 for his life, to pick up here and there a lock of 
 wool that hangeth by the way-side, or to step now 
 and then aside out of the way for to gather up a 
 
 50 
 
894. 
 
 THE HEAVENLY POOTMAN. 
 
 straw or two, or any rotten stick, I say, if lie 
 should do this when he is a-running for his life, 
 thou wouldest condemn him; and dost thou not 
 condemn thyself that dost the very same in effect, 
 nay worse, that loiterest in thy race, notwithstand¬ 
 ing thy soul, heaven, glory, and all is at stake. 
 Have a care, have a care, poor wretched sinner, 
 have a care. 
 
 2. If yet there shall he any that, notwithstand¬ 
 ing this advice, will still he daggering and loiter¬ 
 ing in the way to the kingdom of glory, be thou 
 so wise as not to take example by them. Learn 
 of no man further than he followeth Christ. But 
 look unto Jesus, who is not only ‘the author and 
 finisher of faith,’ but who did, ‘ for the joy that 
 was set before him, endured the cross, despising 
 the shame, and is now set down at the right hand 
 of God.’ He. xii.2. I sav, look to no man to learn 
 of him no further than he followeth Christ. ‘ Be 
 ye followers of me,’ saith Paul, ‘ even as I also 
 am of Christ.’ 1 Co. xi. 1. Though he was an emi¬ 
 nent man, yet his exhortation was, that none 
 should follow him any further than he followed 
 Christ. 
 
 VIT. Provocation. [To run with the foremost.] 
 
 How that you may be provoked to run with the 
 foremost, take notice of this. When Lot and his 
 wife were running from cursed Sodom to the moun¬ 
 tains, to save their lives, it is said that his wife 
 looked back from behind him, and she became a 
 pillar of salt; and yet you see that neither her 
 practice, nor the judgment of God that fell upon 
 her for the same, would cause Lot to look behind 
 him. I have sometimes wondered at Lot in this 
 particular; his wife looked behind her, and died 
 immediately, but let what would become of her, 
 Lot would not so much as look behind him to see 
 her. We do not read that he did so much as once 
 look where she was, or what was become of her; 
 his heart was indeed upon his journey, and well it 
 might; there was the mountain before him, and 
 the fire and brimstone behind him; his life lay at 
 stake, and he had lost it if he had but looked be¬ 
 hind him. Do thou so run; and in thy race re¬ 
 member Lot’s wife, and remember her doom; and 
 remember for what that doom did overtake her; 
 and remember that God made her an example for 
 all lazy runners, to the end of the world; and take 
 heed thou fall not after the same example. But, 
 if this will not provoke thee, consider thus, 
 
 1. Thy soul is thy own soul, that is either to be 
 saved or lost; thou shalt not lose my soul by thy 
 laziness. It is thy own soul, thy own ease, thy 
 
 own peace, thy own advantage, or disadvantage. 
 
 If it were my soul that thou art desired to be good 
 unto, methinks reason should move thee somewhat 
 to pity it. But alas, it is thy own, thy own soul. 
 
 ‘ What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the 
 whole world, and lose his own soul?’ Mar. viii. 3ft. 
 God’s people wish well to the souls of others, and 
 wilt not thou wish well to thy own? And if this 
 will not provoke thee, then think again, 
 
 2. If thou lose thy soul, it is thou also that 
 must bear the blame. It made Cain i n a spiritual 
 stark mad to consider that he had not 
 
 looked to his brother Abel’s soul. How much 
 more will it perplex thee to think, that thou hadst 
 not a care of thy own? And if this will not pro¬ 
 voke thee to bestir thyself, think again, 
 
 3. That if thou wilt not run, the people of God 
 are resolved to deal with thee even as Lot dealt 
 with his wife, that is, leave thee behind them. It 
 may be thou hast a father, mother, brother, Ac., 
 going post-haste to heaven, wouldst thou be will¬ 
 ing to be left behind them? Surely no. Again, 
 
 4. Will it not be a dishonour to thee to see the 
 very boys and girls in the country to have more 
 wit than thyself? It may be the servants of some 
 men, as the horsekeeper, ploughman, scullion, Ac., 
 are more looking after heaven than their masters. 
 
 I am apt to think sometimes, that more servants 
 than masters, that more tenants than landlords, 
 will inherit the kingdom of heaven. But is not 
 this a shame for them that are such? I am per¬ 
 suaded you scorn, that your servants should say 
 that they are wiser than you in the things of this 
 world; and yet I am bold to say, that many of 
 them are wiser than you in the things of the world 
 to come, which are of greater concernment. 
 
 VIII. A SHORT EXPOSTULATION. 
 
 Well then, sinner, what sayest thou? Where is 
 thy heart? Wilt thou run? Art thou resolved to 
 strip? Or art thou not? Think quickly, man, it 
 is no dallying in this matter. Confer not with flesh 
 and blood; look up to heaven, and see how thou 
 likest it; also to hell—of which thou mayst under¬ 
 stand something by my book, called, A few Sighs 
 from Hell; or the Groans of a damned Soul; which 
 I wish thee to read seriously over—and accordingly 
 devote thyself. If thou dost not know the way, 
 inquire at the Wbrd of God. If thou wantest com¬ 
 pany, cry for God’s Spirit. If thou wantest en¬ 
 couragement, entertain the promises. But be sure 
 thou begin by times; get into the way; run apace 
 and hold out to the end; and the Lord give thco 
 a prosperous journey. Bare well. 
 
THE 
 
 CITY; 
 
 HOLY 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE NEW JERUSALEM: 
 
 ■WHEREIN ITS GOODLY LIGHT, WALLS, GATES, ANGELS, AND THE MANNER OF TnEIR STANDING, ARE 
 EXPOUNDED: ALSO HER LENGTH AND BREADTH, TOGETHER WITH THE GOLDEN MEASUIIING-REED 
 EXPLAINED.*. AND THE GLORY OF ALL UNFOLDED. 
 
 AS ALSO THE NUMEROUSNESS OF ITS INHABITANTS; AND WHAT THE TREE AND WATER OF LIFE ARE, BY WHICH 
 
 THEY ARE SUSTAINED. 
 
 * Glorious things are spoken of thee , 0 city of God. —Psal. lxxxvii. 3. 
 
 ‘ And the name of the city from that day shall be, THE LORD IS THERE' —Ezek. xlviii. 35. 
 
 London: Printed in the year 16G5. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 Reader, it will require the utmost effort of your 
 powers of faith in perfectly well authenticated his¬ 
 tory to believe an almost incredible fact, but which 
 certainly took place in England, under the re¬ 
 formed church in 1665. It is, however, true, that 
 a number of eminently pious, loyal, sober, indus¬ 
 trious citizens were immured, by the forms of law, 
 within the walls of a small prison on Bedford 
 Bridge, over the river Ouse, for refusing to attend 
 the parish church or join in the service prescribed 
 by Acts of Parliament, according to the Book of 
 Common Prayer. The Ruler of the universe deigned, 
 to approve their conduct, and to visit these prisoners 
 with his peculiar approbation. He made their prison 
 a Bethel, the house of God, and the very gate of 
 heaven—thus richly blessing their souls for refusing 
 to render unto man the things that are God’s. 
 
 On the Lord’s day they were in the habit of 
 uniting in Divine worship. Their prison chamber 
 had received no prelatic consecration, but God was 
 in their midst to bless them. It happened one 
 morning that it came to the turn of a poor itine¬ 
 rant tinker, of extraordinary ability, to address his 
 fellow-prisoners—he had neither written nor even 
 prepared a sermon, and felt, for a time, at a loss 
 for a text or subject. At length, while turning 
 over the sacred pages, his eye was directed to the 
 description of the Holy City—New Jerusalem, 
 which in the latter day will gloriously descend from 
 heaven. His soul was enlarged and enlightened 
 witli the dazzling splendour of that sacred city— 
 his heart, which had felt ‘ empty, spiritless, and 
 barren,’ was baptized into his subject—‘ with a 
 few groans, he carried his meditations to the Lord 
 Jesus for a blessing, which he did forthwith grant 
 according to his grace, and then the preacher did 
 set before his brethren the spiritual meat, and they 
 did all eat and were well refreshed. While dis- 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 tributing the truth, it did so increase in his hand, 
 that of the fragments he gathered up a basket full, 
 and furnished this heavenly treatise.’ Such, in 
 substance, is the author’s interesting account of 
 the circumstances under which he wrote this hook. 
 He adds, with humility, that the men of this world 
 would laugh, in conceit, that one so low, con¬ 
 temptible, and inconsiderable should busy himself 
 with so hard and knotty a subject, but humbly 
 hopes, that though hut a babe in Christ, these 
 truths were revealed to him. To the real followers 
 of the lowly Jesus, the poor carpenter’s son, ‘who 
 had not where to lay his head’—of whom the Jews 
 said, ‘blowknoweth this man letters, having never 
 learned ?’ Jn. vii. 15 —despised by princes, prelates, 
 scribes, and pharisees—to such, the poverty, the 
 occupation, and the want of book-learning of our 
 author needs no apology. It is all-sufficient to 
 know that he was mighty in the Scriptures, and 
 deeply taught of the Holy Spirit. These are the 
 only sources of information relative to the New 
 Jerusalem; and in this treatise the author has 
 richly developed the treasures of the Bible in re¬ 
 ference to this solemn subject. To the same prison 
 discipline to which we are indebted for the Pil¬ 
 grim's Progress, we owe this, and other of the 
 labours of that eminent servant of Christ, John 
 Bunyan. Little did the poor tyrants who sent 
 him to jail think that, in such a place, he would 
 have this blessed vision of the heavenly city, or 
 that his severe sufferings would materially aid in 
 destroying their wicked craft. 
 
 The subject is one of pure revelation. The philo¬ 
 sopher—the theologian—the philologist—the his¬ 
 torian, and the antiquarian, are utterly unable to 
 grapple with that which is here so admirably 
 handled by a poor unlettered prisoner for Christ, 
 who, from the inexhaustible storehouse of God’s 
 
896 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 
 
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 Word, brings forth things new and old to comfort 
 the pilgrim, whether in a prison or a palace, and 
 to enliven his prospects on his way to this celestial 
 city. The New Jerusalem is a sublime object, and 
 we are bound humbly to adore that majestic mercy 
 which has condescended to give us such a glimpse 
 of the glory which, in its unbounded extent, passeth 
 all the powers of our earth-bound souls to conceive 
 It is a city whose builder and maker is God— 
 perfect as his infinite wisdom—strong as his omni¬ 
 potence—eternal as his existence. Who by search¬ 
 ing can find out the perfections of the Almighty— 
 they can only be traced by his revealed will, and 
 with our poor powers, even then but faintly. No 
 man ever possessed a more intimate knowledge of 
 the Bible, nor greater aptitude in quoting it than 
 Bunyan: he must have meditated in it day and 
 night; and in this treatise his biblical treasures 
 are wisely used. He begins with the foundation 
 of the walls, and shows that they are based upon 
 the truths taught to the twelve tribes, and by the 
 twelve apostles of the Lamb. All these truths are 
 perfectly handed down to us in holy Writ, alike im¬ 
 mutable and unalterable. Cursed are they that 
 add to that book, either by tradition or by the im¬ 
 position of creeds, rites, and ceremonies, and not 
 less cursed are they that take from it. These solid 
 foundations support walls and gates through which 
 nothing can enter that defileth. It is a pattern to 
 the church on earth, into which none should be 
 admitted but saints, known from their conversation 
 as living epistles. ‘ Not common stuff, not raked 
 out of the dunghills and muck heaps of this world, 
 and from among the toys of antichrist, but spiritual, 
 heavenly and glorious precious stones.' 1 This city 
 has but one street, showing the perfect unity among 
 all its inhabitants, and it is only under the per¬ 
 sonal reign of Christ that uniformity can exist. 
 The divisions among Christians arise, as Bunyan 
 justly concludes, from ‘ anticliristian rubbish, dark¬ 
 ness, and trumpery.’ The cause of all the confu¬ 
 sion is the lust of man for domination over con¬ 
 science, the government of which is the sole pre¬ 
 rogative of God, and this is strengthened by the 
 hope of passing through time in idleness, luxury, 
 and honour, under the false pretence of apostolic 
 descent transmitted through ceremonies worse than 
 childish. In our Lord’s days there was union 
 among his disciples, as there must be under his 
 personal reign in the New Jerusalem. But in the 
 times of the apostles the disciples were divided— 
 one was of Paul—another of Apollos, and others 
 of Cephas. The Holy Ghost issued laws to regu¬ 
 late the church in their disputes—not an act of 
 uniformity, but an injunction to the exercise of 
 mutual forbearance, ‘ Who art thou that judgest 
 
 another man’s servant/ * Let every man be fully 
 persuaded in his own mind/ Ro. xiv. 4,5. 
 
 After viewing the spiritual unity of the inhabi¬ 
 tants of this wonderful city, we are introduced to 
 its temple. How vast the edifice, to contain the 
 millions on millions of worshippers—every inha¬ 
 bitant being present in the general assembly and 
 church of the first-born! Utterly beneath our no¬ 
 tice are the most magnificent temples raised by 
 human ingenuity and vanity, when compared with 
 that of the Holy City. Its foundation, the immu¬ 
 tability of God—its extent, his divine immensity— 
 its walls, the omnipotence of Jehovah—its trea¬ 
 sury, the unsearchable riches of Christ—its wor¬ 
 shippers, the countless myriads of the nations of 
 those that are saved—its duration, ETERNITY. 
 It is the inheritance of the Son of God, Jehovah 
 Jesus, and is worthy of HIS inconceivable majesty. 
 In all the multitude not one hypocrite will be found 
 —not one sleeping worshipper—no wandering 
 thought—no fear of sin or of Satan and his perse¬ 
 cuting agents—death itself will be dead and swal¬ 
 lowed up in life and immortality—all are pure— 
 clothed in white robes—the palm of victory in their 
 hands—singing the glorious anthems of heaven. 
 0 my soul! who are they that are thus unspeak¬ 
 ably blessed? Shall I be a citizen of that city? 
 God has told us w T ho they are—not those who have 
 been cherished by the state—clothed with honour, 
 who have eaten the bread of idleness. No. ‘These 
 are they which came out of great tribulation.’ 
 Re. vii. 14. From all kindreds, nations, sects, and 
 parties—they who obeyed God and not man in all 
 matters of faith and holiness—those who submitted 
 to the Saviour, and have washed their robes and 
 made them white in the blood of the Lamb. How 
 vile is that sectarian spirit which in cold blood 
 consigns all but its own sect to eternal misery. 
 How strange the calculation of that Jewish Rabbi/ 
 who, dooming to miserable and eternal slavery all 
 but his own little party, gives to every Jew two 
 thousand eight hundred souls to be tormented and 
 tyrannically used as slaves. The bitter sectarian 
 who thus judges that all not of his own party shall 
 be destroyed, will do well to listen to the voice of 
 truth, ‘ With what judgment ye judge ye shall be 
 judged.’ All these absurd and wicked feelings 
 are fast wearing away before the advancing spirit 
 of Christianity. When the leaven of Divine truth 
 shall have spread over the whole earth, antichrist 
 will finally fall—then shall this New Jerusalem 
 descend from heaven, and become the glory of the 
 earth. How distant soever that period may seem, 
 it is irresistibly hastening on. Since Bunyan s 
 days, persecution has hid its ugly head—North 
 America, which was then a land of darkness, is 
 
 1 See pa°;e 435. 
 
 ' Solomon Jarclii. See Allen’s Modern Judaism , p. 275. 
 
EPISTLE TO FOLK. SORTS OF READERS. 
 
 397 
 
 now widely covered with gospel blessings—slavery 
 is coming to an end—India, the islands of the 
 Pacific, and the vast territories of Australia, are 
 yielding their increase. A few more centuries of 
 
 v O 
 
 progression, increasing in its ratio as time draws 
 to a close, will hasten on the coming of our Lord. 
 
 The growth in grace of every Christian goes on 
 thus gradually. Bunyan draws a beautiful picture 
 of this from Eze. xlvii. 8—12. It is so slow as scarcely 
 to be perceptible, and one proof of its growth in our 
 hearts is a doubt as to whether we are progressing 
 at all. The more the light of heaven breaks in upon 
 us, the more clearly it displays our sinful follies. 
 According to the prophet, the waters rise higher 
 and higher, but so slowly as to elude observation, 
 until we find that they have risen from the ancles 
 to the knees, and at length they rise and leave no 
 standing for the feet—the earth recedes with time, 
 and the soul enters upon the ocean of eternal 
 grace and glory. The time is coming when we 
 shall no longer worship in temples made with 
 hands, neither in the mountains of Samaria, nor 
 in the temples of Jerusalem, or Home, or London. 
 
 ‘ The cloud-capt towers—the gorgeous palaces— 
 the solemn temples—yea, the great globe itself, 
 shall dissolve, and, like the baseless fabric of a 
 vision, leave not a wreck behind,’ Or in language 
 far more solemn and striking, because they are the 
 unerring words of truth, ‘ The heavens shall pass 
 
 away with a great noise, and the elements shall 
 melt with fervent neat; the earth also, and the 
 works that are therein, shall be burned up.’ Then 
 shall the Holy City—the New Jerusalem—descend 
 from heaven, and all the ransomed of the Lord 
 shall find in it a glorious and everlasting habitation. 
 
 Bunyan published this Book in a very small 8vo 
 of 294 pages. It was never reprinted separately 
 from his other works, and even in them it suffered 
 from serious omissions and errors. It is now ac¬ 
 curately printed from his original edition. The 
 copy in Dr. Williams’ Library, Redcross Street, is 
 remarkably fine and clean, a present, most prob¬ 
 ably, in the first instance, from the author, having 
 an inscription on the flyleaf, apparently in Bunyan’s 
 autograph, ‘ This for my good and dearly beloved 
 frend mistris Backcraft.’ It has a false title, bear¬ 
 ing the imprint of ‘ London, Printed for Francis 
 Smith, at the Elephant and Castle without Temple 
 Barr, 1669.’ The editor’s copy, soiled and tattered, 
 cost him twenty shillings, a striking proof of its 
 rarity. This has the original title, with the real 
 date, 1665, but without a printer’s or publisher’s 
 name—from which it may be inferred that no one 
 dared to patronize the labours of the poor prisoner 
 —a circumstance tending to make the book more 
 prized by the lovers of Christian liberty. The 
 four dedications are singular, and truly Bunyanish. 
 
 Geo. Offor. 
 
 THE EPISTLE TO FOUR SORTS OF READERS. 
 
 I. To the Godly Reader. 
 
 Friend,— Though the men of this world, at the 
 sight of this book, will not only deride, but laugh 
 in conceit, to consider that one so low, contempt¬ 
 ible, and inconsiderable as I, should busy myself 
 in such sort, as to meddle with the exposition of 
 so hard and knotty a Scripture as here they find 
 the subject matter of this little book; yet do thou 
 remember that ‘ God hath chosen the foolish 
 things of the world to confound the wise, and 
 things which are not, to brino; to nought things 
 that are.’ l Co. i. 27, 28 . Consider also, that even of 
 old it hath been his pleasure to ‘ hide these things 
 from the wise and prudent, and to reveal them 
 unto babes.’ Mat. xi, 25 ;xxi. 15,16. I tell you that the 
 operation of the Word and Spirit of God, without 
 depending upon that idol, 1 so much adored, is suf¬ 
 
 1 By * idol’ is here meant human wisdom and school learn¬ 
 ing, which the men of this world adore, and laugh in conceit 
 at the attempt of one who did not possess it to expound the 
 mysteries of the Revelations—forgetting that they can only be 
 spiritually discerned.— (Fm.) 
 
 ficient of itself to search out ‘ all things, even the 
 deep things of God. ’ 1 Co. ii. 10. 
 
 The occasion of my first meddling with this 
 matter was as followeth:—Upon a certain first- 
 day, I being together with my brethren in our 
 prison chamber, they expected that, according to 
 our custom, something should be spoken out of the 
 W T ord for our mutual edification; but at that time 
 I felt myself, it being my turn to speak, so empty, 
 spiritless, and barren, that I thought I should not 
 have been able to speak among them so much as 
 five words of truth with life and evidence ; but at 
 last it so fell out that providentially I cast mine eye 
 upon the eleventh verse of the one and twentieth 
 chapter of this prophecy; upon which, when I had 
 considered a while, methought I perceived some¬ 
 thing of that jasper in whose light you there find 
 this holy city is said to come or descend ; where¬ 
 fore having got in my eye some dim glimmerings 
 thereof, and finding also in my heart a desire to 
 see farther thereinto, I with a few groans did carry 
 my meditations to the Lord Jesus for a blessing, 
 which he did forthwith grant according to his 
 
308 
 
 iiriSTLE TO FOUR SORTS OF READERS. 
 
 grace; and helping me to set before my brethren, 
 we did all eat, and were well refreshed; and be¬ 
 hold also, that while I was in the distributing of 
 it, it so increased in my hand, that of the frag¬ 
 ments that we left, after we had well dined, I 
 gathered up this basketful. Methought the more 
 I cast mine eye upon the whole discourse, the 
 more I saw lie in it. Wherefore setting myself 
 to a more narrow search, through frequent prayer 
 to God, what first with doing, and then with un¬ 
 doing, and after that with doing again, I thus did 
 finish it. 
 
 But yet, notwithstanding all my labour and 
 travel in this matter, I do not, neither can I ex¬ 
 pect that every godly heart should in every thing 
 see the truth and excellency of what is here dis¬ 
 coursed ; neither would I have them imagine that 
 I have so thoroughly viewed this holy city, but 
 that much more than I do here crush out is yet 
 left in the cluster. Alas! I shall only say thus, I 
 liaved crushed out a little juice to sweeten their 
 lips withal, not doubting but in a little time more 
 large measures of the excellency of this city, and 
 of its sweetness and glory, will by others be opened 
 and unfolded; yea, if not by the servants of the 
 Lord Jesus, yet by the Lord himself, who will 
 have this city builded and set in its own place. 
 
 But, I say, for this discourse, if any of the saints 
 that read herein think they find nought at all but 
 words, as many times it falleth out even in their 
 reading the Scriptures of God themselves, I beg, I 
 say, of such, that they read charitably, judge 
 modestly, and also that they would take heed of 
 concluding that because they for the present see 
 nothing in this or that passage, that therefore 
 there is nothing in it: possibly from that which 
 thou mayest cast away as an empty bone, others 
 may pick both good and wholesome bits, yea, 
 and also out of that suck much nourishing marrow. 
 You find by experience, that that very bit that 
 will not down with one, may yet not only down, 
 but be healthful and nourishing to another. Babes 
 are more for milk than strong meat, though meat 
 will well digest with those that are of riper years. 
 Wherefore that which thy weakness will not suffer 
 thee to feed on, leave; and go to the milk and 
 nourishment that in other places thou shalt find. 
 
 II. To the Learned Reader. 
 
 My second word is to my wise and learned reader. 
 
 Sir,— I suppose, in your reading of this dis¬ 
 course, you will be apt to blame me for two 
 things: First, Because I have not so beautified my 
 matter with acuteness of language as you could 
 wish or desire. Secondly, Because also 1 have not 
 given you, either in the line or in the margent, a 
 cloud of sentences from the learned fathers, that 
 
 have, according to their wisdom, possibly, handled 
 these matters long before me. 
 
 To the first I say, the matter indeed is excel¬ 
 lent and high; but for my part I am weak and 
 low; it also deserveth a more full and profound 
 discourse than my small parts will help me to make 
 upon the matter. But yet seeing the Lord looketh 
 not at the outward appearance, but on the heart, 
 neither regardeth high-swelling words of vanitv, 
 but pure and naked truth ; and seeing also that a 
 widow’s mite being all, even heart as well as sub¬ 
 stance, is counted more, and better, than to cast 
 in little out of much, and that little too perhaps the 
 worst, I hope my little, being all, my farthing, see¬ 
 ing I have no more, may be accepted and counted 
 for a great deal in the Lord’s treasury. Besides, 
 Sir, words easy to be understood do often hit the 
 mark, when high and learned ones do only pierce 
 the air. He also that speaks to the weakest, may 
 make the learned understand him; when he that 
 striveth to be high, is not only for the most part 
 understood but of a sort, but also many times is 
 neither understood by them nor by himself. 
 
 Secondly, The reason why you find me empty of 
 the language of the learned, I mean their sen¬ 
 tences and words which others use, is because I 
 have them not, nor have not read them: had it 
 not been for the Bible, I had not only not thus 
 done it, but not at all. 
 
 Lastly. I do find in most such a spirit of whore¬ 
 dom and idolatry concerning the learning of this 
 world, and wisdom of the flesh, and God’s glory so 
 much stained and diminished thereby; that had I 
 all their aid and assistance at command, I durst 
 not make use of ought thereof, and that for fear 
 lest that grace, and these gifts that the Lord hath 
 given me, should be attributed to their wits, rather 
 than the light of the Word and Spirit of God: 
 Wherefore ‘ I will not take ’ of them ‘ from a thread 
 even to a shoe-latchet, - lest they should say, We 
 have made Abram rich.’ Ge. xiv. 23 . 
 
 Sir, What you find suiting with the Scriptures 
 take, though it should not suit with authors; but 
 that which you find against the Scriptures, slight, 
 though it should be confirmed by multitudes of 
 them. Yea, further, where you find the Scrip¬ 
 tures and your authors jump, 1 yet believe it for 
 the sake of Scripture’s authority. I honour the 
 godly as Christians, but I prefer the Bible before 
 them; and having that still with me, I count my¬ 
 self far better furnished than if I had without it 
 all the libraries of the two universities. Besides, 
 I am for drinking water out of my own cistern ; 2 
 
 1 Where the Bible and uninspired authors agree, believe the 
 truth simply for the Bible’s sake. How properly jealous was 
 Bunyan as to the supremacy of God’s authority.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 See Isa. xxxvi. 16. The fountain of living waters, and 
 not the broken cisterns alluded to in Je. ii. 13.— (Ed.) 
 
THE HOLY CITY, OR THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 399 
 
 wliat God makes mine by the evidence of his Word 
 and Spirit, that I dare make bold with. Where¬ 
 fore seeing, though I am without their learned 
 lines, yet well furnished with the words of God, 1 
 mean the Bible, I have contented myself with what 
 I there have found, and having set it before your 
 eyes, 
 
 I pray read and take, Sir, what you like best; 
 
 And that which you like not, leave for the rest. 
 
 III. To the Captious Reader. 
 
 My third word is to the captious and wrangling 
 
 reader. 
 
 Friend,— However thou earnest by this book, I 
 will assure thee thou wast least in my thoughts 
 when I w r rit it; I tell thee, I intended this book as 
 little for thee as the goldsmith intendeth his jewels 
 and rings for the snout of a sow. Wherefore put 
 on reason, and lay aside thy frenzy; be sober, or 
 lay by the book. Mat. vii 6. 
 
 IY. To the Mother of Harlots, &c. 
 
 My fourth word is to the lady of kingdoms, the well- 
 favoured harlot , the mistress of witchcrafts , and 
 the abominations of the earth. 
 
 Mistress, —I suppose I have nothing here that 
 will either please your wanton eye or go down with 
 your voluptuous palate. Here is bread indeed, as 
 also milk and meat; but here is neither paint to 
 
 adorn thy wrinkled face, nor crutch to uphold or 
 undershore thy shaking, tottering, staggering king¬ 
 dom of Rome; but rather a certain presage of thy 
 sudden and fearful final downfall, and of the exal¬ 
 tation of that holy matron, whose chastity thou 
 dost abhor, because by it she reproveth and con- 
 demneth thy lewd and stubborn life. Wherefore, 
 lady, smell thou mayest of this, but taste thou 
 wilt not: I know that both thy wanton eye, with 
 all thy mincing brats that are intoxicated with thy 
 cup and enchanted with thy fornications, will, at 
 the sight of so homely and plain a dish as this, 
 cry, Foil! snuff, put the branch to the nose, 1 and 
 say, Contemptible! Mai. i. 12, 13. Eze. viii. 17. ‘ But 
 
 wisdom is justified of all her children.’ Mat. xi. 19. 
 ‘ The virgin the daughter of Zion hath despised 
 thee, and laughed thee to scorn; J erusalem hath 
 shaken her head at thee,’ is. xxxvii. 22; yea, her God 
 hath smitten his hands at thy dishonest gain and 
 freaks. Eze. xxii. 7-11, <fec. * Rejoice ye with Jerusa¬ 
 lem, and be glad for her, all ye that love her; re¬ 
 joice for joy with her, all ye that mourn for her; 
 that ye may suck and be satisfied with the breasts 
 of her consolations, that ye may milk out and be 
 delighted with the abundance of her glory.’ is. 
 ixvi. 10,11. John Bunyan. 
 
 1 Commentators differ as to the meaning of ‘ put the branch 
 
 to the nose/ Eze. viii. 17, but allagi’eeit was some well known 
 mode of expressing contempt for God and his worship.— (Ed.) 
 
 THE HOLY CITY; OR, THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 Revelation xsi. 10-27 ; xxn. 1-4. 
 
 10 And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high 
 mountain, and showed me that great city, the holy Jeru¬ 
 salem, descending out of heaven from God, 11 Having 
 the glory of God: and her light was like unto a stone 
 most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal: 
 12 And had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, 
 and at the gates twelve angels and names written there¬ 
 on, which are the names of the twelve tribes of the 
 children of Israel. 13 On the east three gates, on the 
 north three gates, on the south three gates, and on the 
 west three gates. 14 And the wall of the city had twelve 
 foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles 
 of the Lamb. 15 And he that talked with me had a 
 golden reed to measure the city, and the gates thereof 
 and the wall thereof. 16 And the city lieth four-square, 
 and the length is as large as the breadth: and he mea¬ 
 sured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs: 
 the length and the breadth and the height of it are equal. 
 17 And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred and 
 forty and four cubits, according to the measure of a man, 
 that is of the angel. 18 And the building of the wall 0 ! 
 it was of jasper, and the city was pure gold, like unto 
 clear glass. J9 And the foundations of the wall of the 
 city were garnished with all manner of precious stones. 
 The first foundation was jasper; the second, sapphire; the 
 
 third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald; 20 The fifth, 
 sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the 
 eighth, beryl; the ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chryso- 
 prasus; the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst. 
 21 And the twelve gates were twelve pearls, every several 
 gate was of one pearl; and the street of the city was pure 
 gold, as it were transparent glass. 22 And I saw no 
 temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty, and the 
 Lamb, are the temple of it. 28 And the city had no need 
 of the sun, neither of the moon to shine in it: for the 
 glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light 
 thereof. 24 And the nations of them which are saved, 
 shall walk in the light of it: and the kings of the earth 
 do bring their glory and honour into it. 20 And the gates 
 of it shall not be shut at all by day: for there shall be no 
 night there. 26 And they shall bring the glory and 
 honour of the nations into it: 27 And there shall in no 
 wise enter into it any thing that delileth, neither whatso¬ 
 ever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie: but they 
 which are written in the Lamb’s book of life. 
 
 22. 1 And he showed me a pure river of water of life, clear 
 as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of 
 the Lamb. 2 In the midst of the street of it, and on 
 either side of the river, was there the tree of life, which 
 bare twelve manner of fruits, and yielded her fruit every 
 mouth: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of 
 
400 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 the nations. s And there shall he no more curse: hut 
 the throne of God and of the Lamb shall he in it; and 
 his servants shall serve him. 4 And they shall see his 
 face, and his name shall he in their foreheads. 
 
 In my dealing with this mystery, I shall not meddle 
 where I see nothing, neither shall I hide from you 
 that which at present I conceive to he wrapt up 
 therein; only you must not from me look for much 
 enlargement, though I shall endeavour to speak as 
 much in few words, as my understanding and capa¬ 
 city will enable me, through the help of Christ. 
 
 In this description of this holy city, you have 
 these five general heads: 
 
 First, The vision of this city in general. Second, 
 A discovery of its defence, entrances, and fashion, 
 in particular. Third, A relation of the glory of 
 each. Fourth, A discovery of its inhabitants, their 
 quality and numerousness. Fifth, A relation of 
 its maintenance, by which it continueth in life, ease, 
 peace, tranquillity, and sweetness for ever. To all 
 which I shall speak something in their proper 
 places, and shall open them before you. 
 
 But before I begin with any of them, I must 
 speak a word or two concerning John’s qualifica¬ 
 tion, whereby he was enabled to behold and take a 
 view of this city; which qualification he relateth in 
 these words following: 
 
 Verse 10. And he carried me away in the spirit 
 to a great and high mountain, and showed me that 
 great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of 
 heaven from God. 
 
 The angel being to show this holy man this great 
 John qualified and glorious vision, he first, by quali- 
 lor this vision. fyj n g 0 f hi m> p U t s him into a suitable 
 
 capacity to behold and take the view thereof; ‘ He 
 carried me away in the spirit.’ When he saith, 
 He carried me away in the Spirit, he means he was 
 taken up into the Spirit, his soul was greatly spiri¬ 
 tualized. Whence take notice, that an ordinary 
 frame of spirit is not able to comprehend, nor yet 
 to apprehend extraordinary things. Much of the 
 Spirit discerneth much of God’s matters ; but little 
 of the Spirit discerneth but little of them: ‘ I could 
 not speak unto you as unto spiritual, but as unto 
 carnal, even as unto babes in Christ; I have fed 
 you with milk, and not with meat; for hitherto ye 
 were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye 
 able.’ 1 Co. iii. 2 . 
 
 * And he carried me away in the spirit, ’ &c. 
 Thus it was with the saints of old, when God had 
 either special work for them to do, or great things 
 for them to see. Ezekiel, when he had the vision 
 of this city in the old law, in the captivity at 
 Babylon, he must be first forefitted with a compe¬ 
 tent measure of the Spirit. Eze. xi. 2. John also, 
 when he had the whole matter of this prophecy re¬ 
 vealed unto him, he must be in the Spirit; ‘ I was 
 (saith he) in the Spirit on the Lord’s day, and 
 
 heard behind me a great voice, as of a trumpet * 
 talking with me, &c. Re. i. 10 , n. Whence note 
 again, that when God calls a man to this or that 
 work for him, he first fits him with a 
 suitable spirit. Ezekiel saith, when Tor^voUchefits 
 God bid him stand upon his feet, that for work * 
 the Spirit entered into him, and set him upon his 
 feet. Eze. ii. 1, 2 . 
 
 ‘ And he carried me away,’ &c. Mark, And ho 
 carried me [away] &c. As a man must have much 
 of the Spirit that sees much of God, and his good¬ 
 ly matters; so he must be also carried away with it; 
 he must by it be taken off from things carnal and 
 earthly, and taken up into the glory of things that 
 are spiritual and heavenly. The Spirit loveth to do 
 what it doth in private; that man to whom God in- 
 tendeth to reveal great things, he takes him aside 
 from the lumber and cumber of this world, and car- 
 rieth him away in the solace and contemplation of 
 the things of another world; * And Avhen they were 
 alone, he expounded all things to his disciples.’ Mar. 
 iv. si. Mark, and when they were alone ; according 
 to that of the prophet, ‘ Whom shall he teach know¬ 
 ledge, and whom shall he make to understand doc¬ 
 trine ? them that are weaned from the milk, and 
 drawn from the breasts.’ is. xxviii. 9. Whence observe 
 also, he is the man that is like to know most of 
 God, that is oftenest in private with him. Lu. u. 25-3.8. 
 He that obeyeth when God saith, Come up hither, 
 he shall see the bride, the Lamb’s wife. For 
 ‘ through desire a man having separated himself, 
 seeketh and intermcddleth with all wisdom.’ Pr.xviii.i. 
 
 4 And he carried me away in the spirit to a great 
 and high mountain.’ Thus having showed his 
 frame, and inward disposition of spirit, he now 
 comes to tell us also of the place or stage on which 
 he was set; to the end that now being fitted by il¬ 
 lumination, he might not be hindered of his vision 
 by ought that might intercept. He carried me 
 away in the Spirit to a great and high mountain. 
 Thus did God of old also; for when he showed to 
 Moses the patterns of the heavenly things, he must 
 ascend to the Mount Sinai. Ex. xix. 3. He must into 
 the mount also, when he hath the view of the Holy 
 Land, and of that goodly mountain Lebanon. De. 
 xxxii. 49. Whence we may learn that the things of 
 God are far from man, as he is natural; and also 
 that there are very great things between us and the 
 sight of them: none can see them but such as are 
 carried away in the Spirit and set on high. 
 
 ‘... To a great and high mountain.* This 
 mountain therefore signifieth the Lord Christ, on 
 which the soul must be placed, as on a mighty hill, 
 whereby he may be able, his eyes being anointed 
 with spiritual eye-salve, to see over the tops of 
 those mighty corruptions, temptations, and spiri¬ 
 tual enemies, that like high and mighty towers are 
 built by the wicked one, to keep the view of God’s 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 40] 
 
 things from the sight of our souls. 2 Co.x. 5,6. 
 Wherefore Christ is called the Mountain of the 
 Lord’s house, or that on which the house of God 
 is placed; he is also called the Rock of ages, and 
 the Rock that is higher than we. ‘ The hill of 
 God is’ an high hill, as Bashan; ‘an high hill, as 
 the hill of Bashan. ’ Ps. lxviii. is. This is the hill from 
 whence the prophet Ezekiel had the vision of this 
 city ; Eze.xi.2. ‘ And upon this rock (saith Christ) 
 I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall 
 not prevail against it. ’ Mat. xvi. 18. 
 
 [FIRST. The Vision of the Holy City in 
 
 GENERAL.] 
 
 * And he carried me away in the spirit to a 
 great and high mountain, and showed me that great 
 Jerusalem con- clt J» the hol y Jerusalem.’ Having 
 
 neraT* 1 “ ge ' tlms told us ll0w ’ an(1 with what lie 
 was qualified, he next makes relation 
 of what he saw, which was that great city, the 
 holy Jerusalem. 
 
 Jerusalem, iu the language of the Scripture, is 
 to be acknowledged for the church and spouse of 
 the Lord Jesus; and is to be considered either 
 generally or more particularly. Now as she is to 
 be taken generally, so she is to be understood as 
 being ‘ the whole family in heaven and earth,’ Ep. 
 m. is; and as she is thus looked upon, so she is not 
 considered with respect to this or that state and 
 condition of the church here in the world, but 
 simply as she is the church: therefore it is said, 
 when at any time any are converted from Satan to 
 God, that they * are come unto Mount Zion, and 
 unto the city of the living God, the heavenly Jeru¬ 
 salem ; and to an innumerable company of angels; 
 to the general assembly and church of the first-born 
 which are written in heaven; to God the judge of all, 
 and to the spirits of just men made perfect; and to 
 Jesus, - and to the blood of sprinkling.’ He. xii. 22, 24. 
 
 But again, as Jerusalem is thus generally to be 
 Jerusalem is to understood, so also she is to be con- 
 more particu- sidered more particularly: 1. Either 
 as she relates to her first and purest 
 state; or, 2. As she relates to her declined and 
 captivated state; or, 3. With reference to her being 
 recovered again from her apostatized and captiv¬ 
 ated condition. Thus it was with Jerusalem in the 
 letter; which threefold state of this city shall be 
 most exactly answered by our gospel Jerusalem, by 
 our New Testament church. Her first state was in 
 the days of Christ and his apostles, and answereth 
 to Jerusalem in the days of Solomon ; her second 
 state is in the days of antichrist, and answereth to 
 the carrying away of the Jews from their city into 
 Babylon; and her third state is this in the text, 
 and answereth to their return from captivity, and 
 rebuilding their city and walls again: a 11 which will 
 be fully manifest in this discourse following 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 [This city is the gospel church returning out of 
 antichristian captivity. ] 
 
 Besides, that this holy city that here you read 
 of is the church, the gospel church, returning out 
 of her long and antichristian captivity; consider, 
 
 First, She is here called a city, the very name 
 that our primitive church went under, Ep. ii. 19 ; 
 which name she losetli all the while of her aposta¬ 
 tizing and captivity under antichrist; for observe, 
 I say, all the while she is under the scourge of the 
 dragon, beast, and the woman in scarlet, &c., 
 Re. xmshe goeth under the name of a woman, a 
 woman in travail, a woman flying before the dragon, 
 a woman flying into the wilderness, there to con¬ 
 tinue in an afflicted and tempted condition, and to 
 be glad of wilderness nourishment, until the time 
 of her enemies were come to an end. Re. xii. 
 
 Now the reason why she lost the title of city at 
 her going into captivity is, because then she lost 
 her situation and strength; she followed others 
 than Christ, wherefore he suffered her enemies to 
 scale her walls, to break down her battlements; 
 he suffered, as you see here, the great red dragon, 
 and beast with seven heads and ten horns, to get 
 into her vineyard, who made most fearful work 
 both with her and all her friends; her gates also 
 were now either broken down or shut up, so that 
 none could, according to her laws and statutes, 
 enter into her; her charter also, even the Bible 
 itself, was most grossly abused and corrupted, yea, 
 sometimes burned and destroyed almost utterly; 
 wherefore the Spirit of God doth take away from 
 her the title of city, and leaveth her to be termed 
 a wandering woman, as aforesaid. ‘ The court 
 which is without the temple (saith the angel) leave 
 out, and measure it not, for it is given unto the 
 Gentiles; and the holy city shall they tread under 
 foot forty and two months.’ Re. xi. 2 . ‘ The holy 
 
 city shall they tread under foot;’ that is, all the 
 city constitutions, her forts and strength, her laws 
 and privileges for a long time, • shall be laid aside 
 and slighted, shall become a hissing, a taunt, and 
 a byeword among the nations. And truly thus it 
 was in the letter, in the destruction of Jerusalem 
 by the king of Babylon and his wicked instruments, 
 by whose hands the city was broken up, the walls 
 pulled down, the gates burned, the houses rifled, 
 the virgins ravished, and the children laid dead in 
 the top of every street. 2 Ch. xxxvi. 17 - 21 . Je. m. La. i. 
 ii. m. iv. Now was Zion become a ploughed field, 
 and Jerusalem turned to heaps ; a place of briars 
 and thorns, and of wasteness and desolation. 
 
 Mic. iii. 12. Is. vii. 23, 24. 
 
 Second , The phrase also that is joined with 
 this of city doth much concern the point; she is 
 here called ‘ the new and holy city,’ which words 
 are explained by these, ‘ prepared as a bride and 
 
 51 
 
402 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 adorned for lier husband.’ The meaning is, that 
 she is now got into her form, fashion, order, and 
 privileges again; she is now ready, adorned, pie- 
 pared, and put into her primitive state; mark, 
 though she was in her state of affliction called, a 
 woman, yet she was not then either called a city 
 or a woman adorned; but rather a woman robbed 
 and spoiled, rent and torn among the briars and 
 thorns of the wilderness, is. v. 6 ; xlii. 22 ; xxxii. 13,14. 
 Wherefore this city is nothing else but the church 
 returned out of captivity from under the reign of 
 antichrist, as is yet farther manifest, because, 
 
 Third , We find no city to answer that which 
 was built after the Jews’ return from captivity but 
 this; for this, and only this, is the city that you 
 find in this prophecy that is nominated as the anti¬ 
 type of that second of the Jews; wherefoie John 
 hath no relation of her while towards the doom of 
 antichrist, and no description of her in particular 
 until antichrist is utterly overthrown ; as all may 
 see that wisely read. Re. xvii.-xx. 
 
 [ Why the church is colled a city.} 
 
 ‘And showed me that great city. r ihe Holy 
 Ghost is pleased at this time to give 
 
 YthS C day r t the church the name of a city, rather 
 called by the y ot ] ier name, rather than the 
 
 rather than a name of spouse, woman, temple, anci 
 the like—though lie giveth us her 
 the like un der the name of a woman also, to 
 
 help us to understand what he means; but, I say, 
 the name of a city is now the name in special, 
 under which the church must go, and that foi 
 special reasons. 
 
 First. To show us how great and numerous a 
 people will then be in the church ; the church may 
 be a woman, a temple, a spouse, when she is but 
 few, a handful, but two or three ; but to be a city, 
 and that in her glory, it bespeaks great store of 
 members, inhabitants, and citizens; especially 
 when she goeth under the name of a great city, as 
 here she does. He ‘ showed me that great city. 
 
 Second. She goeth rather under the name of a 
 city, than temple or spouse, to show us also how 
 plentifully the nations and kingdoms of men shall 
 at that day traffic with her, and in her, for her 
 goodly merchandize of grace and life; to show us, 
 I say, what wonderful custom the church of God 
 at this day shall have among all sorts of people, 
 for her heavenly treasures. It is said of Tyrus 
 and Babylon, that their merchandize went unto all 
 the world, and men from all quarters under heaven 
 came to trade and to deal with them foi then 
 wares. Eze. xxvii. Re. xviii. 2, 3 . Why thus it will be in 
 the latter day with the church of God; the nations 
 shall come from far, from Tarshish, Pul, Lud, 
 Tubal, Javan, and the isles afar off. They shall 
 come, saith God, out of all nations upou hoises 
 
 and mules, and upon swift beasts, to my holy 
 mountain Jerusalem. ‘ And it shall come to pass, 
 that from one new moon to another, and from one 
 sabbath to another, shall all flesh come to worship 
 before me, saith the Lord.’ Is. lxvi. 19-23. Alas, the 
 church at that day when she is a woman only, or 
 a temple either, may be without that beauty, trea¬ 
 sure, amiableness, and affecting glory that she 
 will be endowed with when she is a prosperous city. 
 His marvellous kindness is seen ‘ in a strong city. 
 p 3 . xxxi. 21. In cities, you know, are the treasures, 
 beauty, and glory of kingdoms; and it is thither 
 men go that are desirous to solace themselves there¬ 
 with. ‘ Out of Zion, the perfection of beauty, God 
 hath shined.’ Ps. l.2. 
 
 Third. It is called a city, rather than a woman 
 or temple, to show us how strongly and securely it 
 will keep its inhabitants at that day. ‘In that day 
 shall this song be sung, - We have a strong city, 
 salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks, 
 is. xxvi. 1. And verily if the cities of the Gentiles, 
 and the strength of their bars, and gates, and walls 
 did so shake the hearts, yea, the very faith of the 
 children of God themselves, how secure and safe 
 will the inhabitants of this city be, even the. in¬ 
 habitants of that city which God himself will build, 
 &C. De. ix. 1 , 2 . Nu. xiii. 28 . 
 
 [Fourth.] But lastly, and more especially, the 
 church is called here a city, chiefly to show us that 
 now she shall be undermost no longer. Babylon 
 reigned, and so shall Jerusalem at that day. And 
 thou, 0 tower of the flock, the stronghold of the 
 daughter of Zion, unto thee shall it come, even 
 the first dominion, the kingdom shall come to the 
 daughter of Jerusalem.’ Mi. iv. 8. Now shall she, 
 when she is built and complete, have a complete 
 conquest aud victory over all her enemies; she 
 shall reign over them ; the law shall go forth of 
 her that°rules them, and the governors of all the 
 world at that day shall be Jerusalem men. ‘ And 
 the captivity of this host of the children of Isiatl 
 shall possess that of the Canaanites, even unto 
 Zarephath; and the captivity of Jerusalem which 
 is in Sepharad shall possess the cities of the south. 
 And saviours shall come up on mount Zion, to 
 judge the mount of Esau, and the kingdom shall 
 be the Lord’s.’ Ob.20,21. 1 ‘ For the law shall go 
 
 forth of Zion, and the word of the Lord from Jer- 
 usalem. - And he shall judge among many people, 
 and rebuke strong nations afar off, and they shall 
 beat their swords into plough-shares, and their 
 spears into pruning-hooks; nation shall not lift up 
 
 1 The note upon this passage in the Genevan or Puritan 
 version, with which Bunyan was familiar, is, ‘ God will raise 
 up in his church such as shall rule and govern for the defence 
 of the same, and instruction of his enemies, under Messiah, 
 whom the prophet callcth here the Lord and Head of this 
 kingdom.’—(Kn.) 
 
TIIE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 403 
 
 a sword against nation, neither shall they learn 
 war any more.’ Mi. iv. l— 3 . There brake lie ‘the 
 ships of Tarshish with an east wind. As we have 
 heard, so have we seen in the city of the Lord of 
 hosts, in the city of our God; God will establish 
 it for ever.’ Ps. xiviii. l—8 . For observe it, Christ 
 hath not only obtained the kingdom of heaven for 
 those that are his, when this world is ended, hut 
 hath also, as a reward for his sufferings, the whole 
 world given into his hand; wherefore, as all the 
 kings, and princes, and powers of this world have 
 had their time to reign, and have glory in this 
 world in the face of all, so Christ will have his 
 time at this day, to show who is ‘ the only Poten¬ 
 tate - and Lord of lords. ’ l Ti. vi. 15 . At which day 
 he will not only set up his kingdom in the midst 
 of their kingdoms, as he doth now, but will set it 
 up even upon the top of their kingdoms; at which 
 day there will not he a nation in the world hut 
 must bend to Jerusalem or perish. Is. lx. 12. For 
 ‘ the kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of 
 the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall he given 
 to the people of the saints of the Most High, whose 
 kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and all do¬ 
 minions shall serve and obey him.’ Da. vii. 27. ‘And 
 his dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the 
 river to the ends of the earth.’ Zee. ix. 10. 0 holi¬ 
 
 ness, how shall it shine in kings and nations, when 
 God doth this ! 
 
 [ This city descends out of heaven from God. ] 
 
 ‘ He showed me that great city, the holy Jeru¬ 
 salem, descending out of heaven from God.’ In 
 these words we are to inquire into three things. 
 First. What he here should mean by heaven. 
 Second. What it is for this city to descend out of 
 it. Third. And why she is said to descend out of 
 it from God. 
 
 First. For the word heaven , in Scripture it is 
 variously to be understood, but generally either 
 materially or metaphorically; now not materially 
 here, but metaphorically; and so is generally, if 
 not always, taken in this book. 
 
 Now that it is not to be taken for the material 
 heavens where Christ in person is, consider, that 
 the descending of this city is not the coming of 
 glorified saints with their Lord; because that even 
 after the descending, yea and building of this city, 
 there shall be sinners converted to God; but at the 
 coming of the Lord Jesus from heaven with his 
 saints, the door shall be shut; that is, the door of 
 grace, against all unbelievers. Lu. xiii. 25 . Mat. xxv. 10. 
 
 Therefore heaven here is to be taken metaphor¬ 
 ically, for the church ; which, as 1 said before, is 
 frequently so taken in this prophecy, as also in 
 many others of the holy scriptures, lie. xi. 15 ; xii. 1— 3, 
 7, 8 , 30,13 ; xiii 6 ; xix. 1 , 14 . Je. li. 48 . Mat. xxv. 1 , &c. And 
 
 observe it, though the church of Christ under the 
 
 tyranny of antichrist, loscth the title of a standing 
 city, yet in the worst of times she loseth not the 
 title of heaven. She is heaven when the great red 
 dragon is in her, and heaven when the third part 
 of her stars are cast unto the earth ; she is heaven 
 also when the beast doth open his throat against 
 her, to blaspheme her God, his tabernacle, and 
 those that dwell in her. 
 
 Second. Now, then, to show you what we are to 
 understand by this, that she is said to descend out 
 of heaven; for indeed to speak properly, Jerusalem 
 is always in the Scriptures set in the highest ground, 
 and men are said to descend, when they go down 
 from her, but to ascend, or go up when they are go- 
 
 in £ thitherwards. Eze. iii. 1. Ne. xii. 1. Mat. XX. 17,18. Lu. xix. 28; 
 
 o 
 
 x. 30 . But yet though this be true, there must also 
 be something significant in this word descending; 
 wherefore when he saith, he saw this city to de¬ 
 scend out of heaven, he would have us understand, 
 
 1. That though the church under antichrist be 
 never so low, yet out of her loins shall they come 
 that yet shall be a reigning city. He. vii. 6,13,14. 
 Generation is a descending from the loins of our 
 friends; he therefore speaks of the generation of 
 the church. Wherefore the meaning is, That out 
 of the church that is now in captivity, there shall 
 come a complete city, so exact in all things, accord¬ 
 ing to the laws and liberties, privileges and riches 
 of a city, that she shall lie level with the great 
 charter of heaven. Thus it was in the type, the city 
 after the captivity was builded, even by those that 
 once were in captivity, especially by their seed 
 and offspring, Is. xiv. ; and thus it shall be in our 
 New Testament New Jerusalem ; ‘ They that shall 
 be of thee,’ saith the prophet, that is, of the church 
 of affliction, they ‘ shall build the old waste places; 
 thou shalt raise up the foundations of many gen¬ 
 erations; and thou shalt be called, The repairer of 
 the breach, The restorer of paths to dwell in.’ 
 is. lviii. 12; and again, they that sometimes had 
 ashes for gladness, and the spirit of heaviness in¬ 
 stead of the garment of praise, ‘ they shall build 
 the old wastes, they shall raise up the former de¬ 
 solations, and they shall repair the waste cities, 
 the desolations of many generations ; for your 
 shame ye shall have double, and for confusion they 
 shall rejoice in their portion,’ &c. Is. lxL 3,4, 7. 
 Thus therefore by descending we may understand 
 that the church’s generation shall be this holy 
 city, and shall build up themselves the tower of 
 the flock. Mi. iv. 8. 
 
 2. When he saith, This holy city descended 
 out of heaven, he would have us understand also 
 what a blessing and happiness this city at her re¬ 
 building will be to the whole world. Never were 
 kind and seasonable showers more profitable to 
 the tender new-mown grass than will this city at 
 this day be, to the inhabitants of the world; they 
 
404 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 will come as a blessing from heaven upon them. 
 As the prophet saith, ‘ The remnant of Jacob shall 
 be in the midst of many people, as a dew from the 
 Lord; as the showers upon the grass, that tarrieth 
 not for man, nor waiteth for the sons of men.’ 
 Mi. v. 7 . 0 the grace, the light and glory that will 
 
 strike with spangling beams from this city 7- , as 
 from a sun, into the farthest parts of the world! 
 
 ‘ Thus saith the Lord, as the new wine is found in 
 the cluster, and one saith, Destroy it not, for a 
 blessing is in it: so will I do for my servants’ sake, 
 that I may not destroy them all: I will bring forth 
 a seed out of Jacob, and out of Judah an inheritor 
 of my ’ holy ‘ mountains: and mine elect shall in¬ 
 herit it, and my servants shall dwell there. And 
 Sharon (where the sweet roses grew, Ca. ii. l), shall 
 be a fold for flocks, and the valley of Achor a 
 place for the herds to lie down in, for my people 
 that have sought me.’ is. lxv. 8 -io. ‘In that day 
 shall Israel be the third with Egypt and with 
 Assyria, even a blessing in the midst of the land.’ 
 is. xix. 24. ‘ And it shall come to pass, that as ye 
 
 were a curse among the heathen, 0 house of 
 Judah, and house of Israel; so will I save you, 
 and ye shall be a blessing. Fear not, but let your 
 hands be strong.’ Zee. vm. 13. ‘As the dew of Her- 
 mon that descended upon the mountains of Zion, 
 for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even 
 life for evermore.’ Ps. cxxxiii. 3 . 
 
 {Third h\ And now for the third particular, 
 namely, What it is to descend out of heaven from 
 God. 
 
 1. To descend out of heaven, that is, out of the 
 
 church in captivity, ‘from God,’ is this: The 
 church is the place in which God doth beget all 
 those that are the children of him; wherefore in 
 that they are said to descend out of heaven ‘ from 
 God,’ it is as if he had said, the children of the 
 church are heaven-born, begotten of God, and 
 brought forth in the church of Christ. For * Jeru¬ 
 salem which is above is the mother of us all.’ 
 Ga. iv. 26. ‘ The Lord shall count when he writeth 
 
 up the people, that this man was born there.’ 
 
 Ps. lxxxvu. 5 , 6. 
 
 2. When he saith he saw this Jerusalem come 
 out of heaven from God, he means that those of 
 the church in captivity that shall build this city, 
 they shall be a people peculiarly fitted and quali¬ 
 fied for this work of God. It was not all the 
 children of Israel that had their hand in building 
 Jerusalem after the captivity of old; ‘ their nobles 
 put not their necks to the work of the Lord.’ 
 Ne. iii. 5 . Also there were many of Judah that Avere 
 SAvorn to Tobiah, the arch-opposer of the building 
 of the city, because of some kindred and relation 
 that then was between them and him. Ne. vi. 17—19. 
 And as it Avas then, so Ave do expect it Avill be iioav; 
 some will be even at the beginning of this work, 
 
 in Babylon, at that time also some will be cow¬ 
 ardly and fearful, yea, and even men hired to' 
 hinder the Avork. Ne. vi. 10 — 12 . Wherefore I say, 
 those of the church that at that day builded the 
 city, they were men of a particular and peculiar 
 spirit, which also will so be at the building of Neiv 
 Jerusalem. They whose light breaks forth as the 
 morning, they that are mighty for a spirit of 
 prayer, they that take aAvay the yoke, and speak¬ 
 ing vanity, and that draw out their soul to the 
 hungry; they that the Lord shall guide continu- 
 ally, that shall have fat bones, and that shall be 
 as a Avatered garden, Avhose Avaters fail not, &lc. 
 is. lviii. 8—14. Of them shall they be that build the 
 old wastes, and that raise up the foundations of 
 many generations, &c. It was thus in all ages, 
 in every Avork of God, some of his people, some of 
 his saints in special in all ages, have been used to 
 promote, and advance, and perfect the work of 
 their generations. - 
 
 3. This city descends or comes out of heaven 
 from God, that is, by his special working and 
 bringing to pass; it was God that gave them the 
 pattern even Avhen they were in Babylon; it was 
 God that put it into their hearts while there, to 
 pray for deliverance; it was God that put it into 
 the hearts of the kings of the Medes and Persians 
 to give them liberty to return and build; and it 
 Avas God that quailed the hearts of those that by 
 opposing did endeavour to hinder the bringing the 
 work to perfection; yea, it Avas God that did in¬ 
 deed bring the work to perfection; Avherefore she 
 may well be said to descend ‘ out of heaven from 
 God:’ as he also saith himself by the prophet, I 
 Avail cause the captivity of Judah, and the captivity 
 of Israel to return, and I will build them as at the 
 
 first. Ezr. iv. 1—4 ; vii. 27. Ne. ii. 8 —IS ; iv. 15 ; vi. 15, 16. Je. 
 xxxiii. 7 ; xxxii. 44. Eze. xxxvi. 33—37 ; xxxvii. 11—15. Am. ix. 11. 
 
 Lastly, When he saith he saAV her descend from 
 God out of heaven, he may refer to her glory, 
 which at her declining departed from her, and 
 ascended to God, as the sap returns into the root 
 at the fall of the leaf; Avhich glory doth again at 
 her return descend, or come into the church, and 
 branches of the same, as the sap doth arise at the 
 spring of the year, for indeed the church’s beauty 
 is from heaven, and it either goeth up thither from 
 her, or else comes from thence to her, according 
 to the natures of both fall and spring. Ca. ii. 
 
 Thus you see what this heaven is, and Avhat it 
 is for this city to descend out of it; also Avhat it 
 is for this city to descend out of it from God. 
 
 [ This city has the glory of God. ] 
 
 Yer. 11. ‘Having the glory of God.’ These 
 last words do put the whole matter out of doubt, 
 and do most clearly show unto us that the descend¬ 
 ing of this city is the perfect return of the church 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 405 
 
 out of captivity; the church, when she began at 
 first to go into captivity, her glory began to depart 
 from her; and now she is returning again, she 
 receiveth therewith her former glory, ‘ having the 
 glory of God.’ Thus it was in the type, when 
 Jerusalem went into captivity under the King of 
 Babylon, which was a figure of the captivity of our 
 New Testament church under Antichrist, it is said 
 that then the glory of God departed from them, 
 and went, by degrees, first out of the temple to 
 the threshold of the house, and from thence with 
 the cherubims of glory, for that time, quite away 
 from the city. Eze. x. 4-18; xi. 22, 23. Ac. 
 
 Again, As the glory of God departed from this 
 city at her going into captivity, so when she 
 returned again, she had also then returned to her 
 the glory of God; whereupon this very prophet 
 that saw the glory of God go from her at her going 
 into captivity, did see it, the very same; and that 
 according as it departed, so return at her deliver¬ 
 ance. ‘ He brought me to the gate,’ saith he— 
 that is, when by a vision he saw all the frame and 
 patterns of the city and temple, in the state in 
 which it was to be after the captivity. ‘ He 
 brought me to the gate - that looketh toward the 
 east, and behold the glory of the God of Israel 
 came from the way of the east ’—the very same 
 way that it went when it departed from the city. 
 Eze. xi. 23. ‘ His voice was like a noise of many 
 
 waters, and the earth shined with his glory. It 
 was according to the appearance of the vision 
 which I saw, even according to the vision which I 
 saw when I came to destroy the city, and the 
 visions vvere like the vision that I saw by the river 
 Cliebar; and I fell upon my face, and the glory of 
 the Lord came into the house by the way of the 
 gate whose prospect is toward the east; so the 
 Spirit took me up, and brought me into the inner 
 court, and behold, the glory of the Lord filled the 
 llOUSe.’ Eze. xliii. 1 — 5 . 
 
 Thus you see it was in the destruction and re¬ 
 storation of the Jews’ Jerusalem, by which God 
 doth plainly show us how things will be in our 
 gospel church; she was to decline and lose her 
 glory, she was to be trampled—as she was a city 
 —for a Ions time under the feet of the unconverted 
 and wicked world. Again, she was after this to 
 be builded, and to be put into her former glory; 
 at which time she w r as to have her glory, her for¬ 
 mer glory, even the glory of God, returned to her 
 again. ‘ He showed me,’ saith John, ‘ that great 
 city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven 
 from God, having the glory of God. ’ As he saith 
 by the prophet, ‘ I am returned to Jerusalem with 
 mercies, my house shall be built in it..’ Ze.i.ic. And 
 again, * I am returned unto Zion, and will dwell in 
 the midst of Jerusalem.’ Ze viii. 3 . 
 
 ‘ Having the glory of God.’ There is the grace 
 
 of God, and the glory of that grace; there is the 
 power of God, and the glory of that power; and 
 there is the majesty of God, and the glory of that 
 majesty. Ep. i. 6 . 2 Th. i. 9 . Is. ii. 19 . 
 
 It is true God doth not leave his people in some 
 sense, even in the worst of times, and in their most 
 forlorn condition, Jn. xiv. 18 , as he showeth by his 
 being with them in their sad state in Egypt and 
 Babylon, and other of their states of calamity. 
 Da. iii. 25. As he saith, ‘ Although I have cast them 
 far off among the heathen, and although I have 
 scattered them among the countries, yet will I be 
 to them a little sanctuary in the countries where 
 they shall come.’ Eze. ii. 16 . God is with his church, 
 even in her greatest adversity, both to limit, bound, 
 measure, and to point out to her her quantity and 
 quality, her beginning and duration of distress 
 and temptation. Is. xxvii. 7 — 9 . Re. ii. 10. But yet I say 
 the glory of God, in the notion of Ezekiel and 
 John, when they speak of the restoration of this 
 city, that is not always upon his people, though 
 always they are beloved and counted for his pecu¬ 
 liar treasure. She may then have his grace, but 
 not at the same time the glory of his grace; his 
 power, but not the glory of his power; she may 
 also have his majesty, but not the glory thereof; 
 God may be with his church, even then when the 
 glory is departed from Israel. 
 
 The difference that is between her having his 
 grace, power, and majesty, and the glory of each, 
 is manifest in these following particulars ;—grace, 
 power, and majesty, when they are in the church 
 in their own proper acts, only as we are considered 
 saints before God, so they are invisible, and that 
 not only altogether to the world, but often to the 
 very children of God themselves; but now when 
 the glory of these do rest upon the church, accord¬ 
 ing to Ezekiel and John; why then it will be 
 visible and apparent to all beholders. ‘ When the 
 Lord shall build up Zion, he shall appear in his 
 glory,’ Ps. cii. 16 , as he saith also in another place, 
 
 ‘ The Lord shall arise upon thee, and his glory 
 shall be seen upon thee.’ is.lx.l— 2 . 
 
 Now, then, to speak a word or two, in particular 
 to the glory of God, that at this day will be found 
 to settle upon this city. 
 
 First. Therefore, at her returning, she shall not 
 only have his grace upon her, but the very glory of 
 his grace shall be seen upon her; the glory ot par¬ 
 doning grace shall now shine in her own soul, and 
 grace in the glory of it shall appear in all her 
 doings. Now shall both our inward and outward 
 man be most famously adorned and beautified with 
 salvation; the golden pipes that are on the head 
 of the golden candlestick, shall at this day convey, 
 with all freeness, the golden oil thereout, into our 
 golden hearts and lamps. Zee. iv. 2 . Our wine shall 
 be mixed with gall no longer, we shall now drink 
 
406 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 the pure blood of tlic grape; the glory of pardon¬ 
 ing and forgiving mercy shall so show itself at this 
 day in this city, and shall so visibly abide there 
 in the eyes of all spectators, that all shall be en- 
 fiamed with it. ‘For Zion’s sake will I not hold 
 my peace, and for Jerusalem’s sake I will not rest, 
 until the righteousness thereof go forth as bright¬ 
 ness, and the salvation thereof as a lamp that 
 burneth. And the Gentiles shall see thy righte¬ 
 ousness, and all kings thy glory; and thou shalt 
 be called by a new name, which the mouth of the 
 Lord shall name.’ is. lxii. l, 2 . And again, ‘ The 
 Lord hath made bare his holy arm in the eyes of 
 all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall 
 see the salvation of our God.’ Is. lii. 10. Ps. xcviii. 2 . At 
 that day, the prophet tells us, there shall be holiness 
 upon the very horses’ bridles, and that the pots in 
 the Lord’s house shall be like the bowls before 
 the altar, and every pot in Jerusalem shall be 
 holiness unto the Lord. Zee. xiv. 20, 21. The mean¬ 
 ing of all these places is, that in the day that the 
 Lord doth turn his church and people into the 
 frame and fashion of a city, and when he shall 
 build them up to answer the first state of the 
 church, there will such grace and plenty of mercy 
 be extended unto her, begetting such faith and 
 holiness and grace in her soul, and all her actions, 
 that she shall convince all that are about her that 
 she is the city, the beloved city, the city that the 
 Lord hath chosen; for after that he had said be¬ 
 fore, he would return to Zion, and dwell in the 
 midst of Jerusalem, Zee. viii. 3, he saith, moreover, 
 that Jerusalem shall be called a city of truth, and 
 the mountain of the Lord of hosts, the holy moun¬ 
 tain. ‘ And all the people of the earth shall see 
 that thou art called by the name of the Lord, and 
 they shall be afraid of thee.’ De. xxviii. 10. 
 
 Second. As the glory of the grace of God will, 
 at this day, be wonderfully manifest in and over 
 his city; so also at that day will be seen the glory 
 of his power. ‘0 my people,’ saith God, ‘that 
 dwellest in Zion, be not afraid of the Assyrian ; he 
 shall smite thee with a rod, and shall lift up his 
 staff against thee, after the manner of Egypt,’ 
 that is, shall persecute and afflict thee, as Pharaoh 
 served thy friends of old; but be not afraid, ‘For 
 yet a very little while, and the indignation shall 
 cease, and mine anger in their destruction: and 
 the Lord of hosts shall stir up a scourge for him, 
 according to the slaughter of Midian at the rock 
 of Oreb: and as his rod was upon the sea, so shall 
 he lift it up after the manner of Egypt.’ Is. vii; 
 x. 24-26. The sum is, God will, at the day of his 
 rebuilding the New Jerusalem, so visibly make 
 bare his arm, and be so exalted before all by his 
 power towards his people, that no people shall dare 
 to oppose—nr stand, if they do make the least 
 attempt to hinder—the stability of this city. ‘ 1 
 
 will surely (gather, or) assemble, 0 Jacob, all of 
 tliee,’ saith God: ‘I will surely gather the rem¬ 
 nant of Israel - as the sheep of Bozrah, as the 
 flock in the midst of the fold; they shall make 
 great noise by reason of the multitude of men. The 
 breaker is come up before them, they have broken 
 up (the antichristian siege that hath been laid 
 against them), they have passed through the gate, 
 and are gone out by it, and their king shall pass 
 before them, and the Lord on the head of them.’ 
 Mi. ii. 12, is. ‘ Like as the lion and the young lion 
 roaring on his prey, when a multitude of shepherds 
 are called forth against him, he will not be afraid 
 of their voice, nor abase himself for the noise of 
 them: so shall the Lord of hosts come down to 
 fight for Mount Zion, and for the hill thereof.’ 
 Is. xxxi. 4. ‘ The Lord shall go forth as a mighty 
 man, he shall stir up jealousy like a man of war; 
 he shall cry, yea, roar; he shall prevail against 
 his enemies.’ is. xlii. 13. But ‘not by might, nor 
 yet by power,’ that is, the power and arm of flesh, 
 but by the power of the Word and Spirit of God, 
 which will prevail, and must prevail, to quash and 
 overturn all opposition. Zee. xii. 8. Zep. iii. 8. Joel in. 16. 
 Zee. iv. 6. 
 
 Third. \The glory of his majesty .] When God 
 hath thus appeared in the glory of his grace, and 
 the glory of his power, to deliver his chosen, then 
 shall the implacable enemies of God shrink and 
 creep into holes like the locusts and frogs of the 
 hedges, at the appearance of the glory of the majesty 
 of God. Now the high ones, lofty ones, haughty 
 ones, and the proud, shall see so evidently the 
 hand of the Lord towards his servants, and his 
 indignation towards his enemies, that ‘ they shall 
 o-o into the holes of the rocks, and into the caves 
 of the earth, - and into the tops of the ragged 
 rocks, for the fear of the Lord, and for the glory 
 of his majesty, when he ariseth to shake terribly 
 the earth.’ is. ii. 19, 21. 
 
 Where the presence of the Lord doth so appear 
 upon a people, that those that are spectators per¬ 
 ceive and understand it, it must need work on 
 those spectators one of these two things;—either 
 first a trembling and astonishment, and quailing of 
 heart, as it doth among the implacable enemies, 
 Jos. ii. 8-13, or else a buckling and bending of heart, 
 and submission to his people and ways. Jos. ix. 22-25. 
 As saith the prophet, ‘ The sons also of them that 
 afflicted thee shall come bending unto thee, and 
 all they that despised thee shall fall 1 down at the 
 soles of thy feet; and they shall call thee The 
 city of the Lord, the Zion of the Holy One of 
 Israel.’ is. ix. 14. As Moses said to the children of 
 Israel, ‘ The Lord your God shall lay the fear of 
 you, and the dread of you, upon all the laud that 
 
 1 Prom the Genevan or Puritan version. 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 407 
 
 ye shall tread upon, as he hath said unto you.’ 
 
 De. xL 25. 
 
 At this day the footsteps of the Lord will be 
 so apparent and visible in all his actions and dis¬ 
 pensations in and towards his people, this holy city, 
 that all shall see, as I have said, how gracious, 
 loving, kind, and good the Lord is now towards 
 his own children; such glory, I say, will be over 
 them, and upon them, that they all will shine 
 before the world; and such tender bowels in God 
 towards them, that no sooner can an adversary 
 peep, or lift up his head against his servants, but 
 his hand will be in the neck of them; so that in 
 short time he will have brought his church into 
 that safety, and her neighbours into that fear and 
 submission, that they shall not again so much as 
 dare to hold up a hand against her, no, not for a 
 thousand years. Re. xx. 3. ‘ Thus saith the Lord, 
 
 Behold I will bring again the captivity of Jacob’s 
 tents, and have mercy on his dwelling-places; and 
 the city shall be budded on her own heap, and the 
 palace shall remain after the manner thereof. And 
 out of them shall proceed thanksgiving, and the 
 voice of them that make merry; and I will multi¬ 
 ply them, and they shall not be few; and I will 
 also glorify them, and they shall not be small: 
 Their children also shall be as aforetime, and their 
 congregation shall be established before me, and I 
 will punish all that oppress them.’ Je.xxx. 18—20. 
 
 [The light of this city.] 
 
 Having the glory of God. ‘ And her light was 
 like unto a stone most precious, even like a jasper 
 stone, clear as crystal.’ Having thus told us of 
 her glory, even of ‘the glory of God,’ how it at 
 this day will rest upon this city, he now comes to 
 touch a second thing, to wit, ‘her light,’ and that 
 in w hich she descends, and by which, as with the 
 light of the sun, she seeth before her, and behind 
 her, and on every side. This therefore is another 
 branch of her duty; she in her descending hath 
 ‘ the glory of God,’ and also ‘ the light of a stone 
 most precious.’ 
 
 Ezekiel tells us, that in the vision which he saw 
 when he came to destroy the city—which vision 
 was the very same that he saw again at the restor¬ 
 ing of it—he saith, 1 say, that in this vision, among 
 many other wonders, he saw a fire enfolding itself, 
 and a brightness about it, and that ‘ the fire also 
 was bright, and that out of it went forth lightning;’ 
 that ‘ the likeness of the firmament upon the - liv¬ 
 ing creatures, was as the colour of the terrible 
 crystal;’that the throne also, upon which was 
 placed the likeness of a man, w r as like, or ‘ as the 
 appearance of a sapphire-stone.’ Eze. i. 4 , 13,14, 22, 26. 
 All which words, with the nature of their light and 
 colour, the Holy Ghost doth in the vision of John 
 comprise, and placeth within the colour of the jas¬ 
 
 per and the crystal-stone. And indeed, though 
 the vision of John and Ezekiel, touching the end 
 of the matter, be but one and the same, yet they 
 do very much vary and differ in terms and manner 
 of lan£rua£;e; Ezekiel tells us that the man that 
 he saw come to measure the city and temple, had 
 in his hand ‘ a line of flax,’ ch. xi. 3, which line 
 John calls a golden reed; Ezekiel tells us that the 
 river came out of, or ‘ from under the threshold of 
 the house;’ ch. xivii. l; but John saith it came out 
 of the throne of God and of the Lamb. Ezekiel 
 tells us that on either side of this river grew all 
 trees for food; ver. 12; John calls these all trees 
 but one tree, and tells us that it stood on both 
 sides of this river. The like might also be showed 
 you in many other particulars; as here you see 
 they differ as touching the terms of the light and 
 brightness that appears upon this city at her re¬ 
 building, which the Holy Ghost represents to John 
 under the light and glory of the jasper and crystal- 
 stone ; for indeed the end of Ezekiel’s vision was 
 to show us, that as when the glory of God departed 
 from the city, it signified that he would take away 
 from them the light of his Word, and their clear¬ 
 ness of worship, suffering them to mourn for the 
 loss of the one, and to grope for the want of the 
 other; so at his return again he would give them 
 both their former light of truth, and also the 
 clearness of spirit to understand it, which also 
 John doth show us shall last for ever. 
 
 ‘. . . And her light was like unto a stone most 
 precious. . . .’ This stone it is to represent unto 
 us the Lord Jesus Christ, in whose light and clear¬ 
 ness this city comes out of Babylon; for, as he 
 saith, she hath the glory of God, that is, his visible 
 hand of grace, power, and majesty, to bring her 
 forth; so she comes in the light of this precious 
 stone, which terms, I say, both the prophet Isaiah 
 and the apostle Peter do apply to the Lord Jesus, 
 and none else; the one calling him ‘ a precious 
 corner -stone,' the other calling him the ‘chief 
 corner-stone, elect and precious.’ is.xxviii. is. iPe.ii.6. 
 Now then when he saith this city hath the light 
 of this stone to descend in, he means that she 
 comes in the shining wisdom, knowledge, under¬ 
 standing, and influences of Christ, out of her 
 afflicted and captivated state; and observe it, she 
 is rather said to descend in the light of this stone, 
 than in the light of God, though both be true, 
 because it is the man Christ, the stone which the 
 builders rejected, ‘ in whom are hid all the trea¬ 
 sures of wisdom and knowledge,’ of whose fulness 
 we do all receive, and grace for grace; ‘for it 
 pleased the Father that in him should all fulness 
 dwell. ’ Col. it 3. Jn. i. 16. CoL i. 13. see also Ac. ii. 33. and 
 Ep. iv. 10-13. 
 
 This showeth us, then, these two things— 
 
 First. That the time of the return of the saints 
 
408 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 A 
 
 1 
 
 ill 
 
 111 
 
 H;a» 
 
 Wf) 
 
 I! 
 
 im 
 
 ’In 
 
 Ha 
 
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 111 
 
 to build the ruinous city is near, yea, very near, 
 when the light of the Lord Jesus begins to shine 
 unto perfect day in her. God will not bring forth 
 his people out of Babylon, especially those that 
 are to be the chief in the building of this citv. 
 
 The light of the without their own judgments. ‘They 
 
 church shall be shall see eye to eye, when the Lord 
 
 according to the . .. , . J . *' . , 
 
 purity of the shall bring again Zion. is. m. s. As 
 
 he saith also in another place, ‘ The 
 light of the moon shall be as the light of the sun, 
 and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold, as the 
 light of seven days, in the day that the Lord bindeth 
 up the breach of his people, and healeth the stroke 
 of their wound.’ is. xxx. 26. ‘ And the eyes of them 
 
 that see shall not be dim, and the ears of them 
 that hear shall hearken. The heart also of the 
 rash shall understand knowledge, and the tongue 
 of the stammerers shall be ready to speak plainly. ’ 
 is. xxxii. 3,4. The Lord shall be now exalted, and be 
 very high, for he will fill Zion with judgment and 
 righteousness, and wisdom and knowledge shall be 
 the stability of thy times. Is. xxxiii. 5,6 . When Israel 
 went out of Egypt, they wanted much of this, 
 they went out blindfolded, as it were, they went 
 they knew not whither; wherefore they went not 
 in the glory of that which this city descendeth in; 
 as Moses said, ‘ The Lord hath not given you an 
 heart to perceive, nor eyes to see, nor ears to hear, 
 unto this day.’ l)e. xxix. 4. But these shall see every 
 step they take; they shall be like the beasts that 
 had eyes both before and behind: they shall see 
 how far they are come out of Antichrist, and shall 
 see also how far yet they have to go, to the com¬ 
 plete rebuilding and finishing of this city. 
 
 Second. This showeth us how sweet and plea- 
 
 The way out of sant ^ ie wa J °f this church will be at 
 Babylonapiea- this day before them. Light, know- 
 
 ledge, and judgment in God’s matters 
 doth not only give men to see and behold all the 
 things with which they are concerned, but the 
 things themselves being good, they do also by this 
 means convey very great sweetness and pleasant¬ 
 ness into the hearts of those that have the know¬ 
 ledge of them. Every step, I say, that now they 
 take, it shall be as it were in honey and butter. 
 
 ‘ The ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come 
 to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy [see ver. 2.] 
 upon their heads; they shall obtain joy and glad¬ 
 ness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.’ 
 is. xxxv. io. As he saith, ‘ Again I will build thee, 
 and thou shalt be built; 0 virgin of Israel, thou 
 shalt again be adorned with tabrets, and shall go 
 forth in the dances of them that make merry.— 
 For thus saith the Lord, Sing with gladness for 
 Jacob, and shout among the chief of the nations: 
 publish ye, praise ye, and say, 0 Lord, save thy 
 people, the remnant of Israel. Behold, I will 
 bring them from the north country, and gather 
 
 them from the coasts of the earth, and with them 
 the blind and the lame, the woman with child, and 
 her that travaileth with child together ; a great 
 company shall return thither.’ Je. xxxi. 4, 7, 8. 
 
 By these words, the blind and the lame, the 
 woman with child, and her that travaileth, he 
 would have us understand thus much— 
 
 1. That the way of God shall, by the illumin- 
 afing grace of Christ, be made so pleasant, so 
 sweet, and so beautiful in the souls of all at that 
 day, that even the blindest shall not stumble 
 therein, neither shall the lame refuse it for fear of 
 hurt; yea, the blind, the lame, the woman with 
 child, and her that travaileth shall, though they 
 be of all in most evil case to travel, and go the 
 journey, yet, at this day, by reason of the glorious 
 light and sweetness that now will possess them, 
 even forget their impediments, and dance, as after 
 musical tabrets. 
 
 2. This city, upon the time of her rebuilding, 
 shall have her blind men see, her halt and lame 
 made strong; she also that is with child, and her 
 that travaileth, shall jointly see the city-work that 
 at this day will be on foot, and put into form and 
 order, yet before the end. * Behold, at that time 
 I will undo all that afflict thee,’ saith the Lord to 
 his people, ‘ and I will save her that halteth, and 
 gather her that was driven out, and I will get 
 them praise and fame in every land where they 
 have been put to shame. At that time will I 
 bring you again, even in the time that I gather 
 you, for I will make you a name and a praise 
 among all people of the earth, when I turn back 
 your captivity before your eyes, saith the Lord.’ 
 
 Zep. iii. 19, 20. 
 
 ‘ And her light was like unto a stone most pre¬ 
 cious.’ In that he saith her light is like unto ‘a 
 stone most precious,’ he showeth us how welcome, 
 and with what eagerness of spirit this light will at 
 this day be embraced by the Lord’s people. ‘ Truly 
 the light is sweet,’ saith Solomon, ‘ and a pleasant 
 thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.’ Ec. xi. 7. 
 And if so, then how beautiful, desir¬ 
 able, and precious will that light be, 
 that is not only heavenly, and from 
 Christ, but that will be universal 
 among all saints, to show them the same thing, 
 and to direct them to and in the same work. The 
 
 Welcome will be 
 that light that 
 doth show us 
 the way out of 
 Babylon. 
 
 want of this hath, to this day, been one great 
 reason of that crossness of judgment and persua¬ 
 sion that hath been found among the saints, and 
 that hath caused that lingering and disputing about 
 the glorious state of the church in the latter days; 
 some being for its excellency to consist chiefly in 
 outward glory ; and others, swerving on the other 
 side, conclude she shall not have any of this: some 
 conceiving that this city will not be built until the 
 Lord comes from heaven in person; others again 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 409 
 
 concluding that when he comes, then there shall 
 he no longer tarrying here, but that all shall forth- 
 w ith, even all the godly, be taken lip into heaven: 
 with divers other opinions in these matters. And 
 thus many ‘run to and fro,’ but yet, God be 
 thanked, knowledge does increase, though the 
 vision will be sealed, even to the time of the end. 
 Da. xii. 4 . But now, I say, at the time of the end, 
 the Spirit shall be poured down upon us from on 
 high, is. xxxii. 15; now ‘ they also that erred in spirit 
 shall come to understanding,’ Is. xxix. 24; the city 
 shall descend in the light of a stone most precious. 
 The sun will be risen upon the earth, when Lot 
 goeth from Sodom unto Zoar. Ge. xix. 23. 
 
 Now there shall be an oneness of judgment and 
 understanding in the hearts of all saints; they 
 shall be now no more two, but one in the Lord’s 
 hand. Eze. xxxvii. 19-21. Alas ! the saints are yet 
 but as an army routed, and are apt sometimes 
 through fear, and sometimes through forgetfulness, 
 to mistake the word of their captain-general, the 
 Son of God, and are also too prone to shoot and 
 kill even their very right-hand man; but at that 
 day all such doing shall be laid aside, for the 
 knowledge of the glory of the Lord shall cover the 
 earth as the waters cover the sea. is. xi. 9,13. Which 
 knowledge shall then strike through the heart and 
 liver of all swerving and unsound opinions in 
 Christ’s matters; for then shall every one of the 
 Christians call upon the name of the Lord, and 
 that with one pure lip or language, ‘ to serve him 
 with one consent.’ Zep. iii. 9. It is darkness, and 
 not light, that keepeth God’s people from knowing 
 one another, both in their faith and language; and 
 it is darkness that makes them stand at so great 
 a distance both in judgment and affections, as in 
 these and other days they have done. But then, 
 saith God, ‘I will plant in the wilderness,’ that 
 is, in the church that is now bewildered, ‘ the 
 cedar, the shittah tree, the myrtle, and the oil tree; 
 I will set in the desert the fir tree, the pine, and 
 the box tree together; that they may see and 
 know, and consider and understand together, that 
 the hand of the Lord hath done this, and the holy 
 One of Israel hath created it.’ is. xii. 19, 20. And 
 again, ‘ The glory of Lebanon shall come unto 
 thee, the fir tree, and the pine tree, and the box 
 together,’ to beautify the house of my glory, and 
 to ‘ make the place of my feet glorious.’ is. lx. 13. 
 
 Never was fair weather after foul—nor warm 
 weather after cold—nor a sweet and beautiful 
 spring after a heavy, and nipping, and terrible 
 winter, so comfortable, sweet, desirable, and wel¬ 
 come to the poor birds and beasts of the field, as 
 this day will be to the church of God. Darkness! 
 it was the plague of Egypt: it is an empty, for¬ 
 lorn, desolate, solitary, and discomforting state; 
 therefore light, even the illuminating grace of 
 vol. in. 
 
 God, especially in the measure that it shall be 
 communicated unto us at this day, it must needs 
 be precious. In light there is warmth and plea¬ 
 sure ; it is by the light of the sun that the whole 
 universe appears unto us distinctly, and it is by 
 the heat, thereof that everything groweth and 
 flourislieth ; all which will now be gloriously and 
 spiritually answered in this holy and new Jerusa¬ 
 lem. 2 Th. ii. 0 how clearly will all the spiders, 
 and dragons, and owls, and foul spirits of Anti¬ 
 christ at that day be discovered by the light here¬ 
 of! Re. xviii. 1-4. Now also will all the pretty robins 
 and little birds in the Lord’s field most sweetly 
 send forth their pleasant notes, and all the flowers 
 and herbs of his garden spring. Then will it be 
 said to the church by her Husband and Saviour, 
 ‘llise up, my love, my fair one, and come away; 
 for lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and 
 gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of 
 the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the 
 turtle is heard in our land; the fig tree putteth 
 forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender 
 grape give a good smell.’ Ca. ii. 10-13. You know 
 how pleasant this is, even to be fulfilled in the 
 letter of it, not only to birds and beasts, but men; 
 especially it is pleasant to such men that have for 
 several years been held in the chains of affliction. 
 It must needs, therefore, be most pleasant and 
 desirable to the afflicted church of Christ, who 
 hath lain now in the dungeon of Antichrist for 
 above a thousand years. But, Lord, how will this 
 lady, when she gets her liberty, and when she is 
 returned to her own city, how will she then take 
 pleasure in the warm and spangling beams of thy 
 shining grace ! and solace herself, with thee in the 
 garden, among the nuts and the pomegranates, 
 among the lillies and flowers, and all the chief 
 spices. Ca. vii. 11-13. 
 
 ‘Even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal.* 
 These words are the metaphor by which the Holy 
 Ghost is pleased to illustrate the whole business. 
 Indeed similitudes, if fitly spoke and applied, do 
 much set off and out 1 any point that either in the 
 doctrines of faith or manners, is handled in the 
 churches. Wherefore, because he would illustrate, 
 as well as affirm, the glory of this Jerusalem 
 to the life, therefore he concludes his general de¬ 
 scription of this city with these comparisons:— 
 I saw, saith he, the holy city, the Lamb’s wife ; 
 I saw her in her spangles, and in all her adorning, 
 but verily she was most excellent. She was 
 shining as the jasper, and as pure and clear as 
 crystal. The jasper, it seems, is a very beautiful 
 and costly stone, inasmuch as that, above all the 
 precious stones, is made use of by the Holy Ghost 
 to show us the glory and shining virtues of the 
 
 1 ‘ Set out i render prominent, plain, or conspicuous.—Eu. 
 
 52 
 
410 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 Lord Jesus in tliis New Jerusalem; and yet, be¬ 
 hold, the jasper is too short and slender to do the 
 business, there must another stone be added, even 
 like a jasper stone, clear as crystal. Yea, saith 
 the Lord Jesus, her cheeks are like rows of jewels, 
 and so are the joints of her thighs; even like the 
 jewels that are ‘ the work of the hands of a cun¬ 
 ning workman.’ Ca. i. 9, 10 ; and vii. l. 
 
 The crystal is a stone so clear and spotless, that 
 even her greatest adversaries, in the midst of all 
 their rage, are not able justly to charge hei with 
 the least mote or spot imaginable; wherefore when 
 he saith, that this city in her descending is even 
 like the jasper for light, and like the crystal for 
 clearness; he would have us further learn, that at 
 the day of the descending of this Jerusalem, she 
 shall be every way so accomplished with innocency, 
 sincerity, and clearness in all her actions, that 
 none shall have from her, or her ways, any just 
 occasion given unto them to slight, contemn, 01 
 oppose her. For, 
 
 First, As she descends, she meddleth not with 
 any man’s matters but her own; she comes all 
 along by the King’s highway; that is, alone by 
 the rules that her Lord hath prescribed for her in 
 his testament. The governors of this world need 
 not at all to fear a disturbance from her, or a 
 diminishing of ought they have. She will not 
 meddle with their fields nor vineyards, neither will 
 she drink of the water of their wells: only let her 
 go by the King’s highway, and she will not turn 
 to the right hand or to the left, until she hath 
 passed all their borders. Nu. xx. 18,19; xxi. 22. It is 
 a false report then that the governors of the na¬ 
 tions have received against the city, this New 
 Jerusalem, if they believe, that according to the 
 tale that is told them, she is and hath been of old 
 a rebellious city, and destructive to kings, and a 
 diminisher of their revenues. I say, these things 
 are lying words, and forged even in the heart of 
 ‘ Bishlam, Mithredatli, Tabeel, and the rest of 
 their companions.’ Eze. iv. 7. For verily this city, 
 in her descending, is clear from such things, even 
 as clear as crystal. She is not for meddling with 
 anything that is theirs, from a thread even to a 
 shoe-latchet. Her glory is spiritual and heavenly, 
 and she is satisfied with what is her own. 1 It is 
 true, the kings and nations of this world shall 
 one day bring their glory and honour to this city; 
 but yet not by outward force or compulsion; none 
 shall constrain them but the love of Christ and 
 
 1 In Bunyan’s days, a few fanatics from among tlie Fifth 
 Monarchy men conceived that the millenium had arrived, and 
 that it was their duty to take possession of the kingdom tor 
 Jesns. They were mad enough, like the late Mr. Courtnay, 
 to imagine that their bodies were invulnerable,, and they 
 marched out to seize London. A few of the trained hands 
 soon encountered them, some were shot and the rest were 
 punished, and this absurd attempt was at an end in a few 
 
 the beauty of this city. ‘ The Gentiles shall come 
 to thy light, and kings to the bright- see more of this 
 ness of thy rising.’ Is. lx 3. The light 
 and beauty of this city, that only shall engage 
 their hearts, and overcome them. Indeed, if 
 any shall, out of mistrust or enmity against this 
 city and her prosperity, bend themselves to disap¬ 
 point the designs of the eternal God concerning 
 her building and glory, then they must take what 
 folioweth. Her God in the midst of her is mighty, 
 he will rest in his love, and rejoice over her with 
 singing, and will undo all that afilict her. Zep. iii. 
 17 — 19 . Wherefore, ‘associate yourselves, 0 ye 
 people, and ye shall be broken in pieces; and give 
 ear, all ye of far countries; gird yourselves, and ye 
 shall be broken in pieces; gird yourselves, and ye 
 shall be broken in pieces. Take counsel together, 
 and it shall come to naught; speak the word and 
 it shall not stand; for God is with us.’ is. vih. 9, 10 . 
 
 What work did he make with Og the king of 
 Bashan, and with Sihon, king of the Amorites, 
 for refusing to let his people go peaceably by them, 
 when they were going to their own inheritance. 
 Nu. xxi. 22-35. God is harmless, gentle, and pitiful; 
 but woe be to that people that shall oppose or gain¬ 
 say him. He is gentle, yet a lion ; he is loth to 
 hurt, yet he will not be crossed; ‘ Fury is not in 
 me,’ saith he; yet if you set the briars and thorns 
 against him, TIg ‘ will go through them, and burn 
 them together. ’ Is. xxvii. 4 . J erusalem also, this be¬ 
 loved city, it will be beautiful and profitable to 
 them that love her; but a cup of trembling, and 
 a burthensome stone to all that burden themselves 
 with her; ‘ all that burthen themselves with it, 
 shall be cut in pieces, though all the people of the 
 earth be gathered together against her.’ Zec.xii. 2 , 3. 
 
 Again, she will be clear as crystal in the ob¬ 
 servation of all her turns and stops, in her joui- 
 neying from Egypt to Canaan, from Babylon to 
 this Jerusalem state. She will, I say, observe 
 both time and order, and will go only as her God 
 doth go before her; now one step in this truth, 
 and then another in that, according to the dispen¬ 
 sation of God, and the light of day she lives in. 
 As the cloud goes, so will she; and when the 
 cloud stays, so will she. Re. xiv. 4 ; Ex. xi. 36—38. She 
 comes in perfect rank and file, ‘terrible as an army 
 with banners. ’ Ca. vi. 10 . N 0 Balaam can enchant hei, 
 she comes ' out of the wilderness like pillars of 
 smoke, perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, 
 with all spices 2 of the merchants.’ Ca, iii. 6. Still 
 
 hours. This gave the enemies of true religion a pretext, 
 which they eagerly seized, of charging these absurd notions 
 upon all who feared God, and a severe persecution followed. 
 To deprecate and counteract these reports, Bunyan is very 
 explicit in noting the difference between a spiritual and a tem¬ 
 poral kingdom.—E d. . 
 
 2 ‘Spices’ is from the Genevan version; our authorized 
 
 text has ‘ powders.’—E d. 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 411 
 
 ‘leaning upon her beloved.’ Ca.viii. 5. The return of 
 Zion from under the tyranny of her afflictors, and 
 her recovery to her primitive purity, is no head¬ 
 strong brain-sick rashness of her own, but the 
 gracious and merciful hand and goodness of God 
 unto her, therefrom to give her deliverance. ‘For 
 thus saitli the Lord, That after seventy years be 
 accomplished at Babylon (that is, the time of the 
 reign of Antichrist, and his tyranny over his 
 church) I will visit you, and perform my good 
 word toward you, in causing you to return to this 
 place.’ Je. xsix. 10. ‘Therefore they shall come and 
 sing in the height of Zion, and shall flow together 
 to the goodness of the Lord, for (spiritual) wheat, 
 and for wine, and for oil, and for the young of the 
 Rock and of the herd; and their soul shall be as 
 a watered garden; and they shall not sorrow any 
 more at all.’ is. lvii. 11; j e . xxxi 12. 
 
 [SECOND. A Discovery of its Defence, 
 Entrances, and Fashion in Particular.] 
 
 Verse 12 . ‘And had a wall great and high, and 
 had twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, 
 and names written thereon, which are the names 
 of the twelve tribes of the children of Israel.’ 
 These words do give us to understand, that this 
 holy city is now built, and in all her parts com¬ 
 plete, they give us also to understand the manner 
 of her strength, <fcc. 
 
 ‘And had a wall.’ Having thus, I say, given 
 
 Of her defence. US ° descri P tion of this <% in general, 
 he now descends to her strength and 
 
 frame in particular: her frame and strength, I 
 say, as she is a city compact together: as also of 
 her splendour and beauty. 
 
 And observe it, that of all the particulars that 
 you read of, touching the fence, fashion, or frame 
 of this city, and of all her glory, the first thing 
 that he presenteth to our view is her safety and 
 security; she ‘had a wall.’ A wall, you know, 
 is for the safety, security, defence, and preserva¬ 
 tion of a place, city, or town; therefore it is much 
 to the purpose that in the first place after this 
 general description, he should fall upon a dis¬ 
 covery of her security and fortification; for what of 
 all this glory and goodness, if there be no way to 
 defend and preserve it in its high and glorious 
 state? If a man had in his possession even moun¬ 
 tains of pearl and golden mines, yet if he had not 
 wherewith to becure and preserve them to himself, 
 from those that with all their might endeavour to 
 get them from him, lie might not only quickly 
 lose his treasure, and become a beggar, but also 
 through the very fear of losing them, even lose 
 the comfort of them, while yet in his possession. 
 To speak nothing of the angels that fell, and of 
 tho glory that they then did lose. I may instance I 
 
 to you the state of Adam in his excellency; Adam, 
 you know, was once so rich and wealthy, that he 
 had the garden of Eden, the paradise of pleasure, 
 yea, and also the whole world to boot, for his in¬ 
 heritance; but mark, in all his glory, he was 
 without a wall; wherefore presently, even at the 
 very first assault of the adversary, he was not 
 only worsted as touching his person and standing, 
 but even stripped of all his treasure, his paradise 
 taken from him, and he in a manner left so poor, 
 that forthwith he was glad of an apron of fig- 
 leaves to cover his nakedness, and to hide his 
 shame from the face of the sun. Ge. m. 7. Where¬ 
 fore, I say, John speaks to the purpose in saying 
 she had a wall; a wall for defence and safety, for 
 security and preservation. Now then she shall lio 
 no longer like blasted bones in an open field or 
 valley; that was her portion in the days of her 
 affliction. Eze. xxxvii. l, 2. 
 
 [The wall of the city.] 
 
 * And had a wall.’ It is said of old Jerusalem, 
 that she had a wall and a wall, two walls for her 
 defence and safety: Je.xxxix. 4 ; Je. in. 7 ; which two, in 
 my judgment, did hold forth these two things. 
 The one, their eternal preservation and security 
 from the wrath of God, through the benefits of 
 Christ; and the other, that special protection and 
 safeguard that the church hath always had from 
 and by the special providence of her God in the 
 midst of her enemies, Wherefore one of these is 
 called by the proper name of salvation, which sal¬ 
 vation I take in special to signify our fortification 
 and safety from the wrath of God, and the curse 
 and power of the law and sin. Is. xxvi. 1 ; Ac. iv. 12. 
 The other is called, A wall of fire round about 
 her; and alludeth to the vision that the prophet’s 
 servant was made to see for his comfort, when he 
 was put in fear, by reason of the great company 
 of the enemies that were bending their force 
 against the life of his master. Eze. ii. 5 ; 2 Ki. vi. 17. 
 
 But now in those days, though there were for 
 the defence of the city those two walls, yet they 
 stood a little distance each from other, T}ie reag011 of 
 and had a ditch between them, which tu '° walls - 
 was to signify that though then they had the 
 wall of salvation about them, with reference to 
 their eternal state, yet the wall of God’s providence 
 and special protection was not yet so nearly joined 
 thereto but that they might, for their foolishness, 
 have that broken down, and thev suffered to fall 
 into the ditch that was between them-both, i&.xxii 
 10-12. And so he saith by the prophet, ‘1 will tell 
 you what I will do to my vineyard (that is, to 
 this city for the wickedness thereof), I will take 
 away the hedge thereof, and it shall be eaten up; 
 and break down the wall thereof, and it shall be 
 trodden down.’ is. v. 5-7. Which hedo’e and wail 
 
412 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 could not be that of eternal salvation, for that 
 stood sure, though they should he scattered among 
 the nations ‘ as wheat is sifted in a sieve.’ Am. ix. 9. 
 
 It must therefore he the wall of her special pre¬ 
 servation in her outward peace and happiness, 
 which wall was often in those days broken down, 
 and they made havoc of, of all that dwelt about 
 them. 
 
 But now touching the safety of New Jerusalem, 
 the city of which I here discourse, she is seen in 
 
 Two walls made the vision by John to have but one 
 one. on iy W all; to signify that at this 
 
 day the wall of her eternal salvation, and of God s 
 special providence to protect and defend her, in 
 her present visible and gospel glory, shall be so 
 effectually joined together, that now they shall be 
 no more two, that is, at a distance, with a ditch 
 between, but one sound and enclosing wall ; to 
 show us that now the state of this Jerusalem, 
 even touching her outward glory, peace, and tran¬ 
 quillity, will be so stable, invincible, and lasting, 
 that unless that part of the wall which is eternal 
 salvation, can be broken down, the glory of this 
 city shall never be vailed more. Wherefore the 
 prophet, when he speaks with reference to the 
 happy state and condition of this city, he saith, 
 
 «Violence shall no more be heard in 
 T t h hey e bo°h M ie thy land, wasting nor destruction 
 made one. within thy borders ; but thou shalt 
 call thy walls salvation, and thy gates praise, 
 is.Lx. is; as he saith also in another place, ‘Thine eye 
 shall see Jerusalem a quiet habitation, a tabernacle 
 that shall not be taken down, not one of the stakes 
 thereof shall ever be removed, neither shall any 
 of the cords thereof be broken.’ is. xxxiii. 20. The 
 walls are now conjoined, both joined into one; the 
 Father hath delivered up the great red dragon 
 into the hand of Christ, who hath shut him up 
 and sealed him down, even down for a thousand 
 years. Re. xx. 1-3. Wherefore from the Lord shall 
 there be ‘ upon every dwelling-place of Mount 
 Zion, and upon her assemblies a cloud and smoke 
 by day, and the shining of a flaming fire by night; 
 for upon all her glory shall be a defence.’ is.iv. 5. 
 And ‘in that day shall this song be sung: We 
 have a strong city, salvation will God appoint for 
 Avails and bulwarks.’ is. xxv-i, 1, 2. The same in 
 effect hath our prophet John, saying ‘I saw the 
 holy city, the New Jerusalem,’ descending out of 
 heaven from God, ‘prepared as a bride adorned 
 for her husband. And I heard a great voice out 
 of heaven, saying, - The tabernacle of God is with 
 men, and he will dwell with them: - and God him¬ 
 self shall be with them, and be their God. And 
 God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; 
 and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, 
 nor crying; neither shall there be any more pain; 
 for the former things are passed away.’ Re. xxi. 1-4. 
 
 «And had a wall great and high.* These 
 Avords, great and high, are added for Thewaiiisgreat 
 illustration, to set out the matter to 
 the height; and indeed the glory of a wall lieth in 
 this, that it is great and high; the Avails of the 
 Canaanites were terrible upon this account, and 
 did even sink the hearts of those that beheld them. 
 De. i. 28 . Wherefore this city shall be most certainly 
 in safety, she hath a wall about her, a great wall: 
 a wall about her, an high wall. It is great for 
 compass, it incloseth every saint; it is great for 
 thickness, it is compacted of all the grace and 
 goodness of God, both spiritual and temporal; and 
 lor height, if you count from the utmost side to 
 the utmost, then it is higher than heaven, who can 
 storm it? He. vii. 26. and for depth, it is lower than 
 hell, Avho can undermine it? Jobxi. 8. 
 
 Great mercies, high mercies, great preservation, 
 and a high arm to defend, shall con- The height of 
 tinually at this day encamp this city: ’ ! 
 
 God himself will be a continual life-guard to this 
 city; ‘ I will encamp,’ saith he, ‘ about mine house, 
 because of the army, because of him that passeth 
 by, and because of him that returneth; and no 
 oppressor shall pass through them any more; for 
 now have I seen Avith mine eyes.’ Zee. ix. 8. 
 
 
 [ The gates of the city. ] 
 
 ‘ And had twelve gates.’ Having thus shoAved 
 us her wall, he now comes to her The gates of the 
 gates; it had gates, it had twelve Clty ‘ 
 gates. By gates in this place Ave are to under¬ 
 stand the Avay of entrance; gates, you knotv, are 
 for coming in, and for going out, Je. xviL 19 , 20; and 
 do in this place signify tivo things. First, An 
 entrance into communion with the God and Saviour 
 of this city. Secondly, Entrance into what the gates 
 communion with the inhabitants and 
 privileges of this city; in both Avhich the gates do 
 signify Christ: for as no man can come to the 
 knowledge and enjoyment of the God, and glorious 
 Saviour, but by and through the Lord Christ; so 
 no man can come into true and spiritual com¬ 
 munion with these inhabitants, but by him also: 
 
 ‘ I am the way,’ saith he, ‘ and the truth, and the 
 life; no man cometh unto the Father but by me:’ 
 and again, ‘ I am the door, by me if any man 
 enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and 
 out, and find pasture.’ Jn. x. 1 —9 ; xiv. 6. 
 
 ‘ And had twelve gates.’ In that he saith 
 twelve gates, he alludeth to the city Twdvcgat ^ 
 of Jerusalem that was of old, Avhich 
 had just so many, Ne. iii. xii. 37—39 ; and are on pur¬ 
 pose put into the number of twelve, to answer to 
 the whole number of the elect of God, which are 
 comprehended within the number of why twelve 
 the twelve tribes, whether they are 
 natural Jews or Gentiles; for as all the godly 
 
 
 
T1IE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 413 
 
 Jews are the seed of Ahrahain after the flesh, 
 though not godly, because they are the children of 
 the flesh of Abraham; so all the godly Gentiles 
 are the children of Abraham after the spirit, though 
 not by that means made the children of the flesh 
 of Abraham. They both meet then in the spirit 
 and faith of the gospel, as God saith to the Jews, 
 ‘ When a stranger shall sojourn with thee, and 
 will keep the passover to the Lord,’ that is, become 
 godly, and receive the faith of Christ, let all his 
 males be circumcised, and then let them come 
 near, and keep it, &c. Ex. xii. 48 . For they that 
 are of faith, are the children of faithful Abraham, 
 who is called the very father of us all. Ga. iii. 7. 
 Ro. iv. 16 . Thus you see all the godly come under 
 the title of the children of Abraham, and of the 
 Jews; and so under the denomination also of being 
 
 The twelve gates P ersons belonging to the tribes, the 
 do answer the twelve tribes, who answer to those 
 twelve tribes, twelve gates. Wherefore the Psalmist 
 
 minding this, speaking indefinitely of all the godly, 
 under the name of the tribes of Israel; saying, 
 ‘ Our feet shall stand within thy gates, 0 Jerusa¬ 
 lem. Jerusalem is builded as a city that is com¬ 
 pact together, whither the tribes go up, the tribes 
 of the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give 
 thanks unto the name of the Lord.’ Ps. cxxii.2-4. 
 
 But again, though I am certain that all the 
 Gentiles that are at any time converted, are 
 reckoned within the compass of some of the tribes 
 of Israel, to which the gates of this city may truly 
 be said to answer; yet the gates are here in a 
 special manner called by the name of twelve, to 
 answer to the happy return and restoration of those 
 poor distressed creatures the twelve tribes of the 
 Jews that are scattered abroad, and that are, and 
 for a long time have been to our astonishment and 
 their shame, as vagabonds and stragglers among 
 the nations, Ho. ix. 17, there to continue ‘ many days, 
 without a king, and without a prince, and without 
 a sacrifice, and without an ephod.’ Ho. iii. 4 . That 
 is, without the true God, the true Saviour, and the 
 true word and ordinances; after which, saith the 
 same prophet, they shall even in the latter days, 
 that is, when this city is builded, return and seek 
 the Lord their God, and David their king, and 
 shall then ‘ fear the Lord and his goodness.’ Ho.iii.5. 
 
 This the apostle also affirmeth, when he telleth 
 the believing Gentiles that blindness in part is 
 happened to Israel, until the fulness of the Gen¬ 
 tiles be come in; which Israel in this place cannot 
 by any means be taken for the Gentiles that are 
 converted, for this Israel must be rejected until 
 the bulk of the elect Gentiles be converted; be¬ 
 sides he calleth this Israel by the name of Israel, 
 even while unconverted; but the converted Gen¬ 
 tiles still Gentiles, even when converted: he calls 
 this Israel the natural branches, but the Gentiles 
 
 wild branches; aud tells us further, that when 
 they are converted, they shall be grafted into their 
 own olive tree; but when the Gentiles are con¬ 
 verted, they must be cut off of their own stock 
 and tree: read Ro. xi. throughout. Wherefore, I 
 say, the gates are called twelve, to answer these 
 poor creatures, who at this day shall be awakened, 
 and enlightened, and converted to the faith of 
 Jesus. These gates in another place are called a 
 way, and these Jews, the kings of the east; and 
 it is there said also, that at present this way doth 
 want preparing; which is as much as to say this 
 city wants setting up, and the gates want setting 
 in their proper places. Wherefore, saith John, 
 the sixth angel poured out his vial upon the great 
 river Euphrates, that is, destroyed the strength 
 and force of the Roman antichrist—for the river 
 Euphrates was the fence of literal Babylon, the 
 type of our spiritual one—which force and fence, 
 when it is destroyed or dried up, then the way of 
 the kings of the east will be prepared, or made 
 ready for their journey to this Jerusalem. Re. xvi.12. 
 Of this the prophets are full, crying, ‘ Cast ye up, 
 cast ye up, prepare the way, take up the stumbling 
 block out of the way of my people.’ is. ivii. 14. And 
 again, * Go through, go through the gates, pre¬ 
 pare ye the way of the people; cast up, cast up 
 the high way; gather out the stones, lift up a 
 standard for the people. Behold, the Lord hath 
 proclaimed unto the end of the world, Say ye to 
 the daughter of Zion, Behold thy salvation cometh; 
 behold his reward is with him, and his work be¬ 
 fore him. And they shall call them, The holy 
 people, the redeemed of the Lord : and thou shalt 
 be called, Sought out; A city not forsaken.’ Is. 
 lxii. 10-12. All which doth most especially relate to 
 the conversion of the Jews in the latter day, who 
 in great abundauce shall, when all things are 
 made ready, come flocking in to the Son of God, 
 and find favour, as in the days of old. 
 
 [ 7 he angels at the gates, what they are. ] 
 
 ‘ And at the gates twelve angels. ’ By angels 
 in this place, we are to understand The angels, and 
 the messengers and ministers of the wliat the y **<>. 
 Lord Jesus, by whom the mystery of eternal life 
 and felicity is held forth and discovered before the 
 sons of men; and thus this word angel is fre¬ 
 quently taken in this prophecy. Re. i. 20 ; il 1 , 8, 12 , is; 
 
 iii. 1 . 7 ; xiv. 0 . 
 
 ‘ And at the gates twelve angels ’— 
 
 In these words, then, there are two things to be 
 considered. First. Why they should be called 
 twelve. And, Second. Why they are said to stand 
 at the twelve gates of this new and holy city. 
 
 First. They are called twelve, to signify two 
 things. 1. The truth of their doc- why the angels 
 trine. And, 2. The sufficiency of their twelve. 11 ^ be 
 
414 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 doctrine and ministry for the converting of the 
 twelve tribes to the faith of Christ, and privileges 
 of this city. 
 
 1. For the truth of their doctrine: for by twelve 
 here he would have us to understand that he hath 
 his eye upon the twelve apostles, or upon the doc¬ 
 trine of the twelve, the apostolical doctrine. As 
 if he should say, This city, the New Jerusalem, 
 shall be every way accomplished with beauty and 
 glory; she shall have a wall for her security, and 
 twelve gates to answer the twelve tribes; yea, and 
 also at these gates the twelve apostles, in their 
 own pure, primitive, and unspotted doctrine. The 
 Romish beasts have corrupted this doctrine by 
 treading it down with their feet, and have muddied 
 this water with tneir own dirt and filthiness. 1 Eze. 
 xxxiv. 17 , is. But at this day, this shall be recovered 
 from under the feet of these beasts, and cleansed 
 also from their dirt, and be again in the same 
 glory, splendour, and purity, as in the primitive 
 times. It is said that when Israel was passed 
 out of Egypt, beyond the sea, they presently came 
 to Elim, where were twelve wells of water, &c., 
 and that they encamped by the waters. Ex. xv. 27. 
 Which twelve wells did figure forth the doctrine 
 of the t’welve apostles, out of which the church, at 
 her return from captivity, shall draw and drink, 
 as out of the wells of salvation. Now shall the 
 wells of our father Abraham, which the Philistines 
 have for a great while stopped; now, I say, shall 
 they again be opened by our Isaac, his son; and 
 shall be also called after their own names. Ge.xxvi. 18. 
 This is generally held forth by the prophets, that 
 yet again the church shall be fed upon the moun¬ 
 tains of Israel, and that they ‘ shall lie down in a 
 good fold, and a fat pasture;’ yea, ‘ I will feed 
 my flock, and I will cause them to lie down, saith 
 the Lord God.’ Eze. xxxiv. 14 , 15 . 
 
 2. As by these twelve we are to understand 
 the truth and purity of the doctrine of the twelve, 
 so again, by this word twelve, we are to understand 
 the sufficiency of that doctrine and ministry to 
 bring in the twelve tribes to the privileges of this 
 city. Mark, for the twelve tribes there are twelve 
 gates, for every tribe a gate; and at the twelve 
 gates, twelve angels, at every gate an angel. ‘0 
 Judah,’ saith God, ‘lie hath set an harvest for 
 thee, when I returned the captivity of thy people.’ 
 Ho. vi. 11 . And so for the rest of the tribes; before 
 Ephraim and Benjamin, and Manasseh, lie will 
 stir up his strength to save them. rs. lxxx. 2 . ‘ I will 
 hiss for them,’ saith God, * and gather them, for 
 
 1 Referring to the attempts made in Bunyan’s days to in¬ 
 troduce Popery. It is admirably shown in the Pilgrim's Pro¬ 
 gress, p. 193—‘This is the spring that Christian drank of; 
 then it was clear and good, but now it is dirty with the feet 
 cf some that are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench 
 their thirst.’—(En.) 
 
 1 have redeemed them ; and they shall increase as 
 they have increased: and I will sow them among 
 the people, and they shall remember me in far 
 countries, and they shall live with their children, 
 and return again ; I will bring them again also out 
 of the land of Egypt, and gather them out of As¬ 
 syria, and I will bring them into the land of Gilead 
 and Lebanon, and place shall not be found for 
 them.’ Zee. x. 8-10. 
 
 [Second.] But to come to the second question, 
 that is, Why these twelve angels are Why tiie twelve 
 said to stand at the gates ? which may el& twelve 
 be for divers reasons. s ates * 
 
 1. To show us that the doctrine of the twelve 
 is the doctrine that letteth in at these gates, and 
 that also that shutteth out. * Whosesoever sins 
 ye remit, they are remitted,’ saith Christ, ‘ and 
 whosesoever sins ye retain, they are retained.’ 
 Jn. xx. 23. Mat. xviii. is. And hence it is that the true 
 ministers, in their right administration, are called 
 porters; because as porters stand at the gate, and 
 there open to, or shut upon, those that make an 
 attempt to enter in, Mar. xiii. 34 ; so the ministers of 
 Christ, by the doctrine of the twelve, do both open 
 to and shut the gates against the persons that will 
 be attempting to enter in at the gates of this city. 
 
 2 Ch. xxiii. 19 , 
 
 2. But again, they are said to stand at the 
 gates for the encouraging and persuading of the 
 tempted and doubting Jews, who at the beginning 
 of their return will be much afflicted under the 
 sight and sense of their own wretchedness. 'Alas! 
 were it not for some to stand at the gates of this 
 city for instruction, and the encouragement of those 
 that will at that day in earnest be looking after 
 life, they might labour as in other things for very, 
 very vanity; and might also be so grievously beat 
 out of heart and spirit, that they might die in de¬ 
 spair. But now to prevent this for those that are 
 in the way to Zion with watery eyes, and wetted 
 cheeks, here stand the angels, continually sounding 
 with their golden gospel-trumpets, * Enter into his 
 gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with 
 praise; be thankful unto him, and bless his name. 
 For the Lord is good, and his mercy is everlasting, 
 and his truth endureth' for ever, even ‘to all gen¬ 
 erations.’ Ps. c. 4 , 5. As he saith again, ‘And it 
 shall come to pass in that day, that the great 
 trumpet shall be blown, and they shall come which 
 were ready to perish in the land of Assyria, and 
 the outcasts in the land of Egypt, and shall wor¬ 
 ship the Lord in the holy mount at Jerusalem.’ 
 
 Is. xxvii. 13 . 
 
 [The names written on the gates.] 
 
 * And at the gates twelve angels, and names 
 written thereon, which are the names of the twelve 
 tribes of the children of Israel. Thus it was in 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 415 
 
 the vision of the prophet, when he was taking a 
 view of the pattern of this city: * And the gates 
 of the city,’ saitli the angel to him, ‘ shall be after 
 the names of the tribes of Israel.’ Eze. xiviii. si. 
 Which saying John doth hero expound, saying, 
 the names of the twelve tribes of the children of 
 Israel were writ or set upon them. 
 
 This being thus, it cleareth to you what I said 
 hut now, to wit, that the gates are called twelve, 
 to answer the twelve tribes, for their names are 
 written thereon. This must therefore, without all 
 doubt, be a very great encouragement to this de¬ 
 spised people; I say great encouragement, that 
 notwithstanding all their rebellion, blasphemy, and 
 contempt of the glorious gospel, their names should 
 he yet found recorded and engraved upon the very 
 gates of New Jerusalem, Thus then shall the 
 Jews he comforted in the latter days; and truly 
 they will have but need hereof ; for doubtless, at 
 their return, when they are thoroughly sensible of 
 the murder they have committed, not only upon the 
 bodies of the prophets and apostles, but of the Son 
 of God himself, I say this must needs, together 
 with the remembrance of the rest of their villainous 
 actions, exceedingly afflict and distress their bleed¬ 
 ing souls. Tor ‘ the children of Israel shall come, 
 they and the children of Judah together, going 
 and weeping; they shall go and seek the Lord their 
 God. They shall ask the w T ay to Zion, with their 
 faces thitherward.’ Je. l. 4 , 5. Mark, ‘ going and 
 weeping;’ there will not be a step that these poor 
 people will take in the day of their returning, but 
 will be watered with the tears of repentance and 
 contrition, under the consideration of the wicked¬ 
 ness that, in the days of their rebellion, they have 
 committed against the Lord of glory. As he saith 
 also by another prophet, ‘ I will pour upon the 
 house of David, and upon the inhabitants of Jer¬ 
 usalem, the spirit of grace and of supplications: 
 and they shall look upon me whom they have 
 pierced, and they shall mourn for him, as one 
 mourneth for his only so?i, and shall be in bitter¬ 
 ness for him, as one that is in bitterness for his 
 firstborn. In that day shall there be a great 
 mourning in Jerusalem, as the mourning of Hadad- 
 riimnon in the valley of Megiddon, and the laud 
 shall mourn.’ Zee. xii. 10-12. 
 
 Wherefore, I say, they both have and also will 
 have need of twelve gates, and on them the names 
 of their twelve tribes, with an angel at each, to 
 encourage them to enter this holy and goodly city; 
 and to tell them that yet he counts them his friends 
 in whose house he received the wounds in his hands. 
 
 Zee. xiii. 6. 
 
 But again, As by the names of the twelve tribes 
 written on the gates, we may see what encourage¬ 
 ment the Jews will have, at their return, to enter 
 in at them ; so wo may also understand that by 
 
 the names of the twelve tribes here written, God 
 would have us to perceive how all must be qualified 
 that from among the Gentiles at this day do enter 
 in at these gates; namely, those, and those only, 
 that be cut out of their own wild olive tree, and 
 transplanted among the children of Israel, into 
 their good olive tree. Such as are Jews inwardly, 
 the Israel of God, according to the new creature, 
 they shall enter, for the holy Gentiles also, by 
 virtue of their conversion, are styled the children 
 of Abraham, Jews, the chosen generation, the 
 peculiar people, the holy nation; and so are spirit¬ 
 ually, though not naturally by carnal generation, 
 of the twelve tribes whose names are written upon 
 the gates of the city. Ga. iii. 7 . Ro. ii. 28 . 1 Pe. ii. 9 , 10. 
 * And it shall come to pass,’ saith the prophet, 
 ‘ that in what tribe the stranger,’ that is, the Gen¬ 
 tile ‘ sojourneth, there shall ye give him his inherit¬ 
 ance, saith the Lord God.’ Eze. xivii. 23 . Thus the 
 Jews and Gentiles shall meet together in the spirit 
 of the gospel, and so both become a righteous 
 nation; to both which the gates of this city shall 
 stand continually open; at which also they may 
 with boldness demand, by the faith of the Lord 
 Jesus, their entrance, both for communion with 
 the God, grace, and privileges of this city, accord¬ 
 ing to that which is written, ‘ Open ye the gates, 
 that the righteous nation which keepeth the truth 
 may enter in.’ is. xxvi. 2. Thus much of the num¬ 
 ber of the gates, and now to proceed to the order 
 of them. 
 
 [ The order of the gates. ] 
 
 Ver. 13. ‘On the east three gates, on the north 
 three gates, on the south three gates, and on the 
 west three gates.’ I shall not speak anything to 
 the manner of his repeating of the quarters towards 
 which the gates do look; why he should begin at 
 the east, then to the north, afterwards crossing to 
 the south, and last to the west; though I do verily 
 think that the Holy Ghost hath something to show 
 us, wherefore he doth thus set them forth. And 
 possibly he may set them thus, and the west last, 
 not only because the west part of the world is that 
 which always closeth the day, but to signify that 
 the west, when Jerusalem is rebuilded, will be the 
 last part of the world that will bo converted, or 
 the gate that will be last, because longest, occupied 
 with the travels of the passengers and wayfaring 
 men in their journey to this Jerusalem. But i 
 pass that. 
 
 From the order of their standing, I shall inquire 
 into two things. First. Why the gates should 
 look in this manner every way, both east, west, 
 north, and south ? Second. Why there should bo 
 three, just three, on every side of this city? ‘On 
 the east three, on the north three, on the south 
 three, and on the west three.* 
 
41 r, 
 
 TIIE HOLY CITY, OH 
 
 First . For tlie first, the gates by looking every 
 why the gates way, into all quarters, may signify to 
 look* every way, us thus much, that God hath a people 
 
 in every corner of the world. And also, that 
 grace is to be carried out of these gates by the 
 angels in their ministry into every place, to gather 
 them home to him. As it is said of the living 
 creatures, ‘ Whither the head looked they followed 
 it, they turned not as they went,’ Eze. x. 11 ; so 
 whithersoever the gates look, thither the ministers 
 go, and carry the Word, to gather together the 
 elect. He ‘ sent them two and two before his face, 
 into everv city and place whither he himself would 
 come.’ Lu. x. 1. Mat. xxviii. 19. Jn. xi. 52. 
 
 Again, the gates, by their thus looking every 
 way, do signify to us, that from what quarter or 
 part of the world soever men come for life, for those 
 men there are the gates of life, even right before 
 their doors. Come they from the east, why thither 
 look the gates ; and so if they come from north, or 
 west, or south. No man needs at all to go about 
 to come at life, and peace, and rest. Let him 
 come directly from sin to grace, from Satan to 
 Jesus Christ, and from this world to New Jerusa¬ 
 lem. The twelve brazen oxen that Solomon made 
 to bear the molten sea, l Ki. vii. 23 — 25 , they stood 
 just as these gates stand, and signify, as I said 
 before, that the doctrine of the twelve apostles 
 should be carried into all the world, to convert— 
 as in the primitive times, so now at the building 
 of New Jerusalem—and to bring in God’s sheep 
 to the fold of his church. Now, I say, as the 
 Word is carried every way, so the gates, the open 
 srates, look also into all corners after them, to 
 
 O 7 m 
 
 signify that loving reception that shall be given to 
 every soul that from any corner of the whole world 
 shall unfeignedly close in with grace, through the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. Thus, therefore, men ‘ shall 
 come from the east, and from the west, and from 
 the north, and from the south, and shall sit down 
 in the kingdom of God.’ Lu. xiii. 29 . Ps. cvii. 1 - 3 . 
 
 [Second.] ‘ On the east three gates, on the north 
 three gates, on the south three gates, and on the 
 west three gates.’ Having thus showed you in a 
 word, why they stand thus looking into every 
 corner or quarter of the world, I now come to 
 show you why there must be just three looking in 
 this manner every way. 
 
 1. Then, there may be three looking every way, 
 Why there is to signify that it is both by the con- 
 three gates sent 0 f t | ie three persons in the Trinity, 
 
 way.. that the gospel should thus every way 
 
 go forth to call men, and also to show you that 
 both the Father, Son, and Spirit, are willing to 
 receive and embrace the sinner, from whatsoever 
 part or corner of the earth he cometh hither for 
 life and safety. Come they from whence they 
 will, the Father is willing to give them the Son, 
 
 and so is the Son to give them himself, and so is 
 the Spirit to give them its help against whatever 
 may labour to hinder them while they are here. 
 
 Jn. iii. 16. Re. xxi. 6 ; xxii. 17. 
 
 2 . In that three of the gates look every way, it 
 may be also to show us that there is none can 
 enter into this city, but by the three offices of the 
 Lord Jesus. Christ by his priestly office must 
 wash away their sins; and by his prophetical 
 office he must illuminate, teach, guide, and refresh 
 them ; and by his kingly office, rule over them and 
 govern them with his Word. He. vii. 5. Jn. xiii. 8. Ac. 
 iii. 22—24. Is. xl. 10, 11; Lx. 6, 7. Ps. lxxvi. 1—3; cx. 3. 
 
 3 . Or, by three gates, may be signified the 
 three states of the saints in this life; an entrance 
 into childhood, an entrance into a manly state, and 
 an entrance into the state of a father of the church, 
 i Jn. ii. 12-14. Or, lastly, the three gates may sig¬ 
 nify the three-fold state we pass through from 
 nature to glory; the state of grace in this life, the 
 state of felicity in paradise, and our state in glory 
 after the resurrection: or thus, the state of grace 
 that possesseth body and soul in this life, the state 
 of glory that possesseth the soul at death, and the 
 state of glory that both body and soul shall be 
 possessed with at the coming of the Lord and 
 Saviour. This was figured forth by the order of 
 the stairs in the temple at Jerusalem, which was 
 first, second, and third, by which men ascended 
 from the lowest to the uppermost room in the 
 house of God; as he tells us, ‘ They went up with 
 winding stairs ’ from the first into the second story, 
 and from thence by them into the third. 1 Ki. vi. 8. 
 Thus much for the wall and gates of New Jeru¬ 
 salem. 
 
 [The foundations of the wall.] 
 
 Ver. 14 . * And the wall of this city had twelve 
 foundations, and in them the names The foundations 
 of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.’ of the wall. 
 
 In these words we have two things considerable:— 
 First. That the city-wall hath twelve foundations. 
 Second. That in these twelve are the names of the 
 twelve apostles of the Lamb. 
 
 First. It hath twelve foundations. This argueth 
 invincible strength and support. That wall that 
 hath but one foundation, how stropgly doth it 
 stand, if it be but safely laid upon a rock, even so 
 strono-lv that neither wind nor weather, in their 
 
 O %f 
 
 greatest vehemency, are able to shake or stir it to 
 make it fall. But I say, how much more when a 
 city hath foundations, twelve foundations, and those 
 also laid by God himself; as it is said concerning 
 the worthies of old, they ‘ looked for a city which 
 hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God ’ 
 
 lie. xi. 10. 
 
 * And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, 
 and in them the names of the twelve apostles of 
 
TITE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 417 
 
 the Lamb.’ The wall, you know, I told you, is 
 the wall of salvation, or the safety of the church 
 by Jesus Christ, to which is adjoined, as the effect 
 of that, the special providence and protection of 
 God. Now this wall, saitli the Holy Ghost, hath 
 twelve foundations, to wit, to bear it up for the 
 continuation of the safety and security of those 
 that are the inhabitants of this city ; a foundation 
 is that which bearetli up all, and that upon which 
 the stress of all must lie and abide. Now, to 
 speak properly, the foundation of our happiness is 
 but one, and that one none but the Lord Jesus; 
 
 ‘ For other foundation can no man lay, than that 
 is laid, which is Jesus Christ.’ l Co. ffl.ii. So then, 
 when he saith the wall of the city had twelve 
 foundations, and that in them also are written the 
 names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb, he doth 
 not mean that this wall had twelve Christs for its 
 , . support, but that the doctrine of the 
 
 It is flic doctrine ^ a 
 
 of the twelve a- twelve apostles is that doctrine upon 
 uMiie^wafs'of which both Christ, and grace, and 
 
 the New Jeru- happiness standeth firm and sure 
 saiein. m 
 
 for ever. And to signify also, that 
 neither Christ nor any of his benefits can be 
 profitable unto thee, unless thou receive him alone 
 upon the terms that they do hold him forth and 
 offer him to sinners in their word and doctrine. If 
 ‘ we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other 
 gospel unto you,’ saith Paul, ‘than that which 
 we have preached unto you, let him be accursed. 
 As we said before, so say I now again, if any 
 man preach any other gospel unto you, than 
 that ye have received, let him be accursed.’ Ga. 
 L 8, 9. 
 
 [*S t econd.'\ ‘And in them the names of the 
 twelve apostles of the Lamb.* ‘ And in them their 
 names.’ This makes it manifest that by the found¬ 
 ations of this wall, we are to understand the doc¬ 
 trine of the twelve apostles of the Lord Christ, for 
 their names are to it, or found engraved in the 
 foundations. Thus it was with the doctrine which 
 was the foundation of the Jewish church; the first 
 pattern being delivered by the man Moses, his 
 name was always so entailed to that doctrine, that 
 at last it became common, and that by Divine 
 allowance, to call that doctrine by the name of 
 Moses himself. ‘ There is one that accuseth you,’ 
 saith Christ, * even Moses in whom ye trust.’ Jn. v. 45 . 
 And again, ‘For Moses of old hath in every city 
 them that preach him.’ Ac. xv. 21 . The same liberty 
 of speech doth the Holy Ghost here use in speaking 
 of the foundations of this wall, which is the doc¬ 
 trine of the twelve. And in that he calleth 
 the doctrine by the name of foundations, and 
 leaveth it only with telling us the names of the 
 twelve apostles are engraven in it; he expects 
 that men should be wise that read him, and that 
 they should be skilful in the word of righteous- 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 ness, if they come up clearly to the understanding 
 of him. 
 
 ‘ And in them the names of the twelve apostles 
 of the Lamb.* 
 
 Thus you see that the twelve apostles, above all 
 the servants of Christ, are here owned The doctrine of 
 to be the foundations of this wall; and pJJS^of l aU 
 good reason, for they, above all other, other - 
 are most clear and full in the doctrine of grace, 
 and all doctrines pertaining to life and holiness. 
 ‘In other ages,’ saith Paul, it ‘was not made 
 known unto the sons of men, as it is now revealed 
 to the holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit.’ 
 Ep. iii. 5 . Moses was not fit for this, for his was a 
 more dark and veiled administration; while Moses 
 is read, the veil is over the heart, said Paul. 2 Cor. 
 m. 13 - 15 . Neither was any of the prophets fit for 
 this, for they were all inferior to Moses, and were, 
 as it were, his scholars. Nu. xii. 6, 7 . Nay, John the 
 Baptist is here shut out;—for the ‘ least in the 
 kingdom of heaven is greater than lie.’ Mat. xi. 11 . 
 
 The apostles, above all other, were the men that 
 were with the Lord Jesus all the time, from the 
 baptism of John, even until the time he was taken 
 up into heaven; they saw him, heard him, and 
 discoursed with him, and were beholders of all the 
 wondrous works that he did; they did eat and 
 drink with him after his passion, and saw, after he 
 was risen, the print of the nails, and the spear with 
 which he was pierced, when he died for our sins. 
 Lu. xxiv. 39 , 40 . And because they had seen, felt, and 
 at such a rate experienced all things The twelve went 
 from the very first, both touching his f u e) their 11 experi- 
 doctrine, miracles, and life, therefore euce - 
 he said unto them in chief, Ye shall be witnesses 
 unto me, both in Jerusalem and all Judea, and in 
 Samaria, and unto the utmost parts of the earth. 
 
 Ac. i. 8, 21; xiii. 81; x. 39; li. 32. 1 Jn. i. 1—3. 
 
 Further, The apostles were in that marvellous 
 manner endued with the Holy Ghost, that they 
 out-stript all the prophets that ever went before 
 them; neither can I believe that in the best of 
 times there should be any beyond them; yet if it 
 should so fall out that a dispensation should come 
 in which they should have, as to the pouring forth 
 of the Spirit, their equals, yet it could not follow, 
 that therefore the gospel should be offered in other 
 terms than they at first have offered it, especially 
 besides what hath been said of them, if you con¬ 
 sider to them it was said, ‘ Whatsoever ye shall 
 bind on earth, shall be bound in heaven; and 
 whatsoever ye shall loose on earth, shall be loosed 
 in heaven.’ Mat. xviiL 18. They, as to their doctrine, 
 were infallible, it was impossible they 
 
 , , . • -i i • i The foundation 
 
 should err; he that despised their doc- may not be ai- 
 
 trine, despised God himself. Besides, lULd ‘ 
 
 they have given in commandment that all should 
 
 write after their copy, and that w*e should judge 
 
 53 
 
41S 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 both men and angels that did, or would do other¬ 
 wise. 1 Th. iii. 8 . Ga i. 8. 
 
 Timothy must have his rule from Paul, and so 
 must holy Titus. All which, if we consider it, the 
 Holy Ghost speaks to the purpose, in saying that 
 in the twelve foundations are found the names of 
 the twelve apostles of the Lamb. They are called 
 the chief, and such as have laid the foundation, 
 and others build thereon, and that as no men have 
 laid the foundation but they, so none can lay even 
 that foundation otherwise than they afore have laid 
 it. 1 Cor. xii. 28. Ep. iv. 11, 12. 1 Cor. iii. 6-11. He. vi. 1-3. 
 
 [Consideration from these words.~\ ‘ And in them 
 the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. 
 These words, then, teach us two things worthy of 
 our Christian consideration. 
 
 First. That God hath given to every man a 
 certain and visible mark to aim at for his salva¬ 
 tion, or to build his soul upon, namely, the doc¬ 
 trine of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. For in 
 that he saith their names are in the foundations, 
 it is better for us, all things considered, than if 
 he had said in them was the name of God himself; 
 that is, it is more easy to see this way, through 
 the mist of our carnality, what the mystery of his 
 will should be, which is, that we receive Christ 
 The names of the according to their doctrine, words, 
 S' S. ‘of writings, epistles, letters, he., their 
 heaven. names, I say, being there, God counts 
 
 it as the broad seal of heaven, which giveth 
 authority to all that doctrine whereunto by them¬ 
 selves they are prefixed and subscribed ; not where 
 they are writ by others, but by themselves. I 
 say, as the token of every epistle, and of their 
 doctrine for truth, the which Paul insinuates, when 
 he saith that his hand is the token of every epistle. 
 
 2 Th. iii. 17. Ga. vi. ii. As lie saith again, Am I not 
 an apostle? lCo.ix.i. And again, Behold, I Paul, 
 have written unto you; I Paul, Ga.v. 2 . I, an 
 apostle, I, a wise master-builder, I, who am in my 
 doctrine one of the foundations of the wall of sal¬ 
 vation, I have written unto you. lCor. xi. 5 . And, 
 as I said before, there is reason it should be thus; 
 for as he who was the foundation of the Jewish 
 church, even Moses, received the pattern of all his 
 order from the mouth of the angel in Mount Sinai, 
 so the twelve received their doctrine of faith and 
 manners, the doctrine of the New Testament, from 
 the mouth of the Son of God himself, as from the 
 mouth of the angel of the everlasting covenant, on 
 the mountain of Zion. Ac. vii. 38; i. 3. Mat. xxviii. 19. 
 
 Second. In that he saith the names of the twelve 
 
 1 All authority in the church is strictly limited to the 
 written Word. Throw away then to the owls and the bats ail 
 tradition, and the power of the church to decree rites and cere¬ 
 monies. It is treason against God to suppose that he omitted 
 anything from his Bible that his church ought to do, or com¬ 
 manded that which may be neglected, although human laws 
 
 may authorize such deviation.—(Ei>.) 
 
 are in tbe foundations, this shows us the reason of 
 the continual standing of this Jerusalem; it is 
 built upon the doctrine of the twelve apostles of 
 the Lamb, and standeth there. For, observe, so 
 long as he sees this holy city, he sees her standing 
 upon these foundations; but he saw the city till 
 she was taken up, therefore she continued as being 
 settled for ever upon them. Indeed, the primitive 
 city, or first churches, was built upon these found¬ 
 ations, and had also, so long as they there con¬ 
 tinued, sufficient supportation and upholding by 
 that means. Ep. ii. 20 - 22 . But then, as I have 
 showed you, the wall of her salvation, and the wall 
 of God’s special protection, stood at a distance 
 each from other, and were not so conjoined as now 
 they will be. Wherefore they then, to answer the 
 type, did fall into the ditch that was between, and 
 through their foolishness provoked God to remove 
 the wall of his outward protection and safeguard 
 from them, whereupon the wild beast, Antichrist, 
 got into his vineyard, making havoc of all their 
 dainties. But mark, this city is not so, the walls 
 are now conjoined, and for ever fastened upon the 
 foundations , 1 2 therefore it abides for ever, and 
 ascends higher and higher; yet not from the 
 foundations, but by them into heaven: ‘Behold,’ 
 saith God, ‘ I have graven thee upon the palms of 
 my hands, thy walls are continually before me.’ 
 
 Is. xlix. 16. 
 
 [How we are to understand the word twelve.] 
 
 ‘ And in them the names of the twelve apostles 
 of the Lamb.’ This word twelve must be warily 
 understood, or else the weak will be ready to stumble 
 and take offence; wherefore, to prevent this, con¬ 
 sider, 
 
 First. The twelve must be them twelve that were 
 with the Lord Jesus from the baptism How you are to 
 of John until the day in which our ^derstend^e 
 Lord was taken up. Ac. i. 22 . 
 
 Second. These twelve are not neither to be con¬ 
 sidered simply as twelve Christians, or twelve dis¬ 
 ciples ; but as their witness of the Lord Jesus— 
 they being with him from first to last—were a 
 twelve-fold witness of him in all his tilings; a 
 twelve-fold seeing with their eyes, a twelve-fold 
 hearing with their ears, a twelve-fold handling also 
 with their hands, and feeling of the Son of God. 
 As one of them said, ‘ That which was from the 
 beginning, which we have heard, which we have 
 seen with our eyes, - and our hands have handled 
 of the word of life; - that which we have seen and 
 heard, declare we unto you, that ye also may have 
 fellowship with us,’ &c. 1 Ju. i. 1, 3. Now this being 
 thus, it folioweth that the doctrine of the other 
 
 2 The walls do not go from or leave the foundations, but, 
 resting upon them, they gradually ascend to perfection. (Ed.) 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 419 
 
 apostles, as of Paul and Barnabas, was still but 
 the doctrine of the twelve; their doctrine, I say, 
 and no other. Wherefore, as Ephraim and Man- 
 asseh were dissolved into the twelve tribes, so these 
 two, with all other the apostles of Christ, are dis¬ 
 solved into the number of the twelve, because their 
 doctrine is only the doctrine of the twelve; for 
 they centre in their doctrine; their length, and 
 breadth, and depth, and height being the doctrine 
 of the twelve. So, then, the names of the twelve 
 being found in the foundations of this wall, it argu- 
 eth that that doctrine is only true that is the doc¬ 
 trine of the twelve eye-witnesses of the Lord Jesus. 
 And again, that at the day of Antichrist’s fall, 
 this doctrine shall be in its former purity, and bear 
 the sway, and for ever hold up the wall of safety 
 for the inhabitants of New Jerusalem. And indeed 
 this doctrine, that the doctrine of the twelve is that 
 upon which eternal safety is built and stands, is so 
 true, that it must not be varied from upon pain of 
 eternal damnation. Here centered Luke the Evan¬ 
 gelist, here centered Jude, here centered the author 
 to the Hebrews, yea, here centered Paul himself, 
 with all the Old and New Testament. The doc¬ 
 trine of the twelve must be the opener, expounder, 
 and limiter of all doctrines; there also must all 
 men centre, and ground, and stay. A man may 
 talk of, yea, enjoy much of the Spirit of God, hut 
 yet the twelve will have the start of him; for they 
 both had the Spirit as he, and more than he. 
 Besides, they together with this, did feel, see, 
 handle, and receive conviction, even by their very 
 carnal senses, which others did not; besides, their 
 names also are found in the foundations of this 
 saving wall, as being there engraved by God him¬ 
 self ; which puttetli all out of doubt, and giveth us 
 infallible ground that their doctrine is only true, 
 and all men’s false that do not keep within the 
 bounds and limits of that. Lu. i. 2 . Jude 3 , 17 . He. ii. 3 , 4 . 
 1 Co. xv. 1—3 ; ix. 1. Ga. i. 1, 2. Ep. iii. 5. 1 Co. iv. 9. 
 
 To conclude, here are yet two things worthy of 
 noting — The first [ consideration ] is, that by the 
 names of the twelve apostles being in the founda¬ 
 tions of this wall, and the names of the twelve 
 tribes being upon the gates of this city, it giveth 
 us to consider, that at the time of the building of 
 this city the Jews and Gentiles shall be united 
 together, and become one body; which very con¬ 
 sideration must needs be to the Jews a great 
 encouragement to have in mind at their conver- 
 sion. Ro. xi. i Pe. i. l. For it plainly signifieth that 
 our New Testament preachers shall carry in their 
 mouths salvation to the Jews, by which means 
 they shall be again reconciled and made one with 
 the Lord Jesus. Ja. i. 1. Ac. xiii. 16, 26. Ro. L 16; ii. 10. 
 
 The second consideration is, that at the day of 
 New Jerusalem, there shall be no doctrine ac¬ 
 cepted, nor no preachers regarded, but the doc¬ 
 
 trine, and the preaching of the doctrine of the 
 twelve; for in that he saith that in , T , 
 
 No preacher now 
 
 them are found the names of the avowed but he 
 twelve apostles of the Lamb, he doth th^dortnnTof 
 implicitly exclude all other, of what- the twelve ' 
 ever tribe they pretend themselves. It shall not 
 be then as now, a Popish doctrine, a Quaker’s 
 doctrine, a prclatical doctrine, and the Presbyter, 
 Independent, and Anabaptist, 1 thus distinguished, 
 and thus confounding and destroying. But the 
 doctrine shall be one, and that one the doctrine 
 where you find the names of the twelve apostles of 
 the Lamb. ‘ If any man teach otherwise, and con¬ 
 sent not to wholesome words, even the words of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ, and the doctrine that is 
 according to godliness, he is proud, knowing 
 nothing. ’ 1 Ti. vi. 3 , 4. 
 
 Thus you see the doctrine of the twelve is that 
 which letteth souls into this city; and that the 
 same doctrine is the doctrine that keepeth up the 
 wall of their salvation about them, when they are 
 entered in within the gates. 
 
 \The measuring line, or golden reed: what it is .] 
 
 Ver. 15. * And he that talked with me had a 
 golden reed to measure the city, and the gates 
 thereof, and the wall thereof. ’ 
 
 Now, having passed the relation of the wall, 
 gates, and foundations, he comes to the A goidcu 
 measuring line, to see how all things lie reed - 
 and agree with that. Under the law, I find that 
 all things pertaining to the worship of God were to 
 be by number, rule, and measure, even to the very 
 tacks and loops of the curtains of the tabernacle. 
 Now the rule or line by which all things were then 
 squared, it was the laws, statutes, and ordinances 
 which were given to Moses by the Lord in the 
 Mount Sinai, for thither he went to receive his 
 orders ; and according to the pattern there showed 
 him, so he committed all things by writing to them 
 that were to be employed in the workmanship of 
 the holy things pertaining to the rise and com¬ 
 pleting of the tabernacle, and all its instruments. 
 
 Ex. xx. 21; xxiv. 1; xxv. 40. De. xxx. 10; xxxi. 20—26. 
 
 Now, when this rule was thus received, then 
 whosoever observed not to do it, he was to fall 
 under the penalty that by the same law also was 
 prescribed against the offenders and transgressors. 
 Nu. xv. 30, 3i. I find also, that when the temple was 
 built in the days of Solomon, all things were then 
 done according to the writing that David made, 
 when the hand of God was upon him, when he 
 made him understand all the work of this pattern. 
 
 2 Ch. iii., iv. 1 Ch. xxix. 3—7 ; xxviii. 19. 
 
 Thus again, when Josiali went about to bring to 
 
 1 Anabaptist was the name given to those wl*o submitted 
 to be baptized upon a profession of faith, because, having been 
 christened when infants, it was called re-baptizing.—(End 
 
420 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 pass the reformation of the church of the Jews, 
 and their instruments of worship, after their re¬ 
 volting, he goetli to the law of God, and by that 
 understanding what was out of order, and how to 
 put all things into order, he so did reduce them to 
 their former manner. The same way also went 
 Ezra and Nehemiah. at the rebuilding of the 
 temple and city after the captivity. 2 Ki. xxii. 8 - 13 . 
 Ezr. vii. 14 ; via. 34 . From all which I conclude, that 
 the reed, the golden reed, that here 
 ^s^the 1 Word of you read of, it is nothing else but the 
 Go(L pure and unspotted Word of God; 
 
 by which both the city, gates, and wall of this 
 Jerusalem are regulated. Which word, by the 
 holy prophet, i 3 also compared to gold, and is said 
 to be above 4 much fine gold. ’ Ps. xii. 6; xix. 10 . 
 
 I find in the vision of the prophet Ezekiel, that 
 the angel that there is said to measure the city, 
 which was a type of our Jerusalem, he appeared 
 with a line of flax in his hand, to measure the 
 pattern withal, Eze. xi. 3 ; which very phrase doth 
 show us that this was but the type, and an Old 
 Testament business ; but Jolin hath his in a New 
 Testament style, and that in the most excellent 
 manner of language, to signify that his city, or the 
 city that he hath the vision of, is to be the end of 
 all types and shadows, and the very perfection of 
 them all. Wherefore he tells us also, 
 Timnf lin^of that the line or reed by which this 
 jNewJerusalem - g balded and squared, it is not 
 
 called a golden q, line of flax, but a reed ot gold, 
 a golden reed; to signify not a word 
 of the law and letter that had to do with shadows, 
 but the New Testament, and ministration of the 
 Spirit, which hath to do with substance, and the 
 heavenly things themselves. He. ix. 23. 
 
 [The city measured,.] 
 
 ‘ A golden reed to measure the city,’ Ac. I told 
 you at the first that this city was the church of God 
 that should be in the latter days; but yet not the 
 church disorderly and confusedly scattered here and 
 there, without all visible order and discipline, but 
 the church brought into exact form and order, 
 lying every way level and square with the rule and 
 golden reed of the New Testament of Christ; where¬ 
 fore he calleth it a city, a city under rule. Thus it 
 was in the type; for when Solomon’s temple was to 
 be builded, and the city in after times, it was not 
 enough that they had stones and timber, but every 
 one of them must be such stones, and such timber, 
 and must also come under the rule and square of 
 the workman; and so being fitted by hewers, 
 saws, axes, and squares, they were fitly put into 
 the building. 1 Ki. v. 17, 18 ; vii. 9-12. 1 Ch. xxii. 2. By 
 this, then, we may see with what a holy, exact 
 line, rule, and order, this church and city, at this 
 day, will be compact and built; the members must 
 be all such as shall be made fit for the city of God 
 
 by the hewing words of the prophets, no. vi. 5. They 
 must join in Christian communion also according 
 to the golden reed of the New Testament, and 
 ministration of the Spirit. Indeed, all the time of 
 the reign of Antichrist, the church, as she was a 
 holy temple in the Lord, so she was measured 
 with reference to the truth of her grace, and in¬ 
 visible condition, Re. xi. l, 2 ; but as she is to be a 
 city, so she then is to be trodden down, and to lie 
 without all form and order; but when Antichrist 
 is dead, she shall again come into mind, be con¬ 
 sidered, reared, built by measure, and inhabited. 
 And observe it, as the rule of the carpenter is of 
 use in building, from the first appearance of the 
 laying of a stone in order, even till it be in every 
 point and part complete, so the golden reed with 
 which the angel is here said to measure the city, 
 <fec., is to be of use from the first foundation even 
 to the laying of the last stone thereof; as was also 
 fore-showed by the man that is said to measure the 
 pattern of this, in Ezekiel. Eze. xxx.—xiviii. 
 
 * And he measured the city.’ That is, he mea¬ 
 sured the church in her constitution and fellowship. 
 Now when God is said to measure, he is said to 
 measure sometimes in judgment, and sometimes in 
 mercy; sometimes to throw down, and sometimes 
 to build up and establish. Sometimes, I say, he 
 is said to measure in judgment, with intention to 
 throw down and destroy. Thus he measured the 
 city before she went into captivity, and the ten 
 tribes before they were carried away beyond Baby¬ 
 lon, because they lay cross to his word, and had 
 perverted that which was right, Ac. is. xxviii. 17, is. 
 Am. vii. 7 - 9 . But when he is said to measure the 
 city in this place, it is that she might be built and 
 set up. Wherefore, as I said, the line or golden 
 reed that is now stretched forth to measure this 
 city, it is to the end that all things may be in 
 right form and order, ‘ fitly joined ’ and knit ‘ to¬ 
 gether, - by that which every joint supplieth, ac¬ 
 cording to the effectual working in the measure of 
 every part, making increase of the body, unto the 
 edifying of itself in love.’ Ep. iv. 16. Col. ii. 19. 
 
 Again, By measuring the city, he would have 
 us to understand that all her limits and bounds 
 were now apparent, that all things, even the church 
 and all the world, were made to see their own 
 compass. For as God in the days when temple- 
 worship only was on foot, would not lose a form 
 or ordinance of all the forms and ordinances of his 
 temple; so when city-work comes up, he will not 
 lose an inch of the limits, and bounds, and com¬ 
 pass of his city, she shall be full as large, and of 
 as great a compass every way, as is * This* is ftafc 
 determined of her; as he saith by the before is called 
 prophet, ‘ All the land, saith he, shall a “ e d w a new 
 be turned as a * plain;’ that is, there earth - 
 shall be a smooth face upon the whole earth, 
 
THE NEW .JERUSALEM. 
 
 421 
 
 fill snugs, and hubs, 1 and lulls, and holes, shall 
 now be taken away, even ‘ from Geba to Rim- 
 mon, south of Jerusalem: and it (the city) shall 
 be lifted up and inhabited in her place, from 
 Benjamin’s gate unto the place of the first gate, 
 unto the corner gate, and from the tower of Ha- 
 naniel, unto the king’s wine presses.’ Zee. xiv. 19 . 
 The four places here mentioned in this verse, they 
 do seem to be the four corners of the city of old; 
 at which places the city bounds were set; and in 
 which very circle the prophet tells us, but with 
 gospel language, she shall be settled again. 
 
 [ The gates measured. ] 
 
 * And he measured the city,’ and the gates 
 The gates mea- thereof. This was figured forth by 
 sural. the yi s i on i n Ezekiel, for in it he saw 
 the angel go from gate to gate, and saw him take 
 the exact and distinct measure of every one thereof; 
 nay, not only of them in a general way, but of the 
 thresholds, the porch, the posts, and the faces of 
 their entrances; he measured also every little 
 chamber that was above upon the gates, with all 
 the spaces that were between. Eze. xi. 
 
 Now by gates, I told you, we are to understand 
 the Son of God, as he is the way to the Father, 
 and to the privileges of this city. Wherefore 
 when he saith he measured the gates, it is as if he 
 had said, he measured the entrance, strength, and 
 goodly countenance of him, with the mansions of 
 glory that are to be enjoyed by every one that 
 entereth in hereby; for the porch, posts, face, en¬ 
 trance, and chambers of the gate in Ezekiel, they 
 signify the entrance, strength, shining countenance, 
 and resting places that every one shall find in the 
 Lord Jesus that entereth in by him; and to mea¬ 
 sure all these, it is in substance but this, to set 
 them forth, and out, in their full force, glory, 
 largeness, beauty, and profitableness, in the view 
 of all; for I told you at the first, the golden reed 
 is the Word of God. Now the city and the gates 
 thereof, are said to be measured by this golden 
 reed: which, I say, can be nothing else but an 
 opening of all the excellencies of Christ, as he is 
 the gate of the sheep, even by the full sway, 
 power, majesty, and clearness of the Word. The 
 Lord help us! Christ, as he is the door to God, 
 and to all gospel-privileges, is now strangely 
 handled, and so hath been of a long time among 
 the sons of men; some of them making him the 
 very in-let to all the vile and abominable crew in 
 the world, counting all that are pliant to their un¬ 
 godly humours, the saints of the Most High, and 
 Christ the door and gate through whom they have 
 right to enter; and to whom belong the delicate3 
 of the precious things of God, even those which he 
 
 1 ‘ Hub;’ an obstruction, a thick square sod, the mark or 
 stop at the game of quoits.— (Ed.) 
 
 hath most choicely laid up and reserveth for none 
 but those that unfeignedly turn from iniquity, and 
 walk with him in the newness of the Spirit. 
 Others again do shut up the gates against the 
 godly, labouring with might and main to hinder 
 those that labour to enter, that fain would do it 
 unfeignedly. 2 Mat. xxiii. 14. 2 Ch. xxix. 7 . Others again 
 do labour all that in them lies to deface the gates, 
 to take away their beauty: like him that took the 
 gold from off the doors and gates of the temple. 
 2 Ki. xviii. 16 . Rendering Christ a low and carnal 
 business, &c. But at the measuring-day, at the 
 day w r hen the golden reed shall be the alone rule: 
 then you shall see this city, and her gates dis¬ 
 covered in their own glory, holiness, and beauty. 
 For though in our affliction under antichrist, our 
 temple and instruments of worship, with the city, 
 wall, gates, and the like, have been much defaced, 
 even our doctrine of faith and worship, and have 
 been much trod and trampled under the foot of the 
 uncircumcised, yet all shall be recovered and 
 brought into order again by the golden reed of the 
 word of God. Which thing was figured forth to 
 us by the good man Ezra the scribe, who at the 
 restoring of Jerusalem took review of all the things 
 pertaining to the city, both touching its breaches 
 and deformity, and also how to set all things in 
 order, and that by the law of God which was in 
 his hand, even according to the writing thereof. 
 Ezr. vii. 14; viii. 34. Ne. viii. 9. And whosoever doth but 
 read the history of Ezra and Nehemiah through¬ 
 out, they shall find that by the Word of God they 
 brought all things to pass; all the ordinances of 
 the house and city of God into their right and holy 
 order. And indeed the measuring of the city and 
 of the gates thereof, which is Christ the way, it 
 can be nothing else but a bringing of them by the 
 right understanding and opening of the Word into 
 their proper places and excellencies, both for 
 comers in, and goers out, according to the com¬ 
 mandment. Eze. xi. 4; xim. 7 - 12 . For, to speak pro¬ 
 perly, Christ in his love, grace, merits, and large¬ 
 ness of heart, to let souls into communion with 
 God and all happiness, is in all these things un¬ 
 searchable, and passing knowledge, being filled 
 with these things beyond thought, and without 
 measure. Ep. Hi. 8, is, 19 . Col. i. 9. Jb. m. 34 . 
 
 [The wall measured.] 
 
 And he measured the city, the gates thereof, 
 and the wall thereof. In that he saith, The wnll mea- 
 he measured the wall also, it is to sural, 
 show us that all things now are according to the 
 rule of the Word: the inhabitants are according to 
 
 2 These observations apply to such churches as admit to 
 the Lord’s table unconverted persons, because they have passed 
 through certain outward ceremonies; and to those who refused 
 to admit the most godly saints, because they had not submitted 
 to an outward ceremony.—(E d.) 
 
422 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 the Word, the entrance is according to the Word, 
 yea, and so is the safety of it also, even a fence to 
 fence them from their enemies; even a fence on 
 every side, that they may he at ease and rest, and 
 he no more a tossing to and fro. ‘ 0 thou afflicted, 
 tossed with tempest,’ saith he, ‘ and not com¬ 
 forted, (I will do many good things for thee) - In 
 righteousness shalt thou he established: thou shalt 
 he far from oppression; for thou shalt not fear; 
 and from terror, for it shall not come near thee.’ 
 Is. liv. 11—14. 
 
 Touching the wall, what it is, I have spoken 
 already; therefore here I speak only to the mea¬ 
 sure of it, which measure is only the fulfilling all 
 those promises and engagements of God that are 
 made to New Jerusalem, for her safety and con¬ 
 tinual defence; and that not only in her own eyes, 
 hut in the eyes of all her beholders. Then shall 
 that saying be with gladness in the mouths of all 
 the inhabitants of this Jerusalem, ‘ We were bond- 
 men, yet our God hath not forsaken us in our 
 bondage, but hath extended mercy unto us in the 
 sight of the kings of Persia, to give us a reviving 
 to set up the house of our God, and to repair the 
 desolations thereof, and to give us a wall in Judah 
 and in Jerusalem.’ Ezr. ix. 9. Which wall, I say, 
 shall be so conspicuous to all the adversaries of 
 this holy and beloved city, that the greatest of 
 them shall not once dare to peep or mutter 1 against 
 her any more. ‘ God is known in her palaces for 
 a refuge. For, lo, the kings were assembled, they 
 passed by together, they saw it, and so they mar¬ 
 velled ; they were troubled, and hasted away. 
 Fear took hold upon them there, and pain, as of a 
 woman in travail.’ Ps. xiviii. l—6. As it is said of 
 the building of the wall after the captivity: when 
 the enemies and all the heathen saw it was finished, 
 
 ‘ they were much cast down in their own eyes. ’ 
 
 Ne. vi. 15, 16. 
 
 The regulating of this city by this golden reed, 
 and the measuring the gates and wall by this word, 
 when finished, will then cause all that have skill 
 in singing the Lord’s songs, and of lifting up the 
 praises of God in this city, to gather themselves 
 together to sing, and to praise, and to say, Bless 
 ye the name of the Lord, for his mercies endure 
 for ever: for then will they purify the people, this 
 city, with the gates and wall thereof. Ne. xii. 27 — 47 . 
 
 Wherefore in the mean time, between this and 
 the building of this city, let Jerusalem come into 
 your mind, and walk about her, ‘ go round about 
 her,’ inquire by the Word what God hath said of 
 her state, strength, safety, ease, peace, and blessed 
 tranquillity in the latter days, ‘ tell the towers 
 thereof. Mark ye well her bulwarks, consider her 
 
 1 See Is. viii. 19. ‘ To peep and mutter/ as pretended sor¬ 
 cerers or magicians attempting their incantations against the 
 truth.—(E b.) 
 
 palaces, that ye may tell it to the generations fol¬ 
 lowing.’ Ps. xiviii. 12, 13. 
 
 [The form and measure of the city.'] 
 
 Ver. 16. ‘And the city lieth four square, and 
 the length is as large as the breadth: and he 
 measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand 
 furlongs, the length, and the breadth, and height 
 of it are equal.’ 
 
 * And the city lieth four square.* These w r ords 
 do open unto you the matter yet more, to wit, 
 that now both the city, gates, and wall were ex¬ 
 actly in their visibility according to the Word, 
 lying even every way with that golden reed: for 
 by four square you are to understand perfection, 
 or an answering the figures that of old did figure 
 to us the completeness and perfection of the New 
 Testament order. 
 
 For if you search the Scriptures, you will find 
 that especially the great and principal instruments 
 of God’s worship in and under the law, their per¬ 
 fection was what here you read to be the perfection 
 of this city, even a four square. As for instance. 
 The breastplate of judgment, on which were en¬ 
 graved the names of the children of Israel, its 
 exact point of perfection was to be a right four 
 square. The ten bases also, that were to be for 
 bearers to the lavers in the temple, they were to 
 be four square: the altar of burnt-offerings like¬ 
 wise, with the altar of incense, their perfect pattern 
 was that they should be four square. The inward 
 court, and outward court, with the posts of the 
 temple, and tables on which they were to slay the 
 sacrifices, they were all four square. Yea, the 
 city in the type, in the vision of Ezekiel, was seen 
 to be of the same frame and fashion every way, 
 having just twelve gates, and on each of the four 
 sides three gates. Wherefore, when he saith the 
 city lieth four square, it is as if he had said she 
 lieth even with the pattern or golden reed of the 
 Word; even, I say, both in her members, doctrine, 
 worship, and manners: for the things afore hinted 
 unto you do hold forth all these particulars. Ex. 
 
 xxviii. 15, 16 ; xxxix. 8, 9 ; xxvii. 1; xxxviii. 1 ; xxxvii. 1. 1 Ki. vii. 
 27, 28. Eze. xliii. 13—18; xl. ; xli. 21; xiviii. 30—34. 
 
 ‘ And the length is as large as the breadth.’ 
 This explaineth the matter yet more fully and 
 distinctly; for as to the things that I made men¬ 
 tion of before, though they were to be made four 
 square, and that tlieir perfection lay exactly in 
 that form, yet these squares did not lie in their 
 height and depth, but in their length and breadth, 
 just as you read here of the square of this city. 
 As to instance: The altars, though they were five 
 cubits long, and five cubits broad, yet but three 
 high. Ex. xxvii. i ; xxxiii. l. i Ki. vii. So the bases, they 
 were a cubit and an half broad, and a cubit and 
 I an half long, yet but half a cubit high ; the tables 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 423 
 
 also on wliich they slew the sacrifices, they w^ere 
 a cubit and a half long, and a cubit and a half 
 broad, yet but one cubit high. Eze. xL 42 . Which 
 things being thus, you see the reason of his say¬ 
 ing * the length is a3 large as the breadth.’ 
 
 Now by length and breadth here, we may yet 
 observe another mystery held forth unto us; for 
 by the breadth is held forth the perfection of 
 the rule, or law to which all Christians ought to 
 yield their hearty obedience: his commandment is 
 exceeding broad. Ps. cxix. 96. The breadth of which 
 By breadth is to is signified, I say, by the breadth of 
 
 the perfectioiiof ,ll0se tbin g s ttat before you see to 
 the W ont, and by be the instruments of the worship of 
 
 length the com- n , 1 
 
 pieteness of the bod. INow, as by breadth we are 
 
 samts obedience. understand the perfect latitude 
 and compass of the commandment; so by length 
 w r e are to understand the answerableness of the 
 obedience of the inhabitants of this city; for indeed 
 the perfection of Christian obedience lieth in an 
 answerableness to the will of God; as it is said of 
 the father and mother of John the Baptist, they 
 walked in all the commandments of the Lord 
 blameless. Lu. i. 6. And of Anna, that she con¬ 
 tinued without ceasing in the service of God in the 
 temple day and night. Lu. ii. 37 . This is to be as 
 long in our obedience, as the law is broad in com¬ 
 manding. The law commands right obedience,, and 
 the Christian giveth it; the law commands continual 
 obedience, and the Christian giveth it; the law com¬ 
 mands universal obedience, and the Christian giveth 
 it. He giveth it all these sorts of obedience, 1. By 
 the person of Christ, for he is his righteousness. 
 
 1 Co. i. 30 . He giveth it all these, 2. With the con¬ 
 sent of the mind. Ro. vii. 16. And 3. He giveth it 
 all these obediences in the love of the Spirit, which 
 the apostle calleth the fulfilling of the law, that is, 
 an answering the breadth of its command by the 
 length of obedience, lto. xiii. 10 . Wherefore when 
 he saith the length is as large as the breadth, he 
 would have us understand how perfect in holiness 
 these blessed souls will be at this day; and indeed, 
 this is it that is by God expected to be in this city 
 at this day. As the angel with his measuring¬ 
 line said to Zechariah, I am going * to measure 
 Jerusalem, to see what is the breadth thereof, and 
 what is the length thereof.’ Zee. ii. 2 . To see 
 whether their doctrine be pure, and whether their 
 obedience be answerable. 
 
 ‘ And he measured the city with the reed, twelve 
 a second mea- thousand furlongs.’ These latter 
 w r ords do refer us to a distinct mea¬ 
 sure from that which w r ent before; the former 
 measure pointing at the breadth of her command¬ 
 ment and the length of her obedience, but this at 
 the glory and fulness of her mansions and por¬ 
 tions ; for alter he had said the city lieth four¬ 
 square, and that the length is as large as the 
 
 breadth, which is the full and complete effect of 
 that first measure, he comes over again with an¬ 
 other measuring, saying, ‘ And he measured the 
 city, - twelve thousand furlongs;’ as who should 
 say, he measured the city, gates and wall first, and 
 found them all exact, and according to the golden 
 reed; and after he had so done, he measured the 
 city with the reed twelve thousand furlongs. 
 
 * He measured the city with the reed;’ that is, 
 he measured out to the city, he mea- . 
 
 y 7 A portion mea¬ 
 
 sured for the city, for its lot and sured out for 
 
 portion, twelve thousand furlongs. 116 Clty ‘ 
 Which very thing you find in the vision of the 
 prophet Ezekiel; for after he had measured the 
 city, the vessels, w r ith the instruments of worship, 
 I say, when he had done this, he comes again 
 with an afterwards, to measure the city, her por¬ 
 tions and mansions. Eze. xivii. 1 , &c. Wherefore I 
 say, these words do refer to her portion that she 
 is to enjoy of her God, as the former referreth to 
 her duty and obedience. 
 
 Now that which maketh me conclude that this 
 latter measure is a measure distinct from the for¬ 
 mer, and that it relateth neither to the exactness 
 of rule, nor the completeness of obedience, but only 
 to the largeness of the portions that God will allot 
 for thy sons and daughters, thou city of God; it is, 
 
 First, Because this is the biggest measure. For 
 I find, by considering the Scripture, that as the 
 persons and things pertaining to the worship of 
 God were to go according to the rule of this golden 
 reed, so also the portions that pertained to the 
 persons worshipping were to go by rule and mea¬ 
 sure also, as here he saith he measured also the 
 city, or to it, with the reed, twelve thousand fur¬ 
 longs. And hence it is that our grace is called 
 the measure of grace, and that our glory is called 
 a weight of glory. Ro. xii. 3. Ep. iv. 7. 2 Co. iv. 17. 
 
 Now I say, I find that our portions do go always 
 under the biggest measure; the spoons, cups, 
 flagons, snuffers, basons, candlesticks, and pans, 
 which were the instruments of worship, were not 
 so large as the chambers in the temple, and the 
 compass of the holy land, which were the mansions 
 and [the] portions of the church. See Jos. xv.—xvi. 
 Jn. xiv. 1—3. 
 
 Secondly, I take the twelve thousand furlongs to 
 signify portions, rather than worship or worship¬ 
 pers; because, as to the nature of it, it most 
 exactly agrees with the portions that are measured 
 out to this city by the angel before Ezekiel, which 
 is a measuring forth so much land for the portion 
 of the prince, so much for the portion of the priest, 
 and so much for the portion of the twelve tribes. 
 Yea, the very phrase, twelve thousand furlongs, 
 also implieth such a compass of ground, by which 
 we find the holy land hath been measured. Eze. xiv. 
 xlvi. xivii. Lu. xxiv. 13. Jo. y ; ^ 
 
424 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 t 
 
 3 
 
 » rti 
 
 • « 
 
 Lastly, I take it to be this also; because I find 
 not in all this description of this holy city that 
 any place doth give us that ground to speak to 
 her measure of portion as this; and it would seem 
 strange to me that the description of this city 
 given by Ezekiel should be more complete than 
 this that is given by our prophet John ; for Eze¬ 
 kiel doth most amply set forth her portions, even 
 distinctly, for prince, priest, and the tribes in par¬ 
 ticular. This therefore is to be understood of the 
 portions of the city which John did see were mea¬ 
 sured out unto her immediately after he saw the 
 breadth of her rule and the length of her obe¬ 
 dience. Only consider that Ezekiel measureth by 
 reeds, not counting by furlongs ; but John, though 
 he measureth by reeds, yet counteth by furlongs. 
 But now, though the Holy Ghost is thus pleased 
 to speak of the portions of the saints in the New 
 Jerusalem, as if he intended chiefly that their 
 portion should consist in outward happiness, and 
 in the enjoyment of such and such a portion or 
 compass of ground: yet consider that these are 
 but metaphorical and borrowed expressions, spoken 
 to our capacities, under which is indeed included 
 the nature of our blessed and spiritual food and 
 nourishment. You know it is usual for the Holy 
 Ghost in Scripture to call the saints sheep, lambs, 
 heifers, cows, rams, doves, swallows, pelicans, and 
 the like; and also to call their food, their spiritual 
 and heavenly food, grass, provender, wheat, wine, 
 oil, grapes, apples, figs, nuts, and the like also; 
 all which are but shadowish and figurative expres¬ 
 sions, even as this of the measure of the twelve 
 
 thousand furlongs. Jn. x. 15, 16. Am. iv. 3. Je. xxxi. 18. Ca. 
 ii. 5. Eze. xxxiv. 14. Zee. x. 1. Is. xxx. 24. Mi. iv. 4. And ob¬ 
 serve it, that which John saith here is twelve 
 thousand furlongs, Ezekiel tells us it lieth on this 
 side and on that side of the bank of the river of 
 the water of life. Eze. xivii. 8,9 . Now I think there 
 is none so much void of understanding as to think 
 this water of life is anything else but the precious 
 grace of God, in and through the Lord Jesus. 
 Wherefore the ground or measure for portions, it 
 is nothing else but our spiritual and heavenly 
 food, even spiritual grace, and gifts, and com¬ 
 forts, that the holy ones of this city shall most 
 plentifully partake of and enjoy. And so in¬ 
 deed the prophet also saith, speaking of the 
 portions of the holy land for this city. ‘ The 
 increase thereof,’ saith he, ‘ shall be for food unto 
 them that serve the city, and they that serve the 
 city shall serve it out of all the twelve tribes of 
 Israel.’ Eze. xiviii. 18,13. Out of the twelve tribes, 
 that is, out of the twelve thousand furlongs, 
 which is the portion of the tribes. This is accord¬ 
 ing to the saying of the prophet David, ‘ He 
 maketli me to lie down in green pastures, he lead- 
 eth me beside the still waters.’ Ps. xxiii. 2 . And 
 
 again, ‘ For the Lamb which is in the midst of the 
 throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto 
 living fountains of waters.’ Re.vii. 17 . ‘For your 
 shame, ye shall have double; and for confusion, 
 they shall rejoice in their portion: therefore in 
 their land they shall possess the double; everlasting 
 joy shall be unto them.’ is. ixi. 7 . 
 
 Thus you see the measure of the city, gates, 
 and wall, and the effect of that; and thus you see 
 also the measure of the portion for the city, with 
 what it is: wherefore it remaineth that we see 
 what is to be the effect of that also. 
 
 ‘ And he measured the city with a reed, twelve 
 thousand furlongs, the length and the breadth and 
 the height of it are equal.’ Before he told us 
 that the length was as large as the breadth, which 
 I then told you did signify the nature of her rule 
 and the measure of her obedience. But now he 
 adds and saith, that both in length and breadth 
 and in height she is equal. Wherefore in that he 
 adds at last a squareness of height to her squareness 
 of length and breadth; and also in that he adds it 
 not before he had told us of the measure of her 
 portions, he would have us to understand that as 
 the rule in which this city shall walk shall be com¬ 
 plete, and as her obedience to that rule shall be 
 complete, so her enjoyment of God and his grace 
 at that day shall be proportionable also. She is 
 square in her rule, square in her obedience, and 
 square in her enjoyment of God and his goodness: 
 the length and the breadth and the height of it 
 are equal. Indeed the Scripture saith, that in 
 keeping his commandments there is great reward. 
 Ps. xix. 11 . And again, ‘ This man shall be blessed 
 in his deed. ’ Ja. l 25 . This slioweth unto us then 
 what glorious days these will be to the house and 
 city of God, even days in which saints shall see 
 the mind of God clearly, have hearts to do it com¬ 
 pletely, and have continually the answerable en¬ 
 joyment of God and spiritual happiness. Now will 
 his paths drop fatness with a witness! Ps. ixv. 11 . 
 And now will he meet ‘him that rejoiceth and 
 worketh righteousness, those that remember thee 
 in thy ways. ’ is. lxiv. 5 . And the length and the 
 breadth and the height of it are equal. Where¬ 
 fore the prophet in the vision of the measures of 
 the portions doth observe that there was a square¬ 
 ness in them, as well as in their ordinances and 
 obedience: and hence it is that he tells us that 
 every little chamber was one reed broad and one 
 reed long. Eze. xl. 7. And again, the oblation, that 
 is, the portion for the tribes, shall be five and 
 twenty thousand. Eze. xiviii. 20 . By five and twenty 
 thousand ye shall offer the holy oblation four 
 square, with the portion of the city. 
 
 Again, I 11 that he saith the length and the breadth, 
 and the height of it are equal, he showeth us how 
 fit this city at this day will be even for the king- 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 425 
 
 dom of heaven and glory. For observe, that as 
 the rule, obedience, and comforts of God, do make 
 this city a square city, both in height, and length, 
 and breadth; so the holiest of all, which was a 
 type of heaven, He. ix. 24., was of the same fashion 
 also. It was twenty cubits high, and twenty 
 cubits long, and twenty cubits broad: the length, 
 and the breadth, and the height of it were equal. 
 
 1 Ki. vi. 20 ; 2 Ch. iii. 8 ; Eze. xli. 4. 
 
 Wherefore, as now the will of God will be done, 
 according to the petition, ‘ on earth as it is in 
 heaven;’ Mat.vi. 10 ; so will this city be at this day fit 
 to enter into the holiest place; even as fit as one 
 four square is to shut into another. Here is a 
 four square city for a four square heaven; and the 
 length and the breadth of it are equal. Where¬ 
 fore it is upon this account that this city, at her 
 appearing, is said to be adorned and prepared as 
 a bride is for her husband, which we all know is 
 the most perfect and completest attire that is pos¬ 
 sible to be got. And therefore it is, again, that at 
 the coming of the Lord those that go in with him 
 to the marriage are said to be ready beforehand. 
 
 lie. xxi. 2; Mat. xxv. 10. 
 
 Verse 17. ‘And he measured the wall thereof, 
 an hundred and forty and four cubits.’ This 
 measure of the wall that here he maketh mention 
 
 of is also distinct from the former 
 
 A third measure. , , . . , . 
 
 measure, where he is said to measure 
 the city, gates, and wall; and it refers to such a 
 wall, or to such a part of the wall in such a place. 
 For I find that though the wall of this city in 
 general is that which shall encompass the New 
 Jerusalem round, yet this wall is in some place, 
 and for some reason, of another manner and mea¬ 
 sure than the wall is in general, as it compasseth 
 round the city, which part of the wall is called the 
 broad wall, the wall upon which even half of the 
 people might walk complete at once. Ne. iii. 8; xii. 38. 
 
 But to trace out the business in the type, and 
 so to come to its answer in the antitype; I find 
 that a little distance from Jerusalem there was a 
 place called Tophet, which place was counted pro¬ 
 fane, unholy, or defiled. 2 Ki. xxiii. 10. I find also 
 that this unclean, unholy place, was a figure of 
 hell itself, is. xxx. 33. Now mark, I find by the 
 Scripture that against this Tophet, this unholy 
 a broad wall and profane place, was the broad wall 
 to U1 k^ep° lJ the the city for the defence of the sanc- 
 sanctuary. tuary erected, and reared up. He 
 measured, saith the prophet, by the four sides, 
 and it had a wall round about, five hundred reeds 
 long, and five hundred reeds broad, ‘ To make a 
 
 SEPARATION BETWEEN TIIE SANCTUARY AND THE 
 PROFANE PLACE.’ Eze. xlii. 20. Which Wall COuld 110t 
 be that wall which compasseth the city, because it 
 was but five hundred reeds long: for take the 
 measure of this wall in its largest measure, and it 
 
 VOL. ill. 
 
 is, if you count a reed for that which we count a 
 pole, but twelve furlongs, which compass will 
 scarce go round many market towns; especially 
 if, together with this, you consider the breadth of 
 the wall, whose breadth is as large as its length; 
 wherefore now there is not room enough for a city 
 so big as a cottage to stand in the midst thereof. 
 I speak this, to show you that the wall in this 
 place is not the wall that goetli round about the 
 city, but the wall that is placed just between the 
 sanctuary and Tophet, or hell itself. Now though 
 Ezekiel and John do differ touching their count 
 about the thickness of this wall, it is not so much 
 to signify the walls are not one and the same, as 
 to show us that the one, to wit, Ezekiel’s wall, 
 was to encompass a worldly sanctuary, but John’s 
 to encompass a spiritual and heavenly; wherefore 
 Ezekiel’s must be of so many reeds long to go 
 round about the material sanctuary, as a type; 
 but John comes more to the spirit of the matter, 
 and showeth us what the sanctuary, wall, and the 
 like should mean; for by sanctuary we are to 
 understand, even in the Old Testament, a place of 
 safety and security, which was a type of Christ. 
 Eze. xi. 16; He. vi. 18. Now in that Tophet did stand 
 against the sanctuary in the letter, it signifies that 
 hell itself is bent against all those that take shelter 
 in Christ; but to no purpose, for in the very face 
 of Tophet, even between it and our place of sanc¬ 
 tuary, is fixed an invincible and impregnable 
 mighty wall, to keep in safety those that have fled 
 to Christ for shelter. Now I say, in that John tells 
 us this wall is an hundred and forty- 
 
 ... J Whv tills wall 
 
 four cubits, and waives the manner is'said to be 
 of the measure of Ezekiel, it is to 144cublts - 
 show us that this wall is for the safety of the 
 hundred and forty-four thousand that have taken 
 sanctuary in Christ, that is, all the holy and truly 
 gracious souls that are with him on the Mount 
 Zion, having his Father’s name written in their 
 foreheads, Re. vii ; xiv. l— 3. Both numbers, I say, 
 being twelve times twelve, implying a sufficient 
 safety for all that are sincerely and truly gra¬ 
 cious. 
 
 And now to bring down the matter to our New 
 Jerusalem state: for though it be true in all ages, 
 that there is between those that have taken sanc¬ 
 tuary in Christ, and the bottomless pit, an invin¬ 
 cible and mighty wall of grace and heavenly 
 power, and of the merits of Christ, to save to the 
 uttermost all and every one that are thus fled 
 to him for safety, He. vii. 25 ,26, yet there is some¬ 
 thing in it more than this, for those that come 
 into the days and state of the New Jerusalem. 
 For, I say, this wall being it that makes a sepa¬ 
 ration between the sanctuary and the profane 
 place in general, and yet being spoken of as a 
 thing extraordinary, and accompanying the state 
 
 54 
 
426 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 of this new city only, it implieth that at this day 
 The profit of the the saints shall have that shelter by 
 broad wall, this wall from all the force of hell, 
 and the damned spirits that now from Tophet afflict 
 them, that they never had before. And therefore 
 you find at the beginning of the thousand years, 
 which, as I conceive, is the time of the building 
 of this city, a mighty angel is said to come down 
 from heaven to lay hold of the dragon, that old 
 serpent, called the devil and Satan, and to bind 
 him a thousand years; which done, he casts him 
 into the bottomless pit, and there shuts him up, 
 to the end he should deceive the nations no more. 
 
 Re. xx. 1 —3. The effect of which will be not only a 
 delivering of the saints from outward 
 
 deceive™per- persecution, but also from being any 
 
 seeiitor, and a more aS sailed with either wicked and 
 tempter to 
 
 blasphemy and erroneous doctrine, or fierce and fiery 
 darts from the prince of darkness, 
 which now many of them are so much annoyed 
 and afflicted with; now the church will be free 
 from those hellish suggestions to blaspheme, to 
 despair, and the like, that her members do yet 
 most dreadfully and sadly meet with. For observe, 
 this old tempter is said to be tied up, or to be cast 
 into the bottomless pit, first as he is a dragon, 
 under which name he goeth in this book, in his 
 persecuting the church. Rev. xii. Secondly, he is 
 said to be shut up, as he goeth under the name 
 of a serpent, under which name he went when he 
 fomented his devilish and damning seducing doc¬ 
 trine to our first parents; the which the Spirit 
 expressly seems to relate unto, and therefore calls 
 him that old serpent; that old serpent that de¬ 
 ceived us at the first. Ge. iii. 1—5. Thirdly, he is 
 said to be shut up also, as he goeth under the 
 name of the devil, and Satan, under which name 
 lie goeth commonly in the New Testament, when 
 he provoketh and stirreth up our lusts, and when 
 he labours to drive us into all manner of unbelief, 
 distrust, despair, and so consequently into mur- 
 murings and blasphemy against God. Mat. iv. l, 5, 8; 
 Lu. iv. 2-6 ; Ac. v. 1-3 ; Ep. vi. 11 ; 2 Cor. ii. 7,11. Wherefore, 
 I say, that at the day that this wall is set up in 
 all its glory, and when it performs every part and 
 piece of its office to the full, then shall Satan be 
 bruised under our feet indeed, and then shall 
 Jerusalem be called the joyous city, and her 
 people a joy; for her former sorrows shall be past 
 and forgot. Ro. xvi. 20; Re. xxi. 4. 
 
 If thou still objectest: But I have yet an evil 
 heart, and therefore if I be not rid of that at that 
 day, should I live till then, why though 
 there should be no devil to afflict me, 
 I shall feel and meet, with sorrow and trouble 
 enough. I answer thee: First, I dare 
 not say that at this day thou shalt 
 be in every sense without thy evil heart in the 
 
 Objection. 
 
 Answer. 
 
 midst of all this glory, tempted soul. Yet I say 
 thus much to thee— 
 
 First. Where there is no devil to tempt, though 
 the saints will yet be imperfect, and The benefit of 
 
 i ./» . having Satan thus 
 
 come short ot a glorified state, yet bound and tied 
 they, by his absence, will be delivered u p- 
 from many dreadful, vexing, and burning, and hellish 
 darts, that will otherwise confound and afflict the 
 soul like arrows whose heads are poisoned. Chris¬ 
 tians have a great deal of ease, when God doth, 
 even at this day, withhold the devil for a season, 
 though yet they have their own lusts, over they 
 have when the devil and their own lusts are suffered 
 to meet and work together. Yea, the Lord Jesus 
 himself, who had no sin, yet in the temptation was 
 fearfully handled and afflicted with the devil, though 
 all the while, I say, he kept him at staves end, 1 and 
 did not suffer him in the least to annoy his person; 
 and therefore it is said that when he was in the 
 wilderness, in the conflict, the angels came to 
 minister to him. Mar. i. 12 , 13 . Col. ii. 14 , 15 . At the 
 time of his agony also—in which agony, doubtless, 
 Satan had a great hand to afflict him—you see his 
 complaint, how that he was sore amazed, and 
 exceeding sorrowful, even unto death, being so 
 laden with heaviness and sorrow that he was 
 scarce able to stand or wag under the burden of 
 it. Lu. xxiii. 44. Mar. xiv. 33 , 34 . Satan, even from him¬ 
 self, besides the workings of our own lust, doth do 
 us wonderful injury, and hits our souls with many 
 a fiery dart that we think comes either from our¬ 
 selves, or from heaven, and God himself; but now 
 by this wall, this broad wall, this sorrow will be 
 cut off. 
 
 Secondly. Again, when Satan is thus tied up, 
 
 we shall, together with this mercy, receive such a 
 
 plentiful pouring forth of the Holy Ghost, that 
 
 though there will remain in us still Corruplions shai \ 
 
 remainders of our corruptions, yet, now also be great- 
 1 l ii* iy weakened. 
 
 by the plentiful indwelling ot the 
 Holy Ghost, and the joy and peace and heavenly 
 sweetness thereof, these things shall lie like lean, 
 withered, blasted things. The reason of that power 
 and that strength, that our lusts have to this day 
 in our hearts, it is because they are so lean, and 
 thin, and weak in the things of God. Strong grace 
 makes corruptions weak, and strikes them thorough, 
 laying them at the point of death, always gasping 
 for life. Thus it was with Moses, lie had such grace 
 in his soul, and such communion with God, that 
 though he had yet a body of sin within him, it 
 was a rare thing for him to see his wretchedness; 
 Nu. xi. 14 ,15; that is, to see it pert, lively, and 
 powerful in him. Indeed God saith, that upon 
 the land of his people shall come up briars and 
 
 1 This is an allusion to the ancient English pastime of 
 combat, called quarterstaff.—(E d.) 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 427 
 
 thorns; ‘ yea, upon all the houses of joy in the 
 joyous city; because the palaces shall be forsaken, 
 the multitude of the city shall be left, the forts 
 and towers shall be for dens for ever, a joy of wild 
 asses, a pasture of flocks; until the Spirit be 
 poured upon us from on high, and the wilderness 
 be a fruitful field,’ &c. 1$. xxxii. 13 - 15 . And then 
 ‘ the Lord shall defend the inhabitants of Jerusa¬ 
 lem, and he that is feeble among them at that day 
 shall be as David, and the house of David shall be 
 as God, as the angel of the Lord before them.’ 
 Zee. xii. 8 . * The inhabitant shall not say, I am 
 
 sick; the people that dwell therein shall be forgiven 
 their iniquity.’ is. xxxm. 24 . 
 
 ‘ And he measured the wall thereof, an hundred 
 and forty and four cubits, according to the measure 
 of a man, that is, of the angel. ’ ‘ According to 
 
 the measure of a man.’ The man Christ Jesus. 
 For the measure of this city, or the golden reed 
 with which this city is thus measured, it is his, 
 his word and law of the New Testament. All 
 judgment is committed into the hand of the Son; 
 and God ‘ hath given him authority to execute 
 judgment also, because he is the Son of man.’ 
 
 Jn. v. 27; xii. 48. 
 
 ‘ According to the measure of a man, that is, of 
 the angel.’ This angel is one of the seven that 
 had the seven last plagues to execute upon the 
 man of sin, Re. xxi. 9, and yet he saith the measure 
 is according to the measure of a man; the meaning 
 is that the city, the New Jerusalem, is to be built 
 according to the word of Christ; but yet by his 
 word as it is in the hand of his angels, that is, his 
 messengers and servants; of which servants, the 
 chief will be those that are his instruments to pour 
 forth the seven vials full of the seven last plagues 
 upon the Antichristian harlot. For they, with 
 their plagues, will both destroy what standeth in 
 implacable opposition, and will subject the rest, 
 and bring them into a correspondency with the 
 word and will of God, as I have showed. Whence 
 note, that they of his servants that God shall use 
 to pour forth his last and most dreadful plagues 
 upon the whore, they are they that God will use 
 to show us the pattern of this holy city. Or thus, 
 they that can tell how to plague the whore, they 
 can tell how to measure this city. ‘ The righteous 
 men, they shall judge them,’ that is, the Anti¬ 
 christian harlot, with her wicked and adulterous 
 daughters, ‘ after the manner of adulteresses, and 
 after the manner of women that shed blood; be¬ 
 cause they are adulteresses, and blood is in their 
 
 hands.’ Eze. xxiiL 45. 
 
 Thus much touching the frame of this city, its 
 Avails, gates, and foundations, with the measure of 
 each. And now it remains that I speak of the 
 glory of them. 
 
 [THIRD. A RELATION OF TOE GLORY OF TIIE 
 
 CITY, ITS WALLS, GATES, AND FOUNDATIONS.] 
 
 Ver. 18. ‘And the building of the wall of it 
 was of jasper; and the city was pure gold, like 
 unto clear glass.’ 
 
 [ The glory of the walls. ] 
 
 In these Avords you have a discovery of the 
 glory, both of the Avail and city itself; The glory of the 
 and that, as you see, under the notion ' valls - 
 of two choice metaphors. The wall is jasper, the 
 chief of stones; and the city is gold, the chief of 
 metals. ‘ And the building of the Avail of it vvas 
 of jasper, and the city vvas pure gold.’ 
 
 This jasper is that stone, in the light of Avhich 
 this city is said to descend, as in the light of a 
 stone most precious. Now, as there he saith she 
 descended in the light of this stone, so here he 
 saith this stone is the wall thereof. ‘ And the 
 building of the wall of it A\ r as of jasper.’ 
 
 This therefore confirmetli unto you what I said 
 of the Avail before, to wit, that it was the salvation 
 of God through Christ; Avherefore, learn this by 
 the Avay, that this city shall not be at this day in 
 her own keeping, but in the keeping of Jesus Christ. 
 He with his benefits doth compass her round, and 
 by him alone she lieth down in safety. Where¬ 
 fore it is from this consideration that God doth say 
 by the mouth of the prophet, I will give them 
 Avithin my house, and Avithin my Avails, ‘ a place and 
 a name better than that of sons and of daughters ; 
 I Avill give them an everlasting name that shall not 
 be cut off.’ is. ivi. 5. 
 
 ‘And the building of the wall,’ &c. By this 
 Avord building, Ave are to understand both the 
 materials of the wall, the manner of their placing, 
 and the instruments that God av ill use for the set¬ 
 ting up thereof. Now, to speak properly, this 
 Avail being the Lord Jesus Christ himself in his 
 precious merits, benefits, and offices, the builder 
 hereof must needs be God himself, for he it is that 
 hath made this Christ for us a safeguard and 
 defence, by making of him our Avisdom, righteous¬ 
 ness, sanctification, and redemption, by which lie 
 doth encompass us round on every side, and that 
 at every moment to deliver us from the poAver and 
 destruction both of sin, death, the devil, and liell. 
 
 1 Cor. i. 30. He. xi. 10; iii. 4. 
 
 But again, the building here spoken of is a 
 buildino; of this Avail after the destruction of Anti- 
 clirist, and so long after Christ Avas sent, and made 
 these things in his oavh person, to his beloved and 
 blessed church. Wherefore the build- xhe building of 
 ing of this Avail that is here spoken of, tlie wali * 
 it must be understood of the recovering again the 
 purity of those doctrines, in Avhich the Lord Jesus, 
 with all his benefits, is found and made ours, for 
 
428 
 
 THE HOLY CITY. OH 
 
 A 
 
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 IS) 
 
 ** f ! 
 
 
 r 
 
 im 
 
 4 
 
 uji 
 
 •Ttf 
 
 t 
 
 * 
 
 M 
 
 l rtl 
 
 * i 
 
 our everlasting defence and safety. For we find 
 that the king of Babylon, who was a type of our 
 Antichrist, when he came up against Jerusalem, 
 the type of our primitive church, he brake down 
 their city, destroyed their walls, rifled their houses, 
 ,and killed their children; whose steps, I say, our 
 Antichrist follows to a hair, in treading down the 
 primitive church, corrupting her doctrines—which 
 .are her safeguard and wall—also robbing and 
 spoiling the houses of God, and killing his chil¬ 
 dren with a thousand calamities; turning all the 
 heavenly frame and order of church government 
 into a heap of rubbish, and a confused dunghill. 
 
 Ps. lxxiv. 4—7. 
 
 Wherefore the building again of this wall is to 
 be understood of the recovering, and settling, and 
 fastening the doctrines of Christ, as afore, in 
 which doctrines he in all his benefits is wrapped 
 and held fast for ever. I say, a recovering of 
 them, and setting him up again in his primitive 
 and pure glory, of being our priest, prophet, and 
 king in his church, and a giving unto these offices 
 their own proper length, breadth, height, and 
 depth, letting them rule in all their force, glory, 
 and majesty, and authority, for then will be golden 
 days, and not till then; then, I say, when the 
 several offices of the Lord Jesus do rule in their 
 own nature and largeness of authority, both in the 
 church and in the world. Zee. ix. 7 , s ; xiv. y. Re. xi. 15 . 
 
 Alas! this wall is yet unbuilt, the offices of the 
 Lord Jesus do not yet shine in that purity, nor so 
 stand in their proper places as they shall do at the 
 coming in of New Jerusalem. The wall lies yet 
 but as a heap of rubbish; the offices of the Lord 
 Christ are to this day by many preachers con¬ 
 founded, and removed to and fro, even like loose 
 and rolling stones. These offices, also, are by others 
 attributed to Antichrist, and his children of iniquity; 
 but at this day the nations shall know themselves 
 to be but men, and the doctrines of Christ shall be 
 set again in their own places. Eze.xxvui. 2 , 3 . 2 Tk. ii. 4 . 
 Now shall every going into this city, and every 
 
 The names and S° iu g 0Ut tLereof > Stal,d where U 
 attributes of tke ought ; and now shall every tower 
 Eather and Son, , „ , .. ,, . 0 , , 
 
 tke towers of this and fortress on this wall be placed 
 
 wuU * as in the days of old; which towers 
 
 and fortresses are the glorious names and attributes 
 of the Father and Christ; for the name of the Lord 
 is a strong tower, the righteous flee into it, and 
 are safe. And again, thou hast been a shelter 
 to me, and a strong tower from the enemy. Where¬ 
 fore now, I say, shall the name of God, as Lord 
 of all, and Father of his church, with the names of 
 the Son, as Head, Saviour, and King of kings, be 
 as the bulwarks to this city, Ca. i. 10 . to which shall 
 be added all the promises, consolations, encourage¬ 
 ments, &c\, in the blessed book of God, out of 
 which this city continually shall suck the milk and 
 
 nourishment of the unsearchable grace of God to 
 
 them. 1 Pe. ii. 1 , 2 . To all which shall be added 
 many new pieces of timber in the wall, for so it 
 was in the type at the rebuilding of the city. Ne.ii.8. 
 By which new pieces I gather, that the special 
 providence of God, and his protection, shall be at 
 this day so fastened in this wall for the complete 
 delivering of this city, both from hell and earth, 
 that she shall stand in full force, safety, and peace, 
 even till the heavens and the earth shall be no 
 more. Now, when this wall is thus set up, even 
 every truth and office of Christ in its own true 
 natural force, about this city, and when God, in 
 his special and most endeared affections, shall 
 engage himself, even everlastingly, to keep this 
 city safe from all storms and tempests, and trouble, 
 and sorrow, then shall these citizens, as a sign of 
 their conquest both of hell and the world, even set 
 up their banners on the several towers of this wall, 
 and the standards that belong to the tribes thereof; 
 
 then, I say, * we will rejoice in thy salvation,’ 0 
 Lord, * and in the name of our God will we set up 
 our banners.’ Ps. xx. 5. And then The saints shall 
 shall the inhabitants of the world ners UP on^these 
 both wondering and tremblingly say, tovvers - 
 
 ‘ Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, 
 fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as 
 an army with banners?’ Ca. vi. 10 . 0 the names of 
 
 God, of Christ, of his offices, and the power of his 
 grace and promises! How will they shine? In 
 what glory will they appear? They will be even as 
 a wall of fire round about Jerusalem; and will not 
 be, as now, in the mind and thought of the people a3 
 the white of an egg in the mouth, without taste; 
 but shall be, and appear in their own brightness, 
 sweetness, and grace. ‘For how great is his 
 goodness, and how great is his beauty ? corn shall 
 make the young men cheerful, and new wine the 
 maids.’ Zee.ix. 10. ‘In that day thou shalt say, 0 
 Lord, I will praise thee; though thou wast angry 
 with me, thine anger is turned away, and thou 
 eomfortest me. Behold, God is my salvation; I 
 will trust and not be afraid; for the Lord Jehovah 
 is my strength, and my song, he also is become 
 my salvation.’ Is. xii. l, 2. 
 
 For the workman, I am sure, God is the prin¬ 
 cipal, as I said before; but yet he will do it by 
 instruments, through the guidance of his Spirit. 
 The building of the wall of old was of God; but 
 so as that he did it by the hand of Nehemiah and 
 his companions. I do observe, in the completing 
 of the city of Jerusalem of old, that there was first 
 altar-work, then temple-work, and after that the 
 building of the wall and completing the city. 
 Altar-work, I say, was the first which Altar . work> tem . 
 was reared, and on which there were pie-work, und 
 offered, according to the law and holy 
 custom, the sacrifices and offerings both morning and 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 429 
 
 evening, as every day required. * But the foundation 
 of the temple of the Lord was not yet laid.' Ezr. ul 
 l—c. These altar-men were those also that after¬ 
 
 ward built the temple; but yet by them was first 
 of all repaired the altar, to signify that the first 
 What altar- work that will bo on foot at the begin- 
 workis. ning of the return of the Christians from 
 out of Antichristian Babylon, it will be to find out 
 altar-work, that is, the priestly office of Christ, 
 and to offer by him the prayers and supplications 
 of the church continually. Ac.xix. 9. Wherefore 
 these altar-men, or these men in their altar-work, 
 did figure out for us our famous and holy worthies, 
 that before us have risen up in their place, and 
 shook off those relics of Antichrist that intrenched 
 upon the priestly office of our Lord and Saviour, 
 even worthy Wickliff, IIuss, Luther, Melancthon, 
 Calvin, and the blessed martyrs in Queen Mary’s 
 days, &c., with the rest of their companions. 
 These, in their days, were stout and valiant cham¬ 
 pions for God according to their light, and did 
 upon the altar of God, which is Christ our Lord, 
 offer up many strong cries, with groans and tears, 
 as every day required, for the complete recovering 
 of the church of God ; the benefit of whose offering 
 we have felt and enjoyed to this day; but by this 
 the foundation of the temple was not yet laid. 
 
 Ezr. iii. 6. 
 
 Now after these arise another people, not an¬ 
 other with respect to Christianity, but with respect 
 to further light. 1 These men, though they keep 
 the continual offerings upon the altar, as the other 
 did, yet they are men also that are for temple- 
 work ; wherefore these begin to search out the 
 foundations of the temple of God, that they may 
 rear up the house, as well as build up the altar. 
 These be they that are for having the church a 
 select company of visible believers, walking in the 
 faith and holiness of the gospel, which believers 
 are for separating from the unconverted and open 
 profane, and for building up one another an holy 
 temple in the Lord, through the Spirit. 1 Co. xii. 13 . 
 
 1 say, a temple, or house, or church, separate and 
 k distinct from that confused heap of rubbish and 
 
 carnal gospellers that everywhere, like locusts and 
 maggots, crawl up and down the nations, ito. i. 7 . 
 
 2 Co. vi. 14-16. Ac. ii. 40. Ep. it 21, 22. 1 Co. v. 11-13. These 
 were figured forth by Zerubbabel, Joshua, and all 
 
 1 Bunyau most accurately traces the pedigree of God’s 
 fearers, who, at the expense of life, maintained the spirituality 
 of Divine worship. He commences with our early Reformers, 
 Wickliff and Huss, to the later oues who suffered under Mary; 
 continues the line of descent through the Puritans to Bunyan’s 
 brethren, the Nonconformists. All these were bitterly perse¬ 
 cuted by the two lions—Church and State. The carual gos¬ 
 pellers, that confused heap of rubbish that crawled up and 
 down the nation like locusts and maggots, refers to the mem¬ 
 bers of a hierarchy which were ready to go from Popery to 
 Protestantism, and back again to Popery, or to any other sys¬ 
 tem, at the bidding of an Act of Parliament.— (Pd.) 
 
 the people of the land that are for working and 
 labouring in this service of temple-work. Hag. i. 12 ; 
 ii. 1 - 5 . 
 
 Again, As there is thus altar-work and temple- 
 work to be done by the saints when they are coming 
 out of spiritual Sodom and Egypt; so, at the end 
 of these, there will be city-work on foot also. 
 Which city-work will chiefly consist in setting up 
 the wall and gates for defence, and of building 
 themselves houses or mansions of rest and refresh¬ 
 ment after all their hard usage under the tyranny 
 of the man of sin, that son of perdition, is. lxv. 19 - 21 . 
 Which city-work will be then completed, when the 
 church of Christ hath obtained a complete conquest 
 and victory over the world, and hath got her ene¬ 
 mies and them that hate her, to lie at her feet, and 
 to lick the dust of the soles thereof. Is. lx. 14 . For, 
 as I have told you already, temple-work, yea, 
 when that is complete in the work, yet there may 
 be great havoc made of the church of Christ. 
 Re. xi. 1—3. At which time also, city-work may bo 
 trampled under the feet of the wicked and uncir¬ 
 cumcised Gentiles; but when the city is built, then 
 Zion is become a stronghold, and about all her 
 glory shall be a defence. Is. iv. 5 . Then she either 
 draweth and allureth her adversaries to entreat her 
 kindly, and to count it their honour to be under 
 her protection, as did the Gibeonites; or else she 
 breaks, and bruises, and subjects them to her by 
 her power and authority. Jos. ix. ‘ The daughter 
 of Tyre shall be there with a gift, even the rich 
 among the people shall entreat thy favour. ’ Ps. xlv. 12 . 
 ‘In the last days,’ saith the prophet, ‘it shall 
 come to pass, tliat the mountain of the house of the 
 Lord shall be established in the top of the moun¬ 
 tains, and it shall be exalted above the hills; and 
 people shall flow unto it. And many nations shall 
 come and say, - Let us go up unto the mountain 
 of the Lord, and to the house of the God of Jacob, 
 and he will teach us of his wavs, and we will walk 
 in his paths: for the law shall go forth of Zion, 
 and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem. And 
 he shall judge among many people, and rebuke 
 strong nations afar off; and they shall beat their 
 swords into plough-shares, and their spears into 
 pruning-hooks; ’ that force and power that they 
 used formerly to destroy the church of God, now 
 they shall use it to do her service, even to break 
 up the clods of the hearts of sinners, and to prune 
 and dress the house of God, and vineyard of Jesus 
 Christ; ‘ nation shall not lift up a sword against 
 nation, neither shall they learn war anymore;’ fur 
 the word of the kingdom of peace shall bear sway. 
 
 ‘ And thou, 0 tower of the flock, the stronghold of 
 the daughter of Zion, unto thee shall it come, even 
 the first dominion; the kingdom shall come to the 
 daughter of Jerusalem.’ Mi. iv. 1—3,8. This is city- 
 work, and as to the glory, peace, and deliverance 
 
430 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
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 t 10 
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 ! H 
 
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 •■■in 
 
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 1 
 
 of the church, it is the chiefest of all other, because 
 it is not only most excellent for concourse and 
 multitude, but, I say, for preservation and safety; 
 and that not only to keep the worshippers, if they 
 keep their order, but to keep the order and wor¬ 
 shippers both in order and continual safety, that 
 they may be for ever in the purest order. But 
 now, though at the completing of this wall, and 
 the building its towers, when they are finished 
 there will be great peace; yet all the time that 
 these things are doing, before they be done, let the 
 workmen look for opposition, taunts, underminers, 
 and a thousand tricks for the liinderance of it. 
 Ne. iv. 3 —ii ; vi. 1-14. For the streets of the city shall 
 be built, and the wall, ‘ even in troublous times.’ 
 
 Da, ix. 25. 
 
 ‘And the building of the wall of it was of 
 jasper.’ Of jasper only; for as by building is 
 showed unto us the manner of the work, so by 
 jasper is showed unto us the matter itself; the 
 matter therefore must be, jasper, Christ only, his 
 Word, offices, and glorious brightness only; for 
 indeed, whatever the special grace, protection, and 
 providence of God will at this day be over this city, 
 yet it shall be every whit of it according to Christ; 
 that is, both of him, for him, and by him, as the 
 fruits and effects of his suffering, bloodshed, and 
 merits. * Therefore, ’ saitli God, ‘ will I divide 
 him a portion with the great, and he shall divide 
 the spoil with the strong; because he hath poured 
 out his soul unto death: and was numbered with 
 the transgressors.’ is. mi. 12 . 0 holiness, how will 
 
 it shine both in kings and nations, when God doth 
 this I 
 
 [ The glory of the city . ] 
 
 4 And the city was pure gold.’ Having thus 
 The glory Of the given us a discovery of the glory of the 
 cit y- wall, he now comes to show us the 
 glory of the city that is within the wall. The city, 
 saith he, is gold, it is pure gold. This was figured 
 out by the golden candlesticks belonging to the 
 tabernacle and temple among the Jews, which 
 candlesticks did then present unto us the worth 
 and use of the church of Christ. Ex. xxv, 31-36. * The 
 
 seven candlesticks are the seven churches,’ saith 
 the Lord Christ himself. Re. i. 20 . Now the city 
 here spoken of is the church in her highest and 
 greatest glory. Its state was also figured out by 
 the temple itself, whose beams, posts, walls, doors, 
 and the like, were most famously covered over with 
 gold. 2 Ch. iii. 5 - 7 . It was also, though but leanly, 
 represented to us by the golden state of old J eru- 
 salem in the days of Solomon the king, in which 
 state gold was so plentiful in the midst thereof, 
 that silver was nothing counted of among the 
 citizens therein those days, but was as common as 
 the stones in the street of the city. 2 cm ix. 13 — 22 , 27 . 
 
 * And the city was pure gold.’ I find by the 
 search of the Scriptures, that there are diver3 
 sorts of gold in the world ; there is the gold of the 
 land of Havilah, Ge. ii. 11 ; the gold of Parvaim, 
 
 2 Ch. iii. 6 ; the gold of Ophir, Job xxii. 24 ; tlie gold of 
 Sheba, Ps. lxxii. 15; and the gold of Uphaz. Je. x. 9; 
 Now seeing he saith the city is gold, yet not dis¬ 
 tinguishing what gold, or which, we may suppose 
 in this place he means gold of all these sorts; and 
 indeed it is most agreeable to this text thus to 
 judges. For the church at this day shall be made 
 up of the twelve tribes that are scattered abroad, 
 and of the Gentile nations both far and near; who, 
 as they now lie, are, for ought I can learn, at as 
 great a distance, and as remote from one another, 
 not only in knowledge and affections, but touching 
 the places of their abode, as are the golden mines 
 out of which the gold that I spake of before is 
 digged and fetched. Thus shall gold, the golden 
 saints of God, at this day be gathered out of the 
 several golden mines of the world, and be brought 
 to King Solomon, the Son of David, our Lord 
 Jesus, to Jerusalem, with which he will build him 
 a golden shining city, the joy of all the world. 
 
 ‘ And the city was pure gold.’ Gold is the 
 choice and chief of all metals, both for worth, 
 colour, and virtue; wherefore, when he saith, 
 
 ‘ The city is gold,’ you may conceive how rich and 
 shining, and virtuous 1 this city will be ; the riches 
 of the whole world will be here, the beauty of the 
 whole world will be here, and the virtue 1 of the 
 whole world will be here; I mean spiritual riches, 
 beauty, and health. Wherefore the rest of the 
 world at this day will be but as a crushed bunch 
 of herbs in which is no virtue; 1 or like a furnace 
 full of dross, out of which the gold is taken; or 
 like an old, crazy, and ruinous house, from which 
 is departed all health and happiness; and indeed 
 much like to this is that saying of the prophet, to 
 wit, that at this day the whole circumference of 
 the world that is without the walls and privileges 
 of this city, it shall be but like an old ruinous 
 house, in which dwells nothing but cormorants, 
 bitterns, owls, ravens, dragons, satyrs, the screech- 
 owl, the great owl, the vulture, and the like most 
 doleful birds. All their princes shall be nothing, 
 saith the prophet, and when they call their nobles 
 to the kingdom, none shall be there. In their very 
 palaces shall be thorns, and nettles, and brambles; 
 for all among them that are princes and nobles 
 indeed, will have packed up, and be gone for Jeru¬ 
 salem. is. xxxiv. 10 - 17 . So that the world, I say, will 
 be left empty, void, and stripped both of treasure, 
 beauty, and health, at the day of Jerusalem’s 
 building again. But 0 how melancholy a forlorn, 
 beautiless world will this be at this day! It will 
 
 * Virtue j* strength, efficacy, power.—(E d.) 
 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 431 
 
 be only the place of * dogs, and sorcerers, and 
 whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and 
 whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.’ Re. xxii. 15. It 
 will now be the very emblem of hell, as the church 
 at this day will be the emblem of heaven. Where¬ 
 fore, as the church, as I showed you before, will 
 be most fit for her putting on of immortality and 
 incorruption, so the world will at this day be most 
 fit to be swallowed up of the lake and bottomless 
 gulf. All things that are good and worth anything 
 shall at this day be found only in the city of God. 
 The gold -will be in Jerusalem. Zee. xiv. 14. Re. xvm. 
 
 Again, In that this city is here called by the 
 name of gold it is to show us how great pains, 
 and travel, and charge the Lord Christ hath been 
 at to get so great a treasure together. Gold is 
 fetched from a far country, and that with great 
 pains, charge, and difficulty. 2Ch. ix. 10. The gold 
 wherewith King Solomon made his drinking vessels, 
 it cost a three years’ journey to obtain it. So the 
 saints also, those golden vessels wherewith is made 
 this golden city, they cost Christ a three days’ 
 travel in the heart of the earth, even sweatingly 
 under the wrath of God, to obtain them, and thus 
 to build this city with them. Lu. xxii. 44. Mar. xii. 40. 
 
 Further, In that he saith this city is gold, he 
 would have us to consider what the state of the 
 church was before she came into this happy con¬ 
 dition, to wit, an afflicted, tempted, and tried con¬ 
 dition. Gold, as it comes from the mine, it cometh 
 commixed with its dust and ore; wherefore the 
 goldsmith hath a burning furnace wherein he hav¬ 
 ing put it, doth with the fire purge and take away 
 the dross and dust from among the metal itself; 
 into which furnace he puts it once, twice, thrice, 
 and again to the end it may at length be thoroughly 
 cleansed and purified from its dross. Now all this 
 befalleth the people of God; they are thrown into 
 the burning fiery furnace of affliction and tempta¬ 
 tion, and there they are tried, purged, and purified. 
 Is. xxxi. 9. As the Lord also saith by the prophet, 
 * I will try them as gold is tried, and will refine 
 them as silver is refined.’ Zee. xiii. 9. Yea, ‘ I will 
 melt them and try them, for how shall I do for the 
 daughter of my people.’ Je. ix. 7. 
 
 Lastly, When he saith this city is gold, he also 
 thereby insinuates how invincible and unconquer¬ 
 able a spirit the people of God are possessed with. 
 Gold is a metal so invincible and unconquerable, 
 that no fire can consume it; it may burn it indeed, 
 and melt it; the dross indeed doth consume and 
 give way to the power of the fire, but the gold re¬ 
 mains, and holds its ground; yea, it gets ground 
 even of the furnace and fire itself; for the more it 
 is burned and melted, the more it recovers its 
 colour, and the more it shakes off its dross and 
 dishonour. J ust thus it is with the people of God, 
 and hath been so even from the beginning: the 
 
 more they oppressed them, the more they grew. 
 Ex. i. 12. The truth of which will be proved with 
 a witness, when God comes to set up this city 
 Jerusalem: his church hath been now for many 
 hundred years in the king of Babylon’s furnace; 
 all which time she hath most gloriously endured 
 and withstood the heat; and at last when the fire 
 hath done its worst against her, behold there comes 
 out a city of gold. A type of Avhich was the state 
 of the three children, who though they were cast 
 into the fire bound and in disgrace; yet came out 
 in the liberty and grace of the Son of God. Da. iii- 
 23—26. Wherefore let her be bold to say, even 
 before she comes out of the fire, When I am tried, 
 ‘ I shall come forth as gold. ’ Job xxiii. 10. 
 
 ‘And the city was pure gold.’ These words, 
 pure gold, clear up what I said already. Pure 
 gold, or gold upon which the fire hath done its 
 work. The church in the fire of persecution is 
 like Esther in the perfuming chamber, but making 
 fit for the presence of the king; which fire, when 
 it hath done its work, then she comes into his 
 presence in clothing all of gold. Es. ii. 10 . ‘ The 
 
 king’s daughter is all glorious within, her clothing 
 is of wrought gold.’ And again, * At thy right 
 hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.’ Ps. xiv. 
 9,13. Wherefore he means by pure gold, gold out 
 of the fire, gold on which the fire of persecution 
 and temptation hath done its full and complete 
 work. 
 
 * And the city was pure gold, like unto clear 
 glass.’ By glass, in this place, we are to under¬ 
 stand the Word of God, as both James and Paul 
 do testify. Ja. i. 22—25. 2 Co. iii. 18. l Co. xiii. 12. By clear 
 glass then, we are to understand the Word in its 
 own nature and purity, without the corruptions 
 and traditions of men. Wherefore, when he saith 
 this golden city was like unto clear glass, it is as 
 if he had said she is even with the Word and law 
 of her goldsmith, in all her matters. The Word is 
 a golden reed, this city a golden city; and that, a 
 golden city, taken out of the furnace of affliction, 
 and therefore like to the golden reed. ‘ And the 
 city was pure gold, like unto clear glass,'’ 
 
 [The glory of the foundations.] 
 
 Ver. 19, 20. ‘And the foundations of the wall 
 ivere garnished with all manner of precious stones. 
 The first foundation was jasper; the second, 
 sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an 
 emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius; 
 the seventh, chrysolite; the eighth, beryl ; the 
 ninth, a topaz; the tenth, a chrysoprasus; the 
 eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an amethyst.’ 
 
 Thus having showed us the glory of the wall, 
 and of the city, he now comes to show The glory of the 
 us the glory of the foundations. The foundations. 
 
 foundations you know, I told you before, they are 
 
432 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 the twelve apostles in tlieir doctrine, or the primi¬ 
 tive doctrine of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. 
 
 Now the great business in this place will be to 
 show you the garnishing of these foundations, and 
 also the mystery and order of the lying of the 
 foundations, for tlieir glory lieth in both. 
 
 As for the garnishing of these foundations, it is, 
 
 The Morv of the an( ^ ^ay New Jei’U- 
 
 louudations salem, two-fold, and the first is with 
 
 twofold. beautiful gifts and grace. Thus were 
 the apostles of old adorned, and thus shall their 
 doctrine again be garnished. I know that the 
 doctrine of the twelve hath been always accom¬ 
 panied with goodly gifts and grace, from the first 
 churches quite down, that is, according to the 
 measure of light they appeared in, and according 
 to the dispensations of God in the times of anti¬ 
 christ. But yet the glory that this doctrine had 
 in these latter days, I mean since the apostacy, it 
 was nothing in comparison of the glory and splen¬ 
 dour that will be in them in the day when this 
 city is built and complete. Wherefore you find, 
 that though all along in antichrist’s reign, the 
 gospel of grace hath shone, and given light to the 
 saints and people of God in all their travels and 
 The gospel dark- afflictions; yet the shining of it at that 
 smoke of anti- day was much opposed and eclipsed 
 cinist. by the smoke of the bottomless pit: 
 
 as he saith, ‘ There arose a smoke out of the pit, 
 as the smoke of a great furnace, and the sun and 
 the air were darkened by reason of the smoke of 
 the pit.’ Re. ix. 2. In which days, I say, abundance 
 of the light, heat, and operation of the gospel was 
 diminished and taken off, so that but little of the 
 power or glory of it hath been either felt or seen 
 from that time to this very day. This is that 
 God spake of by the prophet Amos, saying, * I 
 will cause the sun to go down at noon, and I will 
 darken the earth in the clear day; and I will turn 
 your feasts into mourning, and all your songs into 
 lamentation ; and I will bring up sackcloth upon 
 all loins, and baldness upon every head ; and I 
 will make it as the mourning of an only son, and 
 the end thereof as a bitter day.* All which he 
 explaineth in the next words, for ‘ Behold the days 
 come, saith the Lord God, that I will send a fa¬ 
 mine in the land, not a famine of bread, nor a 
 thirst for water, but of hearing the words of the 
 Lord; and they shall wander from sea to sea, and 
 from the north even to the east; they shall run to 
 and fro to seek the word of the Lord, and shall 
 not find it.’ Am. via. 9—12. In those days Eli’s sons 
 were become varlets. i Sa. ii. 12—15. Indeed there 
 was here and there a little child, like Samuel in 
 his minority, that now and then would speak most 
 goodly things. But ‘ the word of the Lord was 
 precious in those days, there was no open vision.’ 
 1 Sa. iii.i. This is that which David in the Spirit 
 
 of prophecy complaineth of, saying, * They know 
 not, neither will they understand; they walk on 
 in darkness: all the foundations of the earth are 
 out of course.’ Ps. lxxxii. 5. Thus in the days of the 
 eclipsing of the glory of these foundations. But 
 now, behold, they recover their light, and put on, 
 as of old, their former glory, and are again gar¬ 
 nished as in the former days. Now will all the 
 doctrines of the gospel spangle and sparkle; out 
 of every text will the ministers of God make to 
 issue exceedingly most precious and heavenly fire; 
 for these stones are indeed the stones of fire. Eze. 
 xxviii. 16. And in them is- contained that which 
 would set the whole world on a flame with love 
 and delight in the things of God and another 
 world, had but men the spirit of wisdom, and the 
 authority of God in their ministry, as the apostles 
 and the primitive Christians had. Well this doc¬ 
 trine of the twelve shall be again adorned with 
 gifts and grace as in the days of old: by which it 
 shall also be made to shine, and to cast forth its 
 golden rays before the nations to their salvation. 
 Behold, saith God, I will lay thy stones with fair 
 colours, that is, thy apostolical doctrines shall 
 again be garnished as at the first, is. liv. 11 . Truth 
 shall appear in it3 old and mature colours, and as 
 such shall be embraced, and lived and delighted 
 in, both by Jews and Gentiles, as I have showed. 
 
 But secondly, The twelve foundations that here 
 
 you read of, they are the same with If you compare the 
 
 those twelve stones that long be- stones you will find 
 
 fore were set in the breastplate of to differ in name, 
 
 . , . • i i . but know it is usual 
 
 judgment, in which were engraven f 0l - 0 ne stone to go 
 
 the names of the twelve tribes of Sj-SSTS 
 the children of Israel, the names Greek doth give 
 
 -i , many things other 
 of which tribes did comprehend the names than doth 
 
 whole body of the house of their tlie Hebrew text ' 
 fathers. Ex. xxviii. 16 —21, 29 ; xxxix. 14 Now then, see¬ 
 ing these twelve are the same with those on the 
 breastplate of judgment; and seeing also, that 
 those on the breastplate did comprehend the whole 
 of the twelve tribes, I conclude that for these 
 foundations to be garnished with all manner of 
 precious stones, it is as much as to say, they shall 
 be garnished with abundance of converts ; multi¬ 
 tudes, and that of all sorts, both of Jews and Gen¬ 
 tiles, Moors, Tartars, Turks, and those in the 
 utmost parts of the world, shall now Converts tbs 
 be entangled with the light and truth, th^^^bumla- 
 with the glory and goodness of the tl0ns - 
 doctrine of the twelve. And I the rather take it 
 thus, 1. Because, as the foundations themselves 
 are said to be precious stones; so also the saints 
 in general, they go under the same names too. 
 As Jeremiah saith, the precious stones of the 
 sanctuary are the precious sons of Zion. La. iv. i— 3 . 
 As Peter also saith, in alluding to the precious 
 stones of the temple; the saints are lively, or living 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 433 
 
 precious stones, built up a spiritual bouse, <fcc. 
 i re. ii. 5 . And the foundations of the wall were 
 garnished with all manner of precious stones, l Ch. 
 xxix. 2 . That is, the doctrine of the twelve was 
 garnished with all manner of precious souls; that 
 is, converted by it, by which they become a glory 
 and a garnishing to it. 2. I take it to bo the 
 conversion of the precious ones of God; because 
 that thus to understand it, is most like the phrase 
 of the apostle Paul himself, saying, ‘ What is our 
 hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even 
 ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his 
 coming ? For ye are our glory and j oy . ’ l Th. ii. ia, 20 . 
 Mark, in the text he saith, The foundations were 
 garnished with all manner of precious stones, and 
 here those precious stones, Paul accounts to be 
 those that are converted by the Word: for what is 
 our hope, or joy, or crown? are not even ye that 
 have been converted by us? Ye are our joy, ye 
 are our crown, ye are our glory; it is with you 
 that we shall be crowned, adorned, and garnished 
 in the presence of our Lord Jesus. Mark, John 
 saith, They are garnished, Paul saith, they are 
 crowned; John saith, they are garnished with 
 precious stones, and Paul saith, they are crowned 
 with the conversion of sinners. Thus therefore as 
 God will lay these stones with fair colours, so also 
 lie will lay these foundations with sapphires, is.liv. 11 . 
 That is, as he will beautify the doctrine of the twelve 
 with its former glory, sweetness, and authority; so 
 he will crow r n and garnish it with the conversion of 
 many sinners. The elect are the jewels of God, 
 and this is the day of his binding them up, even 
 then when the antichrist falls, and the gospel 
 breaks out in its primitive glory. Mai. iii. 16—is. 
 
 And the foundations of the w r all were garnished 
 with all manner of precious stones.’ In these 
 words, there are yet two things considerable. 
 
 First Consideration. That all who go to the 
 adorning of these foundations, they must he precious 
 stones, not a common stone shall here be owned. 
 And iudeed w r hat should pebbles do among the 
 pearls and the diamonds of New Jerusalem; or the 
 stones of blackness and emptiness, among the saints 
 of light. Job xxv Hi. 3. I tell you, that those which 
 God doth reckon the adorning-stones, they are all 
 and every one, precious stones; they must be all 
 lively, glistering, and curious stones, though stones 
 of divers colours, l Pe. ii. 6. l Ch. xxix. 2. Antichrist 
 counts anything sufficient enough to garnish his 
 apostles with, even the empty stones of confusion, 
 the sinners that have no more grace in their souls 
 then there is sap in a post that hath been this 
 twenty years without either sap or water. is. xxxiv. 11. 
 But God will not count such for the beauty of his 
 word, nor for the garnishing and beautifying of 
 the doctrine of the twelve, they are garnished with 
 Precious Stones, 
 vol. nr. 
 
 Second Consideration. As he saith the founda¬ 
 tions are garnished with precious stones only, so 
 he saith it is with All Manner of precious stones: 
 by which he would have us understand that all 
 saints have not the same degree either of precious 
 grace or gifts and virtue in them. There are some 
 that excel and differ from the rest, even as one 
 star differeth from another in glory. lCo. xiv. i?. 
 Some saints, as they have both more grace and 
 also gifts than others; so too they are more labori¬ 
 ous and painful in the work of God than their fel¬ 
 lows, and therefore he saith, All Manner of pre¬ 
 cious stones. Pr. xxxi. 29. 1 Co. xv. 10, 41. 
 
 [ The Foundations, what they are, until their order of 
 
 placing.] 
 
 Verse 20. ‘The first foundation ivas jasper; the 
 second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the 
 fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, 
 sardius; the seventh, chrysolite;’ he. Thus having 
 showed you the garnishing and beautifying of the 
 twelve foundations, he now comes to discover the 
 foundations themselves, with reference to their order 
 of placing and lying. 
 
 [The First Foundation.] Touching which order, 
 he saith the first and bottom foundation is a jasper. 
 
 I have hitherto said that this jasper in both the 
 two afore-mentioned places, both as to The ^ r docs 
 the light of this city, and also of the represent the 
 w’all, it was Jesus Christ: Christ il- upon several 
 luminating, and Christ defending. accouuts - 
 But here the jasper is said to be one of the twelve 
 foundations, even one of those foundations in which 
 are writ the names of the twelve apostles of the 
 Lamb, w’hich one would think did put this jasper 
 now into another state, even to be a representation 
 of one of the tw r elve apostles, and not of the Lord 
 and Saviour Jesus Christ himself. To which I 
 shall yet say, that the jasper here in the order of 
 the foundations, is to be understood of Christ, as 
 well as in the other two places in this discourse; 
 
 I say it is yet to be understood of representing the 
 Lord Jesus, though it also doth bear the name of 
 one of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. And in 
 this very thing there is an infolding mystery 
 wrapped up and inclosed. For, 
 
 First. In that the name of an apostle is writ in 
 this stone, and yet that this jasper 
 
 i u . /v, . , The first account, 
 
 should represent Christ, it showeth 
 unto us the agreement that is between the doctrine 
 of the apostles and Christ himself, to wit, that 
 they are one and the very same; and hence it is 
 that the apostle saith, ‘ We preach Christ crucified. ’ 
 l Co. i. 23, 24. Christ in all bis benefits is the very 
 marrow, life, and sum of all their teaching. ‘ Other 
 foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which 
 is Jesus Christ. ’ l Co. iii. n. Wherefore the doctrine 
 of the apostles being Christ itself, no marvel though 
 
 55 
 
434 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 the name of an apostle be writ upon this jasper; 
 and again, no marvel though this jasper go yet 
 under that name that represents him. 
 
 Second. In that it is said the names of the twelve 
 The second ac- are m these twelve foundations, and 
 count. yet that the first of them should be 
 the jasper, Christ; it argueth also, that whosoever 
 receiveth the doctrine of the twelve, they must needs 
 with that receive the Lord Christ himself. Receive 
 the doctrine of the gospel, as it is held forth by the 
 twelve in the word, and thou canst not miss of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ himself; he will be found in the 
 bottom of their doctrine. Ye ‘ are built upon the 
 foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus 
 Christ himself being the chief corner stoned 
 Ep. i. 19, 20. 
 
 Third. In that he saith in these twelve stones 
 Tlie third ac- are the names of the twelve apostles, 
 count. anc [ y e t that the first should be the 
 jasper, Christ; it argueth also that wherever the 
 doctrine of the twelve is preached, there is there¬ 
 with the presence of Christ: the presence of his 
 Spirit to teach and enlighten the ignorant and 
 blind hearts of the unconverted ; the presence also 
 of his power to overcome them, and to make them 
 fall under the glory and truth of his heavenly word. 
 
 «Lo,’ saith he, ‘ I am with you alway, even unto 
 the end of the world.’ * And they went forth and 
 preached everywhere, the Lord working with them , 
 and confirming the word with signs following.’ 
 Mat. xxviii. 20. Mar. xvi. 20. 
 
 Fourth, In that he saith the names of the twelve 
 The fourth, ac- are ^ ie foundations, and yet that 
 count. Christ should be one of the twelve him¬ 
 self; it showeth to us the union that is between 
 Christ and his holy people. Mark in the twelve 
 foundations are placed all, even all manner of pre¬ 
 cious stones. Again, in the twelve is placed the 
 jasper, Christ; by which we may see the nearness 
 that is between Christ and his whole body. ‘ I in 
 them, and thou in me,’ saith Christ, ‘that they 
 may be made perfect in one.’ Jn. xvii. 23. Christ and 
 his saints make but one temple, one man; being 
 but one flesh, one nature, &c. 1 Co. xii. 12 . 
 
 Fifth. In that this jasper is said to be one of 
 The fifth ac- the foundations, and that too the first 
 count. and undermost; he showeth farther, 
 that Christ is the foundation of them before God, 
 that are the foundation of him before men. The 
 twelve do bear up Christ before the world, as the 
 twelve brazen oxen did hold up the molten sea in 
 the temple. 1 Ki. vii. 25. And Christ doth bear up 
 the twelve before his Father, as the high priests 
 did carry the twelve stones on their breast-plate 
 of judgment, when they went to make an atone¬ 
 ment for the sins of the people, into the holiest. 
 Ex. xxviii. 29. 
 
 Sixth. It showeth us further, that though the 
 
 apostles shall be adorned with the conversion of 
 those that they shall win to the Lord The sixth ac- 
 Clirist; yet they will never be able to 
 stand under that glory and honour unless they are 
 supported and upheld by Christ, as their founda¬ 
 tion. Sirs, as Christ is the strength of his people 
 in their work for him in this world, so he must be 
 their strength by which they must stand under the 
 reward they shall have for their labour when this 
 world is ended. And hence it is, that the prophet 
 saith, ‘ They shall hang upon him all the glory of 
 his Father’s house, the off-spring and the issue; 
 all vessels of small quantity, from the vessels of 
 cups, even to all the vessels of flagons,’ is. xxii. 2 - 1 , 
 and again, ‘ He shall build the temple of the Lord, 
 and he shall bear the glory. ’ Zee. vi. 13. lie shall 
 bear the glory of our salvation from sin, preserva¬ 
 tion in the midst of all temptations, and of our go¬ 
 ing to glory; also he shall bear the glory of our 
 labour in the gospel, of our gifts and abilities, of 
 making; our labour and work effectual to the saving 
 of sinners, ‘ that in all things he might have the 
 pre-eminence.’ Col. i. 18. 
 
 Seventh. In that the foundations are twelve, and 
 Christ the undermost of them; it sig- The seventh ac- 
 nifieth, that all that are converted by couut 
 the twelve, as they shall be for the garnishing of 
 the twelve, so also both the twelve, with all that 
 they are garnished with, shall be for garnishing of 
 Christ. We shall stick like pearls in the crowns 
 of the twelve apostles, and they again with all their 
 glory shall stick in the crown of Christ. And 
 hence it is that you find the four and twenty 
 elders, which four and twenty do, as I conceive, 
 hold forth the twelve, both in the first and second 
 Jerusalem. I say, hence it is that you find them 
 take their crowns from off their heads, and cast 
 them down before the throne of God and of the 
 Lamb, crying, ‘ Blessing, and honour, and glory 
 and power be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, 
 and unto the Lamb for ever and ever.’ Re. iv. 9—11 j 
 v. 11—14. 
 
 Eighth. One thing more of this goodly jasper, 
 and then to the rest; which thing is The eighth ac- 
 this, that jasper that here you find to 
 be the first in the twelve foundations, even that 
 jasper you find to be the last of all among the 
 stones in the breast-plate of judgment. Ex. xxviii. 20 . 
 From whence you may note, 1. That Christ, as he 
 is to be the author, or first of our faith, so also he 
 is to be the finisher, or last of our faith. He. xii. 2. 
 
 2. That as he is to be the captain and leader of his 
 people, so he is to be the rereward and bringer 
 up of his people. He. ii. 10 . is. m. 12 . He is to go be¬ 
 fore them to lead them the way; and to come be¬ 
 hind them to bring them all up. is. lviii. 8. Ex. xiv. 19. 
 
 3. Again, forasmuch as lie is said to be last before 
 he is first; that is, last in Exodus, and after that, 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 435 
 
 first, in the Revelations, it may he to show us, that 
 Christ was first to he least, lowest, and last, and 
 then to he greatest, highest, and first. lie first 
 humbled himself to the death, even to the shame¬ 
 ful death of the cross; and then was hy God his 
 Father exalted and placed above every name; as 
 lie also himself doth witness, saying, * Ought not 
 Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter 
 into his glory?’ Lu. xxiv. 26. Phi. ii. 6—11. 
 
 [ The other foundations .] * The first foundation 
 
 was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chal¬ 
 cedony; the fourth, an emerald; the fifth, sardonyx; 
 the sixth, sardius; the seventh, chrysolite; the eighth, 
 beryl; the ninth, a topaz,’ &c. Touching the 
 jasper you see what I have said. Now all I have 
 to say to the rest of them, it is in general these 
 three things. 
 
 First, In that the foundations are all and every 
 
 Tonciiino- the one ^ ienl precious stones, it signi- 
 
 rest of the fietli that all the doctrines of the New 
 foundations. T . ... . . 
 
 Jerusalem will be only the precious 
 doctrine of the twelve apostles, not common stuff, 
 not raked out of the dunghills and muck-heaps of 
 this world, and from among the toys of antichrist, 
 but spiritual, heavenly, and glorious. lie that 
 hath his word shall then speak it faithfully, for 
 * what is the chaff to the wheat ? saith the Lord. ’ 
 
 Je. xxiii. 28, 32. 
 
 Second, In that they are called after the names 
 of precious stones, it signifieth also that at that 
 day none shall be used or put into the ministry 
 but those that have received spiritual and heavenly 
 gifts from above. It is not every babbling fel¬ 
 low, not those that look for their abilities from 
 the rudiments of the world, that then shall be of 
 any value or account. He must be a costly stone, 
 a stone about which the Lord Jesus hath bestowed 
 the cost of his heavenly abilities, even he whom 
 the Lord Jesus shall appear unto for that very 
 purpose, to make him a minister. IIe shall be a 
 minister, and none else at that day. The other 
 shall be ashamed every one of his vision ; yea, and 
 shall in those days be so contemptible, that their 
 father and their mother shall reprove them, and 
 count them liars; yea, and shall be ready to run 
 them through while they are prophesying in their 
 rough garments to deceive. Zee. xiii. 3—5. 
 
 Third . In that these precious stones are not all 
 The differing na- of one and the same nature, but 
 
 ture and opera- n , , ... 
 
 tious of these everyone of them several, and diverse 
 
 forth S tiie°differ- 0110 from another; it argueth that 
 
 encesofadminis- the gifts of the apostles, aild SO of 
 trations and ope- ° , 1 ’ 
 
 rations that was the ministers of the New Jerusalem, 
 
 and will ever be . . ,, 
 
 among the true shall be differing one from another 
 
 ters of )1 the m Lo 1 I S (i in glory and operation ; yet mark, 
 
 JcsU3 - as in these stones, so in every one 
 
 of them shall be perfect glory, according to the 
 
 nature of God’s Working by his Spirit; as the 
 
 nature of the jasper is perfect in his kind, and the 
 nature of the sapphire is perfect in his. These 
 stones, some of them are of greater light and 
 clearness than others; and so some of the apostles 
 are chiefest. 2 Co.xi. 5. Some of these stones, again, 
 they are of a more fiery and burning colour than 
 others, they being bright also, but of a more mild 
 brightness. Therefore some of the ministry are 
 called the sons of thunder, when others are styled 
 by the name of the sons of consolation. Mar. m. 17 . Ac. 
 iv. 36. The gifts are differing, being diverse, their 
 administrations are differing, and the operations 
 of them also are differing, though all those things 
 are from that one and the self-same Spirit, work¬ 
 ing in every one severally as he pleases. Ro. xii. 6. 
 lCo. xii. 4-6. All these things will spangle in the 
 New Jerusalem, and carry their full breadth and 
 sway as in the days of old. 
 
 To conclude this, in that he here saith, that 
 the foundations of the wall are these twelve stones, 
 he doth it to show that now also the former minis¬ 
 tration that was in the apostles’ days will be the 
 same and in full force again. For their gifts of 
 knowledge, judgment, and authority, they are such 
 as have to this day lain buried, as it were with the 
 apostles themselves. But now they shall show 
 themselves again, even these foundation-stones, 
 stones that are great stones, stones of ten cubits, 
 and stones of eight cubits, l Ki. vii. lo. Thus much 
 of the glory of the foundations. 
 
 [The glory of the gates. ] 
 
 Ycr. 21, * And the twelve gates were twelve 
 pearls, every several gate was of one pearl; and 
 the street of the city was pure gold, as it were trans¬ 
 parent glass.’ Having thus showed us the glory 
 of this city, wall, and foundations, he now comes 
 to show us the glory of the gates and of the street 
 of the city. 
 
 ‘ And the twelve gates are twelve pearls.’ The 
 gates, I told you before, they signify The glory of the 
 Christ, both as he is the way to com- gates * 
 munion with the God of this city, and with the 
 inhabitants thereof, that so they may have a share 
 in the privileges of the same. I told you also 
 then, that though he tells us exactly of the mea¬ 
 sure both of city and wall, yet he tells us nothing 
 of the measure of these twelve gates and goings in 
 thereat, and the reason is, because Christ, as he 
 is the way to grace, he is beyond all measure both 
 as to fulness and freeness. Ep. iii. 8. And now 
 again he puts us to the same plunge with the un¬ 
 searchable riches of the Lord Christ; for who can 
 count the worth of pearl as big as the gates of a 
 city? As, indeed, when Christ himself doth speak 
 of the parable of the pearl in the field, he only 
 telleth us that there is such a one, but never 
 valueth the worth thereof, only he saith, a pearl 
 

 ic 
 
 4 ! 
 
 [f# 
 
 IS 
 
 n 
 
 IK 
 
 3 
 
 (!» 
 
 < if 
 
 •»« 
 
 "■'ll 
 
 vn/i 
 
 4-oo 
 
 great 
 
 leavetli lfc. Mat. xili 35, 36. 
 
 Christ to all 
 that enter 
 here. 
 
 Now, when lie saitli that the gates are pearls, he 
 thereby insinuates several things. As, 
 
 First. To show us how rich a treasure Christ 
 Christ a rich Jesus our Lord is, and will be to all 
 those that by him shall enter in 
 through the gates into this city, 
 ‘riches and honour are with me,’ saith he, even 
 ‘ durable riches and righteousness. My fruit (or 
 the fruit of entering in by me) is better than gold, 
 and my revenue than choice silver. I lead in the 
 way of righteousness, in the midst of the paths of 
 judgment; that I may cause those that love me to 
 inherit substance, and I will fill their treasures.’ 
 Pr. viii. 18-21. Ep. iii. 8. 
 
 Christ is rich indeed, both in his blood, resur¬ 
 rection, intercession, and all his offices, together 
 with his relations and all his benefits; all which 
 lie bestoweth upon every one that receiveth him, 
 and maketh them unspeakably wealthy. 
 
 Second. The pearl, as it is rich, and so worth 
 
 much, so ao;ain it is beautiful and 
 
 nil to all that amiable, even to take the eyes of all 
 licrc do enter* iiii t, *■ ,1 t 
 
 beholders. It hath, 1 say, a very 
 sweet and sparkling light and glory in it, enough 
 to take the eye and affect the heart of all those 
 that look upon it. And thus is Christ to all that 
 come to him, and by him to the Lather, &c. 
 
 ‘ My beloved,’ saith she, ‘ is white and ruddy, the 
 chiefest among ten thousand.’ ‘ His mouth is 
 most sweet, yea, he is altogether lovely.’ Ca.v. 
 10,16. 
 
 The mother of harlots had some knowledge of 
 the beauty and glory of this stone, and knew that 
 it had a very taking and drawing glory in it, and 
 therefore she gets it for some time to adorn her¬ 
 self withal; she was decked with gold and pre¬ 
 cious stones and pearls, Ez. xvi. 17 , and was therefore 
 called ‘ the well-favoured harlot.’ Na. iii. 4. Re.xviii. 4 . 
 By which means she hath drawn into her lewdness 
 the kings and kingdoms of the world; who have 
 in such sort been entangled with her beauty, and 
 with her fornication, that they have been adul¬ 
 terated from God and their own salvation. For 
 indeed she used this pearl but for to get them to 
 drink of her fornication, that they might drink 
 and spew, and fall and never rise more. But now 
 when he saith, the gates are pearl, it is as if he 
 had said, this woman is stript of her beauty and 
 delicate ornaments; the pearl is taken from her, 
 and is set in its right place, even to be for the 
 gates of Jerusalem. Re. xviii. 12 , 22 , 23 . Wherefore it 
 is to be expected, that many should be taken with 
 the way of entrance into this beloved city in the 
 day that she shall be set up and appear in her 
 heavenly beauty. Pr. viii. 35; iii. 35 . The glory of that 
 city must needs be great whose wall is jasper and 
 gates are pearl. 1 Co. ii. a. Jn. xvii. 21 . 
 
 And the twelve gates were tw'elve pearls.’ Not 
 pearls and other precious stones com- Christ only can 
 
 • i i m • • r» let in souls to 
 
 mixed, but pearl only. lo signify the privileges 
 
 that Christ only can let in souls into ofliis church. 
 
 this city, that they may partake of the goodness 
 and privileges thereof. It is not he and saints 
 together, neither is it all the saints and angels in 
 heaven without him, he alone ‘ hath the key of 
 David, and that openeth, and no man shutteth; 
 and that shutteth, and no man openeth. ’ Re. iii.7; xxii. 12 . 
 
 Secondly, As he saith, the several gates are 
 each of them pearls, so he saith that every several 
 gate was of one pearl, of one entire pearl. By 
 which he would have us to under¬ 
 stand also, that as none can enter in 
 but by Christ, so none can enter in 
 but by whole Christ. Christ must be 
 helpful to thee every way, or he will 
 be helpful to thee no way; thou must enter in by 
 every whit of Christ, or thou shalt enter in by 
 never a whit of him. Wherefore look not to have 
 him thy Saviour, if thou take him not for king and 
 prophet; nay, thou shalt not have him in any one, 
 if thou dost not take him in every one of these. 
 Wherefore the prophet saith, 4 lie shall build the 
 temple of the Lord (that is, by his prophetical 
 office) - and shall sit and rule upon his throne, and 
 ho shall be a priest upon his throne, and the 
 counsel of peace shall be between them both.’ 
 
 As none can 
 enter in but by 
 Christ, so none 
 can enter in 
 but by WHOLE 
 Christ. 
 
 Zee. vi. 13. 
 
 [ The glory of the street .] 
 
 * And the street of the city was pure gold, as it 
 were transparent glass.’ In these words there 
 are four things to be enquired into. First. What 
 this street is ? Second. Why he saith of the glory of 
 not streets, but street, as of one? the street. 
 Third. Why this street is called by the term of 
 pure gold ? Fourth. And why it should look like 
 transparent glass. For the 
 
 First, A street ordinarily is the place of common 
 concourse, and the place of continual open saluta¬ 
 tion, and taking acquaintance one of another; and 
 as touching this street, we are also to understand it 
 of the open and common place or way of God’s wor¬ 
 ship, in which saints salute each other and acquaint 
 themselves together; also here the world are con¬ 
 verted, saints built up and edified, &c. ‘Wisdom 
 crieth without; she uttereth her voice in the streets,’ 
 saith Solomon; ‘ she crieth in the chief place of 
 concourse, in the openings of the gates; in the 
 city she uttereth her words.’ rr. i. 20 , 21 . That is, 
 in the public and righteous ordinances what i s mea nt 
 of the Lord Jesus, which he hath or- bystreet, 
 dained in his church, for men to travel and trade 
 in, 1 for the good and wholesome merchandize of 
 
 
 1 * To travel and trade,’ means to pursue or labour in an 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 437 
 
 heaven, as the men of this world do for the tilings 
 thereof in the streets and open places of their cities 
 and places of privilege, rr. viii 1-3 ;ix. 1 - 3 . 
 
 Thus it was in the figure when the city Jeru¬ 
 salem was built after the captivity, as ours shall be 
 at and after the overthrow and downfall of anti¬ 
 christ, for then it is said that the people, to hear 
 the law, were gathered together in the street, even 
 in the water street; there they heard the sense 
 given, and there they were convinced of their 
 wickedness; also there they received the know¬ 
 ledge of God’s goodness to them, and there they 
 received power to eat the fat and drink the sweet, 
 to eat and drink and be merry, and to cast away 
 sadness and fear. Ne. viii. This, by way of allegory, 
 is called the way for the wayfaring men, even the 
 way of holiness, over which the unclean shall not 
 in anywise pass. The way in which they learn 
 to know God and themselves, and the way of new¬ 
 ness of life, in which every one walks that entereth 
 in by the gates of New Jerusalem. And it is 
 most suitable to the matter that went before to 
 understand the street to be the way of God, the 
 way of holiness and newness of life; because as it 
 is natural for the stranger, so soon as ever lie is 
 entered the gates of a city, to have his feet in the 
 streets of the city, so it is natural for the sinner, 
 so soon as ever he is entered into the church by 
 
 Christ, to have his feet treading in the 
 
 The ° 
 
 way and paths of holiness. Wherefore 
 it is usual in the Holy Scripture to call the trans¬ 
 formation of the sinner from Satan to God a holy 
 way, and also to admonish him that is so trans¬ 
 formed to walk in that way, saying, Walk in the 
 faith, love, spirit, and newness of life, and walk in 
 the truth, ways, statutes, and judgments of God. 
 Ps. lxxxvi. 11 j cxliii. 8. Eze. xi. 20; xxxvii. 24. Ga. v. 25. Ito. iv. 12. 
 
 lie that entereth not by these gates into the 
 city, he cannot walk in newness of life; but he 
 that entered in by them, lie cannot but walk in 
 newness of life. The next thing then that a man 
 passeth into when he is entered into the New 
 Jerusalem, is to walk in the Street thereof, the 
 way of holiness, even the way in which men learn 
 to fear God, and to believe in and love the Lord 
 
 J CSUS, <kc. Ep. v. 1, 2. 2 Jn. 4. Ro. vi. 4. 
 
 Second. Now this street or way of holiness, it is 
 
 Why this street is 0n P Ur P 0Se Called not maU Jh *>Ut One, 
 
 called not many, to show us the perfection of light, 
 but one. r . . ® ’ 
 
 grace, faith, and spiritual comfort, 
 that the inhabitants of this city shall then enjoy. 
 Daniel also calletli it one street, to signify the 
 same thing. Da. ix. 25 . Wherefore from hence I 
 gather, that then all saints shall walk—as before 
 I have made appear—even in one street, in one 
 
 habitual course, exercise, or custom, as, * Thy sin’s not acci¬ 
 dental but a trade.’— Sftakspeare. Or, trade wind.—(E d.) 
 
 way, and in one light. It is Antichrist that hath 
 brought in all those crossings, bye-lanes, and odd 
 nooks, that to this day many an honest heart doth 
 greatly lose itself iu; hut at this day they shall 
 be otherwise minded, that is, made all to savour 
 one thing, and to walk one way, not biting and 
 devouring each other as now. And indeed there 
 is all reason it should be thus, for the street itself 
 is but one. There is but one God, one Lord 
 Jesus, ONE Spirit, ONE faith, one baptism, even as 
 we are also called in one hope of our calling. Ep. iv. 
 5, G. Ac. ii. 27, 32, 33. Th. i. 27. Ro. xv. 6. Now, therefore, 
 when saints have the rubbish of antichristian 
 darkness and trumpery removed, then they shall 
 have, as they also had of old, but one heart, one 
 soul, one judgment, one mind, and shall with one 
 heart and mouth glorify God. The which also 
 shall be prayed for of all the saints, even of all 
 that have received the pure language before these 
 things come to pass. They shall * call upon tho 
 name of the Lord ’ with One lip, ‘ to serve him 
 with One consent.* Zep. iii. 9 . 0! the heavenly 
 
 spiritual harmony that will he in the city of God 
 in those days, when the trumpeters and singers 
 shall be as one, to make one sound, then tho 
 house shall be filled with a cloud.’ 1 2 2 Ch. v. 13. 
 
 Third. When he saitli that the street of the 
 city was pure gold, he alludes to the why the street 
 floor in Solomon’s temple, which was called gold. 
 
 overlaid with gold. 1 Ki. vi. 30. He alludes to Solo¬ 
 mon’s chariot also, whose bottom was paved with 
 love, and overlaid with gold. Ca.iii. 10 . By the 
 floor of the temple, we are to understand the way 
 of holiness ; and by the chariot of Solomon, the 
 triumphant glory of that way. Again, in that I 10 
 saitli this street is gold, lie would have us to 
 understand the worth and treasure that is laid up 
 in the ways of God, and of a truly gracious heart. 
 First for the worth and treasure that is laid up in 
 the ways of God. They beget light, Ps. cxix. 130 , 
 they change the heart, they lead from death, the 
 devil, and hell, to life, God, and the kingdom of 
 heaven. Ps. cxix. 9. Pr. ii. In them God walks, and 
 those that walk there also are sure to meet with 
 him. Is. lxiv. 5 . 0 this way, it is the way which ‘no 
 fowl knoweth, and which the vulture’s eye hath not 
 seen‘ It cannot be gotten for gold, neither shall 
 silver be weighed for the price thereof. - The gold 
 
 1 The perfect unity of the Christian world is not likely to 
 take place before the glorious meeting in the holy city, under 
 the personal reign of Christ. The divisions among Christians 
 arise, as Bunyan justly says, from antichristian rubbish, dark¬ 
 ness, and trumpery; the great evil arising from difference of 
 opinion, is that lust of domination over the faith of others 
 which naturally leads to bitterness and persecution. In the 
 earliest days one was of Paul, another of Apollos, and another 
 of Cephas. The exercise of Christian forbearance was not an 
 act of uniformity, but a declaration of the Holy Ghost. ‘ Who 
 art thou that judgest another man’s servant ?’ ‘ Let every man 
 
 be fully persuaded in his own mind.’ Ito. xiv. 4, 5 .—(Ed.) 
 
4 33 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
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 and tlie crystal cannot equal it; and tlie exchange 
 of it shall not be for jewels of fine gold. No men¬ 
 tion shall be made of coral or of pearls ; for the 
 price of wisdom is above rubies.’ Job xxviii. 7,15—18, 28. 
 All the ways of God they are pleasantness, and all 
 
 1. That the walking and ways of holiness of the 
 saints shall he more in the power and llie firgt reason 
 spirit of the Word, than all along in why^trausparent 
 the reign of Antichrist they have 
 been. For transparent glass, it is the most clear 
 
 his paths are peace, and ought to be preferred and excellent glass, and goeth as far beyond other 
 before our necessary food. Pr. iii. 17 - sorts of glass, as he that walks in the spirit and 
 
 Again, as the ways of God are thus rich, and sq power of the commandment goes beyond him that 
 far above the gold and rubies of the world, so also only walks in the letter and outward word thereof, 
 is that sanctified and gracious heart, without which Alas, the churches of Clnist, at their first assem- 
 no man can walk in this golden street. It. is not bling, will be like the coming together of Ezekiel’s 
 every clown with his clumping dirty shoes that i3 bones, clothed much with flesh and sinews, but 
 admitted into kings’ privy-chambers and private greatly void of spirit and life. Ez. xxxvii. 7, 8. Where- 
 palaces; neither d*oth, or will God, at the day of fore the spirit, power, holiness, and majesty that 
 New Jerusalem, suffer any to trace about this now will appear in the church, it will greatly 
 golden street, but such as have golden feet, and transcend and go beyond the spirit, power, and 
 that beautified with goodly shoes. For as for this holiness that hath accompanied her in former days, 
 street, all that walk in it, they must be golden Then shall the sun be ashamed, and the moon 
 men, with golden hearts, and with graces that are confounded, when the Lord shall reign in Mount 
 
 ‘ much more precious than of gold that perisheth.’ Zion, &c. Is. xxiv. 23. Then shall the sun be 
 Ca. vii. 1.1 Pe. i. 7. Re. iii. 18. ashamed, that is, then shall that little light and 
 
 Further, in that he saitli this street is gold, understanding of the Word, that hath been in the 
 * pure gold,’ he giveth us to understand also what church in the days when a third part of the glory 
 great delight and pleasure the Lord’s people will of the gospel was hid by the smoke of the pit, be, 
 take in his°ways and ordinances in that day. There as it were, laid aside and be useless. Re.viii.i2 ; ix.2. 
 will not then be that backwardness to do good, and Every saint shall be under the light of a sun that 
 to receive God, as there is in these more dry and shines seven-fold brighter, even as the light of 
 empty days of the gospel. As gold is pleasing seven days. We see it is so in some measure at 
 to the covetous man and worldling, so shall the this day; what light, and with what clearness do 
 ways of God be to the saints and godly at that the saints in this day see the things pertaining to 
 day. Now we have strong corruptions and weak the kingdom of God, beyond what the holy and 
 grace, but then we shall have strong grace and goodly martyrs and saints did in the day s that 
 weak withered corruptions. You that are spiritual, were before us; Huss, Bilney, Ridley, Hooper, Cran- 
 you know what an high and goodly lifting up of mer, with their brethren, if they were now in the 
 heart one small gale of the good Spirit of God will Avorld, would cry out and say, Our light and know- 
 make in your souls, how it will make your lusts to ledge of the word of the Testament of Christ was 
 languish, and your souls to love, and take pleasure much inferior to the light that at this day is broken 
 in the Lord that saves you. You know, I say, forth, and that will yet daily, in despite of men and 
 what a flame of love, and bowels, and compassion, devils, display its rays and beams amongst the sons 
 and self-denial, and endeared affection to God and of men! 1 When the children of Israel were to 
 all saints, it will beget in the soul. 0! it is good | depart the land of Egypt, the Lord made known 
 to be here, saitli the gracious heart. Well, and 
 so thou shalt be always, if thou live to see New 
 Jerusalem settled in her own place. Is. lxv. 17—25. 
 
 [Fourth.] ‘ And the street of the city was pure 
 What is meant by gold, as it were transparent glass.’ 
 
 giass, Mark, a street of gold like glass, a 
 street of gold, as it were transparent glass. By 
 glass here, as also in ver. 18, we are to understand 
 the Word. Ja.i.23—25. Wherefore, when he saith 
 the street, the golden street, was like unto glass, 
 he means, that the walking and carriage of the 
 saints at this day shall be like unto, or according 
 to, the Word, the life of the saints answering the 
 life of the Word and rule of the Lord Christ. 
 
 Again, in that he doth add to glass the word 
 transparent, he would have us to understand 
 thereby these two things. 
 
 himself to them otherwise than ever he made 
 known himself either to Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob, 
 their fathers. Ex.vi. 3. The book also, at tho 
 recovering the church from under Antichrist, is 
 to be unlocked and unsealed gradually, first one 
 seal and afterwards another, and last of all the 
 seventh, before which time the book will never 
 quite be opened. Re. v. and vi. According to that 
 of the angel, ‘ Go thy way, Daniel; for the words 
 are closed up, and sealed till the time of the end. 
 Da, xii. 9. In which time (which is the time of New 
 Jerusalem) they shall be opened, and men shall 
 
 1 As the leaven goes on imperceptibly until the whole is 
 leavened, so the kingdom of our Lord must increase. How 
 extraordinary has been the progress of Divine truth since 
 Banyan’s days! and who can predict what it will be in another 
 century ?—(Ed.) 
 
TIIE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 439 
 
 consider it perfectly. 7 Jc. xxx. 24; xxiii. 20 . Where¬ 
 fore, 
 
 2. It must needs be that the church return to 
 , her old and primitive love. For what 
 
 I lie second reason _ 1 
 
 why transparent is the cause of the want of love to 
 
 Christ and one another now, but our 
 want of light in the things, mysteries, and privi¬ 
 leges of the glorious gospel of the Son of God ? 
 Wherefore this being come, then love will reign, 
 and have her perfect work among the godly. Love 
 is the very quintessence of all the graces of the 
 gospel, and is as transparent to them ; * the 
 greatest of these is charity.’ lCo.xiii. 13. It is the 
 ‘fulfilling of the law, 7 ‘the bond of perfectness,’ 
 and the most ‘ excellent way. 7 l Co. xii. 31. Ro. xiii. 10. 
 l Co. xvi. 14. Col. iii. 14. Wherefore the Holy Ghost doth 
 mean, by this word transparent glass, that the 
 height of light, and the height of love, will be 
 found in this city; all their things shall be done 
 without confused smoke and darkness, and also 
 without spiritual pride and desire of vain-glory: 
 then shall they indeed do all their things in charity, 
 and in the feeling bowels and fellowship of the 
 gospel. ‘Then shall the offering of Judah and 
 Jerusalem be pleasant unto the Lord, as in the 
 days of old, and as in former years. 7 Mai. iii. 4. 
 
 Alas! though now through grace the saints of 
 God have attained to more light and knowledge in 
 the mysteries of the kingdom of God than here¬ 
 tofore they had, yet their light is far inferior to 
 that which will be when this city is built. Our 
 spiritual union and fellowship in the very bowels 
 of the grace and gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ 
 also is yet greatly defective. It is said that * no 
 man was able to enter into the temple 7 of God, 
 * till the seven plagues of the seven angels were 
 fulfilled. 7 Re. xv. 8. But when the seven last plagues 
 are spent, and when all the adversaries of the 
 church, which caused terror in the land of the 
 living, shall be laid with the uncircumcised in the 
 pit, then look for golden days, and not till then. 
 Eze. xxxii. 18. Then shall this golden street be finished; 
 that is, then shall the light, faith, love, and holi¬ 
 ness of the gospel be walked in and embraced 
 in a transparent and transcending way. ‘ He 
 shall cause them that come of Jacob to take root; 
 Israel shall blossom and bud, and fill the face of 
 the world with fruit. 7 Is.xxvii. 6. 
 
 [ The city has no temple .] 
 
 Ver. 22. ‘And I saw no temple therein; for 
 
 The time when the Lord God Almighty and the 
 
 tiiis city shall Lamb are the temple of it. 7 These 
 have no temple. . , 1 , .. . , 
 
 words do, in my present light, point 
 at the end of the days of this Jerusalem here in 
 this world : and in so doing they signify to us, 
 that when she is built, she shall stand and continue 
 in this her glorious state afore-mentioned- even 
 
 until that glory be swallowed up of that which doth 
 excel. That they do point at the end of her day in 
 this world, I do gather from these particulars:— 
 
 First. Because they are the last words of tho 
 description of her glory,—that is, these and the 
 words ensuing, which is but one and the same 
 continued speech; and it is easy to conclude that 
 John, in this description of this city, doth, from 
 first to last, even from the first appearing of her 
 as she cometh out of Babylon till she be perfect in 
 glory, give us the relation of it. First, I say, 
 showing us her descending, then her building, and 
 afterward the glory of that building ; at the end of 
 which also he showeth to us with what glory he 
 will crown this glory, even by swallowing of her up 
 with a far more exceeding and eternal weight of 
 glory. 
 
 Second, Because in these words he doth abso¬ 
 lutely cut off all and every whit of her outward 
 and external glory; that is, as to outward ordin¬ 
 ances and temple-worship, which yet was to be 
 most famous for a long time in this new and goodly 
 city; which he verifies in the eleventh chapter of 
 this prophecy, which chapter is a summary col¬ 
 lecting of the church in her fall and rise under 
 Antichrist, which church there in her rise is this 
 city here in her glory in this world. He tells us 
 there, I say, that when the kingdoms of this world 
 were become the kingdoms of the Lord, and of 
 his Christ, that ‘then the temple of God was 
 opened in heaven;’ that is, temple-worship under 
 the gospel recovered into its former and primitive 
 state and purity, in which it was before the com¬ 
 ing in of the man of sin. Re. xi. 15-19, compared with XV. 8. 
 Which temple he here utterly shutteth out, saying, 
 ‘ I saw no temple therein;’ in the room of which 
 he setteth the presence of the Lord Jesus, and 
 God his Father, making them to stand and be in 
 the room of temple and gospel-worship, in that 
 manner as it is used while we here live in the flesh. 
 ‘ For the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are 
 the temple of it . 7 It is true, the Lord God Al¬ 
 mighty and the Lamb are the temple of this 
 church in her lowest condition, therefore much 
 more when she is brought into the condition that 
 she is in at her rebuilding; but yet, neither in her 
 low estate, nor yet in her highest, is it proper to 
 say, that so long as she is in this world, God will 
 be a temple to her, in opposition to her temple 
 and gospel-worship, in outward and New Testa¬ 
 ment administrations. Wherefore when he saitli 
 He ‘saw no temple therein , 7 and that from this 
 reason, because ‘the Lord God Almighty and the 
 Lamb are the temple of it;’ he must needs aim at 
 a state to which the church cannot attain until 
 her Lord comes. For then will that which is per¬ 
 fect be come, and that which is in part be done 
 away. 1 Cor, xiii. 10. 
 
 ✓ 
 
440 
 
 TIIE IIOLY CITY, OPv 
 
 Now tliat the temple in this place excluded, can 
 signify nothing else but the outward 
 
 What tins ex- ° ~ r n m i • i • r 
 
 eluded temple orderly way of God s worship, which 
 
 signifies. sa i n t s ought with conscience, in 
 
 faith, to be found in till their Lord comes, con¬ 
 sider that our New Testament doth use the word 
 ‘temple ’ three several ways: 1. For the outward 
 order and worship or discipline of the Gospel. 
 Re. xi. 1 - 3 . 2. For the body of Christ, which is his 
 
 church, &c. 3. And lastly, For the Lord God 
 
 Almighty and the Lamb, which here are said to be 
 the temple of this city. 
 
 Now then, when he saitli he saw ‘ No temple 
 therein,’ he cannot exclude the Lord God Almighty 
 and the Lamb, for they are here said to be ‘ the 
 temple of it.’ Neither can he shut out the church, 
 which is the body of Christ, for that is the city 
 itself; yea, and the church shall be God’s temple, 
 and God and Christ the temple of the church for 
 ever and ever. He must therefore by this word 
 ‘no temple,’ exclude only the outward way of 
 gospel-worship, in which the saints in the times of 
 the New Testament both meet and edify each 
 other, and also meet their God, and are blessed 
 and refreshed by him. Again, that this outward 
 gospel-worship should be laid aside ■while the 
 church is in this world, before her Lord doth 
 come to be enjoyed by her, as touching his per¬ 
 sonal presence; it looks too like ranting opinions, 
 and contradiction to Scripture, for me to believe, 
 l Cor. xi. 26 . For when he comes, but not till then, 
 shall these things be laid aside. 
 
 Besides, that which yet confirms me more fully 
 in this opinion, is because herein this New Jeru¬ 
 salem doth most exactly answer the city and 
 temple, which was built after the captivity; which 
 city and temple being once built, it stood till 
 Christ our Lord did visit them in his own per¬ 
 sonal coming the first time; as the prophets also 
 said it should. ‘ The Lord, whom ye seek,’ saith 
 one, * shall suddenly come to his temple, even the 
 messenger of the covenant, whom ye delight in; 
 behold, he shall come, saith the Lord of Hosts.’ 
 Mai. iii. l. And again, ‘ I will shake all nations, 
 and the desire of all nations shall come; and I 
 will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of 
 Hosts.’ Wherefore ‘the glory of this latter house 
 shall be greater than [that] of the former, saith 
 the Lord of Hosts: and in this place will I give 
 peace, saith the Lord of Hosts.’ Hag. ii. 7,9. 
 
 Now observe, that from the time of the build¬ 
 ing of the second temple to the coming of Christ, 
 the worship of the temple order was to be by all 
 most devoutly and continually observed. But 
 when the Lord Jesus was come, and had estab¬ 
 lished his own more honourable and New Testa¬ 
 ment dispensation, then all the former temple- 
 worship fell to the ground, and became, with all 
 
 the instruments of worship that thereunto belonged, 
 null and void. Yea, and it was a derogation to 
 his gospel to offer to uphold that former way of 
 worship, after he had by his own personal pre¬ 
 sence and Spirit brought in that other dispensa¬ 
 tion. All which, I say, will be answered by our 
 second and New Testament New Jerusalem. For 
 as the Old Jerusalem was built after the Jews 
 were come out of literal Babylon, so is our New 
 Jerusalem built after our coming out of the anti- 
 christian oppression of spiritual Babylon. Again, 
 as that city did after she was built continue and 
 retain her temple-worship, until the personal ap¬ 
 pearing of Christ the first time, so New Jerusalem 
 shall retain and hold her outward New Testa¬ 
 ment worship till He comes in person the second 
 time. After all which, as the second temple was 
 swallowed up of a more heavenly and spiritual 
 dispensation by the personal presence of Christ, 
 so shall also the New Jerusalem temple-worship 
 be swallowed up by the glory of the appearing of 
 the person of Christ the second time; as Paul 
 saith, for he speaks in the person of Christ, ‘ Till 
 I come, give attendance to reading, to exhortation, 
 to doctrine,’ &c. lTim. iv. 13. 
 
 Thus then, when this holy city doth once again 
 appear upon the stage, and in her own situation, 
 and when she hath been showed in the attire of a 
 queen before the face of all nations, and their 
 kings; and when she hath by the glory of the 
 light of her New Testament temple, gathered, as 
 with a net, the number of God’s elect; then she is 
 taken into her husband’s privy chamber, where 
 she and he alone shall be in that blessed fellow¬ 
 ship and communion that shall not again be once 
 eclipsed, or in the least interrupted to eternity. 
 
 Thus have I showed you my present light into 
 this portion of the Holy Scripture. If any can 
 give me further, I hope I shall not refuse it. But 
 as yet, methinks this should be the genuine sense 
 of this place, and is the very track of John him¬ 
 self. For after he had seen the wall for present 
 safety, the foundations for continuation, the gates 
 for entrance, and the like, then he comes to tell 
 us of the glory of all, and of the street itself at 
 last; which indeed is the last and end of all the 
 order of God, and to continue till an end be put 
 to it by mortality’s being swallowed up of life. 
 As is yet more fully showed you in the next verse 
 of this description. 
 
 [The city needs not the light of sun or moon.] 
 
 Yerse 23. ‘ And the city had no need of the sun, 
 neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory 
 of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light 
 thereof. ’ 
 
 ‘And the city had no need of the sun.’ That 
 is, after temple-worship is over: this verse is added 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 441 
 
 therefore for farther clearing up and illustrating 
 of that which he said before. There he tells us 
 this city had ‘no temple,’ and here he tells us she 
 needed neither the light of the sun or moon. 
 There he said, ‘ The Lord God Almighty and the 
 Lamb are the temple of itand here he saith, 
 they are the light thereof. The substance of 
 which, in the language of the Holy Ghost, is this: 
 the reason why temple-worship is now gone and 
 over, it is because there is now no need in this 
 city of the light of the sun and the moon; and the 
 reason why she hath now no need of them, is be¬ 
 cause the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are 
 to it instead of both temple and light. ‘ For the 
 Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple 
 of it.’ ‘ For the glory of God did lighten it, and 
 the Lamb is the light thereof.’ Whereby we may 
 note, that though the light in which she descended, 
 being the purity of temple-worship, was glorious, 
 yet this city shall, when she is once built, so 
 advance from glory to glory, that at the last she 
 shall be more happy without the help of that light, 
 without which she had been for ever unbuilt, than 
 she was by it in the midst of the fulness of it. 
 
 ‘And the city had no need of the sun,’ &c. 
 The word sun is in Scripture taken divers ways; 
 sometimes for the true and natural sun in the fir¬ 
 mament; sometimes again for persecution, and 
 the rage of the enemy, &c. Jos. x. 12 . Mat. xiii. 6. But 
 1 take ‘sun’ here not to be any of these, but for 
 the good and pure word of the gospel of Christ, 
 unfolded, opened, and explained by the servants 
 of Christ; which sun is the same that before you 
 find to be darkened by the Antichristian fog and 
 mist, which was darkened, I say, even to a third 
 part of it. Re. viii. 12 ; ix. 2 . This sun, or word of the 
 gospel, Paul saith it is shadowed forth even by 
 that which sliineth in the firmament of heaven, 
 because as that by its light and shining, giveth to 
 those that have eyes, to see the glory and excel¬ 
 lency of this world; so by the shining and light 
 of the gospel is given ‘the light of the knowledge 
 of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ,’ 
 and a view of the excellency of the things of the 
 world to come. 2 Cor. iv. 3— 6 . Now, I say, though 
 while the church is in this world, and on this side 
 the state of glory, she cannot live and flourish 
 without the shining of this sun, but would be life¬ 
 less and lightless, and without all heat and com¬ 
 fort—for it is the entrance of the law that giveth 
 light here, and that lighteneth the eyes, ‘making 
 wise the simple.’ Ps. xix. 7 , 8; cxix. 130 — -yet at the day 
 of the coming of her Lord in person she shall see 
 far more clearly without the thus shining of the 
 sun than ever she did or could see with and by 
 it. ‘ And the city had no need of the sun.’ For 
 when by the light of it the whole body of the 
 elect have found out the way to this city, and 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 when they have also by this light accomplished 
 and fulfilled all their work; yea, when the Lord 
 himself is come, and doth immediately communi¬ 
 cate far more glorious light to this city without it 
 than ever ho did by it; what need is there then of 
 the light of this sun? for that is to be of use but 
 for the time present, even until the whole of the 
 body of the Lord Jesus is come to the perfect 
 measure, even ‘ to the measure of the stature of 
 the fulness of Chrfst.’ Ep. iv. 10 — 12 . So then, when 
 the body of Christ is in every sense completed in 
 this life by the light of the sunshine of his holy 
 gospel, what need of this sun ? And hence it is 
 that the word of the gospel is called ‘ the word of 
 reconciliation,’ ‘the word of faith,’ and ‘the words 
 of this life.’ 2Cor. v. 19 . Ro. x. 8. Ac. v. 20 . Wherefore, 
 
 I say, it ceaseth when there is no more to be 
 reconciled, and when faith in all is perfected, and 
 when this life is put an end unto by the coming in 
 of another. For ‘ when that which is perfect is 
 come, then that which is in part shall be done 
 away. ’ 1 Co. xiii. 8—10. 
 
 The ministers of the gospel are of use so long 
 as there is either elect to be converted, or any con¬ 
 verted soul to be perfected by that measure of per¬ 
 fection that God hath appointed on this side glory; 
 but when this work is done, their ministry ceaseth. 
 Wherefore, though like the widow’s sons, they are 
 busy to borrow vessels for the oil so long as it is 
 running, and emptying itself out of the great and 
 principal barrel; yet when it ceaseth, as it will do, 
 when there are no more vessels to be found, then 
 let them sit down as they, and receive of the 
 fruits of their labour, for the reward of their work 
 is then only to be enjoyed by them. 2 K 1 . iv. 1 - 6 . 
 
 ‘ And the city had no need of the sun, neither 
 of the moon to shine in it.’ This word moon also, 
 as well as that of the sun, is to be taken divers 
 ways in the Scriptures of truth; sometimes for the 
 natural one, sometimes for the world and persecu¬ 
 tors, &lc. Jos. x. 13 . Re. xii. i. Ps. exxi. 6. But moon here 
 is to be taken for the church of God, with refer¬ 
 ence to her life, conversation, duties, and exem¬ 
 plary behaviour, in which she is conversant on this 
 side glory; according to that of the Song, ‘ Who 
 is she that looketli forth as the morning, fair as the 
 moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army 
 with banners?’ Ca. vi. 10 . When he saith, then, that 
 at this day there shall be here no need of the 
 shining light of the moon, he means that this city 
 at this day, in the state she is in when she hath 
 the person of the Lamb in her, then she shall have^^Ac^. 
 no need of the growth of Christianity, for they 
 shall be all perfect; nor no need of mortification, 
 for there shall be no sin. They shall not need now, 
 as in time past, to exhort and encourage one an¬ 
 other to stick fast to the promise, for they shall 
 be swallowed up of life and open vision. 2 Co. v. 4 . 
 
 56 
 
442 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 Here sliall he no need either of prayer, of repent¬ 
 ance, of faith, or of good works, as afore. ‘ And 
 the city had no need of the sun, neither of the 
 moon to shine in it.’ 
 
 Now, I say, the Holy Ghost is pleased to bring 
 in here the shining virtues of the church under the 
 notion of a shining moon, because, as the church 
 herself is compared to the moon, so her virtues are 
 as naturally compared to a shining light; as Christ 
 saith, ‘Let your light so shihe,’ Mat.v. 16; and 
 again, ‘ Let your loins be girded about, and youv 
 lights burning. ’ Lu. xii. 35. Phi. ii. 15. For, indeed, while 
 
 r 1 ♦ f we are here, that church and congre- 
 1 he light of the _ . . 
 
 church compared gation of the Lord doth most shine, 
 
 the mooujupon, a and most seud forth the golden lays 
 double account. an( j pi easan t beams of Christianity, 
 
 that is most in the exercise of the afore-mentioned 
 virtues. Take away the moon, and the night is 
 doubtful; or though the moon be in the firmament, 
 if she hath lost her light, the night is not thereby 
 made more comfortable. And thus, I say, it is 
 first with the world, where here there is no church 
 to shine, or where there is a church that doth not 
 so shine that others may see and be lighted. For 
 while the day of time doth last, even the world 
 itself hath need of the shining of the church; but 
 at this day this time will be no longer, because the 
 day of eternity will break, and by that means cause 
 the world that now is, even the world of the un¬ 
 godly, to cease to have a being here any longer. 
 Therefore now no need of the moon, or of the light 
 thereof, to shine before that which is not. 1 
 
 Second. Again, as the church is in her light 
 before men as the moon is in her light in the night 
 to the world, so, as I said before, this city which 
 is called also heaven, she, even she, shall have no 
 need of these things, for she shall be taken up in 
 open vision, and shall be completely delivered from 
 all imperfection; she shall not need now the light 
 of her children to provoke her and to stir her up 
 to this or the other act of holiness; all shall be 
 done, all shall be complete, the Lord himself is 
 come. Indeed, while Christ is absent as touching 
 his person, and Avhile the work of God is not yet 
 completely done in the church, there will be need 
 both of the light of sun and moon, but when the 
 work is done, and he come, then these things will 
 be out of use. Thus ‘ the path of the just is as 
 the shining liglit, that shineth more and more unto 
 the perfect day.’ Pr. iv. 18. 
 
 ‘For the glory of God did lighten it, and the 
 Lamb is the light thereof.’ This is rendered 
 as the reason why at this day both the light of the 
 sun and moon are needless; it is because ‘ the 
 glory of God did lighten it,’ and because ‘ the 
 Lamb is the light thereof.’ Now the glory of God 
 
 must be understood in this place, not of that glory 
 that doth attend the church in this world, for that 
 glory doth attend the church upon the account of 
 her purity of worship, of temple-worship, and doth 
 either abide on her, or withdraw itself, according 
 to her exact observing the rule, or declining from 
 it, as I have showed you in the begin- * See the expo . 
 ning of this discourse.* But the glory JfjJ n ve j£ e the 
 that here you read of, it is a glory that 
 supplieth this city without those ordinances; yea, 
 therefore, those ordinances, as the temple and the 
 light of the sun and moon, do cease because of the 
 glory of this glory that now is come into this city. 
 
 ‘ The city had no need of the sun, neither of the 
 moon to shine in it,’ mark, ‘for the glory of God 
 did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. 
 
 Wherefore, I say, this glory that now he speaks 
 of, it is the glory that shall possess this city at the 
 end of her glory in this world; wherefore, as saith 
 the Holy Ghost by Isaiah the prophet, from this 
 day forward, ‘ The sun shall be no more thy light 
 by day, neither for brightness shall the moon give 
 light unto thee; but the Lord shall be unto thee 
 an everlasting light, and thy God thy glory. Is. lx. 19. 
 
 ‘For the glory of God did lighten it, &c. Thus 
 it was at the finishing of the tabernacle in the 
 wilderness, and of the temple at Jerusalem ; botli 
 which were figures, in their finishing, of the finishing 
 of the state of the church in this world; and it is 
 said of them, that in the day when they in all 
 things were accomplished, according to the fashion 
 that was revealed before concerning their order 
 and accomplishment, that then the glory of God 
 so appeared upon them, that neither Moses nor 
 Aaron was able to enter in, or to stand therein, 
 because of the cloud, and of the glory of the Lord 
 that at that time filled the house. Ex. xi. 33, 34. l Ki. 
 viii. io, ii. Thus you see this city descends in one 
 measure of glory, and is consummate in another 
 measure of glory. The glory of the Lord was 
 upon the mount Sinai while the pattern of the 
 tabernacle was giving, but it rested on the taber¬ 
 nacle when the work thereof was finished; to sig¬ 
 nify, I say, that the glory of God will rest in his 
 ordinances, and in his church by them, so long as 
 ordinances are in use ; but when they are needless, 
 then it will rest in the church without them, and 
 that more gloriously than ever it therein did lest 
 by them. 
 
 ‘ For the glory of God did lighten it, and the 
 Lamb is the light thereof.’ Mark, though now 
 there shall be no need of temple, sun, oi moon, 
 yet Christ the Lamb, or the Man who was offered 
 in sacrifice for our redemption, shall be of use and 
 benefit \ ‘ for the glory ol God did lighten it, and 
 the Lamb is the light thereof. Wherefore, all 
 that we who are the saved shall enjoy of glory and 
 sweetness in another world, though we shall not 
 
 1 There being no night there but perpetual day.—(E d.) 
 
TTIE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 443 
 
 enjoy it from Coil through Christ, hy and in the 
 ordinances, yet we shall enjoy it through Christ the 
 Lamb without them ; ‘for the Lamb is the light 
 of it.’ By this word Lamb, he would have us 
 understand that when we are in glory, the blood, 
 death, and bloody conquest that the man Christ did 
 get over our infernal enemies, will be of eternal 
 use to us; because that benefit of Christ shall not 
 only for ever be the foundation of our eternal feli¬ 
 city, but the burden of our song of glory in all our 
 raptures among the angels. Re. v. 9 . It will be the 
 blood, the blood, the redeeming blood of the Lamb. 
 
 4 Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power he 
 unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto 
 the Lamb for ever and ever.’ Re. v. 13 . It is he in 
 whom will be found the seven eyes, the seven spirits 
 of God, in whose light we shall see the heights 
 and depths of those springs and everlasting foun¬ 
 tains and depths of glory for ever; and, indeed, 
 the conceit of the contrary is foolish. Zec.iii.9. Re.v.6*. 
 Is not Christ the head, and we the members? and 
 do not the members receive their whole light, guid¬ 
 ance, and wisdom from it ? Is not he also the 
 price, the ground, and bottom of our happiness, 
 both in this world and that which is to come ? 
 And is it possible it should be forgotten, or that, 
 by it, our joy, light, and heaven should not be 
 made the sweeter to all eternity ? Our soul is 
 now bound up in him, as in a bundle of life. 1 Sa. 
 xxv. 29 . And when we come thither, he is still the 
 Christ, our life; and it is by our being where he 
 is that we shall behold his glory and our glory, 
 because he is glorified. Col. m. 3 , 4 . Jn. xvii. 24 . ‘ For 
 
 the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is 
 the light thereof.’ As he said, ‘Ye now therefore 
 have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your 
 heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from 
 you.’ Jn. xvi. 22 . 
 
 Thus much of this city, her descending, her 
 fashion, her glory, and of her wading through 
 glory, from glory to glory. 
 
 [Fourth, the inhabitants of the city, their 
 
 QUALITY, AND NUMEROUSNESS.] 
 
 Yer. 24. ‘ And the nations of them which are 
 saved shall walk in the light of it; and the kings 
 of the earth do bring their glory and honour into 
 it.’ After this long and pleasant description of 
 tLis holy aud new Jerusalem, the Holy Ghost now 
 falleth upon a relation of the people that shall be 
 the inhabitants of this city, and of their numerous¬ 
 ness and quality. 
 
 ‘And the nations,’ &c. The nations of the 
 world, both of the Jews and Gentiles. 
 
 Every one knoweth what the nations are, where¬ 
 fore I need not stay upon the explication of that, 
 for it doth in general include the multitude of the 
 
 sinners of the world. Ep. n. 1 - 3 . 1 Co. vi. 9 - 11 . Tit. m. 3 . 
 Therefore, when ho saith, the nations shall walk 
 in the light of this city, it is as if he had said, 
 that at this day, when she is here in her tranquillity, 
 the sinners and disobedient among the sons of men 
 shall by multitudes and whole kingdoms come in 
 and close with the church and house of God. 
 These spiders shall take hold with their hands, and 
 be in kings’ palaces. Pr. xxx. 28 . 
 
 ‘And the natiyns,’ &c. For this word, ‘ the 
 nations,’ is a great word, and it com- Howthenations 
 prehendeth much; mark, it doth not ^‘ e 1 ^ 1 j , e c r k us ! l ° 
 say a nation, or some nations, neither lem - 
 doth it say few or small nations, but indefinitely, 
 the nations, many nations, strong nations, all 
 nations, the nations in general; only he ties them 
 up with this limit, the nations of them that are 
 saved. Is. m. 15 ; lx. 22 ; ii. 2 . Which yet is not so much 
 spoken to clip off the multitude that we suppose 
 may then be converted, as to show us their quali¬ 
 fications and happiness ; as he saith by the prophet 
 in another place, Thy children shall be all holy, 
 or righteous, ‘ and great shall be the peace of thy 
 children. ’ is. Uv. 13 ; lx, 21 . ‘ And the nations of them 
 
 which are saved shall walk in the light of it.’ 
 Surely the Holy Ghost would never have spoken at 
 such a rate as this, if he had not intended to show 
 us that at the day of the setting up of this Jeru¬ 
 salem, a great harvest of sinners shall be gathered 
 by the grace of the gospel. But the truth is, the 
 Scriptures go with open arms towards the latter 
 end of the world, even as if they would grasp and 
 compass about almost all people then upon the face 
 of the whole earth with the grace and mercy of 
 God. * The earth,’ saith God, * shall be full of 
 the knowledge ’ of the glory ‘ of the Lord, as the 
 waters cover the sea. ’ is. xi. 9 . Hab. ii. 14. As he saith, 
 also, for the comfort of the church in another place, 
 * Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of 
 my hands, thy walls are continually before me. 
 Thy children shall make haste ; thy destroyers and 
 they that made thee waste shall go forth of thee. 
 Lift up thine eyes round about, and behold : all 
 these gather themselves together, and come to 
 thee. As I live, saith the Lord, thou shalt surely 
 clothe thee with them all, as with an ornament, 
 and bind them on thee, as a bride cloeth. For thy 
 waste and thy desolate places, and the land of thy 
 destruction, shall even now be too narrow by reason 
 of the inhabitants, and they that swallowed thee 
 up shall be far away. The children which thou 
 shalt have, after thou hast lost the other, shall 
 say again in thine ears, The place is to strait for 
 me; give place to me, that I may dwell. Then 
 shalt thou say in thine heart. Who hath begotten 
 me these, seeing I have lost my children, and am 
 desolate, a captive and removing to and fro? and 
 who hath brought up these? Behold, 1 was left 
 
444 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 alone, these, where had they beenV is. xiix. 16 —21. 
 Thus the multitudes of the nations shall at this day 
 he converted to the Lord, and be made the inhabi¬ 
 tants of this Jerusalem ; as he saith again, ‘The 
 kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of 
 our Lord and of his Christ.’ Re.xi. 15. And again, 
 
 * The kingdom and dominion, and the greatness of 
 the kingdom under the whole heaven, shall be given 
 to the people of the saints of the Most High, whos'e 
 kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and all do¬ 
 minions shall serve and obey him.’ Da. vii.27. 
 
 And observe it, these promises are to be fulfilled 
 in .the last days, at the time of the pouring forth 
 of the last vial, which is the time of the sounding 
 of the last of the seven trumpets; for then this 
 city shall be built, and Lucifer fallen from heaven; 
 then the prisoners shall be set at liberty, and the 
 people be gathered together, ‘ and the kingdoms 
 to serve the Lord.’ Is.ii. 1 , 2 ; xiv. 4 — 6 . Ps. cii. 20—22. Re. 
 xi. 15 — 17 . ‘ Rejoice, 0 ye nations, with his people, 
 
 for he will avenge the blood of his servants, and 
 will render vengeance to his adversaries, and will 
 be merciful unto his land, and to his people.’ De. 
 xxxii. 43 . Alas ! it is now towards the end of the 
 world, and therefore now all is going, if the Lord 
 steps not in with the riches of his grace. Where¬ 
 fore now at last, before all be turned into fire and 
 ashes, behold the Lord casts the net among the 
 multitude of fish, and the abundance of the sea 
 shall, without fail, be converted to Jerusalem. 
 Is. lx. 5. Though Satan and Antichrist have had 
 their day in the world, and by their outrage have 
 made fearful havoc of the souls of sinners from 
 time to time, yet now at length God will strike in 
 for a share with them, and his Son ‘ shall divide 
 the spoil with the strong.’ Is.liii. 12 . Wherefore he 
 now sets up this city, puts the glory of heaven 
 upon her, provides a new heaven and a new earth 
 for her situation, Is. lxvi. 22 ; drives profaneness into 
 the holes and dens of the earth ; givetli righteous¬ 
 ness authority to reign in the world, 2 Pe. m. 13; and 
 takes off the veil from all faces, that none may 
 hereafter be for ever beguiled by blindness and 
 ignorance, is. xxv. 7 . Now shall they make merry 
 with the things of God; now shall all eat the fat 
 and drink the sweet. 1 Ki. iv. 20. Ne. viii. 10 , 12 . For ‘in 
 this mountain shall the Lord of hosts make unto 
 all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wines on 
 the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wines on 
 the lees well refined.’ is. xxv. 6 . 
 
 ‘ And the nations of them which are saved shall 
 walk in the light of it. ’ They ‘ shall walk in the 
 light of it.’ That is, in the light that is in it 
 while it is in its purity in this world, and in the 
 glory of it when it is in its perfection and immor¬ 
 tality in another. Whence note by the way, that 
 in the midst of all this glory, or while the glorious 
 light of the gospel shall thus shine in the world, 
 
 yet even then there will be some also that will not 
 see and rejoice in the glory hereof. But as for 
 those, whoever they are, they are excluded from a 
 share in the blessed and goodly privileges of this 
 city. ‘ The nations of them which are saved shall 
 walk in the light of it. ’ 
 
 ‘And the kings of the earth do bring their glory 
 and honour into it.’ By these words are great 
 things held forth. He told us before that the 
 nations of them that are saved shall walk in the 
 light of it; and here he tells us that How the kings of 
 even their kings also, the kings of the flock 6 hito New 
 earth, do bring their honour and glory Jerusalem, 
 to it. The people of the nations they are but like 
 to single pence and halfpence, but their kings like 
 gold angels and twenty-shilling pieces. 1 Where¬ 
 fore, when he saith that the kings of the earth do 
 bring their glory and honour unto it, it argueth 
 that the gospel and the grace of God, when it is 
 displayed in its own nature, and seen in its own 
 complexion, even then they that have most of the 
 honour and glory of the world will yet stoop their 
 top-gallant 2 unto it. ‘ Because of thy temple 
 which is at Jerusalem, shall kings bring presents 
 unto tliee.’ Ps. lxviii. 29. is. xiix. 22 ,23. ‘The kings of 
 Tarshish, and of the isles, shall bring presents’ to 
 thee: ‘ the kings of Sheba and Seba shall offer 
 gifts. Yea, all kings shall fall down before him; 
 all nations shall serve him.’ Ps. lxxii. 10 ,11 . The kings 
 shall see and arise, and ‘ princes also shall wor¬ 
 ship because of the Lord,’ &c. is. xiix. 7 . The kings 
 shall come to thy light, and princes to the bright¬ 
 ness of thy rising, is. lx. 1—5. ‘ The Gentiles shall 
 
 see thy righteousness, and all kings thy glory.’ 
 is. lxii. 2 . Yea, ‘ that which had not been told them 
 shall they see, and that which they have not heard 
 shall they consider.’ is. lii. 15 . ‘ All the kings of the 
 
 earth shall praise thee, 0 Lord, when they hear 
 the words of thy mouth. Yea, they shall sing in 
 the ways of the Lord: for great is the glory of the 
 Lord.’ Ps. cxxxviii. 4 ,5. Thus, we see, that though in 
 the first day of the gospel, the poor, the halt, the 
 lame, and the blind are chief in the embracing of 
 the tenders of grace, yet in the latter day thereof 
 God will take hold of kings. 
 
 ‘ And the kings of the earth do bring their glory 
 and honour into it.’ Into it; that is, to Jeru¬ 
 salem. Wherefore this city must be built before 
 they all of them will fall in love with her. Indeed, 
 I do conceive that some of them will lay their hand 
 to help forward the work of this city, as did Hiram 
 
 1 A ‘gold angel’ was an early English coin, valued at one- 
 third of a pound, afterwards increased to ten shillings. The 
 * twenty-shilling piece’ was the old sovereign. The compari¬ 
 son between them and the silver pence and halfpennies was 
 made hy Bunyan in respect to their rarity and not their purity. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 - ‘ To stoop or lower the top gallant’ is a mode of saluta¬ 
 tion and respect shown by ships at sea to each other.— (Ed.) 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 445 
 
 with Solomon, and Darius, Cyrus, and Artaxerxes, 
 with Ezra and Nehemiah, at the building and re¬ 
 pairing the city, in the letter, in the days of old. 
 2 Ch. ii. 11—15. Ezr. i. 1 —4; vi. 1—3; vii. 21. Blit yet, I Say, 
 the great conquest of the kings will be by the 
 beauty and glory of this city, when she is built. 
 
 ‘ Thou shalt arise,’ 0 Lord, ‘ and have mercy upon 
 Zion ; for the time to favour her, yea, the set time 
 is come. For thy servants take pleasure in her 
 stones, and favour the dust thereof. So the hea¬ 
 then shall fear the name of the Lord, and all kings 
 thy glory.’ ?s.cii. 13— 15 . And, indeed, before this 
 city is set up, and established in her own place, 
 most of the kings and great ones of the earth will 
 be found employed and taken up in another work, 
 than to fall in love with Mount Zion, and with the 
 hill thereof. They will be found in love with mis¬ 
 tress Babylon, the mother of harlots, the mistress 
 of witchcrafts, and abominations of the earth. 
 Re. xvii. 2 , 12—14; xviii. 3,9. They will, I say, be com¬ 
 mitting fornication with her, and will be as the 
 horns upon the heads of the beast, to defend the 
 riding lady from the gunshot that the saints con¬ 
 tinually will be making at her by the force of the 
 Word and Spirit of God. They will be shaking 
 the sharp end of their weapons against the Son of 
 God, continually labouring to keep him out of his 
 throne, and from having that rule in the church, 
 and in the world, as becomes him who is the head 
 of the body, and over all principality and powder. 
 
 ‘ These shall make war with the Lamb.’ Re. xvii. 14. 
 But, I say, it shall so come about at the last, by 
 the illuminating grace of God, and by the faithful 
 and patient enduring of the saints, together with 
 the glory that everywhere shall now be abiding on 
 the church and congregation of Jesus, that they 
 shall begin to receive a man’s heart, and shall 
 consider things that have not been told them ; 
 wherefore at last they shall withdraw themselves ! 
 from the love of this mistress, and shall leave her 
 to scrape for herself in the world, and shall come 
 with repentance and rejoicing to Zion; nay, not 
 only so, but to avenge the quarrel of God, and the 
 vengeance of his temple; and to recompense her 
 also for the delusions and enchantments wherewith 
 she hath entangled them. ‘ These shall hate her, 
 and they shall make her desolate and naked, and 
 shall eat her flesh, and burn her with fire.’ Re.xvii. 16. 
 
 Now, madam, what sayest thou ? The kings 
 must come to Jerusalem, Jezebel. Thy chamber 
 companions will shortly, notwithstanding thy painted 
 face, cast thee down headlong out at the windows. 
 
 \ ea, they shall tread thee in pieces by the feet of 
 their prancing horses, and with the wheels of their 
 jumping chariots. 2 Ki. ix. 30 — 33 . They shall shut up 
 all bowels of compassion towards thee, and shall 
 roar upon thee like the sea, and upon thy fat ones 
 like the waves thereof. Je. 1 . 41 , 42 . Yba, when they 
 
 begin, they will also make an end, and will leave 
 thee so harbourless and comfortless, that now there 
 will be found for thee no gladness at all, no, not 
 so much as one piper to play thee one jig. The 
 delicates that thy soul lusted after, thou shalt find 
 them no more at all. Re. xviii. 12 — 22 . ‘ Babylon the 
 
 glory of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldees’ 
 excellency, shall be as when God overthrew Sodom 
 and Gomorrah. It shall never be inhabited, neither 
 shall it be dwelt in from generation to generation; 
 neither shall the Arabian pitch tent there, neither 
 shall the shepherds make their fold there. But 
 wild beasts of the desert shall lie there, and their 
 houses shall be full of doleful creatures. And owls 
 shall dwell there, and satyrs* shall * TJmt . g t] 
 dance there. And the wild beasts of hobgoblins, or 
 the islands shall cry in their desolate ° h ‘ 
 houses, and dragons in their pleasant palaces; and 
 her time is near to come, and her days shall not 
 be prolonged.’ is. xiii. 19 —23. Thus wilt thou come 
 down wonderfully. For * in thee have they set 
 light by father and mother; in the midst of thee 
 have they dealt by oppression with the stranger: 
 in thee have they vexed the fatherless and the 
 widow. In thee are men that carry tales to shed 
 blood: and in thee they eat upon the mountains, 
 in the midst of thee they commit lewdness.’ Eze. 
 xxii. 6 — 10 . God hath smitten his hands at thy dis¬ 
 honest gain, and all the blood which hath been in 
 the midst of thee; God will be avenged of thee, 
 but will not meet thee as a man. is. xivii. 1 —3. You 
 ‘ have cast lots for my people, ’ saith God ; you 
 ‘ have given a boy for a harlot, and sold a girl for 
 wine, that they might drink.’ You have made 
 havoc of my young converts to satisfy your lusts; 
 therefore, ‘ What have ye to do with me, 0 Tyre 
 and Sidon, and all the coast of Palestine? Will 
 ye render me a recompence? And if ye recom- 
 ! pence me swiftly and speedily, will I return your 
 recompence upon your own head.’ Joeliii. 1 - 4 . I 
 will throw it as dirt in your face again. And 
 never talk of what thou wast once, for though thou 
 wast full of wisdom, and perfect in beauty, though 
 thou hast been in Eden, the garden of God, yea, 
 though every precious stone for some time was thy 
 covering, and thou the very anointed cherub that 
 coveretli, walking upon the mountain of God, and 
 in the midst of the stones of fire, yet because—by 
 reason of the multitude of thy merchandise—thou 
 hast sinned, and art filled with violence. ‘ There¬ 
 fore God will cast thee, as profane, out of the 
 mountain of God, and will destroy thee, 0 covering 
 cherub, from the midst of the stones of fire;’ yea, 
 he will cast thee to the ground, and lay thee before 
 kings, that they may behold thee. And ‘all they 
 that know thee among the people shall be aston¬ 
 ished at thee: thou shalt be a terror, and never 
 shalt thou he any more.’ Eze. xxviii. 12 - 19 . ‘And when 
 
446 
 
 THE TIOLY CITY, OE 
 
 v 
 
 t' 
 
 9 
 
 •J'f 
 
 I! 
 
 ut; 
 
 ‘In 
 
 3 
 
 ;3 
 
 a’lfl 
 
 > iH 
 
 i 
 
 !, - j n 
 
 iM 
 
 :i 
 
 thou art spoiled, what wilt tliou do? Though thou 
 cdothest thyself with crimson, though thou deckest 
 thee with ornaments of gold ; though thou rentest 
 thy face with painting, in vain slialt thou make 
 thyself fair, thy lovers will despise thee, they will 
 seek thy life.’ Je. iv. 30. 
 
 * And the kings of the earth do bring their 
 glory and their honour into it.’ Mark, they do 
 not only forsake the crimson harlot, neither do they 
 content themselves with eating her flesh and burn¬ 
 ing her with fire, but they come over, they come 
 over to Jerusalem; they are conquered by the 
 grace of Christ and wisdom of the Son of God. 
 They shall make war with the Lamb, hut the 
 Lamb shall overcome them, for he is King of 
 kino-s and Lord of lords, and those that are with 
 him are called, and chosen, and faithful. Now 
 they shall all give way to the government of the 
 King of kings, the governor of the Jews, Ezr. vi. 7. 
 and shall with gladness delight to see him rule his 
 spouse with his own law, rules, and testament; 
 they shall play the pranks of Jeroboam no longer, 
 in making calves to keep the people from going 
 up to Jerusalem to worship. Now they shall 
 count him also king of nations, as well as king of 
 saints; and he shall wear the crowns, and they shall 
 seek to him. Re. xix. 12, 15. Je. x. 7. Is. lii. 15. 2 Ch. ix. 23. 
 
 [7 lie city secure, the gates always o])en.\ 
 
 Ver. 25. * And the gates of it shall not be shut 
 at all by day for there shall be no night there.’ 
 
 This is the effect of Avhat you read before, 
 namely, of the coming in of the kings and great 
 ones of the earth to this Jerusalem. For when 
 the whore is made desolate and naked, and burned 
 with fire, and when the kings also that loved her, 
 and that maintained her, are come in, and have 
 closed with the glory and beauty of this city, then 
 what need is there to shut the gates ? Alas, all the 
 injuries that the kings and great ones of the earth 
 have done to the church and spouse of Christ in 
 these days of the New Testament, it hath been 
 through the instigation and witchcraft of this mis- 
 tress of iniquity. ‘ The horseman lifteth up both 
 the bright sword and the glittering spear.’ Na. m. 3, 4, 
 against the saints of God, by reason of the multi¬ 
 tudes of the whoredoms of the well-favoured harlot, 
 the mistress of witchcrafts, who selleth nations 
 through her whoredoms, and families through her 
 witchcrafts. Wherefore I say, this gentlewoman 
 being laid in her grave, and all her fat ones gone 
 down to the sides of the pit, these kings will 
 change their mind, and fall in love with the true 
 and chaste matron, and with Christ her Lord. 
 Now when this is thus, this city must needs be 
 safely inhabited as towns without walls, and as a 
 place near to which there is neither thief nor 
 raYeilOUS beast. Is. ii. 4. Je. xxxiii. 16. Zee. ii. 4j xiv. 11. 
 
 Persecutors, while they remain in their spirit of 
 outrage against the church and people of God, 
 they are frequently in the Scripture compared to 
 the venomous dragons, fierce lions, and ravenous 
 wolves. Je. ii. 34 , 37 . All which at this day shall be 
 driven out of the world, that is, so out, as never 
 to molest the church again, or to cause a gate of 
 this city to be shut, through fear, against them; 
 as he saith by the prophet, ‘ In the habitation of 
 dragons where each lay, shall he grass, with reeds 
 and rushes.’ Is. xxxv. 7 . In the habitation of dragons, 
 that is, even in the places of persecutors, where 
 each lay, shall be food for the flock of Christ. The 
 dragon is a venomous beast, and poisoneth all 
 where he lieth! He beats the earth bare, and 
 venoms it, that it will bear no grass, as do the 
 persecutors where they inhabit and lie. But 
 behold, the days do come in which these dragons 
 shall be removed, and the ground where they lay 
 be made fruitful and flourish, so that even there 
 shall be places for the flocks to lie down in. ‘ In 
 the habitation of dragons, where each lay, shall 
 he grass, with reeds and rushes. No lion shall be 
 there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon ; 
 but the redeemed of the Lord shall walk there, and 
 the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come 
 to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy upon their 
 heads; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and 
 sorrow and sighing shall flee away.’ Is. xxxv. 7 — 10 . 
 According to that of Moses, the Lord ‘ will give 
 peace in the land, and ye shall lie down, and none 
 shall make you afraid.’ For ‘ he will rid evil 
 beasts out of the land,’ and the sword shall not 
 go through it more. Le. xxvi. 6 . ‘ And my people 
 
 shall dwell in a peaceable habitation, and in sure 
 dwellings and in quiet resting-places.’ Is. xxxii. 18. 
 
 ‘ And the gates of it shall not be shut at all by 
 day, for there shall be no night there.’ This 
 word day we may understand two ways; either 
 for the day of bringing in to fill this city, or for 
 the day of her perfection and fulness. Now if you 
 take it with reference to the day in which her 
 converts are coming in, as indeed it ought, why 
 then, the gates shall not be shut at all. * Thy 
 gates shall be open continually, they shall not be 
 shut day nor night, that men may bring unto thee 
 the forces of the Gentiles, and that their kings may 
 he brought.’ Is. lx. 11. 
 
 But again, this day of grace, and of conversion 
 of sinners, it must be looked upon either as the 
 church is in captivity and persecution, or as she 
 is out. Now, as she is in captivity, so her long¬ 
 est day is usually accompanied with a black and 
 doubtful night of temptation and affliction. Where¬ 
 fore this day here being spoken of, it is the day 
 of grace that she shall have even when she is ab- 
 solutely delivered from the rage of the beast, false 
 prophet, and whore. Wherefore he is not content 
 
TIIE NEW JERUSALEM'. 
 
 447 
 
 to say, the gates shall not he shut at all by day, 
 but adds withal, ‘ for there shall be no night 
 there;’ as who should say, I know that com¬ 
 monly in the day of the church’s affliction she is 
 accompanied with nights as well as days, but it 
 shall not be so here; ‘ Thy sun shall no more go 
 down, neither shall thy moon withdraw itself; for 
 the Lord shall be thine everlasting light, and the 
 days of thy mourning shall be ended.’ is. lx. 20 . 
 
 Wherefore John, considering this, doth quite 
 exclude the night, saying, * There shall be no night 
 there.’ Indeed after this New Jerusalem hath 
 had her golden day in this world, I say, just 
 towards the ending thereof, she will yet once again 
 be beset with raging Gog and Magog, which ene¬ 
 mies will, after the long safety and tranquillity of 
 this city, through the instigation of the devil come 
 upon the breadth of the earth, and encamp about 
 this holy city. Eze. xxviii., xxix. But behold in the 
 midst of this intention to swallow her up, the Lord 
 rains fire and brimstone from heaven and destroys 
 them all; so that Gog, I say, though he may 
 bring one only evening upon this holy city after 
 her long peace and rest among the sons of men, 
 yet he shall not bring one night upon her, nor 
 cause a gate thereof to be shut for ever. The 
 sun shall now stand still in the midst of heaven, 
 and this night shall be thus prevented by this 
 marvellous judgment of God. Jos. x. As another 
 prophet saith, ‘ At evening time it shall be light.’ 
 Zee. xiv. 7 . That is, though her enemies will at last 
 still make, through their enmity, one only attempt 
 to swallow up all in everlasting oblivion, yet they 
 themselves shall fall down dead upon the moun¬ 
 tains of Israel, and be a prey to this Jerusalem. 
 Thus there will be only day accompanying the 
 inhabitants of this city, ‘For there shall be no 
 night there.’ 
 
 [ The glory and honour of the nations brought into it.] 
 
 Ver. 26. ‘ And they shall bring the glory and 
 honour of the nations into it.’ This, as I said 
 before, is to show us how heartily, and liow un- 
 feignedly, both the nations and their kings shall 
 now come over to New Jerusalem. They come 
 hand in hand, not the people without their prince, 
 nor the prince without his people, though it will, 
 and must be so, in the times of persecution; but 
 now, together * they shall bring the glory and 
 honour of the nations to it.’ 
 
 Again, I told you before that the Jews shall at 
 this day be converted to the Christian faith, and 
 shall have a great name and much of heaven upon 
 them in this city. For, indeed, they are the 
 first-born, the natural branches, and the like. 
 Now when he saith, they shall bring the glory 
 and honour of the nations to it, I cannot think 
 that by this should we understand only, or yet 
 
 principally, the outward pomp and treasure of the 
 world, but that rather by honour and glory we aro 
 here to understand the heavenly treasure and glory 
 that the saints shall continually pour forth into one 
 another’s bosoms in this city. In this city, I say, 
 for at this day, as I have formerly showed you, 
 there will be found no treasure any where but at 
 Jerusalem ; every saint shall be here, every grace 
 shall be here, the precious stones of the sanctuary, 
 the precious sons of Zion shall not then, as now, 
 lie scattered, some in the world, and some in mis¬ 
 tress Babylon’s lap; neither shall any thing per¬ 
 taining to the church’s privileges be found in her 
 at all for ever. There shall be heard no more 
 at all in her any harpers, trumpeters, pipers, or 
 any other heavenly music in her; neither shall 
 there be any more the sound of a millstone to 
 grind us bread, nor the light of a candle to guide 
 us in the house, nor yet the voice of the bride¬ 
 groom, Christ, nor of the bride his wife, to tempt 
 or allure any that are seeking the way of life, to 
 stay with her. Re. xviii. 22 , 23 . All these things shall 
 be brought to Jerusalem. 2 Ch. xxxvi. 7 . Christians, 
 you must understand that there is a time when all 
 the treasures of the church are to be found in 
 Babylon, as in the days of old; but at this day, 
 when this city is built, not any of them shall be 
 found there, but all shall be brought and delivered 
 up to Jerusalem again, as was also foreshown in 
 the type; and all places shall be void of the 
 treasure of heaven, but Jerusalem. Ezr.vi.i-6;vii.i3-i6. 
 
 Wherefore by the glory and honour of the 
 nations in this place, I understand that all the 
 treasures of the church, and all the graces that at 
 this day lie scattered here and there, some in one 
 place and some in another, they shall be found no 
 where at that day but in this city, in the church 
 that walks according to rule. Now the reasons 
 w r hy I take this honour and glory to be meant of 
 these things are— 
 
 First. Because thus it was in the time of the 
 building of Jerusalem after the captivity, the 
 treasure of the Jews, which was become the 
 treasures of the provinces of Babylon, was again 
 restored and brought to Jerusalem, as you may see 
 by the scriptures now cited. 
 
 Second. Because I find indeed, that the milk 
 and honey of the land of Canaan—which are, in 
 our gospel language, the gifts, graces, and treasures 
 of the church—it is called, ‘ The glory of all lands.* 
 Eze. xx. 6 . Now, I say, seeing the milk and honey, 
 which are the comforts of the church and her 
 treasure, is called * The glory of all lands,’ I take 
 glory and honour in this place to signify the samo 
 thing also. Ca. iv. 11 . 
 
 Third. Because also I find, by comparing the 
 prophets, that the Christian’s glory and honour 
 lietli mostly, even principally, in heavenly and 
 
448 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 spiritual things; as in faith, love, experience of 
 God, of grace, of Christ, and spiritual life. I read 
 that, at the building of this city, the Jews and 
 Gentiles shall meet together, and that at that day 
 they shall mutually be partakers of each other’s 
 glory. The Gentiles ‘ shall milk out, and be 
 delighted in the abundance of the glory ’ of the 
 Jews: and the glory of the Gentiles shall be again 
 extended unto the Jews like a mighty flowing 
 stream, is. lxvi. 10 - 13 . But I say that this glory and 
 honour should consist in outward things, or that 
 the glory that is merely carnal should be princi¬ 
 pally here intended, I confess it grates too near 
 the ground for me to believe or rejoice in it. Alas, 
 I find that those souls that have not now the tenth 
 part of the spirit and life of heavenly things that 
 shall then be poured forth; I say, I find that these 
 are trampling on the world, and disdain the thoughts 
 of being taken with its glory. Wherefore much 
 less will it be esteemed in that day, when the glory 
 and goodness of God shall in that manner break 
 forth. Again, can it be imagined that the chief 
 of the glory that the Gentiles should bring to the 
 Jews after a sixteen hundred years warming in the 
 bosom of Christ; I say, is it imaginable that 
 the great crop of all they have reaped should con¬ 
 sist in a little outward trumpery ? Or if it should, 
 would it be a suitable medicine in the least to pre¬ 
 sent to the eyes of a broken and wounded people, 
 as the Jews will be at that day? Or if the glory 
 that the Gentiles at that day shall suck from the 
 J ews were such as this, would it at all be as life 
 from the dead to them in a gospel sense. The 
 church of the Gentiles shall be a wall to the Jews 
 at their return; but such a wall as will chiefly 
 consist in spiritual and heavenly safeguard, and in 
 outward, because of that. Ro. xi. 13 — 15 . I am a wall, 
 saith she, and my breasts are towers, on which the 
 Jews will build upon her a palace of silver. Ca. vffi. 
 8— 10 . But must this wall, I say, consist chiefly in 
 outward glory, in the glory of earthly things? or 
 must this silver palace be of that nature either? 
 No verily, but when God hath built the city Jeru¬ 
 salem, and put his church into such a state, that 
 upon all her glory shall be a defence of heaven, 
 then shall the J ews, by their coming into this city, 
 build, by their experience, a palace for spiritual 
 and heavenly pleasure, to solace and comfort their 
 brethren withal. In a word, then, by glory and 
 honour in this place, we are chiefly to understand 
 the spiritual and heavenly things of this city, which, 
 in the times of the reign of Antichrist, have lain, 
 some among the potsherds of the earth, some again 
 under the stairs, some under this abuse, and some 
 under that. Ps. ixi. 3 . Ca. ii. 14 . All which shall be 
 brought by the souls that shall be converted, forth¬ 
 with to this city, the church, where will be the 
 treasury of God, into which every one at that day 
 
 shall throw in of their abundance; but as for the 
 glory of the world, the saints shall be above it, it 
 shall be with them as silver and wood was in the 
 days of Solomon, even as little worth as the stones 
 in the street in their account. Is.xxvii. 13 . iKi. x. 21 . 
 
 [None but visible saints shall enter.'] 
 
 Yer. 27. * And there shall in nowise enter into it 
 any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh 
 abomination, or maketh a lie: but they which are 
 written in the Lamb’s book of life. ’ 
 
 I am not yet convinced that the highest church- 
 state that ever Avas, or ever will be in this world, 
 could possibly be so, all of them, the elect of God, 
 but that there Avould get in among them some that 
 had not saving grace; the same also I believe 
 touching the state of this Jerusalem. But yet 
 this I do believe again, that the right and gospel- 
 pattern is, that none be admitted into church 
 communion but such who are visible saints b y 
 calling. 1 Co. i. 1. 2 Co. i. 1. e p . i. 12. rh. i. 1. The sub¬ 
 stance of Avhich these Avords import, * There shall 
 not enter into it any thing that defiletii, or that 
 worketh abomination , or that maketh a lie. 1 Which 
 Avords do principally strike at a people that appear 
 to be loose, Avicked, or ungodly; of Avhich sort 
 indeed, not one shall here at any time, no, not in 
 any Avise, be admitted entrance. Bor now shall 
 all the forms, and all the ordinances, and all the 
 forms of the goings out of the church of God, and 
 the comings into it, be so exactly opened to these 
 people, and they so punctual and distinct in the 
 observation of them, that it will not be possible 
 that a Canaanite should be here for ever a^ain 
 
 O 
 
 found any more. Eze. xliii. 10, 11 ; xliv. 6, s. * This is 
 the law of the house upon the top of the mountain 
 —the Avhole limit thereof shall be most holy. Be¬ 
 hold, this is the law of the house.’ Eze. xim. 12. Joel 
 iii. 17. Zee. xiv. 21. 
 
 And as there shall at this day be none admitted 
 here, but such as are in truth visible saints, so 
 none must here continue, but they that' continue 
 such. If any of those stones that are put in for 
 building into the house of God, shall afterwards 
 have the plague found on them, then the priest 
 shall command that such stones be taken aAvay and 
 cast into the unclean place that is Avithout the city. 
 Le. xiv. 40 . Aud observe it, that congregation on 
 earth that admits only of such persons as are visible 
 saints by calling and profession—though possibly 
 some of them, as in the case of Judas and Demas, 
 may be known to God to be non-elect—vet that 
 church is holy round about the limits thereof. 
 
 Nu. xix. 22. Ep. v. 11. He. xii. 15. 2 Th. iii. 6, 14. 1 Co. v. 6, 11—13. 
 
 Provided, also, that if at any time after that the 
 plague appears, they ordinarily proceed to deal with 
 them, as here things Avill be done to a tittle and a 
 hair’s breadth. Now the reason Avliy the church 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 449 
 
 may be said to have some within her that arc non- 
 elect, and yet be counted holy still, it is because 
 the church is to judge of persons by their words 
 and lives; they know not the heart absolutely, and 
 therefore if in word and life a man be as he ought, 
 he is to be accounted a visible saint, and orderly 
 ought to be received of the church as such. So 
 that 1 say, as I said-before, these words of barriner 
 out sinners out of the church, they are not to be 
 understood as if they intended that those should 
 be debarred visible communion that in word and 
 life appeared visible saints, that are so judged bv 
 the rules of Christ’s testament; but that such 
 should be from it shut out that appeared visible 
 sinners. Those that are defilers, workers of 
 abomination, and makers of lies, none of these 
 shall enter. 
 
 But ‘ they which are written in the Lamb’s book 
 of life.’ These words explain the matter: those, 
 and those only, shall enter here, that are found 
 written in the Lamb’s book of life. Now, by book 
 of life we are to understand two things in the 
 scriptures of truth. First, either the book of 
 God’s eternal grace and mercy through Christ, in 
 which all the elect are recorded for ever. Or, 
 Secondly, that book of life in which the Lord 
 Jesus hath all recorded that are visible saints by 
 calling ; for, for both these there is a book of life. 
 For the first of these, I judge these scriptures do 
 suit. Lu. x. 20. 2 Ti. ii. 19. Phil. iv. 3. And for the 
 second, these with that in the text. Ex. xxxii. 32 , 33 . 
 
 Re. xxii. 19. 
 
 Now the book of life in this place must not be 
 so strictly taken as if it included those only that 
 were elect of God to eternal life, but must be un¬ 
 derstood of that book wherein are recorded the 
 rules and bounds of visible church-communion; and 
 so all those that, through the gifts and operations 
 of special or common grace, do fall within the 
 compass of those rules and bounds. Thus it was 
 in the type at the return out of captivity, none 
 were to be admitted entrance into the church but 
 those that could show their privileges by genea¬ 
 logy and the records of the church ; and to others 
 it was said that they had neither portion, nor lot, 
 nor memorial, in Jerusalem. Ezr. ii. 62 , 63 . Ne. vii. ei, 65 ; 
 ii. 20. 
 
 Now that by book of life in this place we are to 
 understand that book that hath in it the bounds 
 and liberties of this city, and so every one that 
 falleth within the compass of these bounds and 
 privileges visibly; consider, 
 
 First. They that are visible matter for visible 
 church-communion, they shall be found within this 
 city, and yet there shall not enter any, but those 
 that are written in the Lamb’s book of life. 
 
 Second. Now visible church-communion doth not 
 absolutely call for only invisible saiuts, neither can 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 it; for if the church were to join with none but 
 those whom they knew to be the very elect of God 
 —as all invisible saints are—then she must join 
 with none at all; for it is not possible that any 
 church should be so infallible to judge in that 
 manner of the elect, as to discern them always, 
 and altogether, from the non-elect, which cannot 
 be an invisible saint. 
 
 Third. By book of life therefore, in this place, 
 we are to understand, I say, that book that hath 
 written in it every visible saint, whether they be 
 elect or not; and so such a book that is capable 
 of receiving in a man at one time, and of blotting 
 of him out again, as occasion doth require, at 
 another. Which thing is only applicable to that 
 book which binds and looses on the account of a 
 man’s being a visible saint or a visible apostate. 
 Which thing is only applicable to the visible rules 
 of receiving or shutting out of visible church-com¬ 
 munion; which rules being the rules of Christ’s 
 New Testament, it is proper to call it the book of 
 life; and is about the matter of going in or going 
 out of this very city so called. ‘ If any man shall 
 take away from the words of the book of this pro¬ 
 phecy, God shall take away his part out of the 
 book of life, and out of the holy city, and from the 
 things which are written in this book. ’ Re. xxii. is, 19 . 
 0 how happy is he who is not only a visible, but 
 also an invisible saint! Re. iii. 5. He, he shall not 
 be blotted out the book of God’s eternal grace and 
 mercy, when others are liable to loose a share, not 
 only in heaven, but to be for ever blotted out of the 
 book that approvetli of visible believers also. 
 
 Fourth. But again, to explain the matter yet 
 more: in the visible church there are not only 
 sons, but servants—that is, not only those that 
 are truly elect, but such as have received a gift for 
 the perfecting of the church under Christ, in his 
 service here in this world. Eze. xivi. 16, 17 . Now, I 
 say, the servant for the time present hath his place 
 in the church as well as the son, though not the 
 place of a son, but of a servant, even a place of 
 service, as of preaching, prophesying, administer¬ 
 ing the ordinances that are given to the church, 
 and the like. 1 Co. xii. 7 . Ep. iv. 11 , 12 . All which a 
 man that hath not grace may do, and that by the 
 appointment of Christ; thus was Judas, Dennis, 
 Hymeneus, Phyletus, and others, who sometimes 
 were the servants of Christ in the church, and did 
 minister for him to them ; yet themselves, notwith¬ 
 standing, such as were all that time strangers and 
 aliens to the life and power and saving operations 
 of the justifying and preserving grace of the gos¬ 
 pel. 1 Co. xiii. 1 —i. Mat. xxv. 14-18. As lie saith also by 
 the prophet Isaiah, * strangers shall stand and feed 
 your flocks, and the sons of aliens shall be your 
 ploughmen, and your vine-dressers.’ is. ixi. 5 . For 
 verily Christ will give to those that have not his 
 
 57 
 
450 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OH 
 
 / 
 
 If 
 
 lit 
 
 tin 
 
 wi 
 
 3 
 
 
 fifU 
 
 saving grace, yet great knowledge and understand¬ 
 ing in the mysteries 'of the kingdom of God, and 
 will also make them for profit and advantage in 
 his church, to feed their flocks, to plough up the 
 fallow ground of their hearts, and to dress their 
 tender vines. Yet, I say, they themselves shall 
 not be everlastingly saved, for they want his sav¬ 
 ing grace. As Christ saith, ‘ The servant abideth 
 not in the house for ever, but the son abideth for 
 ever.’ Jn. viii. 35 . As he saith again in another pro¬ 
 phet, ‘ If the prince give a gift unto any of his 
 sons, the inheritance thereof shall be his sons, it 
 shall be their possession by inheritance; but if he 
 give a gift of inheritance to one of his servants, 
 then it shall be his to the year of liberty, after it 
 shall return to the prince; but his inheritance shall 
 be his sons for them.’ Eze.xivi. 16 17 . Some indeed have 
 grace as well as gifts; now they that are such the 
 profit of their gifts shall be rewarded by virtue of 
 their grace; but as for them that have only a gift, 
 when the work of a gift is done, then they cease 
 to be any longer of use in the church, and there¬ 
 fore are forthwith shut out of the same, but the 
 son abideth for ever. Thus you see that as 
 visible church-communion doth not absolutely call 
 for the elect only, but admits, and that by the 
 book of rules, all that are visible and open saints 
 by calling, so also the Lord Jesus himself doth, 
 and will use some in his church as his officers and 
 servants, that yet in a strict sense are neither his 
 sons nor members, who yet are within the bounds 
 of that book of life that here he speaks of, as is 
 evident, because with Christ’s allowance they are 
 admitted into communion with his church, and by 
 him also furnished with gifts and abilities to profit 
 and edify withal. Now observe, such a one is 
 admitted, though but a servant, yet not by the 
 church, because but such a one. The church 
 receiveth no man upon the account of gifts alone, 
 but upon the account of the appearance of grace, 
 as of gospel-repentance, of the confession of faith, 
 and of a conversation suitable to the same; all 
 which a man that is not elect may have the notion 
 of, yea, the power, though not the saving power. 
 
 He. vi. 4, 5. 
 
 Fifth. Further, this which I have said about 
 the visible church-communion, and so consequently 
 about the book of life, it must needs be a gospel- 
 truth: yea, a thing for truth in this New Jeru¬ 
 salem: because, besides what hath been said, there 
 will be found in this city, even at the coming of 
 the Lord Jesus, which coming of his will not be 
 for some time after the building and setting of it 
 up, I say, there will be then found among them 
 foolish virgins, and such who have not the saving 
 grace of God in tlieir souls. But yet, 1. These 
 very souls shall be counted by the church, yea, by 
 Christ himself, for virgins; that is, such as had 
 
 not defiled their profession. 2. And will be such 
 virgins as have, and hold every one her lamp, 
 even as the wise themselves. 3. Such virgins as 
 were, every one of them gone forth from the pol¬ 
 lutions of this evil world. 4. And so such as con¬ 
 tinued visible saints, even till the bridegroom came. 
 Mat sxv. 1 - 10 . For then, it is said in the margin, 
 they cried, Our lamps are going out. These, I 
 say, be those gifted people that will have place in 
 the church, and so place in the book of life here 
 mentioned, which yet will, though they continue 
 hid from the church, be discovered in the day of 
 the Lord to be such as had only a gift, but not 
 grace, and shall for their secret sins be cut off and 
 cast away, notwithstanding they were visible saints 
 all their days. 
 
 To conclude then: If the Scripture saith, that 
 none that defileth, or that worketh abomination, 
 or maketh a lie, shall enter into this holv citv 
 which yet is but the church on earth, with what 
 face can defilers think and say they shall possess 
 a part among the church which is in heaven? 
 Again, If many that have received gifts from God, 
 and that may be serviceable in his house, shall yet 
 be put out of doors at the coming of the Lord, 
 what will they do that have been and yet continue 
 both giftless and graceless, as visibly as the light 
 that shineth? And that instead of being the 
 ploughmen and vine-dressers of the church, prove 
 thieves, robbers, persecutors, and the like! Yea, 
 if many that are within the bounds of that book 
 of life that hath the records and rules of a 
 rightly constituted visible church may yet perish, 
 what will become of them that never were so 
 much as written therein? Must they not perish 
 rather ? * And whosoever was not found written 
 
 in the book of life, was cast into the lake of fire.’ 
 
 Rev. xx. 15. 
 
 Bev. xxii. 1.—‘And he showed me a pure river 
 of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of 
 the throne of God and of the Lamb.’ 
 
 [Fifth. The provision and maintenance of the 
 
 CITY, BY WHICH IT CONTINUETH IN LIFE, EASE, 
 
 PEACE, TRANQUILLITY, AND SWEETNESS FOR EVER.] 
 
 Having thus showed us this city, her fashion, 
 glory, inhabitants, and the like, he now comes to 
 show us her provision and maintenance, where¬ 
 with she is kept in safety, life, peace, and comfort, 
 &c. 
 
 [Its drink the river of life.\ 
 
 ‘ And lie showed me a pure river of water of 
 life.’ This water of life is nothing else but the 
 manifold grace of God in Christ let forth to the 
 inhabitants of this Jerusalem, wherewith she is 
 watered and replenished, as the earth with rain 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 451 
 
 from Leaven, for the good of those that drink 
 thereof. For both the word water and that of 
 life, they are but metaphorical sayings, under 
 which is held forth some better and more excellent 
 thing. And indeed it is frequent with God in 
 Scripture to speak of his grace and mercy under 
 the notion of waters, of a fountain, a sea, and the 
 like. Zee. xiii. 1; Mic. vii. 18,19. 
 
 [It is colled water.] Now it is called water, 
 First, Because no soul can be cleansed, or effec¬ 
 tually washed from its guilt and filth, but by the 
 grace of God. Ep. i. 7. * 1 washed thee with water, 
 
 yea, I thoroughly washed away thy blood from 
 thee, ‘and thou becamest mine.’ Eze.xvi.8,9. Second, 
 It is called water, because it also quencheth the 
 spiritual thirst of them that by faith do drink 
 thereof. Is. xii. 18. I will give, saith Christ, to him 
 that is a-thirst, of the fountain of the water of life 
 freely. Re.xxii. 17. And again, ‘He that drinketli of 
 the water that I shall give him, shall never thirst.’ 
 
 Jn. iv. 14. 
 
 [ Water of life.] Further, As it is called water, 
 so it is called ‘the water of life,’ and that upon a 
 diverse account. First, Because it is that which 
 recovereth the soul that drinketh thereof from the 
 death of sin and the curse of God, to a principle 
 of life and heavenly blessing. ‘And it shall come 
 to pass that every thing that liveth, which moveth 
 whithersoever the rivers shall come, shall live.’ 
 Eze.xivii.9. Second, It is called ‘the water of life,’ 
 because that from it comes all those heavenly and 
 
 * Water of life. SpiritUal <l uickenin g s and revivings, 
 
 ' that (like aqua vitae )* do fetch again, 
 
 and cheer up the soul that was sinking and edviiifr 
 up the ghost in this world. ‘ There is a river, the 
 streams whereof shall make glad the city of God.’ 
 Ps. xivi. 4 . Third, It is called ‘the water of life,’ 
 because it liealeth the soul of all its spiritual infir¬ 
 mities and diseases, wherewith by reason of the 
 remainders of sin, the creature is most sadly an¬ 
 noyed and infected. ‘And there shall be a very 
 great multitude of fish,’ of men he means, Mat.iv. 19, 
 
 ‘ because the waters shall come thither; for they,’ 
 these fish, ‘ shall be healed, and every thing shall 
 live whither the river cometh.’ Eze. xivii. 9. Fourth, 
 and lastly, It is called ‘the water of life,’ because 
 that whosoever doth effectually drink thereof, shall 
 die no more, but the water that Christ shall give 
 him shall be in him a well of water, springing up 
 in him to eternal life; wherefore he calleth it iu 
 another place, * the living water,’ because the 
 quality and nature of it is to beget, to increase, to 
 maintain, and preserve life. Jn. iv. 10-14. 
 
 [Water of life clear and pure as crystal.] 
 
 ‘ And he showed me a pure river of water of life, 
 clear as crystal,’ Ac. Mark, it is water, water of 
 li;e, pure water of life, and clear as crystal. These 
 words, ‘pure’ aud ‘clear,’ and that as ‘crystal,’ 
 
 they are added upon a double account. First, To 
 show you that it is grace alone that saveth the 
 sinner ; and, Second, To show you that at this 
 day the doctrine of this grace will be by itself alone 
 without the commixture of that dirt and trash that 
 for a long time, even to this day, hath been thrown 
 into it. 
 
 First, It sliowetn us that it is grace alone that 
 saveth the sinner, pure grace, grace that admits 
 of nothing of ours to be in the least a helper in 
 the matter of our happiness; we are ‘justified freely 
 by his grace, through the redemption that is in 
 Christ Jesus.’ As he saith by the prophet, ‘I will 
 pour clean water upon you, and ye shall be clean, 
 and from all your idols will I cleanse you .’ 1 Eze. xxxvi. 
 25 . ‘ Not for your sakes do I this, saith the Lord. 
 Be ye ashamed and confounded for all your own 
 evil ways, 0 house of Israel,’ ver. 32 , 33 . It is clean 
 water, indeed—it is clear in the nature of it, clear 
 in the gift of it, and clear in the working of it. 
 It washeth freely, thoroughly, and perfectly. 
 ‘From all your idols will I cleanse you,’ ver. 25; xvi. 9 . 
 Re. xxi. 8. 
 
 Second, This word pure, and clear as crystal, it 
 also showeth us that at the day of New Jerusalem, 
 the doctrine of grace shall be cleansed from all 
 those dirty and muddy inventions that sin, Satan, 
 and the wisdom of this world hath thrown into 
 this river, and into its goodly crystal streams; I 
 say at this day they shall not come near it, neither 
 shall the rubbish they have already cast into it 
 any more be there for ever. ‘ I will destroy all 
 the beasts thereof (the beastly men he means) from 
 beside the great waters, neither shall the foot of 
 man trouble them any more, nor the hoofs of beasts 
 trouble them. Then will I make their waters deep, 
 and cause the rivers to run like oil, saith the Lord 
 God.’ Eze. xxxii. 13,14. 
 
 * And he shewed me a pure river of water of 
 life, clear as crystal,’ &c. In that he saith he 
 saw this river, he giveth us in a mystery also to 
 understand how openly and plainly this river shall 
 in all its crystal streams and currents be appre¬ 
 hended and seen by the children of this city; for 
 in this vision he doth as it were represent in his 
 person the children of New Jerusalem; as God 
 said to Ezekiel in another case, ‘Thou shalt be a 
 sign,’ ‘and they shall do as thou hast done,’ 
 xxiv. 22 , 27 . So here, I saw, saith John, a pure river 
 of water of life. I am in this a sign to the house 
 of the Israel of God, and to the inhabitants of this 
 city; they shall do as I have done, and shall also 
 see as I have seen. As saith the church aud 
 people of this city, ‘As we have heard, so have we 
 
 1 This quotation is taken from that excellent translation of 
 the Bible made by the reformers at Geneva, and which was 
 much used in Buuyan’s time. He preferred the word pour 
 to that of sprinkle, used iu the present version.— (Ed.) 
 
452 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
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 seen, in the city of the Lord of hosts. Ps.xiviii. 8. 
 And hence it is called an open fountain, because 
 it shall be no more shut up or kept close for ever. 
 Zee. xiii. 1, 2. 
 
 [ V/hither this water goes and its extension .] 
 
 * And he showed me a pure river of water of 
 life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne 
 of God.’ This word, proceeding, hath also in it 
 two things: First , An implicit declaration whither 
 it goes ; and, Second, A discovery of its gradual 
 extension to those to whom it goes. 
 
 First. Touching to whom, or whither it goes, it 
 is let out both to the Jews and Gentiles indiffer- 
 ently; and so it never yet was since the foundations 
 of the Jewish church; for in the time of the Old 
 Testament it did run to the Jews in special, and 
 in the times of the New Testament, hitherto, unto 
 us the Gentiles in special. 0! hut now it shall in 
 this manner he extended to sinners no longer; not 
 now to the Jews without the Gentiles, nor again 
 to them without the Jews, hut equally and alike 
 to both, and on them both it shall work alike 
 effectually. * It shall be in that day,’ saith the 
 prophet, ‘ that liviug waters shall go out from 
 Jerusalem; half of them toward the former sea,| 
 and half of them toward the hinder sea.’ Zee. xiv. 8. 
 By ‘living waters’ here, you are to understand the 
 same with this in the text; by ‘the former sea,’ 
 the people of the Jews, for they were God’s former 
 people; and by ‘ hinder sea,’ the people of the 
 Gentiles, for they are the younger son. And 
 because the whole world consisteth of these two 
 people, therefore Ezekiel in his vision puts them 
 both together, calling them the fish of one great 
 sea, to which this water of life shall run, and upon 
 whose fish it shall have a like operation, even to 
 heal them, and make them live, without respect 
 either to this or that party. ‘ It shall come to 
 pass that the fishers,’ that is, the gospel ministers, 
 
 ‘ shall stand upon it,’ the rivers, ‘ from En-gedi 
 even to En-eglaim; they shall be a place to spread 
 forth nets; their fish shall be according to their 
 kinds, as the fish of the great sea, exceeding 
 many.’ Eze. xivii. 10 . As another prophet saith, 
 
 ‘ The abundance of the sea shall be converted to 
 thee. ’ is. lx. 5. Thus much touching whither this 
 water goes. 
 
 [Second.] And now to come to the manner of 
 the extension of it, in the way of its proceeding. A 
 thing that proceeds, it doth what it doth gradu¬ 
 ally, that is, by degrees. First, it comes or goes 
 so far, and then further, and afterwards further 
 than that, till at last it ascends to the height and 
 uppermost degree that is allotted for its perfection. 
 All which the Holy Ghost would have us gather 
 out of this word, ‘it proceedeth,’ or that John saw 
 this holy water ‘proceeding.’ The which the pro¬ 
 
 phet Ezekiel in a mystery untoldeth to us, saying, 
 the first time he passed over this water it was up 
 but to his ankles; the second time he passed 
 through, it proceeded to his knees ; the third time, 
 to his loins ; and last of all, became a river to swim 
 
 in. Eze. xivii. 1—3. 
 
 1. It is but up to the ankles, that is, but shal¬ 
 low ; and signifies that, first, the soul is but a little 
 child in God’s things, such as the apostle calls 
 babes, children, ‘little children,’ l Jn. ii. 12 . 
 
 2. Then from the ankles it proceeds to the knees, 
 that is, somewhat higher than the ankles; and 
 siffnifietli that the Christian ffroweth from a child 
 to a young and strong man, one that is now gotten 
 deeper into the things of God, and that is able to 
 tuff with and overcome the wicked ones. 1 Jn. ii. 13. 
 
 3. After this it proceeds higher, even up to the 
 loins; this signifies that as grace makes men 
 children of God, and his young men, so also it 
 maketh them fathers and ancients in his church; 
 it makes them grave, knowing, solid guides, and 
 unfolders of the mysteries of the kingdom; these 
 are such as are instructed into the kingdom of God, 
 and that can bring out of their treasury things new 
 and old. 
 
 4. It yet proceeds higher, even to be above the 
 head, a river to swim in, and that such a river as 
 can by no means be passed over. This signifieth 
 our launching into eternity; our being beyond all 
 heights, depths, lengths, and breadths in the open 
 vision and enjoyments of grace. ‘For there the 
 glorious Lord shall he unto us a place of broad 
 rivers and streams, wherein shall go no galley with 
 oars, neither shall gallant ships pass thereby.’ Is. 
 xxxiii. 21 . Thus we begin children, and wade up to 
 the ankles in the things of God; and being once 
 in, it riseth and proceeds to come up to our knees, 
 then to our loins, and last of all to be a river to 
 swim in; a river so wide, so deep, and every way y/ 
 so large, that it can in no wise be passed over. 1 
 
 [ Whence and from whom this water comes.] 
 
 ‘ And he showed me a pure river of water of life, 
 clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of 
 God, and of the Lamb.’ Having thus spoken to 
 the water what it is, as also to whom it extends 
 itself, and how it proceeds, he now comes to show 
 us from whence and from whom it doth come. It 
 proceeds, saith he, ‘ from the throne of God and 
 of the Lamb.’ Out of the throne of God; this 
 throne of God, it is, in another place, called the 
 mercy-seat, and throne of grace, from which, as 
 always, so now in a special manner he will issue 
 
 1 How beautifully is the Christian’s growth in grace here 
 pictured by Bunyau from Eze. xivii. 3-12. So imperceptibly 
 by Divine power, without the aid of man, that the partaker 
 often doubts his own growth. The water rises higher and 
 higher, until at length there is no standing for his feet—the 
 earth and time recedes, and he is plunged into the ocean of 
 eternal grace and glory.— (Ed.) 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 453 
 
 
 0 
 
 forth of himself in the glory of the gospel of the 
 grace of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ to the 
 inhabitants of this city. Ex. xxv. 22 . He. iv. ig. When 
 he saith, therefore, that it doth proceed out of the 
 throne of God, it is as if lie had said, I saw that 
 from the yearning bowels of the great God did 
 flow continually the living streams of the everlasting 
 fountains of grace, and that not only to, but in the 
 midst of this city, wherewith her inhabitants are 
 continually watered, and their pastures kept always 
 green and flourishing. * Ho, everyone that thirsteth, 
 come ye to the waters.’ is. iv. 1 . 
 
 ‘ Proceeding out of the throne of God and of 
 the Lamb.’ In that this water of life is said to 
 proceed not only out of the throne of God, but also 
 ot the Lamb, it signifieth and holdeth forth unto us 
 two special things: 
 
 First. That the throne of God is also made the 
 throne of the Lord Jesus Christ, upon which he, 
 as a reward of his sufferings and victory over sin, 
 Satan, and all evils, is set down, and upon which 
 he sits and rules as Lord and Chief of all worlds. 
 He is set down on the right hand of power, on the 
 right hand of the Majesty on high; as he saith, 
 
 ‘ To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with 
 me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am 
 set down with my Father in his throne.’ Re. iii. 21 . 
 This being thus, it signifieth that this city shall 
 have her enjoyments of life, peace, and joy in the 
 Holy Ghost, by virtue of the kingship of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, as well as by the virtue of his priestly 
 and prophetical office. The church doth in our 
 days know a little what joy, peace, and life is to 
 be enjoyed from Christ, even through that dark 
 and glimmering sight that she hath of the offices 
 of Christ in a mist; but she feels not yet what 
 joy she shall have, and what peace she shall enjoy 
 when her Lord, in all his offices, is manifest before 
 her, and when he in the glory of them doth reign 
 in the midst of this Jerusalem. There are none 
 of the offices of the Lord Jesus yet upon the throne 
 in his church on earth, though they be all upon the 
 throne in heaven. 0! but the day is coming that 
 they shall be all upon the throne in the church on 
 earth; when they shall, each of them in its full 
 length, breadth, height, and depth, bear sway 
 among his people, and before all men. ‘ Then 
 the moon shall be confounded, and the sun ashamed, 
 when the Lord of hosts shall reign in Mount Zion, 
 and in Jerusalem, and before his ancients gloriously.’ 
 
 Is. xxiv. 23. 
 
 ‘ 0 that thou wouldest rend the heavens, that 
 thou wouldest come down, that the mountains 
 might flow down at thy presence!’ Is. lxiv. 1 . 0 
 
 that the day were come that the smoke should go 
 forth of the temple of God, that men might enter 
 into it, and there meet with God upon the throne, 
 and with Jesus in him upon the throne in all his 
 
 offices ! It will be thus, thou Zion, shortly, ‘ and 
 great shall be the peace of thy children.’ is. iir. 13 . 
 
 [Second.] The second thing observable is, that 
 as all grace comes from out of the throne of God, 
 so it also proceeds or comes out of the throne of 
 the Lamb; that is, no grace comes to any but 
 through the victory and conquest of the Lord Christ. 
 We are ‘justified freely by his grace, through the 
 redemption that is in Christ Jesus.’ Ro. iii. 24 . And 
 again, ‘ We have redemption through his blood,’ 
 even ‘ the forgiveness of ’ our ‘ sins, according to 
 the riches of his grace.’ Ep. i. 7 . By which we may 
 gather that when these things come to be in their 
 own purity among us—that is, when grace runs 
 clear without the dirt and mud of the traditions of 
 men commixed therewith—then will all that hold 
 up false and erroneous opinions be washed away. 
 For this river will not only wash away the sins 
 and filthiness of those that are truly gracious; but 
 it will also destroy the heretic and erroneous per¬ 
 son ; 1 it will be to them at that day as the Fed 
 Sea was to the Egyptians of old; which sea, 
 though it was a wall on this hand and on that to 
 the children of Israel, yet it destroyed the Egyp¬ 
 tians that assayed to go through it as Israel did. 
 He. xi. 29 . The reason also why Ave are at this day 
 in such confusion in matters of religion, it is for 
 want of the clear and pure streams of this river of 
 water of life ; all which will be mended when there 
 is but one river to water this city, and that too 
 the pure river of the water of life, in all its streams 
 as clear as crystal; then shall all drink in all 
 things into one Spirit, and be watered with the 
 same dews of heaven. 
 
 Thus much of the water of life that belongeth 
 to this Jerusalem. 
 
 [Its food the tree of life.] 
 
 Verse 2. And ‘ in the midst of the street of it, 
 and on either side of the river, was there the tree 
 of life, which bear twelve manner of fruits, and 
 yielded her fruit every month; and the leaves of 
 the tree ivere for the healing of the nations.’ This 
 tree of life is the Lord Jesus Christ; and that he 
 is here called a tree, rather than by other of his 
 names, it is to show us how fruitful and exceeding 
 advantageous he in all his benefits will be to the 
 inhabitants of this city. This is that tree under 
 whose branches the fowls of heaven shall now most 
 safely lodge, and find relief from the hot and 
 fainting beams of the persecuting sun of this world, 
 as the Word doth there inform us. Mat. xiii. 31 , 32 . 
 
 [The situation of this tree in the midst of the city.] 
 Now before I come to speak to this tree, touching 
 the manner of its fruit, and its often bearing, with 
 
 1 * To the one, the savour of death unto death; and to the 
 other, the savour of life unto life.’ 2 Cor. ii. 10 .—(Ed.) 
 
I 
 
 454 TIIE HOLY 
 
 llie efficaciousness of its leaves, which here he saith 
 doth heal the nations; 1 will take notice of one or 
 two general things that lie before me, from the 
 
 o o 
 
 standing of the tree in the midst of the street of 
 this city. 
 
 First then, In that he saith this city hath a tree 
 of life in it, he alludes to the garden of Eden, the 
 pleasant paradise that God began the world withal; 
 whereby he signifieth that as the world began with 
 a paradise, so also it shall end with a paradise, 
 when sin and Satan have done their worst. This 
 New Jerusalem shall be the wind up of the world, 
 and in it shall stand the tree of life, as well as there 
 stood one in the goodly garden, which was the 
 beginning thereof. In which paradise there shall 
 be no tree of knowledge, or the law of works, to 
 bear sway, and to cause that the sons of God shall 
 he thrust out thence for their eating of its for¬ 
 bidden fruits; no, the tree of life alone shall here 
 bear sway and rule, whose fruit is only healthful, 
 and the leaves thereof for medicine. 
 
 [1.] Now this tree of life being in the midst of 
 this city, it signifieth that the inhabitants of it 
 shall be sweetly shadowed, refreshed, and defended 
 with its coolness, and also sweetly nourished and 
 comforted with its dainties. And hence it is that 
 the Scriptures do hold him forth in his benefits to 
 his church under these very notions. ‘ As the 
 apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my 
 beloved among the sons. I sat down under his 
 shadow with great delight, and his fruit ivas sweet 
 to my taste.’Ca. ii. s. Indeed the shadow of this 
 tree of life, as always it is refreshing to the tempted 
 and weary, so now it will be far more. * They 
 that dwell under his shadow shall return; they 
 shall revive as the corn, and grow as the vine; 
 the scent thereof shall be as the wine of Lebanon.’ 
 iiab. xiv. 7 . Mark, (1.) His shadow will make us 
 return, that is, to our first love; to the days of 
 our youth, to our young, fresh, tender, and flour¬ 
 ishing faith, love, and self-denial, that we received 
 in the days of our espousals. (2.) As it will make 
 us return to these, so it will make us revive in 
 these; they shall return and revive, they shall 
 revive as the corn; as the corn doth when, in the 
 heat of summer, after long scorching, it is covered 
 with cool clouds, and watered with the bottles of 
 heaven. (3.) As it shall make them return and 
 revive, so it shall make them grow; they shall 
 grow as the vine, that is, speedily, fruitfully, and 
 spreadingly. (4.) This is not all, but the smell of 
 saints in those days shall be excellent; ‘ They 
 shall revive as the corn,’ they shall ‘grow as the 
 vine,’ and shall send forth their scent ‘ as the wine 
 of Lebanon.’ This tree is a perfuming tree, and 
 makes them also that abide under the shadow 
 thereof to smell as sweet-smelling myrrh; it makes 
 them smell as the wine of thy grace, 0 Lord, and 
 
 CITY, OR 
 
 as the fragrant ointments of heaven. When the 
 spouse did but touch where her Lord had touche 1 
 afore her, it made her ‘ hands drop with myrrh, 
 and her fingers with sweet-smelling myrrh.’ Ca. v. 5. 
 0 they will be green, savoury, reviving, flourishing, 
 growing Christians, that shall walk the street of 
 New Jerusalem! * I am ,’ saith he, ‘like a green 
 fir tree. From me is thy fruit found.’ Ho. xiv. 8. 
 
 [2.] But again, As he shall be thus profitable to 
 his people for shadow and reviving, so he will be 
 in the midst of the street of it for food, for refresh¬ 
 ing and replenishing that way. ‘ I sat down under 
 his shadow with great delight,’ said she, ‘ and his 
 fruit was sweet to my taste.’ Ezekiel tells us 
 that this tree is all trees; and on the bank of the 
 river, on this side, and on that, were all trees for 
 meat. Eze. xivii. 12 . Indeed Christ is all trees; yea, 
 there is more to be found in him for the food of 
 the soul, than there can be on all trees for the food 
 of the body. He is a fir-tree for tallness, green¬ 
 ness and strength; he is an olive for fatness, a 
 vine for sweetness and goodness, for therewith is 
 refreshed the heart both of God and man. Ho. xiv. 8 . 
 Ho. xi. 17. Jn. xv. l, 2 . What shall I say, He is the 
 almond-tree, the fig-tree, the apple-tree, all trees; 
 The tree of life also in the midst of the paradise of 
 God. Ca. ii. 13. 
 
 To conclude.—Seeing Christ is said to be in the 
 midst of the street of this citv, it showeth unto us 
 with what, at all occasions, the actions of the 
 saints of this city shall be seasoned. The street, 
 you know I told you, is the way of holiness in this 
 city, the place of spiritual recreation and solace. 
 Now in the very midst of this street there stands 
 this tree, which being thus, it showeth us how 
 wonderfully Christ, as a tree of life, will be in all 
 the words and deeds of the inhabitants of this Jeru¬ 
 salem ; they will walk in Christ, they will talk in 
 Christ, they will do all they do in Christ, or rather 
 Christ will be found in all their ways; even as the 
 tree of life is found in the midst of the street of 
 
 i 
 
 this city: ‘ they shall walk up and down in his 
 name, saith the Lord.’ Zee. x. 12 . 
 
 Again, In that this tree is said to stand in the 
 midst of the street, it showeth unto us how com¬ 
 mon and free his benefits will now be also. The 
 plumbs, and figs, and grapes, and apples of this 
 tree, will be open to every passenger: not a boy nor 
 a girl, that now shall play in thy street, 0 Jeru¬ 
 salem, but shall eat of the fruits of the tree that 
 stands in the midst of thee, as of common things. 
 
 Je. xxxi. 4, 5. 
 
 [Second.] ‘And in the midst of the street of it, 
 and on either side of the river was there the tree 
 of life.’ As this tree doth stand in the midst of 
 the street of this city, so it also standeth on each 
 side of the river of the water of life, of which you 
 have heard before. Now when he saith, the tree 
 
THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 455 
 
 is on either side of the river; whence by the way 
 note yet again, that both the water of life, and also 
 the tree of life, they are both to be enjoyed by the 
 inhabitants of this city in the way of holiness; the 
 tree is in the midst of the street, and the river runs 
 through or between the very tables of the heart 
 of this tree of life; on cither side of the river was 
 there the tree of life. 
 
 Again, In that it is said that this tree of life is 
 on either side of the river; it argueth that they 
 who come at any time at this river for water to 
 quench their thirst, and to make them live, they 
 must come to it by the tree of life, which is Christ. 
 In more easy terms, read it thus: There is none 
 can partake of the grace of God but by the man 
 Christ Jesus, which is this tree of life. CoL ii. 3 , 9 . 
 For this tree, this Christ, doth stand on either side 
 of the river, to signify that all grace to us comes 
 through his bloody wounds, death and victory. 
 Jn. i. is. * I am the way,’ saith Christ, * and the 
 truth, and the life; no man cometh to the Father 
 but by ine.’ Jn. xiv. 6. 
 
 * And on either side of the river was there the 
 tree of life.’ Mark, but one tree, and yet such a 
 tree whose body reached as far as the river reached: 
 indeed Ezekiel saith this tree is all trees for meat, 
 yet not to show that there are more trees of life 
 than one, but to show that all that can be thought 
 
 # O 
 
 of that is good for soul-nourishment, is to be found 
 in this one, that is, in Christ Jesus. And it is 
 further evident that though he saith all trees, as 
 if he meant many, yet he spake but metaphorically, 
 to show thereby the fulness of Christ; because 
 John doth understand him so, calling it one tree, 
 to wit, ‘ the tree of life.’ But mark again, so far 
 as the river goes, so far the tree goes, so that 
 where you cannot find the tree of life, be sure there 
 is none of the water of life. No Christ, no grace. 
 
 * lie that hath the Son hath life, but he that hath 
 not the Son of God, shall not see life, but the 
 wrath of God abideth on him. ’ jn. m. 36. i Jn. v. 12 . For 
 
 * on either side of the river was there the tree of 
 life. 
 
 ( The fruitsof this tree. ] ‘ Which bare twelve man¬ 
 ner of fruits.’ This word fruits, it may be taken 
 two ways—either as it relates to God, or as it re¬ 
 lates to man, for, as I said before, the fruit of this 
 tree refreshes the heart both of God and man. Ju. 
 
 ix. 9,14. 
 
 [I.] Now if it be taken with reference to God, 
 then it signifieth the complete satisfaction that by 
 the worthiness of the fruits of the passion of Christ 
 is given to God for the salvation of the church; 
 this city of God. Da. ix. 24 ,26. He suffered to finish 
 transgression, to make an end of sin, and to bring 
 in everlasting righteousness; by this, I say, is the 
 heart of God refreshed, and in this doth it rest. 
 
 Alat iii. 17 . 
 
 [2.] If fruit here be taken with reference to men, 
 then it signifieth the happiness and glory that thoso 
 for whom he died and rose again should receive 
 by this means. His fruit, I 'have showed you, is 
 sweet to the taste of his church, which fruit is the 
 effect of his undertaking for sinners and the com¬ 
 fortable savour of it in the soul. 
 
 [The variety of the fruits.] * Which bare twelve 
 manner of fruits.’ I/i that he saith the fruits are 
 twelve, he herein alludeth, 
 
 1. To the twelve tribes of the Israel of God; for 
 which twelve tribes here will be found a suitable 
 measure of food, healing food: ‘ I will multiply the 
 fruit of the tree,’ saith God, and also ‘ the increase 
 of the field, that ye shall receive no more reproach 
 of famine among the heathen.’ Eze. xxxvi. so. 
 
 Again, These that John calleth ‘ twelve manner 
 of fruits,’ the prophet Ezekiel calleth ‘all manner 
 of fruit for meat.’ For indeed, as I showed before, 
 there is that to be found in Christ, both for fulness 
 and variety, that is not to be found in heaven and 
 earth beside. Here is fruit for body, fruit for soul, 
 fruit for babes, fruit for strong men, fruit for fathers, 
 yea, for glorified saints and angels. Fruits, variety 
 of fruits, even twelve manner of fruits. 
 
 2. By twelve manner of fruits, he doth also al¬ 
 lude to the apostles, who are called twelve, and are 
 those who have made provision for the house of 
 God, according to the twelve-fold manner of the 
 dispensation of God unto them, and of the twelve¬ 
 fold manner of operation of that holy Spirit which 
 wrought in every one of them severally as he 
 pleased. Which twelve were before figured unto 
 us by the twelve officers of king Solomon, the type 
 of Christ, which twelve were to make provision for 
 the house of the king, according to the season of 
 the year, and each man his month in the year, 
 l Ki. iv. 7. Which very thing the Holy Ghost also 
 doth here cast his eye upon, and that makes him 
 brin g in the words of ‘ every month, ’ saying, it yields 
 its fruit ‘ every month.’ For indeed, whatever you 
 read of concerning this city, in this description of 
 J ohn, you find something or other in the writings 
 of the prophets that givetli ground for such expres¬ 
 sions. Wherefore seeing the officers of Solomon 
 were twelve, and the apostles of Christ twelve also; 
 and seeing the officers of Solomon made provision 
 for his house, each man his month in a year, and 
 the fruits of this tree of life are called twelve man¬ 
 ner of fruits, I do take the twelve manner of fruits 
 here to be signified by the provision of Solomon’s 
 officers, according to the twelve seasons of the year, 
 and they a type of the twelve-fold doctrine of the 
 twelve apostles of the Lord Christ, for it is their 
 doctrine that is the bread of the church, yea, the 
 milk for the babe, and the strong meat for men. 
 
 1 Tli. ii. 7. 1 Co. iii. 2. He. v. 11—14. 
 
 [The abundance of the fruits.] ‘ And yielded her 
 
456 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
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 fruit every month.’ As this confirmefh what I 
 have said before, so it further showeth us these 
 three things. First , That the effectual fruits of 
 Christ for the saving of the world, they are to be 
 had especially at certain seasons. It ‘ yielded her 
 fruit every month.’ Second , It showeth also that 
 at the building of this Jerusalem, these seasons 
 will be very thick and quick; she yielded her fruit 
 ‘ every month.’ Third , It showeth us also the 
 abundance of provision that this holy city shall then 
 enjoy from the tree of life, even all manner of fruit 
 every month. 
 
 First , For the first, that the gospel hath and 
 will be especially effectual at certain seasons for 
 the saving of the sons of men; it is showed us by 
 the descending of the angels into the pool of 
 Eethesda to trouble the water, which as it was at 
 certain seasons, so he that in those seasons first 
 stepped in, he only was made whole of whatsoever 
 disease he had. Jn.v. 4 . It is showed us also in that 
 parable of the Lord’s hiring men to work in his 
 vineyard; which time of hiring, though it lasteth 
 in general from the first hour to the eleventh, yet 
 so as that there were vacant seasons between hir¬ 
 ing-times and hiring-times, quite through the whole 
 day; he went out at the first, third, sixth, ninth 
 and eleventh hour, and not at every hour, to hire 
 labourers. Mat. xx. 1-6. For as God hath appointed 
 out beforehand the number of his elect, so also lie 
 hath determined in his good pleasure the day of 
 their bringing in, and will then have them as cer¬ 
 tainly as the wild ass is found in her month. Ga.i.is, 
 16. iio.vi. li. Je.n. 24 . Of which times and seasons, be¬ 
 cause men are ignorant, therefore they should with 
 all faithfulness wait upon God in all the seasons 
 of his grace for their souls, even as he did for his 
 body; who because he would be there at all seasons, 
 brought thither his bed and couch to rest there. 
 
 Jn. v. 8 . 
 
 Second, As by the fruit of this tree being yielded 
 at certain seasons, we may gather that there are 
 certain seasons in which the word in an especial 
 manner shall be blessed and made successful to 
 the salvation of many souls. So again, in that 
 he saith this fruit is yielded every month, it signi- 
 fieth that in the days of the building of the city, 
 the New Jerusalem, these seasons will be very 
 thick and quick. ‘ Lift up thine eyes,’ saith God 
 to this city, ‘ all they gather themselves together, 
 they come to thee; thy sons shall come from far, 
 and thy daughters’ from the ends of the earth. 
 ‘ All the flocks of Kedar shall be gathered together 
 unto thee ’ so that thou wonderingly shalt say, 
 ‘ Who are these that fly as a cloud, and as the 
 dove3 to their windows !’ is.lx. 4, 7, 8. For‘I will 
 make all my mountains a way, and my highways 
 shall be exalted. Behold these shall come from 
 far; and lo these from the north, and from the 
 
 west, and those from the land of Sinim.’ Is. xiix. 
 
 11 , 12 . 
 
 Third, In that she is said to yield not only fruit, 
 but all manner of fruit; and that not only one 
 manner of fruit now, and another then, but all 
 manner of fruit, and that every month; it argueth 
 also that at this day Jerusalem shall have abun¬ 
 dance of heavenly and spiritual provision, and of 
 variety of dainties for her solace and refreshment; 
 always new, I say, and immediately from the tree. 
 The fruits of the vine shall at that day be upon the 
 mountains of Samaria, and shall be eaten ‘as com¬ 
 mon things,’ saith the prophet. Je. xxxi. 5 . ‘ Fear 
 
 not, 0 land, be glad and rejoice; for the Lord will 
 do great things. Be not afraid, ye beasts of the 
 field, for the pastures of the wilderness do spring; 
 for the tree beareth her fruit; the fig-tree and the 
 vine do yield their strength. Be glad, then, ye 
 children of Zion, and rejoice in the Lord your God; 
 for he hath given you the former’ and the latter 
 ‘rain moderately, and he will cause to come down 
 for you the rain, the former rain and the latter 
 rain in the first month; and the floors shall be full 
 of wheat, and the fats shall overflow with wine and 
 oil. And I will restore to you the years that the 
 locust hath eaten, the canker-worm and the cater¬ 
 pillar, and the palmer-worm’ hath eaten. ‘And 
 ye shall eat in plenty, and be satisfied, and praise 
 the name of the Lord.’ Joelii. 21—25. And then 
 shall every one not only sit under his own vine, 
 and under his own fig-tree, but from thence they 
 shall call each to other, to give to each other 
 their dainties, and none shall make them afraid. 
 Zee. iii. 10 . 
 
 [ The virtue of the leaves . ] ‘ And the leaves of 
 
 the tree were for the healing of the nations.’ By 
 leaves here, we may understand the blessed and 
 precious promises, consolations, and encourage¬ 
 ments, that by virtue of Christ’s undertaking for 
 us, we have everywhere growing upon the new 
 covenant; which promises and encouragements 
 they are and will be most freely handed to the 
 wounded conscience that will be tossed upon the 
 restless waves of doubt and unbelief, as was the 
 olive leaf by the dove brought home to Noah, when 
 he was tossed upon the waves of that outrageous 
 flood that then did drown the world. Ge. vtfi. 
 
 But again, by this word, the leaves, you may 
 conceive that still he hath his eye to the paradise 
 in which at first God placed Adam and his com¬ 
 panion, for it was to leaves they fled for covering 
 after they had transgressed against their Maker. 
 Ge. m. 7 . Now then, in his saying the leaves are for 
 healing; it is as if he had said, the paradise that 
 will be towards the latter end of the world will far 
 outstrip the paradise that first was planted in the 
 beoinmno* thereof; for as the tree of life, which is 
 the Christ and Saviour, shall stand where did the 
 

 THE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 tree of the knowledge of good and evil, which is 
 the old covenant and law of works: so the leaves 
 of this tree shall he for healing, and for covering 
 the nakedness of poor transgressors, though the 
 leaves that Adam found in the first paradise, do 
 what he could, did leave him naked. 
 
 Christ s leaves are better than Adam’s aprons. 
 Ezekiel saitli that these leaves are for medicine, 
 xhii. 12 , that is, they are for healing, saith John; 
 the which may most fitly he applied to the blessed 
 promise of grace. For as a leaf for medicine, when 
 applied to a sore in the body, doth supple, mollify, 
 and heal the wound; so the word of promise, when 
 rightly applied to the soul, it doth supple, mollify, 
 and heal the wounded conscience. ‘He sent his 
 word and healed them, and delivered them from 
 their destructions. 0 that men would praise the 
 Lord^or his goodness, and for his wonderful works 
 to the children of men!’ Ps. evii. 20 , 21 . 
 
 ‘And the leaves/ &c. There is yet another 
 mystery lieth in these words. 
 
 He doth not say, and the fruits thereof are for 
 the healing of the nations, but the leaves, by which 
 he would have us to understand that all the bene¬ 
 fits and privileges that we do receive from Christ, 
 they are as inferior to the glory we shall have from 
 him when we come to heaven, as inferior, I say, 
 as the leaves are to the fruit. Again, the comfort 
 and sweetness that at any time we receive from the 
 Lord, it is not before but after a promise is suitably 
 applied, even as the fruit of the tree with which 
 the body is comforted is not before but after the 
 leaves have put forth themselves. Wherefore 
 Christ might well say to Nathaniel, and that after 
 lie had received some refreshments from a leaf, 
 ‘Thou shalt see greater things than these,’ Jn.i. 50 ; 
 and Paul, that yet ‘a far more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory’ is laid up for all believers. 
 
 2 Cor. iv. 17 . For indeed, indeed, the glory that God 
 hath prepared for us against the day of God, it 
 doth and will more outstrip the most high enjoy¬ 
 ment of the highest saint in New Jerusalem, not¬ 
 withstanding their enjoyment will be so eminent, 
 than doth the sweetest fruit outstrip the leaf that 
 hangeth on that tree. ‘And the leaves of the tree 
 were for the healing of the nations. ’ If the leaves 
 be so good, 0 Lord, let us enjoy the fruit; and not 
 a little, or earnest, but the "whole harvest thereof 
 in thy kingdom. Thus much touching- this water 
 and tree of life. 
 
 \The ease, peace, and tranquillity of the city.] 
 
 ^ er. o. ‘And there shall be no more curse: but 
 the throne of God-shall be in it; and his servants 
 shall serve him.’ This is the conclusion of the 
 whole discourse, and it showeth unto us the blessed 
 effect of the blessed recovering of this city to her 
 fiist and primitive slate. These words, therefore, 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 457 
 
 they are only applicable to this state of the church. 
 For there hath no state of the church been yet in 
 the world but that state hath been liable to a curse; 
 but this state, to wit, the state she will be in at 
 her building again, will bo a state without parallel, 
 a state properly her own. 
 
 ‘ And there shad be no more curse.* By curse 
 in thi3 place we are chiefly to understand, not the 
 taking away of the curse, the eternal curse which 
 separates between God and the soul for ever—for 
 so the curse in this sense hath always been taken 
 away by virtue of the terms, the general terms of 
 the new covenant, and that in common for every 
 saint in all ages. Ga. m. 13 . — but by curse here we 
 are to understand that, or those curses that do, 
 and have frequently befallen the church for her sin 
 and apostasy; as namely, the giving up his people 
 to their own darkness and ignorance; his suffering 
 them to swerve from his true worship and ordin¬ 
 ances : his giving them up into the hand of those 
 that hate them, to become amonty them a hissinc*, 
 a taunt, a reproach, and a by-word, as it is at this 
 
 day. Zep. i. 12—17. Ps. xliii. 28. Je. xxix. 18; xliv. 8, 12. Ills 
 
 taking away from them the means, to wit, the out¬ 
 ward word of the gospel, and suffering them to bo 
 even at the point to famish for the want thereof. 
 Amos viii. 9 - 13 . These and other things are the curses 
 that he here saith shall be no more amoncr his 
 people; for indeed they shall not, because the 
 gospel-pattern shall never be removed more, nor 
 their light to see, nor their love to practise, never 
 be diminished more. Their defence, also, ‘shall be 
 the munition of rocks; bread shall be given them, 
 and their waters shall be sure.’ is. xxxiii. 16. As here, 
 you find the tree and river of the water of life are 
 fixed now in the midst of this city. Wherefore 
 now the church, as I have all along showed you, 
 shall have her sun at the height, her light as the light 
 of seven days, and shall go no more down for ever. 
 Also she shall never be pulled down. She shall 
 be a tabernacle that shall never be pulled down, 
 neither shall one of the cords thereof be loosed, 
 or one of her stakes again removed, is. xxxiii. 20 . 
 
 ‘ There shall be no more curse : but the throne 
 of God shall be in it.’ Indeed, here lieth the 
 reason of all blessedness to any people, even the 
 presence of God. Now the presence of God is 
 with his people, either at times or seasons, or all 
 together. He will not be to this city a God of 
 times and seasons, even like a way-faring man that 
 tarries but for a night, as he used to be to his 
 people of old, but here he will abide, rest, and 
 dwell. Zep. iii. 17. Jc. xiv. 8,9. Zee. ii. 10,11. I will dwell 
 in the midst of Jerusalem, and my house shall be 
 milt in it, saith the Lord. And, again, ‘ I will 
 dwell in the midst of Jerusalem for ever.’ Eze. xliii. 9 . 
 Wherefore John considering this, he saith, there 
 shall be here no more any curse, but the throne of 
 
 53 
 
458 
 
 THE HOLY CITY, OR 
 
 God. God will now, wlicn lie returnetli to Jeru- 
 salem, "bring liis seat with him to signify his sit¬ 
 ting down in the midst of his people, to he their 
 company-keeper for ever. 
 
 [Import of the word throne.] * But the throne 
 of God - shall he in it.’ By this word ‘ throne,’ we 
 are to understand yet further these particular 
 things— 
 
 First. How blessed a state this city will he in 
 at all times for the answer of prayer! The throne 
 of God will he in the midst of them; the throne of 
 grace, the mercy-seat, they will he open now to all 
 the inhabitants of this city; yea, the fame thereof 
 shall so spread that it shall be rumoured among all 
 the nations that in Jerusalem God will be found 
 speedily; that in Jerusalem the God of heaven and 
 eternal mercy is found at all times by them that 
 seek his face. * Mine house,’ said he, ‘ shall be 
 called a house of prayer for all people.’ is. lvi. 7. 
 Yea, many people, and strong nations, shall at that 
 day come to seek the Lord at Jerusalem, and to 
 pray before the Lord. And at that day the very 
 fasts of the house of God ‘ shall he to the house 
 of Judah joy and gladness, and cheerful feasts; 
 therefore, love the truth and peace.’ zee. viii. 19-22. 
 
 Second. The throne of God being now established 
 in this city, what a government, what rule, what 
 a life of holiness and godliness, what dread and 
 majesty will now he in the hearts of all the sons 
 of this city! How to a hair’s-hreadth will he 
 command and guide them with his eye at all times, 
 when they should either turn to the right hand or 
 to the left. What wisdom, I say, what holiness, 
 what grace and life will he found in all their words 
 and actions? is. xiviii. 17. The throne of God is 
 among them, from which there will come continual 
 influence, light, and splendour, into all their hearts. 
 
 ‘ Hear ye the word of the Lord, 0 ye nations, and 
 declare it in the isles afar off, and say, He that 
 scattereth Israel will gather him and keep him, as 
 a shepherd doth his sheep. For the Lord hath 
 redeemed Jacob, and ransomed him from the hand 
 of him that was stronger than he. Therefore they 
 shall come and sing in the height of Zion, and shall 
 flow together to the goodness of the Lord, for 
 wheat, and for wine, and for oil, and for the young 
 of the flock, and of the herd, and their soul shall 
 he as a watered garden, and they shall not sorrow 
 any more at all.’ Je. xxxi. 10—12. 
 
 Third. The throne of God being in this city, 
 there is also thereby discovered what sway and 
 commanding an authority this city will have at 
 this day, as I have already showed you, over all 
 the earth. Is. ii. 9 , 10. * The Lord also shall roar 
 
 out of Zion and utter his voice from Jerusalem, and 
 the heavens and the earth shall shake, but the 
 Lord will he the hope of his people, and the 
 strength of the children of Israel.’ Jociiii. 16. This 
 
 O 
 
 was figured forth hy the throne of Solomon, in the 
 days when that city was in its prosperity ; which 
 throne, to show the majesty and commanding 
 awe that then that city had over all, both far and 
 near, it had, for the hearers of the steps, twelve 
 lions, six on this side, and six on that side of the 
 throne. 1 Ki. 10,18-20. This city shall then he the 
 head and chief, hut the tail and reproach no more.^ 
 
 ‘ Glorious things are spoken of thee, 0 city of God. 
 
 Ps. lxxxvii. 3. 
 
 ‘ And his servants shall serve him .* That is, 
 him only. Indeed his servants serve him always, 
 hut yet withal they do too too often serve with the 
 wills and lusts of men, even in their service and 
 worshipping God; that is, they serve him in much 
 affliction, temptation, fear, and persecution; hut 
 then they shall serve him without any of these. 
 Yea, ‘ they shall take them captives, whose cap¬ 
 tives they were, and they shall rule over their 
 oppressors. And it shall come to pass in the day 
 (0 city) that the Lord shall give thee rest from thy 
 sorrow, - and from the hard bondage wherein thou 
 wast made to serve,’ Is. xiv. 2 , 3 , and thou shalt serve 
 the Lord thy God ‘ without fear, in holiness and 
 righteousness before him all the days of thy life. 
 
 Lu. i. 74, 75. 
 
 ‘ And they shall see his faced This also argueth 
 a very great dispensation of grace and mercy to 
 this Jerusalem. When God did deliver up his 
 people into the hand of the king of Babylon, he 
 said it should he done in fury and in anger, and that 
 for their wickedness he would hide his face from 
 his city. De. xxxi. 17. Je. xxxiii. 5. Wherefore, hy the 
 sight of his face here, we are to understand that 
 glorious visible appearance of God that then will 
 he for this city and people in the face of all the 
 world. 1 Pe. iii. 12. For hy the face of God we are 
 to understand the discovery of his severity, provi¬ 
 dences, and wonderful outgoings among the sons 
 of men. Jobvi. s—13. As also the glorious breaking 
 forth of grace, mercy, and forgiveness through 
 Christ Jesus, all which the people of God shall 
 then most marvellously see and behold. lie. i. 1— 3 . 
 2 Co. iv. 6 . 
 
 First. They shall see his severity and judgments 
 upon the whore. 
 
 Second. They shall see how God, hy his strange 
 judgments and works of wonder, hath brought 
 this about. ‘ Who shall not fear thee, 0 Lord, 
 and glorify thy name ? for thou only art holy: for 
 all nations shall come and worship before thee, for 
 thy judgments are made manifest.’ Re. xv. 4. ‘ They 
 
 that are delivered from the noise of archers in the 
 places of drawing water, there shall they rehearse 
 the righteous acts of the Lord, even the righteous 
 acts towards the inhabitants of his villages in Israel.’ 
 
 Ju. V. 11. 
 
 Third. And as for his mercy, they shall see that 
 
 
TIIE NEW JERUSALEM. 
 
 459 
 
 their liorn is exalted, and that they arc near to 
 him. ‘ Praise ye the Lord.’ rs. cxiviii. 14. 
 
 ‘ And his name shall he in their foreheads.’ 
 And ‘ his name.’ That is, his fear and image, it 
 shall appear in all their doings. Sometimes he 
 saitli he will write his fear and law in their hearts 
 and minds. Which fear and law is all one with 
 that which in this place he calleth his name in 
 their foreheads. The forehead of a man is the 
 place above all parts of the body that is most 
 naked and plain to be beheld of all that pass by; 
 wherefore, when he saitli their Father’s name shall 
 be in their foreheads, it is as if he had said, the 
 profession of my people shall now be open, and the 
 beauty of it apparent to all beholders; ‘ I will make ’ 
 them, saitli God, ‘ a name and a praise among all 
 people of the earth, when I turn back your cap¬ 
 tivity before your eyes.’ Zep. iiL 20 . Every face 
 shall then shine with oil, as well as every heart be 
 replenished with milk and wine. This was held 
 forth by the memorial that the Israelites were to 
 wear, at God’s command, between their eyes; 
 which memorial was the doctrine of unleavened 
 bread and of the paschal lamb, the doctrine of 
 faith and holiness. Ex. xiii. 6 - 9 . 1 Co. v. 8. Wherefore, 
 by name here, he means the faith and holiness of 
 the gospel, which in those days shall walk openly 
 with honour, with reverence, and esteem before 
 all men. At this day the world will, as I have 
 said, be so far off from opposing and persecuting, 
 that they shall wonder, and tremble, and fear before 
 this people; yea, be taken, affected, and pleased 
 with the welfare of this beloved. ‘ The mountains 
 and the hills shall break forth before her into sing¬ 
 ing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their 
 hands.’ Is. lv. 12 . ‘All nations shall call them 
 blessed, for they shall be a delightsome land, saitli 
 the Lord of hosts.’ Mai. m. 12 . The waters of Noah 
 shall now be no more, the tumultuous multitudes 
 shall now be gone, and there will be no more sea. 
 Is. liv. 9 . Ps. lxv. 7; lxxxix. 9 . Re. xxi. 1 , 2 . Now therefore the 
 doves may be gathering their olive-branches, and 
 also find rest for the soles of their feet, while the 
 ark shall rest upon the mountains of Ararat. 
 
 Ge. viii. 4, 5. 
 
 ‘ The wolf also shall (now) dwell with the lamb, 
 and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; the 
 
 calf and the young lion and the fatling together, 
 and a little child shall lead them. - The lion shall 
 eat straw like the ox. And the suckling shall 
 
 O 
 
 play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child 
 shall put his hand on the cockatrice’ den. They 
 shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain, 
 saitli the Lord. ’ is. xi. 6—9; lvi. 2—5. 
 
 Blessed is he whose lot it will be to see this holy 
 city descending and lighting upon the place that 
 shall be prepared for her situation and rest! Then 
 will be a golden world; wickedness shall then be 
 ashamed, especially that which persecutes the 
 church. Holiness, goodness, and truth, shall then, 
 with great boldness, countenance, and reverence, 
 walk upon the face of all the earth. ‘ From the 
 rising of the sun, even unto the going down of the 
 same, my name shall be great among the Gentiles ; 
 and in every place incense shall he offered unto my 
 name, and a pure offering: for my name shall he 
 great among the heathen, saitli the Lord of hosts.’ 
 Mai. i. 11. It will be then always summer, always 
 sunshine, always pleasant, green, fruitful, and 
 beautiful to the sons of God. ‘ And it shall come 
 to pass in that day that the mountains shall drop 
 down new wine, and the hills shall flow with milk, 
 and all the rivers of Judah shall flow with waters, 
 and a fountain shall come forth of the house of the 
 Lord, and shall water the valley of Shittim. - And 
 Judah shall dwell for ever, and Jerusalem from 
 generation to generation.’ Joeliii. is, 20 . ‘And the 
 name of the city from that day shall he, The Lord 
 is there. ’ Eze. xivm. 35. 0 blessedness! ‘ And he 
 
 said unto me, These sayings are faithful and true: 
 and the Lord God of the holy prophets sent his 
 angel to show unto his servants the things that 
 must shortly be done.’ Re. xxii. 6 . 
 
 I conclude therefore with that earnest groan of 
 Moses, the man of God, ‘ 0 satisfy us early with 
 thy mercy, that we may rejoice and be glad all 
 our days. - Make us glad according to the days 
 ivherein thou hast afflicted us, and the years where¬ 
 in we have seen evil. Let thy work appear unto 
 thy servants, and thy glory unto their children. 
 And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon 
 us; and establish thou the work of our hands upon 
 us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it.’ 
 Ps. xc. 14—17. Amen. 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED; 
 
 
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 4 
 
 3 
 
 Jliti 
 
 « it 
 
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 on, 
 
 GOSPEL LIGHT FETCHED OUT OP THE TEMPLE AT JERUSALEM, 
 
 TO LET US MORE EASILY INTO THE GLORY OF NEW TESTAMENT TRUTHS. 
 
 Thou son of man, shew the house to the house of Israel; - shew them the form of the house, and the fashion thereof > and 
 the goings out thereof, and the comings in thereof, and all the forms thereof, and all the ordinances thereof, and all the 
 forms thereof, and all the laws thereof ,'—Ezek. xliii. 10, 11. 
 
 London: Printed for, and sold by George Larkin, at the Two Swans without Bishopgate, 168S. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 Of all the wonders of the world, the temple of 
 Solomon was beyond comparison the greatest and 
 the most magnificent. It was a type of that 
 temple not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, 
 of that city whose builder and maker is God, and 
 which, at the consummation of all things, shall 
 descend from heaven with gates of pearl and street 
 of pure gold as shining glass, and into which none 
 but the ransomed of the Lord shall enter. Jesus, 
 the Lamb of God, shall be its light and glory and 
 temple; within its walls the Israel of God, with 
 the honour of the Gentiles, shall be brought in a 
 state of infinite purity. No unclean thing will be 
 able to exist in that dazzling and refulgent bright¬ 
 ness which will arise from the perfection of holiness 
 in the immediate presence of Jehovah ; and of this, 
 as well as of the whole Christian dispensation, the 
 temple of Solomon was a type or figure. It would 
 have been impossible for the united ingenuity of 
 all mankind, or the utmost stretch of human pride, 
 to have devised such a building, or to have con¬ 
 ceived the possibility of its erection. The plan, 
 the elevation, the whole arrangement of this 
 gorgeous temple, proceeded from the Divine Archi¬ 
 tect. He who created the wondrous universe of 
 nature condescended to furnish the plan, the detail, 
 the ornaments, and even the fashion of the utensils 
 of this stately building. ‘ David gave to Solomon 
 his son the pattern of the porch, and of the houses 
 thereof, and of the treasuries thereof, and of the 
 upper chambers thereof, and of the inner parlours 
 thereof, and of the place of the mercy seat, and 
 the pattern of all that he had by the Spirit, of 
 the courts of the house of the Lord, and of all 
 the chambers round about, of the treasuries of the 
 house of God, and of the treasuries of the dedicated 
 things.’ l Ch. xxviii. li, 12. ‘ Now, behold I have pre¬ 
 pared for the house of the Lord an hundred thou¬ 
 sand talents of gold, and a thousand thousand 
 
 talents of silver; brass and iron without weight, 
 timber and stone also, and all manner of cunning 
 workmen.’ l Ch. xxii. And lest his heart should 
 fail before a work so vast, ‘ David said to Solo¬ 
 mon, Be strong and of good courage, and do it; 
 fear not, nor be dismayed: for the Lord God, even 
 my God, will be with thee; he will not fail thee, 
 nor forsake thee, until thou hast finished all the 
 work for the service of the house of the Lord.’ 
 xxviii. 20 . Thus furnished with wisdom from above, 
 with materials and with cunning workmen, and, 
 above all, with the approbation and protection of 
 his God, Solomon commenced, and eventually 
 finished, this amazing structure, and fitted it to 
 receive the sacred implements, all of which, to the 
 minutest particular, had been made by Moses, 
 
 ‘ after their pattern, which w r as shewed him in the 
 mount.’ Ex. xxv. 40. 
 
 Every part of the building, including the foun¬ 
 dation, its altar, its courts, the holy of holies, all 
 the utensils, and the ark, were types of that more 
 glorious system which, in the fulness of time, ap¬ 
 peared as the antitype, and perfected the Divine 
 revelation. The temple becomes therefore an 
 object of our special attention as a light to guide 
 us while searching into gospel truths. 
 
 Under the peculiar aid of Divine guidance and 
 protection, this sumptuous structure was finished, 
 and most deeply impressive were the ceremonies 
 on the day of its consecration. Solomon had 
 made to himself an everlasting name, and it would 
 be natural to expect that in such a scene of splen¬ 
 did triumph he would have felt exalted to the 
 proudest height that human nature was capable of 
 attaining. But Solomon had not only heard of 
 God by the hearing of the ear, but by internal 
 communion had seen and conversed with him. He 
 could say with Job, when he had been restored 
 from the deepest abasement to an elevated posi- 
 
ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 401 
 
 tion, * Mine eye seetli tliee, wherefore I abhor 
 myself\ and repent in dust and ashes.’ Thus, in 
 Solomon’s beautiful prayer on the dedication of 
 this gorgeous temple, lie humbly inquires, ‘ Will 
 God in very deed dwell vith men on the earth? 
 behold, heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot 
 contain thee; how much less this house that I 
 have built?’ 2 Ch. vi. is. Thus was completed the 
 most perfect, splendid, and magnificent building 
 that was ever erected by human hands. Still it 
 was only a type of that infinitely more glorious 
 antitype, the Christian dispensation. ‘ Most stately 
 and magnificent is the fabric of God’s house, 
 yielding admirable delight to such whom free 
 grace has vouchsafed to give spiritual eyes to dis¬ 
 cern it; far surpassing the splendour of its ancient 
 type, the temple of Solomon, which was once the 
 wonder of the world. ’ x * A greater than Solomon 
 is here.’ ‘ The Branch he shall build the temple 
 of the Lord’—the more glorious, spiritual, eternal 
 temple. Zee. vi. 12. 
 
 In a few hundred years after the temple of 
 Solomon was finished, this sumptuous structure 
 was doomed to destruction, like all the fading 
 handiwork of man. Sin enervated the nation which 
 should have protected it; while the immensity of 
 its riches excited the cupidity of a neighbouring 
 royal robber. It was plundered, and then set on 
 fire; the truth of the declaration made by Job 
 upon the perishable works of man was eminently 
 displayed—‘For man to labour he is born, and 
 the sons of the burning coal they mount up flut¬ 
 tering. ’ 1 2 In a few days the labour of years, aided 
 by unbounded wealth and resources, was reduced 
 to a heap of ashes. And now, after a lapse of 
 about twenty-five centuries, accompanied by John 
 Bunyan, ‘a cunning workman,’ as our guide, we 
 are enabled to contemplate the account given us 
 of this amazing edifice recorded in the volume of 
 truth, and to compare that utmost perfection of 
 human art, aided from heaven, with the infinitely 
 superior temple in which every Christian is called 
 to worship—to enter by the blood of the everlast¬ 
 ing covenant into the holiest of all, the way con¬ 
 secrated by the cross and sufferings of Christ— 
 without the intervention of priest or lordly prelate 
 —without expensive victims to offer as a type of 
 expiation—without limit of time, or space, or 
 place, the poorest and most abject, with the 
 wealthiest—the humbled beggar and the humbled 
 monarch have equal access to the mercy seat, 
 sacrificing those sinful propensities which are the 
 cause of misery, and pleading the Saviour’s merits 
 before the eternal Jehovah. Christ has conse¬ 
 crated the way, and wo enter into the holiest of 
 
 1 Lee’s Solomon's Temple portrayed by Scripture Light. 
 Dedication. 
 
 2 Job v. 7, literally translated from the Hebrew. 
 
 all not only without fear, but with solemn joy. 
 The cost of Solomon’s temple has been estimated 
 at eight hundred thousand millions of money: if 
 this is true, still how infinitely inferior is that vast 
 sum to the inconceivable cost of the eternal temple, 
 with its myriads of worshippers, for which the Son 
 of God paid the ransom, when he made the atone¬ 
 ment for transgression, and huilt that imperish¬ 
 able temple which neither human nor satanic 
 malevolence can ever destroy, and in which every 
 spiritual worshipper will be crowned with an ever¬ 
 lasting weight of glory. 
 
 While we cannot doubt but that the temple and 
 its services contained many types highly illustrative 
 of the Christian dispensation, incautious attempts 
 to find them may lead to fanciful interpretations 
 which tend to cloud, rather than to elucidate gospel 
 truths. Bunyan very properly warns his readers 
 against giving the reins to their imaginations and 
 indulging in speculations like those fathers, who in 
 every nail, pin, stone, stair, knife, pot, and in al¬ 
 most every feather of a sacrificed bird could discern 
 strange, distinct, and peculiar mysteries . 3 The 
 same remark applies to the Jewish rabbies, who in 
 their Talmud are full of mysterious shadows. From 
 these rabbinical flints some have thought to extract 
 choice mystical oil to supple the wheels of their 
 fancy—to use a homely expression. Such Jewish 
 rabbies and Christian fathers limped and danced 
 upon one learned leg, to the amazement of all be¬ 
 holders, but not to their edification; their lucubra¬ 
 tions may amuse those who have patience to read 
 them, but they afford no instruction. Even the 
 learned Samuel Lee, whose work on the temple 
 abounds with valuable information, has strongly 
 tinctured it with pedantry. It is seldom that a more 
 curious jumble is found than in the following para¬ 
 graph:—‘The waxen comb of the ancient figures 
 and typical eels is fully matted and rolled up in 
 shining tapers, to illuminate temple students in 
 finding out the honey that couches in the carcass 
 of the slain Lion of the tribe of Judah.’ There is 
 no fear of Bunyan’s indulging his readers with the 
 vagaries of the Jewish rabbies or Christian fathers 
 —his converse was limited to the prophets and 
 apostles. His object is to make us familiar with 
 those types exhibited in the temple and alluded to 
 by the inspired writers of the New Testament; to 
 use a Puritan expression, he would enable us to 
 plough Avith our spiritual Samson’s heifer to ex¬ 
 pound the riddle, and thus discover the dark patterns 
 of heavenly things. He. ix. 23 , 24 . Among the many 
 striking objects to which Bunyan directs our Avon- 
 dering eyes, a feAV should excite our deeper atten¬ 
 tion Avliile Ave accompany him in vieAving this mar¬ 
 vellous temple. 
 
 3 Lee’s Solomon's Temple , p. 173. 
 
 4 Ibid. p. 1GG. 
 
462 
 
 TO THE CHRISTIAN READER. 
 
 1 . All the materials that were used required pre¬ 
 paration. The stones must be quarried, squared, 
 and fitted for the building with many a hard knock 
 and cutting of the chisel. So must you and I, my 
 readers, pass through the new birth, and be prepared 
 by the Holy Spirit to fit us for the spiritual build¬ 
 ing composed of living stones; and if not made 
 meet for that building, we shall be eventually found 
 lifting up our eyes in torment. 
 
 2 . Very solemn is the consideration insisted on 
 by our author—that all sons are servants to assist 
 in building this spiritual edifice, but all servants 
 are not sons to inherit a place in it; an awful 
 thought, that there have been and now are servants 
 employed in the conversion of sinners, and in build¬ 
 ing up the saints, who never did nor never will 
 worship in that temple. Let us examine ourselves 
 before we enter that dreary abode, to which we are 
 hastening; ‘ for there is no work nor device, nor 
 knowledge, nor wisdom in the grave, whither thou 
 goest.’ Ec. k. io. 
 
 3 . Are we zealously affected to forward the work, 
 be careful then as to the materials we use, ‘ livino* 
 stones not wood, hay, or stubble. May all our 
 persuasions be constantly used to bring poor 
 thoughtless sinners to repentance but introduce 
 them not as members of that house until you have 
 a scriptural hope that they have passed from death 
 unto life—that they are believers in Jesus, and have 
 brought forth fruit meet for repentance. 
 
 4 . All the foundation, the superstructure, the 
 furniture, must be according to the written word 
 
 of the prophets and apostles, Jesus Christ being 
 the chief corner stone. Reject all the inventions 
 of man and all human authority in the worship 
 of God. 
 
 5 . The temple was so built that the worshippers 
 looked to the west toward the holy of holies. Ail 
 the superstitions and idolatrous notions of man lead 
 him to turn to the east, to worship the rising sun. 
 ‘ The heathen made the chief gates of their temples 
 towards the west, that these stupid worshippers, 
 drawing nigh to their blind, deaf, and dumb deities, 
 might have their idols rising upon them out of the 
 east. 71 The temple as a type, and Christianity as 
 the antitype, run counter to such idolatrous absur¬ 
 dities and folly. 
 
 6 . Christian, be content with whatever may be 
 your lot, however humble your place in the church 
 and world. Soon will it be changed for the better. 
 In this world we are working men, and must be 
 content to be clad and fed as such, that we mav 
 be fitted for our solemn and joyful change. Soon 
 we shall put on our churcli-going holiday suit and 
 partake all the dainties of the heavenly feast, the 
 glories of the New Jerusalem. Reader, these are 
 samples of the prominent truths which will occupy 
 your attention, while accompanying Bunyan in 
 your interesting visit to Solomon’s Temple. May 
 you richly enjoy your survey of that astonishing 
 building, under so trusty and experienced a guide. 
 
 Geo. Oeeor. 
 
 1 Lee’s Solomon's Temple, p. 232. 
 
 TO THE CHRIS 
 
 Courteous Christian Reader, 
 
 I have, as thou by this little book mayest see, ad¬ 
 ventured, at this time, to do my endeavour to show 
 thee something of the gospel-glory of Solomon’s 
 temple: that is, of what it, with its utensils, was 
 a type of; and, as such, how instructing it was to 
 our fathers, and also is to us their children. The 
 which, that I might do the more distinctly, I have 
 handled particulars one by one, to the number of 
 threescore and ten; namely, all that of them I 
 could call to mind; because, as I believe, there was 
 not one of them but had its signification, and so 
 something profitable for us to know. 
 
 For, though we are not now to worship God in 
 these methods, or by such ordinances, as once the 
 old church did: yet to know their methods, and 
 to understand the nature and signification of their 
 ordinances, when compared with the gospel, may, 
 even now, when themselves, as to what they once 
 
 TIAN READER. 
 
 enjoined on others, are dead, may minister light to 
 us. And hence the New Testament ministers, as 
 the apostles, made much use of Old Testament 
 language, and ceremonial institutions, as to their 
 signification, to help the faith of the godly in their 
 preaching of the gospel of Christ. 
 
 1 may say that God did in a manner tie up the 
 church of the Jews to types, figures, and simili¬ 
 tudes; I mean, to be butted and bounded 2 by them 
 in all external parts of worship. Yea, not only 
 the Levitical law and temple, but, as it seems to 
 me, the whole land of Canaan, the place of their 
 lot to dwell in, was to them as ceremonial, or a 
 figure. Their land was a type of heaven, their 
 passage over Jordan into it a similitude of our 
 going to heaven by death. He. iii. 5-10. The fruit of 
 their land was said to be uncircumcised. Le. xix. 23. 
 
 2 Legal terms to define the boundaries of an estate, butted 
 upon a common or high road or river, and bounded by the 
 property of another person.—(E d.) 
 
TO THE CHRISTIAN READER. 
 
 463 
 
 As bein^ at their first entrance thither unclean. 
 
 O 
 
 Ex. xii. 15. In which their land was also a figure of 
 another thing, even as heaven was a type of sin 
 and grace . 1 Le. vi. n; xxiii. 17. 
 
 Again, the very land itself was said to keep Sab¬ 
 bath, and so to rest a holy rest, even then when 
 she lay desolate, and not possessed of those to whom 
 she was given for them to dwell in. Le. xxvi. 34, 35. 
 
 Yea, many of the features of the then church of 
 God were set forth, as in figures and shadows, so 
 by places and things, in that land. 1 . In general, 
 she is said to be beautiful as Tirzah, and to be 
 comely as Jerusalem. Ca. vi. 4. 2 . In particular, 
 
 her neck is compared to the tower of David, builded 
 for an armoury. Ca. iv. 4. Her eyes to the fish-pools 
 of Ileshbon, by the gate of Bethrabbim. Her nose 
 is compared to the tower of Lebanon, which look- 
 eth towards Damascus. Ca. vii. 4. Yea, the hair of 
 her head is compared to a flock of goats, which 
 come up from mount Gilead ; and the smell of her 
 garments to the smell of Lebanon. Ca. iv. i, 11. 
 
 Nor was this land altogether void of shadows, 
 even of her Lord and Saviour. Hence he says of 
 himself, * 1 am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of 
 the valleys.’ Ca. ii. 1. Also, she, his beloved, saith 
 of him, ‘ His countenance is as Lebanon, excellent 
 as the cedars.’ Ca. v. 15. What shall I say ? The 
 two cities Sion and Jerusalem, were such as some¬ 
 times set forth the two churches, the true and the 
 false, and their seed Isaac and Ishmael. Ga. iv. 
 
 I might also here show you, that even the gifts 
 and graces of the true church were set forth by the 
 spices, nuts, grapes, and pomegranates, that the 
 land of Canaan brought forth; yea, that hell itself 
 was set forth by the valley of the sons of Hinnom 
 and Tophet, places in this country. Indeed, the 
 whole, in a manner, was a typical and a figurative 
 thing. 
 
 But I have, in the ensuing discourse, confined 
 myself to the temple, that immediate place of God’s 
 worship; of whose utensils, in particular, as I have 
 said, 1 have spoken, though to each with what 
 brevity I could, for that none of them are without 
 a spiritual, and so a profitable signification to us. 
 And here we may behold much of the richness of 
 the wisdom and grace of God; namely, that he, 
 even in the very place of worship of old, should 
 ordain visible forms and representations for the 
 worshippers to learn to worship him by; yea, the 
 temple itself was, as to this, to them a good in¬ 
 struction. 
 
 But in my thus saying, I give no encourage¬ 
 ment to any now, to fetch out of their own fancies 
 figures or similitudes to worship God by. What 
 
 1 Heaven is a type of sin and grace. Had there been no 
 sin, we should have been limited to an earthly paradise; but 
 sin and the grace of a Saviour’s purchase opens heaven to our 
 wondering hearts.— (Ed.) 
 
 God provided to be an help to the weakness of his 
 people of old was one thing, and what they in¬ 
 vented without his commandment was another-, 
 For though they had his blessing when they wor¬ 
 shipped him with such types, shadows, and figures, 
 which he had enjoined on them for that purpose, 
 yet he sorely punished and plagued them when 
 they would add to these inventions of their own. 
 Ex. xxxii. 35 . 2 Ki. xvii. 16 — 18 . Ac. vii. 38 - 43 . Yea, he, in the 
 very act of instituting their way of worshipping 
 him, forbade their giving, in any thing, way to 
 their own humours or fancies, and bound them 
 strictly to the orders of heaven. ‘ Look,’ said God 
 to Moses, their first great legislator, * that thou 
 make all things according to the pattern showed 
 to thee in the mount.’ Ex. xxv. 40 . He. viii. 5 . Nor doth 
 our apostle but take the same measures, when he 
 saith, ‘ If any man think himself to be a prophet, 
 or spiritual, let him acknowledge that the things 
 that I write unto you are the commandments of 
 the Lord.’ lCo. xiv. 37. 
 
 When Solomon also, was to build this temple 
 for the worship of God, though he was wiser than 
 all men, yet God neither trusted to his wisdom nor 
 memory, nor to any immediate dictates from heaven 
 to him, as to how he would have him build it. 
 No; he was to receive the whole platform thereof 
 in writing, by the inspiration of God. Nor would 
 God give this platform of the temple, and of its 
 utensils, immediately to this wise man, lest per¬ 
 haps by others his wisdom should be idolized, or 
 that some should object, that the whole fashion 
 thereof proceeded of his fancy, only he made pre¬ 
 tensions of Divine revelation, as a cover for his 
 doings. 
 
 Therefore, I say, not to him, but to his father 
 David, was the whole pattern of it given from 
 heaven, and so by David to Solomon his son, in 
 writing. ‘Then David,’ says the text, ‘gave to 
 Solomon his son the pattern of the porch, and of 
 the houses thereof, and of the treasuries thereof, 
 and of the upper chambers thereof, and of the 
 inner parlours thereof, and of the place of the 
 mercy-seat, and the pattern of all that he had 
 by the spirit, of the courts of the house of the 
 Lord, and of all the chambers round about, of the 
 treasuries of the house of God, and of the trea¬ 
 suries of the dedicated things: also for the courses 
 of the priests and the Levites, and for all the work 
 of the service of the house of the Lord, and for all 
 the vessels of service in the house of the Lord.’ 
 
 1 Ch. xxviii. 11 — 13 . 
 
 Yea, moreover, he had from heaven, or by Divine 
 revelation, what the candlesticks must be made of, 
 and also how much was to go to each; the same 
 order and commandment he also gave for the 
 making of the tables, flesh-hooks, cups, basons, 
 altar of incense, with the pattern for the chariot 
 
464 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THIS BOOK. 
 
 of the cherubims, &c. ver. 14-19. ‘ All this , said 
 
 David, the Lord made me understand in writing 
 by his hand upon me, even all the work of this 
 pattern, ver. 19. So, I say, he gave David the 
 pattern of the temple, so David gave Solomon the 
 pattern of the temple; and according to that pat- 
 
 tei n did Solomon build the temple, and no other¬ 
 wise. 
 
 True, all these were but figures, patterns, and 
 shadows of things in the heavens, and not the very 
 image of the things; but, as was said afore, if God 
 was so circumspect and exact in these, as not to 
 leave any thing to the dictates of the godly and 
 wisest of men, what! can we suppose he will now 
 admit of the wit and contrivance of men in those 
 things that are, in comparison to them, the 
 heavenly things themselves ? He. viii. 5 ; ix. s-10,23 ; x. 1. 
 
 It is also to be concluded, that since those 
 shadows of things in the heavens are already com¬ 
 mitted by God to sacred story; and since that 
 sacred story is said to be able to make the man of 
 God perfect in all things —2 Ti. iii. 15— 17. — it is duty 
 to us to leave off to lean to common understand¬ 
 ings, and to inquire and search out by that very 
 holy writ, and nought else, by what and how we 
 should worship God. David was for inquiring in 
 his temple.’ Ps. xxvii. 4 . 
 
 And, although the old cliurch-way of worship is 
 laid aside as to us in New Testament times, yet 
 since those very ordinances were figures of tilings 
 and methods of worship now; we may, yea, we 
 ought to search out the spiritual meaning of them, 
 because they serve to confirm and illustrate matters 
 to our understandings. Yea, they show us the 
 more exactly how the New and Old Testament, as 
 
 to the spiritualness of the worship, was as one and 
 the same; only the old was clouded with shadows, 
 but ours is with more open face. 
 
 . Features to the life, as we say, set out by a 
 picture, do excellently show the skill of the artist. 
 The Old Testament had the shadow, nor have we 
 but the very image; both then are but emblems of 
 what is yet behind. We may find our gospel 
 clouded in their ceremonies, and our spiritual 
 worship set out somewhat by their carnal ordi¬ 
 nances. 
 
 Now, because, as I said, there lies, as wrapt 
 up in a mantle, much of the glory of our gospel 
 matters in this temple which Solomon builded; 
 therefore I have made, as well as I could, by com- 
 paiing spiritual things with spiritual, this book 
 upon this subject. 
 
 . 1 dare not presume to say that I know I have 
 hit right in every thing; but this I can say, I 
 have endeavoured so to do. True, I have not for 
 these things fished in other men’s waters; my 
 Bible and Concordance are my only library in my 
 writings. Wherefore, courteous reader, if thou 
 findest any thing, either in word or matter, that 
 thou slialt judge doth vary from God’s truth, let 
 it be counted no man’s else but mine. Pray God, 
 also, to paidon my fault. Do thou, also, lovingly 
 
 pass it by, and receive what thou findest will do 
 thee good. 
 
 And for the easier finding of any particular in 
 the book, I have in the leaves following set before 
 thee the chief heads, one by one; and also in wliat 
 page of the book thou mayest find them. 
 
 Thy servant in the gospel, 
 
 John Bunyan. 
 
 THE CONTENTS OF THIS BOOK. 
 
 1. Where the temple was builded, .' 
 
 2. Who built the temple, 
 
 3. How the temple was built,. 
 
 4. Of what the temple was built,. 
 
 5. Who was to fell the trees, and to dig the stones with 
 whicli the temple was built, . 
 
 6. In what condition the timber and stones were when 
 brought to be laid in the building of the temple, 
 
 7. Of the foundation of the temple, 
 
 8. Of the richness of the stones which were laid for the 
 foundation of the temple, .... 
 
 9. Which way the face of the front of the temple’stood* 
 
 10. Of the courts of the temple, 
 
 11. Of the great brazen altar that stood in the inner 
 court of the temple, .... 
 
 12. Of the pillars which were before the porch of the 
 
 temple, .. 
 
 13. Of the height of these pillars that thus stood before 
 the porch of the door of the temple, . 
 
 PAGE 
 
 465 
 
 466 
 
 467 
 
 468 
 
 469 
 
 470 
 
 471 
 
 14. Of the chapiters of the pillars of the temple, 
 
 15. Of the pomegranates adjoining to the nets on the 
 
 chapiters,. 
 
 16. Of the chains that were upon these pillars that stood 
 before the temple, 
 
 17. Of the lily-work which was upon the chapiters that 
 were upon these pillars of the temple, 
 
 IS. Of the fashion of the temple, 
 
 19. Of the outward glory of the temple, 
 
 20. Of the porch of the temple, 
 
 21. Of the ornaments of the porch of the temple. 
 
 Of the ascent by which they went up into the porch 
 of the temple, ... 
 
 Of the gate of the porch of the temple, 
 
 24. Of the pinnacles of the temple, 
 
 25. Of the porters of the temple, 
 
 26. Of the charge of the porters of the temple more 
 particularly, .... 
 
 27. Of the doors of the temple, 
 
 22 
 
 23 
 
 PAGE 
 
 471 
 
 472 
 
 473 
 
 474 
 
 475 
 
 476 
 
 477 
 
 47S 
 
SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 PAQB 
 
 23. Of the leaves.of this gate of the temple, . .478 
 
 29. What the doors of the temple were made of, . 479 
 
 30. How the doors of the temple were adorned, . . — 
 
 31. Of the wall of the temple, .... 480 
 
 32. Of the garnishing of the temple with precious stones, 481 
 
 33. Of the windows of the temple, ... — 
 
 34. Of the chambers of the temple, .... 482 
 
 35. Of the stairs by which they went up into the cham¬ 
 bers of the temple ...... — 
 
 3G. Of the molten sea which was in the temple, . 483 
 
 37. Upon what the molten sea stood in the temple, . — 
 
 38. Of the lavers of the temple, .... 484 
 
 39. Of the tables in the temple, .... 485 
 
 40. Of the instruments wherewith the sacrifices were 
 
 slain, and of the four tables they were laid on in 
 the temple,.— 
 
 41. Of the candlesticks of the temple, . . . 486 
 
 42. Of the lamps belonging to the candlesticks of the 
 
 temple,.487 
 
 43. Of the shew-bread on the golden table in the 
 
 temple,.— 
 
 44. Of the snuffers belonging to the candlesticks and 
 
 lamps of the temple.488 
 
 45. Of the snuff dishes that were with the snuffers of the 
 
 temple,.489 
 
 46. Of the golden tongs belonging to the temple, . — 
 
 47. Of the altar of incense in the temple, . . 490 
 
 48. Of the golden censers belonging to the temple, . 491 
 
 465 
 
 *AOB 
 
 49. Of the golden spoons of the temple, . . 462 
 
 50. Of the bowls and basons belonging to the temple, 493 
 
 51. Of the flagons and cups of the temple, . . 494 
 
 52. Of the chargers of the temple, .... — 
 
 53. Of the goings out of the temple, . . . 495 
 
 54. Of the singers belonging to the temple, . . 496 
 
 55. Of the union of the holy and most holy temple, 497 
 
 56. Of the holiest or inner temple, . „ — 
 
 57. Of the vail of the temple, . „ * , 498 
 
 58. Of the doors of the inner temple, . * . — 
 
 59. Of the golden nails of the inner temple, . , 499 
 
 60. Of the floors and walls of the inner temple, . . 500 
 
 61. Of the ark of the covenant, which was placed in the 
 
 inner temple,.501 
 
 62. Of the placing of the ark in the holiest or inner 
 
 temple,.502 
 
 63. Of the mercy-seat, and how it was placed in the holy 
 
 temple,.503 
 
 64. Of the living waters of the inner temple, . . 504 
 
 65. Of the chains which were in the oracle or inner 
 
 temple,.— 
 
 66. Of the high-priest, and of his office in the inner 
 
 temple,., . 505 
 
 67. Of the high-priest’s going into the holiest alone, . 506 
 
 68. Of the high-priest’s going in thither but once a year, 507 
 
 69. Of the cherubims, and of their being placed over the 
 
 mercy-seat in the inner temple, . . . 508 
 
 70. Of the figures that were upon the walls, . — 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 ‘ THOU SON OF MAN, SHEW THE HOUSE TO THE HOUSE 
 OF ISRAEL, - SHEW THEM THE FORM OF THE HOUSE, 
 AND THE FASHION THEREOF, AND THE GOINGS OUT 
 THEREOF, AND THE COMINGS IN THEREOF, AND ALL 
 THE FORMS THEREOF, AND ALL THE ORDINANCES 
 THEREOF, AND ALL THE FORMS THEREOF, AND ALL 
 THE LAWS THEREOF.’-EZEK. XLIII. 10 , 11 . 
 
 I. Where the Temple was built. 
 
 The temple was built at Jerusalem, on Mount 
 Moriah, in the threshing-floor of Arnon the Jebu- 
 site; whereabout Abraham offered up Isaac ; there 
 where David met the angel of the Lord, when he 
 came with his drawn sword in his hand, to cut off 
 the people at Jerusalem, for the sin which David 
 committed in his disorderly numbering the people. 
 
 Ge. xxii. 3-5. 1 Ch. xxi. le; xxi. 12. Clu iii. 1. 
 
 There Abraham received his Isaac from the 
 dead; there the Lord was entreated by David to 
 take away the plague, and to return to Israel again 
 in mercy; from wdience, also, David gathered that 
 there God’s temple must be built. ‘ This,’ saith 
 he, is the house of the Lord God, and this is the 
 altar of the burnt-offering for Israel. lCh. xxi. 28 ; 
 
 xxii. 1: iii. 1. 
 
 This Mount Moriah, therefore, was a type of 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 the Son of God, the mountain of the Lord’s house, 
 the rock against which the gates of hell cannot 
 prevail. 
 
 II. Who built the Temple. 
 
 The temple was budded by Solomon, a man 
 peaceable and quiet; and that in name, by nature, 
 and in governing. For so God had before told 
 David, namely, that such a one the builder of the 
 temple should be. * Behold,’ saith he, ‘a son shall 
 be born to thee, who shall be a man of rest; and 
 I will give him rest from all his enemies round 
 about; for his name shall be Solomon, and I will 
 give peace and quietness unto Israel in his days. 
 He shall build an house for my name, and he shall 
 be my son, and I will be his father.’ 1 Ch. xxii. 9 , iff. 
 Ps. Ixxii. 1-4. 
 
 As, therefore, Mount Moriah w r as a type of 
 Christ, as the foundation, so Solomon was a type 
 of him, as the builder of his church. The mount 
 was signal, 1 for that thereon the Lord God, before 
 Abraham and David, did display his mercy. And 
 as Solomon built this temple, so Christ doth build 
 his house ; yea, he shall build the everlasting 
 temple, ‘ and he shall bear the glory. ’ Zee. vi. 12,13. 
 
 59 
 
 1 One of the types or signs.—(E d.) 
 
466 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 lie. iii. 3,4. And in that Solomon was called peace¬ 
 able, it was to show with what peaceable doctrine 
 and ways Christ’s house and church should be 
 
 built. Is. ix. 6. Mi. iv. 2 - 4 . 
 
 III. How the Temple was built. 
 
 The temple was built, not merely by the dictates 
 of Solomon, though he was Aviser than Ethen, and 
 Heman, and Chalcol, and Darda, and all meh. 
 l Ki. iv. 31. But it was built by rules prescribed by, 
 or in a written word, and as so delivered to him 
 by his father David. 
 
 For when David gave to Solomon his son a 
 charge to build the temple of God, with that charge 
 he gave him also the pattern of all in writing; even 
 a pattern of the porch, house, chambers, treasuries, 
 parlours, he., and of the place for the mercy-seat; 
 which pattern David had of God; nor would God 
 trust his memory with it. ‘ The Lord made me,’ 
 said he, * understand in writing, by his hand upon 
 me, even all the works of this pattern.’ Thus, 
 therefore, David gave to Solomon his son the pat¬ 
 tern of all; and thus Solomon his son built the 
 house of God. 1 Cli. xxviii. 9-20. 
 
 And answerable to this, Christ Jesus, the builder 
 of his own house, whose house are we, doth build 
 his holy habitation for him to dwell in; even ac¬ 
 cording to the commandment of God the Father. 
 For, saith he, ‘I have not spoken of myself, but 
 the Father which sent me. He gave me a com¬ 
 mandment what I should speak.’ And hence it is 
 said, God gave him the revelation ; and again, 
 that he took the book out of the hand of him that 
 sat on the throne; and so acted, as to the building 
 up of his church. Ju. xii. 49 , 50 . Re. i. 1 ; v. 5 . 
 
 IY. Of what the Temple was built . 
 
 The materials with which the temple was built, 
 were such as were in their own nature common to 
 that which was left behind; things that naturally 
 were not fit, without art, to be laid on so holy a 
 house. And this shows that those of whom Christ 
 Jesus designs to build his church, are by nature 
 no better than others. But as the trees and stones 
 of which the temple was built, were first hewed 
 and squared before they were fit to be laid in that 
 house, so sinners, of which the church is to be 
 built, must first be fitted by the word and doctrine, 
 and then fitly laid in their place in the church. 
 
 For though, as to nature, there is no difference 
 betwixt those made use of to build God’s house 
 with, yet by grace they differ from others ; even 
 as those trees and stones that are hewed and 
 squared for building, by art are made to differ 
 from those which abide in the wood or pit. 
 
 The Lord Jesus, therefore, while he seeketh 
 materials wherewith to build his house, he findeth 
 them the clay of the same lump that he rejecteth 
 
 and leaves behind. ‘Are we better than they? 
 No, in no wise.’ Ro. iii. 9. Nay, I think, if any be 
 best, it is they which are left behind. * He came 
 not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.’ 
 Mar. ii. 17 . And, indeed, in this he doth show both 
 the greatness of his grace and workmanship; his 
 grace in taking such; and his workmanship in 
 that he makes them meet for his holy habitation. 1 
 
 This the current of Scripture maketh manifest; 
 wherefore it is needless now to cite particulars: 
 only we must remember, that none are laid in this 
 building as they come out of the wood or pit, but 
 as they first pass under the hand and rule of this 
 great builder of the temple of God. 
 
 V. Who was to fell those trees, and to dig those 
 
 stones, with which Solomon built the Temple. 
 
 As the trees were to be felled, and stones to be 
 digged, so there was for that matter select work¬ 
 men appointed. 
 
 These were not of the sons of Jacob nor of the 
 house of Israel; they were the servants of Hiram, 
 king of Tyre, and the Gibeonites, namely, their 
 children that made a league with Joshua, in the 
 day that God gave the land of Canaan to his 
 people. J 03 . ix. 22-27. 1 Ki. v. 1 Ch. xxviii; xxix. 
 
 And these were types of our gospel ministers, 
 who are the men appointed by Jesus Christ to 
 make sinners, by their preaching, meet for the 
 house of God. Wherefore, as he was famous of 
 old who was strong to lift up his axe upon the 
 thick boughs to square wood for the building of 
 the temple ; so a minister of the gospel now is also 
 famous, if much used by Christ for the converting 
 of sinners to himself, that he may build him a 
 temple with them. Ps. vii. 4r-6. Ro. xvi. 
 
 But why, may some say, do you make so homely 
 a comparison? I answer, because I believe it is 
 true; for it is grace, not gifts, that makes us sons, 
 and the beloved of God. Gifts make a minister; 
 and as a minister, one is but a servant to hew wood 
 and draw water for the house of my God. Yea, 
 Paul, though a son, yet counted himself not a son 
 but a servant, purely as he was a minister. A 
 servant of God, a servant of Christ, a servant of 
 the church, and your servants for Jesus’ sake. Tit. 
 
 i. 1. Ro. i. 1. Co. iv. 5. 
 
 A man then is a son, as he is begotten and born 
 of God to himself, and a servant as he is gifted for 
 work in the house of his Father; and though it is 
 truth the servant may be a son, yet he is not a 
 son because he is a servant. Nor doth it follow, 
 that because all sons may he servants, that there- 
 
 1 How universal is this feeling among Christians! * Why 
 
 was I made to hear thy voice,’ while so many more amiable 
 and less guilty * make a wretched choice ? ’ All are equally 
 encouraged—‘ Whosoever will, let him take the water of life 
 freely.’— (Ed.) 
 

 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 407 
 
 fore all servants are sons; no, all tlie servants of 
 God are not sons ; and therefore when time shall 
 come, lie that is only a servant here, shall certainly 
 he put out of the house, even out of that house 
 himself did help to build. * The servant abideth 
 not in the house for ever,’ the servant, that is, he 
 
 that is only SO. Eze. xlvL 16, 17. Jn. viii. 35. 
 
 So then, as a son, thou art an Israelite; as a 
 servant, a Gibeonite. The consideration of this 
 made Paul start; he knew that gifts made him 
 not a son. 1 Co. xii. 2S-31 ; xiii. 1, 2 . 
 
 The sum then is, a man may he a servant and 
 a son; a servant as he is employed hy Christ in 
 his house for the good of others; and a son, as he 
 is a partaker of the grace of adoption. But all 
 servants are not sons; and let this he for a cau¬ 
 tion, and a call to ministers, to do all acts of ser¬ 
 vice for God, and in his house with reverence and 
 godly fear; and with all humility let us desire to 
 be partakers ourselves of that grace we preach to 
 others. 1 Co. ix. 25. 
 
 This is a great saying, and written perhaps to 
 keep ministers humble: ‘And strangers shall stand 
 and feed your flocks, and the sons of the alien shall 
 foyour ploughmen, and your vine-dressers.’ Is.ixi.5 . 
 To be a ploughman here is to be a preacher; and 
 to be a vine-dresser here is to be a preacher. Lu. ix. 
 5.9-62. 1 Co. ix. 27. Mat. xx. 1-4, 8 ; xxi. 28. 1 Co. ix. 7. Alld 
 
 if lie does this work willingly, he has a reward; if 
 not, a dispensation of the gospel was committed to 
 him, and that is all. i Co. ix. 17. 
 
 VI. In what condition the timber and stones were, 
 when brought to be laid in the building of the temple. 
 
 The timber and stones with which the temple 
 was built, were squared and hewed at the wood or 
 pit; and so there made every way fit for that work, 
 even before they were brought to the place where 
 the house should be set up: ‘So that there was 
 neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron heard 
 in the house while it was in building.’ l Ki. vi. 7 . 
 
 And this shows, as was said before, that the 
 materials of which the house was built were, be¬ 
 fore the hand of the lvorkman touched them, as 
 unfit to be laid in the building as were those that 
 ■were left behind; consequently that themselves, 
 none otherwise but by the art of others, were made 
 fit to be laid in this building. 
 
 To this our New Testament temple answers. 
 For those of the sons of Adam who are counted 
 worthy to be laid in this building, are not by na¬ 
 ture, but by grace, made meet for it; not by their 
 own wisdom, but by the Word of God. Hence he 
 saith, ‘ I have hewed them by the prophets. ’ And 
 again, ministers are called God’s builders and 
 labourers, even as to this work. Ho. vi. 5. l Co. iii. 10 j 
 2 Co. vi. 1. Col. i. 28. 
 
 No man will lay trees, as they come from the 
 
 wood, for beams and rafters in his house; nor 
 stones, as digged, in the walls. No; the stones 
 must be hewed and squared, and the trees sawn 
 and made fit, and so be laid in the house. Yea, 
 they must be so sawn, and so squared, that in 
 coupling they may be joined exactly; else the 
 building will not be good, nor the workman have 
 credit of his doings. 
 
 Hence our gospel-church, of which the temple 
 was a type, is said to be fitly framed, and that 
 there is a fit supply of every joint for the securing 
 of the whole. 1 Pe. ii. 5. Ep. ii. 20, 21 ; iv. 16. Col. ii. 19. As 
 they therefore build like children, that build with 
 wood as it comes from the wood or forest, and 
 with stones as they come from the pit, even so do 
 they who pretend to build God a house of uncon¬ 
 verted sinners, unhewed, unsquared, unpolished. 
 Wherefore God’s workmen, according to God’s 
 advice, prepare their work without, and make it 
 fit for themselves in the field, and afterwards build 
 the house. Pr. xxiv. 27. 
 
 Let ministers therefore look to this, and take 
 heed, lest instead of making their notions stoop to 
 the Word, they make the Scriptures stoop to their 
 notions. 
 
 VII. Of the foundation of the Temple. 
 
 The foundation of the temple is that upon which 
 it stood; and it was twofold: First, the hill Moriah, 
 and then those great stones upon which it was 
 erected. This hill Moriah, as was said afore, did 
 more properly typify Christ. Hence Moriah is 
 called ‘The Mountain of the house,’ it being the 
 
 1 
 
 rock on which it was built. Those great stones, 
 called foundation-stones, were types of the prophets 
 and apostles. Mat. xvi. 18. Ep. ii. 20,21. He. xi. io. Wliere- 
 : fore these stones were stones of the biggest size, 
 stones of eight cubits, and stones of ten cubits. 
 
 1 Ki. vii. 10. 
 
 Now, as the temple had this double foundation, 
 so we must consider it respectively and distinctly; 
 for Christ is the foundation one way, the prophets 
 and apostles a foundation another. Christ is the 
 foundation personally and meritoriously; but the 
 prophets and apostles, by doctrine, ministerially. 
 The church then, which is God’s New Testament 
 temple, as it is said to be built on Christ the found¬ 
 ation ; so none other is the foundation but he. 1 Co. 
 iu. n, 12. But as it is said to be built upon the 
 apostles, so it is said to have twelve foundations, 
 and must have none but they. Re. xxL 14. 
 
 What is it. then ? Why, we must be builded 
 i upon Christ, as he is our priest, sacrifice, prophet, 
 j king, and advocate; and upon the other, as they 
 are infallible instructors and preachers of him; not 
 that any may be an apostle that so shall esteem ol 
 himself, nor that any other doctrine be administered 
 but what is the doctrine of the twelve; for they are 
 
468 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 set forth as the chief and last. These are also 
 they, as Moses, which are to look over all the 
 building, and to see that all in this house he done 
 according to the pattern showed to them in the 
 mount. Ex. xxxix. 43. Jn. xx. 21—23. 1 Co. iii. 9 ; iv. 9. 
 
 Let us then keep these distinctions clear, and not 
 put an apostle in the room of Christ, nor Christ in 
 the place of one of those apostles. Let none hut 
 Christ he the high-priest and sacrifice for your 
 souls to God; and none hut that doctrine which is 
 apostolical, he to you as the mouth of Christ for 
 instruction to prepare you, and to prepare materials 
 for this temple of God, and to build them upon 
 this foundation. 
 
 VIII. Of the richness of the stones which were laid 
 for the foundations of the Temple. 
 
 These foundation stones, as they were great, so 
 they were costly stones; though, as I said, of 
 themselves, of no more worth than they of their 
 nature that were left behind. Their costliness 
 therefore, lay in those additions which they re¬ 
 ceived from the kind’s charge 
 
 First, In that labour which was bestowed upon 
 them in sawing, squaring, and carving. For the 
 servants, as they were cunning at this work, so 
 they bestowed much of their art and labour upon 
 them, by which they put them into excellent form, 
 and added to their bigness, glory, and beauty, fit 
 for stones upon which so goodly a fabric was to be 
 built 
 
 Secondly, These stones, as they were thus 
 wrought within and without, so, as it seems to me, 
 they were inlaid with other stones more precious 
 than themselves. Inlaid, I say, with stones of 
 divers colours. According as it is written, I ‘ will 
 lay thy foundations with sapphires.’ Is. liv. n. Not 
 that the foundations were sapphires, but they were 
 laid, inlaid with them; or, as he saith in another 
 place, They were adorned with goodly stones and 
 gifts.’ Lu. xxi. 5. 
 
 This is still more amplified, where it is written 
 of the New Jerusalem, which is still the New Tes¬ 
 tament church on earth, and so the same in sub¬ 
 stance with what is now. ‘ The foundations of the 
 wall of the city,’ saith he, ‘ were garnished with all 
 manner of precious stones.’ Re. xxi. 19 . True, these 
 there are called ‘ The foundations of the wall of 
 the city,’ but it has respect to the matter in hand; 
 for that which is before called a temple, for its 
 comparative smallness, is here called a city, for or 
 because of its great increase; and both the foun¬ 
 dations of the wall of the city, as well as of the tem¬ 
 ple, are ‘ the twelve apostles of the Lamb.’ Re.xxi. 14. 
 
 For these carvings and inlayings, with all other 
 beautifications, were types of the extraordinary 
 gifts and graces of the apostles. Hence the apostle 
 calls such gifts signs of apostleship. Ro. xv . 19. 2 Co. 
 
 xii. 12. lie. ii. 4 . For as the foundation stones of the 
 temple were thus garnished, so were the apostles 
 beautified with a call, gifts, and graces peculiar to 
 themselves. Hence he says, ‘ First apostles ;’ for 
 that they were first and chief in the church of 
 Christ. 1 Co. xii. 28. 
 
 Nor were these stones only laid for a foundation 
 for the temple; the great court, the inner court, as 
 also the porch of the temple, had round about them 
 three rows of these stones for their foundation. iKi. 
 vii. 12 . Signifying, as it seems to me, that the more 
 outward and external part, as well as that more 
 internal worship to be performed to God, should 
 be grounded upon apostolical doctrine and appoint¬ 
 ments. 1 Co. iii. 10-12. 2 Th. ii. 15 ; iii. 6. He. vi. 1—4. 
 
 IX. Which way the face or front of the Temple stood. 
 
 1 . The temple was built with its face or front 
 towards the east, and that, perhaps, because the 
 glory of the God of Israel was to come from the 
 way of the east into it. Eze. xliii. 1-4; xivii. l. Where¬ 
 fore, in that its front stood toward the east, it may 
 be to show that the true gospel church would have 
 its eye to, and expectation from, the Lord. We 
 look, said Paul, but whither? We have ‘our con¬ 
 versation,’ said he, ‘ in heaven,’ from whence our 
 expectation is. 2 Co. iv. 18. rhi. iii. 20 . Fs. lxii. 5 . 
 
 2 . It was set also with its face towards the east, 
 to keep the people of God from committing of 
 idolatry; to wit, from worshipping the host of 
 heaven, and the sun whose rising is from the east. 
 For since the face of the temple stood toward the 
 east, and since the worshippers were to worship at, 
 or with their faces towards the temple, it follows 
 that both in their going to, and worshipping God 
 towards that place, their faces must be from, and 
 their backs towards the sun . 1 The thus building; 
 of the temple, therefore, was a snare to idolaters, 
 and a proof of the zeal of those that were the true 
 worshippers; as also to this day the true gospel- 
 instituted worship of Jesus Christ is. Hence he is 
 said, to idolaters, to be a snare and trap, but to 
 the godly a glory, is. viii. 14 ; lx. 19. 
 
 3 . Do but see how God catched the idolatrous 
 Jews, by this means, in their naughtiness: ‘ And 
 he brought me,’ saith the prophet, ‘into the inner 
 court of the Lord’s house, and behold at the door 
 of the temple of the Lord, between the porch and 
 the altar, were about five and twenty men with 
 their backs toward the temple of the Lord, and 
 their faces towards the east.’ Eze. viii. 16. It was 
 therefore, as I said, set with its face towards the 
 east, to prevent false worship, and detect idolaters . 1 
 
 1 To oppose the customs of heathens, who made their chief 
 gates towards the west, that these stupid worshippers, drawing 
 nigh to their blind, deaf, and dumb deities, might have their 
 idols, as it were, arising upon them out of the east.’—(Lee’s 
 Solomon’s Temple, p. 242 .)—(Ed.) 
 
SOLOMON^ TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 4G9 
 
 4 . From the east also came the most blasting 
 winds, winds that are destructive to man and 
 beasts, to fruit and trees, and ships at sea. Ex. x. 13 . 
 
 Job xxvii. 21. Eze. xvii. 10 ; xix. 12. Ps. xlviii. 7. Eze. xxvii. 26. 
 
 1 say, the east wind, or that which comes from 
 thence, is the most hurtful; yet you see, the temple 
 hath set her face against it, to show that the true 
 church cannot be blasted or made turn back by 
 any affliction. It is not east winds, nor none of 
 their blastings, that can make the temple turn 
 about. Hence he saith that Jacob’s face shall 
 not wax pale. And again, ‘ I have made thy face 
 strong against their faces,’ and that * the gates of 
 hell shall not prevail against it.’ is. xxix. 22. Eze. m. 8. 
 Mat. xvi. 18. 
 
 5 . It might he also built with its face towards 
 the east, to show that the true church looketh, as 
 afore I hinted, for her Lord and King from heaven; 
 knowing, that at his coming he will bring healing 
 in his wings; for from the east he will appear when 
 he comes the second time without sin unto salva¬ 
 tion, of which the sun gives us a memento in his 
 rising there every morning. ‘ For as the lightning 
 cometh out of the east, and shineth even unto 
 the west, so shall also the coming of the Son of 
 
 man be.’ Mat. xxiv. 27. Mai iv. 2. lie. ix.2S. Col.iii.4. 2 Fe. 
 iil 11-14. 
 
 6 . Christ, as the north pole, draws those touched 
 with the load-stone of his word, with the face of 
 their souls towards him, to look for, and hasten to 
 his coming. And this also is signified by the 
 temple standing with its face towards the east. 
 
 X. Of the courts of the Temple. 
 
 I perceive that there were two courts belonging 
 to the temple. The first was called the outward 
 court. Eze. xL 7 ; xlvi. 21. 
 
 1 . This was that into which the people of neces¬ 
 sity first entered, when they went to worship in the 
 temple ; consequently that was it, in and by which 
 the people did first show their desires to be the 
 worshippers of God. And this answers to those 
 badges and signs of love to religion, that people 
 have in face, or outward appearance. Mat. xxiii. 27 . 
 
 2 Co. x. 7. 
 
 2 . In this, though there may sometimes be truth, 
 yet oftener lies and dissimulation: wherefore com¬ 
 monly an outward appearance is set in opposition 
 to faith and truth, as the outward is in opposition 
 to the inner court, and outward to the inner man; 
 and that is, when it is by itself, for then it profits 
 
 nothing. Ro. ii. 28. 1 Co. xiii. 1-3. 2 Co. v. 12. 
 
 3 . Hence, though the outward court was some¬ 
 thing to the Jews, because by outward bodies they 
 were distinguished from the Gentiles; yet to us it 
 is little, for now k he is not a Jew who is one only 
 outwardly.’ Therefore all the time of the Beast’s 
 reign, this court is given to be trodden under foot; I 
 
 for, as I said, outward show will avail nothin"’, 
 when the beast comes to turn and toss up profes¬ 
 sors with his horns. Re. xi. 10-12. 
 
 4 . But as there was an outward, so there was an 
 inner court, a court that stood nearer the temple; 
 and so to the true practical part of worship, than 
 that outward court did. Eze. x. 3; xlvi. 1 . 1 Ki. vi. 36. 
 
 5 . This inner court is that which is called ‘ the 
 court of the priests,’ because it was it in which 
 they boiled the trespass-offerings, and in which 
 they prepared the sin-offering for the people. 2Ch. 
 
 iv. 9. Eze. xlvi. 20. 
 
 6 . This court, therefore, was the place of prac¬ 
 tice and of preparation to appear before God, which 
 is the first true token of a sincere and honest mind. 
 Wherefore here, and not in the outward court, stood 
 the great brazen altar, which was a type of Christ, 
 by whom alone the true worshippers make their 
 approach with acceptance unto God. Also here 
 stood the great brazen scaffold, on which the king 
 kneeled when he prayed for the people, a type of 
 Christ’s prayers for his when he was in the world. 
 
 2 Ch. vi. 13. Jn. xvii. 
 
 7 . Wherefore this court was a type of practical 
 worship, and so of our praying, hearing, and eat¬ 
 ing, before God. There belonged to this court 
 several gates, an east, a south, and a north gate; 
 and when the people of the land went into this 
 court to worship, they were not to go out at that 
 gate by which they came in, but out of the gate 
 over against it, to show that true Christians should 
 persevere right on, and not turn back, whatever 
 they meet with in the way. * He that entereth in 
 by the way of the north gate to worship, shall go 
 out by the way of the south gate ; and lie that en- 
 teretli in by the way of the south gate, shall not 
 return bj r the way of the gate whereby he came in, 
 but shall go forth over against it.’ Eze. xlvi. 9. 
 
 8 . These courts were places of great delight to 
 the Jews, as both feigned and sincere profession is 
 to those that practice therein. Wherefore, when 
 the Jews did enter into these, they did use to do it 
 with praise and pipe, as do both hypocrites and 
 sincere ones. So then, when a man shall tread in 
 both these courts, and shall turn what he seems to 
 be, into what he should be in reality; then, and 
 not till then, he treads them as he should ; for then 
 he makes the outward court, and his treading 
 there but a passage to that which is more inward 
 and sincere. But he that stays in the outward 
 one is but such an one as pleases not God, for 
 that he wants the practice of what he professes 
 with his mouth. 
 
 XI. Of the great brazen altar that stood in the inner 
 court of the Temple. 
 
 1 . In the inner court stood tho great brazen 
 altar which Solomon made. This is evident; for 
 
470 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 that when he "kneeled upon the scaffold there to 
 pray, he kneeled before this altar. See Ex. xi. 6, 29 . 
 
 2 Ch. vi. 13. 2 Ki. xvi. 14. Joel ii. 17. 
 
 2 . This altar seems to be placed about the 
 middle of this court over against the porch of the 
 house; and between it and the temple was the place 
 where Zecliariah was slain. This altar was called 
 * the altar of burnt-offerino-’ and therefore it was 
 
 O 7 X 
 
 a type of Christ in his divinity. For Christ’s body 
 was our true burnt-offering, of which the bodies of 
 the sacrificed beasts were a type; now that altar 
 upon which his body was offered was his Divinity or 
 Godhead; for that, and that only, could bear up 
 that offering in the whole of its suffering; and that 
 therefore, and that only, was to receive the fat, 
 the glory. Hence it is said he, ‘ through the 
 eternal Spirit, offered himself without spot to God.’ 
 
 He. ix. 14. 
 
 3 . For Christ is priest, and sacrifice, and altar, 
 and all. And as a priest he offered, as a sacrifice 
 he suffered, and as God he supported his humanity, 
 in that suffering of all the pains it underwent. Ga. 
 i. 4 ; ii. 20. 1 Pe. iii. 18. He. ix. 14. 
 
 4 . It was then Christ’s Godhead, not the tree, 
 
 » 
 
 that was the altar of burnt-offering, or that by 
 which Christ offered himself an offering and a 
 sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savour. 
 
 5 . That it was not the tree, is evident, for that 
 could not sanctify the gift, to wit, his body; but 
 Christ affirmeth, ‘ that the altar sanctifieth the 
 gift.’ And by so saying, he affirmeth that the 
 altar on which he offered his offering was greater 
 than the offering itself. Mat. xxiii. 19. Now the body 
 of Christ was the gift; for so he saith, I give my 
 flesh for the life of the world. Jn. vi. 
 
 But now, what thing is that which is greater 
 than his body, save the altar, his Divinity on which 
 it was offered ? The tree then was not the altar 
 which sanctified this gift, to make it of virtue 
 enough to make reconciliation for iniquity. Jn. vi. 
 51; xvii. 19. He. ix. 14. Col. i. 19—21. Now, since this altar 
 of burnt-offering was thus placed in the inner court, 
 it teaches us several things: 
 
 First, That those that come only into the out¬ 
 ward court, or that rest in a bare appearance of 
 Christianity, do not, by so doing, come to Jesus 
 Christ; for this altar stands not there. Hence 
 John takes notice only of the temple and this altar, 
 and them that worship therein, and leaves out the 
 outward court, and so them that come no farther. 
 
 lie. xi. 1, 2. 
 
 Second. This teaches us also that we are to 
 enter into that temple of God by blood. The 
 altar, this altar of burnt-offering, stood as men 
 went into the temple; they must go by it; yea, 
 there they must leave their offering, and so go in 
 and worship, even as a token that they came thither 
 by sacrifice and by blood. 
 
 Third. Upon this altar Solomon, at the dedica¬ 
 tion of the temple, offered thousands, both of oxen 
 and of sheep, to signify, surely, the abundant worth 
 and richness that would be in the blood of Christ 
 to save when it should be shed for us. For his 
 blood is spoken of with an ‘ how much more.’ * For 
 if the blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of 
 an heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the 
 purifying of the flesh, how much more shall the 
 blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit 
 offered himself without spot to God, purge your 
 conscience from dead works, to serve the living 
 God ! ’ He. ix. 13, 14 ; x. i. 12. 2 Ch. vii. 5-3, 
 
 Let us then not dare to stop or stay in the out¬ 
 ward court, for there is not this altar. Nor let us 
 dare, when we come into this court, to be careless 
 whether we look to this altar or no. For it is by 
 blood we must enter; ‘ for without shedding of 
 blood is no remission.’ Let us always then, when 
 we come hither, wash our hands in innocency, and 
 so compass this holy altar: for that by Christ, who 
 is the altar indeed, we are reconciled to God. This 
 is looking to Jesus ; this is coming to God by him, 
 of whom this altar and the sacrifice thereon was a 
 type. 
 
 XII. Of the pillars that were before the porch of 
 
 the Temple. 
 
 There were divers pillars belonging to the tem¬ 
 ple ; but in this place we are confined to speak of 
 only two; namely, those which stood before the 
 temple. 
 
 These pillars stood before the porch or entrance 
 into the temple, looking towards the altar, the 
 court, and them that were the worshippers there; 
 also they were a grace and beauty to the front of 
 the house. 
 
 1 . These pillars stood, one on the right hand 
 and the other on the left, at the door of the porch 
 of the temple, and they had names given them, 
 you may be sure, to signify something. The name 
 of that on the right hand was called Jachin , he 
 [God] shall establish; and the name of that on 
 the left hand was Boaz, in it is strength. 1 Ki. ni. 
 
 21. 2 Ch. iii. 17. 
 
 2 . These two pillars were types of Christ’s 
 apostles; of the apostles of circumcision, and of 
 the uncircumcision. Therefore the apostle Paul 
 also calleth them pillars, Ga. ii., and saith that that 
 pillar on the right hand was a type of himself and 
 his companions, who were to go to the uncircum¬ 
 cised, and teach the Gentiles the way of life. When 
 James, Cephas, and John, saith he, ‘ who seemed 
 to be pillars, perceived the grace that was given 
 unto me, they gave to me and Barnabas the right 
 hand of fellowship, that we should go unto the 
 heathen, and they unto the circumcision.’ Ga.ii.9. 
 So then, these two pillars were types of these two 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 471 
 
 orders of the apostles in this their divers service 
 for God. 1 
 
 3 . And that Paul and Barnabas were signified 
 h J those on the right hand, to wit, to ho the 
 apostles of the Gentiles, he showeth again, where 
 he saith, I am * the minister of Jesus Christ to the 
 Gentiles, ministering the gospel of God, that the 
 offering up of the Gentiles might he acceptable, j 
 being sanctified by the Holy Ghost.’ Ro. xi. 13; xv. ig. 
 
 4 . And since the name of this pillar was Jachin, 
 God shall establish, as it showeth that opposition 
 shall attend it; so also, that God would bless his 
 word preached by them to the Gentiles, to the 
 conversion of numbers of them, maugre the opposi¬ 
 tion of the enemy. 
 
 5 . This is further implied, for that they were 
 made of brass; as he saith of the prophet, I have 
 made thee a fenced brazen wall, an iron pillar ; and 
 their fighting against thee shall nothing at all pre¬ 
 vail. Je. xv. 20. Wherefore Paul says of himself, ‘ I 
 am set for the defence of the gospel,’ ‘that the 
 truth thereof might continue with you.’ rhi. l n. 
 
 Ga. ii. 5. 
 
 XIII. Of the height of these 'pillars that thus stood 
 before the porch of the door of the Temple. 
 
 The pillars were eighteen cubits high a-piece, 
 and that is as high, yea, as high again as the 
 highest giant that ever we read of in the Word; 
 for the highest of which we read was but six cubits 
 and a span. True, the bedstead of Og Avas nine 
 cubits long, but I troAV the giant himself Avas 
 shorter. De. m. n. 2 Ch. m. is. 2 But put the longest 
 to the longest, and set the one upon the shoulders 
 of the other, and yet each pillar Avas higher than 
 they. 
 
 We have now, as I knoiv of, but few that remain 
 of the remnant of the giants; and though they 
 boast as if they Avere higher than Agag, yet these 
 pillars are higher than they. These pillars are the 
 highest; you may equal them; and an inch above 
 is Avorth an ell below. The height therefore of 
 these pillars is, to show us what high dignity God 
 did put upon those of his saints Avhom he did call 
 to be apostles of the Lamb: for their office and call 
 thereto is the highest in the church of God. These 
 men, I say, were made thus high by their being 
 cast in such a mould. Of that Avhich added yet 
 further to their height Ave will speak anon; we 
 
 1 ‘There were two pillars, which some resemble to the two 
 states of the church—Jewish and Christian; others understand 
 magistracy and ministry.’—(Lee’s Temple, 1659, p. 281.)—(Ed.) 
 
 2 The height of these pillars was thirty-five cubits each, 
 iucluding the base and chapiter. The base, ornamented with 
 
 lines or net-work, twelve cubits; the column eighteen cubits, 
 and the chapiter five cubits, making the height thirty-five 
 cubits; while the column or pillar, cast by itself, was only 
 eighteen. This reconciles the apparent discrepancy between 
 
 1 Ki. vii. 15 and 2 Ch. iii. 15.—(Ed.) 
 
 only speak now of tbc high call by wlilcli they, and 
 only they, Avere made capable of apostolic authority. 
 The apostles were sent immediately , 3 their call Ava3 
 extraordinary, their office Avas universal; they had 
 alike power in all churches, and their doctrine Avas 
 infallible. Ac. xxvi. 16.1 Co. ix. 1. Ga. i. 1. 1 Jn. i. 1—3. Jd. ii. 23. 
 
 And Avhat can our pretended giants do or say in 
 comparison of these? The truth is, all other men 
 to these are dwarfs, are low, dark, Aveak, and 
 beneath, not only as to call and office, but also as 
 to gifts and grace. This sentence, ‘ Paul, an 
 apostle of Jesus Christ,’ drowneth all! What now 
 are all other titles of grandeur and greatness, Avhen 
 compared Avith this one sentence? 
 
 True, the men were but mean in themselves ; for 
 Avhat is Paul or Avhat Apollos, or Avhat Avas James 
 or John? Yet by their call to that office they Avere 
 made highest of all in the church. Christ did raise 
 them eighteen cubits high ; not in conceit; for so 
 there are many higher than they, but in office, and 
 calling, and Divine authority. 
 
 And observe it, these stand at the door, at the 
 entering into the temple of God, at which they 
 enter that go in thither to worship God, to shew 
 that all right worship, and that which Avill be 
 acceptable to God, is by, or according to, their 
 - doctrine. 
 
 XIV. Of the chapters (capitals) of the pillars of 
 
 the Temple. 
 
 There Avere also two chapiters made for the pil¬ 
 lars of the temple; for each, one; and they were 
 five cubits high apiece. These Avere for the adorn¬ 
 ing of the pillars, and therefore Avere types and 
 shadows of that abundance of grace which God did 
 put upon the apostles after the resurrection of our 
 Lord. Wherefore, as he saith here, the chapiters 
 Avere upon the pillars; so it saith that great grace 
 Avas upon all the apostles. Ac. iv. 33. 
 
 These chapiters had belonging to them a bowl 
 made pummil-fashion , 4 and it was placed upon the 
 head of them, perhaps to signify their aptness to 
 receive, and largeness to contain of the deAv of 
 heaven ; that shadow of the doctrine of the gospel; 
 which doctrine the apostles, as the chief, Avere to 
 receive and hold forth to the Avorld for their con¬ 
 version. Hence, as the bowls Avere capable to 
 receive the dew of heaven, these are said to receive 
 ‘ grace and apostlesliip for obedience to the faith 
 among all nations, for his name.’ Ro.i. 5. l Ki. vii. 16,42. 
 2 Ch. iv. 13. De. xxxii. 10. Ro. xv. 29. 
 
 There Avas also upon these chapiters a net-work, 
 or nets like unto chequer-work, Avhieli still added 
 to their lustre. These nets Avere they Avhich sheAved 
 for AYliat intent the apostolical office Avas ordained ; 
 
 3 Immediately, or by Christ himself. —(Ed.) 
 
 4 Puminil, or pommel, round like an apple.—(E d.) 
 
472 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 namely, that by their preaching they might bring 
 many souls to God. And hence Christ calls them 
 fishermen, saying, ‘Ye shall catch men.’ Mat.iv.i 9 . 
 Mar. i. 17 . Lu. v. 10 . sco.xii. 16. The world is compared 
 to a sea, men to fishes, and the gospel to a net. 
 Eze. xivii. 10 — 12 . Mat. xiii. 47—50. As therefore men 
 catch fish with a net, so the apostles caught men 
 by their word, which word, as I told you, to me is 
 signified by this net-work upon the top of tliesn 
 pillars. See therefore the mystery of God in these 
 things. 
 
 XV. Of the pomegranates adjoined to these nets on 
 
 the chapiters. 
 
 There were also joined to these nets upon the 
 top of the pillars pomegranates in abundance; four 
 hundred for the net-work. Pomegranates, you 
 know, are beautiful to look on, pleasant to the 
 palate, comfortable to the stomach, and cheering by 
 
 their juice. 1 Ki. vii. 42. Ca. iv. 3; viii. 2; iv. 13; vi. 11; vii. 12, 
 
 There were to be two rows of these pomegranates 
 for one net-work, and so two rows of them for the 
 other. 
 
 And this was to show that the net of the gospel 
 is not an empty thing; but is sufficiently baited 
 with such varieties as are apt to allure the world to 
 be catched by them. The law is but a sound of 
 words, but the gospel is not so; that is, baited 
 with pomegranates; with variety of excellent 
 things. Hence it is called ‘ the gospel of the 
 kingdom,’ and ‘ the gospel of the grace of God,’ 
 because it is, as it were, baited with grace and 
 glory, that sinners may be allured, and may be 
 taken with it to their eternal salvation. Mat. xxiv. 14 . 
 
 Ac. xx. 24. 
 
 Grace and glory, grace and glory! these are the 
 pomegranates with which the word of the gospel is 
 baited, that sinners may be taken and saved there¬ 
 by. The argument of old was ‘milk and honey;’ 
 that was, I say, the alluring bait, with which Moses 
 drew six hundred thousand out of Egypt, into the 
 wilderness of old. Ex. m. 8 . But behold we have 
 pomegranates, two rows of pomegranates; grace 
 and a kingdom, as the bait of the holy gospel; no 
 wonder, then, if, when men of skill did cast this 
 net into the sea, such numbers of fish have been 
 catched, even by one sermon. Ac. ii. They baited 
 their nets with taking things, things taking to the 
 eye and taste. 
 
 Nets are truly instruments of death, but the net 
 of the gospel doth catch to draw from death; where¬ 
 fore this net is contrary; life and immortality is 
 brought to light through this. No marvel, then, if 
 men are so glad, and that for gladness they leap 
 like fishes in a net, when they see themselves 
 catched in this drag of the holy gospel of the Son 
 of God. They are catched from death and hell, 
 catched to live with God in glory! 
 
 XVI. Of the chains that were upon these pillars that 
 stood before the Temple. 
 
 As there were nets to catch, and pomegranates 
 to bait, so there were chains belonging to these 
 chapiters on these pillars. ‘ And he made chains, 
 as in the oracle, and put them upon the head of 
 the [pillars],’ or chapiters. 2 Ch. Hi. ig. 
 
 But what were these chains a type of ? I 
 answer, they were, perhaps, a type of those bonds 
 which attend the gospel, by which souls taken are 
 tied fast to the horns of the altar. Gospel grace, 
 and gospel obligations, are ties and binding things; 
 they can hold those that are entangled by the 
 word. ‘ Love is strong as death;’ bands of love, 
 and the cords of a man, and chains take hold on 
 them that are taken by the gospel, iio. xi. Ca. viii. 6 . 
 
 But this strength to bind lieth not in outward 
 force, but in a sweet constraint, by virtue of the 
 displays of undeserved love. ‘ The love of Christ 
 constraineth us.’ 2 Co. v. 14. Wherefore as you find 
 the nets, so the chains had pomegranates on them. 
 
 ‘ And he ‘ made an hundred pomegranates, and 
 put them upon the chains.’ 2 Ch. m. ie. The chains 
 then had baits, as well as the nets, to show that 
 the bands of the gospel are unresistible goodnesses; 
 such with which men love to be bound, and such 
 as they pray they may be held fast by. He binds 
 his foal to the vine; his saint unto this Saviour. 
 
 Ge. xlix. 11. 
 
 By these chains there is therefore showed what 
 strength there is in gospel-charms, if once the 
 adder doth but hear them. Never man yet was 
 able to resist them that well did know the mean¬ 
 ing of them. They are mighty to make poor men 
 obedient, and that in word and deed. These chains 
 were such as were in the oracle, to show that gospel 
 bonds are strong as the joys of heaven, and as the 
 glories there; can make them chains as in the 
 oracle, as in the most holy place. It is heaven 
 that binds sinners on earth to the faith and hope 
 of the gospel of Christ. 
 
 XVII. Of the lily work which was upon the chapi¬ 
 ters, that were upon these pillars of the Temple. 
 
 These pillars were also adorned with lily work, 
 as well as with pomegranates and chains. ‘ The 
 chapiters that were upon the top of the pillars 
 were of lily work ;’ ‘ so was the work of the pillars 
 finished.’ 1 Ki. vii. 19 - 22 . 
 
 This lily work is here put in on purpose, even 
 to show us how far off those that were to be the 
 true apostles of the Lamb should be from seeking 
 carnal things, or of making their prevailing 1 a 
 stalking-horse to worldly greatness, and that'pre- 
 
 1 In all the editions of this book published since the author’s 
 death, these words are altered to ‘ their preaching.’— (Ed.) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 473 
 
 ferment. There was lily work upon them; that 
 is, they lived upon the bounty and care of God, 
 and were content with that glory which he had put 
 upon them. ‘The lilies,’ saith Christ, ‘they toil 
 not, neither do they spin, and yet - Solomon in all 
 his glory was not arrayed like one of these.’ Mat, 
 vi. 28 , 23 . Lu. xii. 27 - 23 . Thus, therefore, these pillars 
 show, that as the apostles should be fitted and 
 qualified for their work, they should be also freed 
 from cares and worldly cumber; they should be 
 content with God’s providing for them, even as the 
 goodly lilies are. And as thus prepared, they were 
 set in the front of the house, for all ministers to 
 see and learn, and take example of them how to 
 behave themselves as to this world in the per¬ 
 forming of their office. 
 
 And that which gives us further light in this is, 
 that this lily work is said, by divine institution, to 
 be placed ‘ over against the belly,’ the belly of the 
 pillars, a typo of ours. 1 Ki. vii. 20 . The belly is a 
 craving thing; and these things, saith the text, 
 were placed over against the belly, to teach that 
 they should not humour, but put check unto the 
 havings and cravings of the belly; or to show that 
 they need not do it, for that he that calls to his 
 work will himself provide for the belly. It is said 
 of the church, that * her belly is like a heap of 
 wheat set about with lilies.’ Ca. vii. 2 . To show that 
 she should without covetousness have sufficient, if 
 she would cast all her care upon God, her great 
 provider. This the apostles did, and this is their 
 glory to this day. 
 
 * So was the work of the pillars finished.’ To 
 live lily lives, it seems, is the glory of an apostle, 
 and the completing of their office and service for 
 God. But this directly opposite to the belly, over 
 against the belly, and this makes it the harder 
 work. But yet, so living is the way to make all 
 that is done sweet-scented, to those that be under 
 this care. Covetousness makes a minister smell 
 fro wish, 1 and look more like a greedy dog, than 
 an apostle of Jesus Christ. Judas had none of 
 this lily work; so his name stinks to this day. 
 
 * He that grows like the lily shall cast forth his 
 scent like Lebanon, his branches shall spread, and 
 his beauty shall be as the olive tree, and his smell 
 as Lebanon, iio. xiv. 6. Thus lived Christ, first; 
 and thus the apostles, next; nor can any other as 
 to this, live like, or be compared to them. They 
 coveted no man’s silver or gold, or apparel. They 
 lived like lilies in the world, and did send forth 
 their scent as Lebanon. 
 
 Thus you see of whom these pillars were a 
 shadow, and what their height, their chapiters, 
 
 1 Frowish, or frowzy, fetid, musty. Alas! how many mini¬ 
 sters there are who are afflicted with this unsavoury smell. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 their bowls, their nets, their chains, their pome¬ 
 granates, and their lily work did signify, and how 
 all was most sweetly answered in the antitype. 
 These were men of the first rate; the apostles, I 
 mean, were such. 
 
 XVIII. Of the fashion of the Temple, 
 
 Of the length and breadth of the temple I shall 
 say nothing; hut as to the height thereof, thcro 
 metliinks I see something. The temple was higher 
 than the pillars, and so is the church than her 
 officers; I say, consider them singly as officers, 
 though inferior as to gifts and office; for, as I said 
 before of ministers in general, so now I say the 
 same of the apostles, though as to office they were 
 the highest, yet the temple is ahovo them. Gifts 
 and office make no men sons of God; as so, they 
 are but servants, though these were servants of 
 the highest form. It is the church, as such, that 
 is the lady, a queen, the bride, the Lamb’s wife; 
 and prophets, apostles, and ministers, &c., are but 
 servants, stewards, labourers for her good. rs. xiv. 3. 
 Re. xix. 7 . 1 Co. iii. 5 ; iv. l. 2 . As therefore the lady is 
 above the servant, the queen above the steward, 
 or the wife above all her husband’s officers, so is 
 the church, as such, above these officers. The 
 temple was higher than the pillars. 
 
 Again, as the temple was highest, so it enlarged 
 itself still upward; for as it ascended in height, so 
 it still was wider and wider; even from the lowest 
 chambers to the top. 
 
 The first chambers were but five cubits broad, 
 the middle ones were six, but the highest were 
 seven cubits. 1 Ki. vi. 5, 6. The temple therefore was 
 round about above some cubits wider than it was 
 below; for ‘ there was ail enlarging and winding 
 about still upward to the side chambers, for the 
 winding about - went still upward round about the 
 bouse; therefore the breadth of the house was stilt 
 upward, and so increased from the lowest chambers 
 to the highest, by the midst. Ezo. xii. 7 . 
 
 And this was to show us that God’s true gospel 
 temple, which is his church, should have its en¬ 
 largedness of heart still upward, or most for 
 spiritual and eternal things; wherefore he saith, 
 
 ‘ Thy heart shall fear and be enlarged,’ that is, be 
 most affected with things above, ‘ where Christ 
 sitteth on the right hand of God.’ is. ix. 5. Col. m. 1 . 
 Indeed it is the nature of grace to enlarge itself 
 still upward, and to make the heart widest for the 
 things that are above. The temple therefore was 
 narrowest downwards, to show mat a little of earth, 
 or this world, should serve the church of God. 
 And having food and raiment, lot us l>e therewith 
 content. 
 
 But now, upwards, and as to heavenly things, 
 wc are commanded to he covetous, as to them, and 
 after them to enlarge ourselves, both by the fashion 
 
 GO 
 
474 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 of the temple, as by express words, l Ki. iv. 29. is. lx. 5. 
 
 Phi. iii. 14. 1 Co. xii. 31. 1 Ti. vi. 8. Ps. cxix. 32. 
 
 Since, then, the temple was widest upward, let 
 us imitate it, and have our conversation in heaven. 
 Let our eyes, our ears, our hands, and hearts, our 
 prayers, and groans, be most for things above. 
 Let us open our mouths, as the ground that is 
 chapt doth for the latter rain, for the things that 
 are eternal. Jobxxix. 23 . Ps.ixxxi. 10. 
 
 Observe again, that the lowest parts of the 
 temple were the narrowest part of the temple; so 
 those in the church who are nearest, or most con¬ 
 cerned with earth, are the most narrow-spirited as 
 to the things of God. But now let even such a 
 one be taken up higher, to above, to the upper¬ 
 most parts of the temple, and there he will be en¬ 
 larged, and have his heart stretched out. For the 
 temple, you see, was widest upwards; the higher, 
 the more it is enlarged. Paul being once caught 
 up into paradise, could not but be there enlarged. 
 
 2 Co. xii. 
 
 One may say of the fashion of the temple, as 
 some say of a lively picture, it speaks. I say, its 
 form and fashion speaks; it says to all saints, to 
 all the churches of Christ, open your hearts for 
 heaven, be ye enlarged upwards! 
 
 I read not in Scripture of any house, but this 
 that was thus enlarged upwards; nor is there any¬ 
 where, save only in the church of God, that which 
 doth answer this similitude. All other are widest 
 downward, and have the largest heart for earthly 
 things. The church only is widest upward, and 
 has its greatest enlargements towards heaven. 
 
 XIX. Of the outward glory of the Temple. 
 
 I do also think, that as to this, there was a 
 great expression in it; I mean, a voice of God, a 
 voice that teacheth the New Testament church to 
 carry even conviction in her outward usages that, 
 I say, might give conviction to the world. And 
 besides this of its enlarging upwards, there was 
 such an outward beauty and glory put upon it, as 
 was alluring to beholders. The stones were curi¬ 
 ously carved, and excellently joined together; its 
 outward show was white and glittering, to the 
 dazzling of the eyes of the beholders; yea, the 
 disciples themselves were taken with it, it was so 
 admirable to behold. Hence it is said, they came 
 to Christ to show him the building of the temple. 
 * Master,’ said they, ‘ see what manner of stones, 
 and what buildings are here. ' Mat. xxiv. 1. Mar. xiii. 1. 
 Lu. xxi. 5. And hence it is said, that kings, and the 
 mighty of the earth, were taken with the glory of 
 it. ‘Because of thy temple at Jerusalem, shall 
 kings bring presents unto thee;’ as it is. Ps. 
 
 lxviii. 29, 31. 
 
 Kings, Gentile kings, they shall be so taken 
 with the sight of the outward glory of it; for they 
 
 were not suffered to go into it; no uneircumciscd 
 were admitted in thither. It was therefore the 
 outward glory of it with which the beholders were 
 thus taken. 
 
 Her enlarging upward, as that was to show us 
 what the inward affections of Christians should be, 
 so her curious outward adorning and beauty was a 
 figure of the beauteous and holy conversation of 
 the godly. Col. iii. 1—3. And it is brave, when the 
 world are made to say of the lives and conversa¬ 
 tions of saints, as they were made to say of the 
 stones and outward building of the temple, Behold, 
 what Christians, and what goodly conversations 
 are here! I say it is brave when our light so 
 shines before men, that they seeing our good 
 works shall be forced to glorify our Father which 
 is in heaven. Mat. v. 16. 
 
 Hence this is called our adorning wherewith we 
 adorn the gospel, and that by which we beautify 
 it. Tit. ii. 10. This, I say, is taking to beholders, 
 as tvas this goodly outside of the temple. And 
 without this, what is to be seen in the church of 
 God ? Her inside cannot be seen by the world, 
 but her outside may. Now, her outside is very 
 homely, and without all beauty, save that of the 
 holy life; this only is her visible goodliness. This 
 puts to silence the ignorance of foolish men. This 
 allureth others to fall in love with their own sal¬ 
 vation, and makes them fall in with Christ against 
 the devil and his kingdom. 
 
 XX. Of the porch of the Temple. 
 
 We come next to the porch of the temple that 
 is commonly called Solomon’s. 1 . This porch was 
 in the front of the house, and so became the com¬ 
 mon way into the temple, l Ki. vi. 3. 2 Ch. iii. 4 . 2 . 
 
 This porch therefore was the place of reception in 
 common for all, whether Jews or religious prose¬ 
 lytes, who came to Jerusalem to worship. Ac. iii. ii; 
 v. 12. 3 . This porch had a door or gate belonging 
 
 to it, but such as was seldom shut, except in de¬ 
 clining times, or when men put themselves into a 
 rage against those better than themselves. 2Ch. 
 xxix. 7 . Ac. xxi. 28-30. 4 . This gate of this porch was 
 
 called Beautiful, even the Beautiful gate of the 
 temple, and was that at which the lame man lay, 
 to beg for an alms of them that went in thither to 
 worship. Ac. iii. 1 , 2 , 10. 
 
 Now then, since this porch was the common 
 place of reception for all worshippers, and the 
 place also where they laid the beggars, it looks as 
 if it were to be a t} ? pe of the church’s bosom for 
 charity. Here the proselytes were entertained, 
 here the beggars were relieved, and received alms. 
 These gates were seldom shut; and the houses of 
 Christian compassion should be always open. This 
 therefore beautified this gate, as charity beautifies 
 any of the churches. Largeness of heart, and 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 tender compassion at the church-door, is excellent; 
 it is the bond of perfectness. lCo. xii. si; xiii. l—4. lie. 
 xiii. 1—3. Jn. v. 6, 7. Col. iii. 14. 
 
 The church-porch to this day is a coming in for 
 beggars, and perhaps this practice at first was 
 borrowed from the beggars lying at the temple- 
 gate. This porch was large, and so should the 
 charity of the churches be. It was for length the 
 breadth of the temple, and of the same size with 
 ‘the Holiest of all.’ lKi.vi.3. 2Ch.iii.4. The first 
 might be to teach us in charity we should not be 
 niggardly, but, according to the breadth of our 
 ability, we should extend it to all the house; and 
 that in our so doing, the very emblem of heaven 
 is upon us, of which the holiest was a figure. ‘As 
 we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto 
 all, ’ &C. Ga. vi. 10. 
 
 It is a fine ornament to a true church to have 
 a large church-porch, or a wide bosom, for recep¬ 
 tion of all that come thither to worship. 1 This 
 was commanded to the Jews, and their glory shone 
 when they did accordingly: ‘And it shall come to 
 pass, that in what tribe the stranger sojourneth, 
 there shall ye give him his inheritance, saith the 
 Lord God.’ Eze. xlvii. 23. 
 
 This porch was, as I said, not only for length 
 the breadth of the temple, and so the length and 
 breadth of the holiest; but it was, if I mistake 
 not, for height far higher than them both: for the 
 holy place was but thirty cubits high, and the most 
 holy but twenty; but the porch was in height an 
 hundred and twenty cubits. This beautiful porch, 
 therefore, was four times as high as was the 
 [oracle in] temple itself, l Ki. vi. 2, 20. 2 Ch. iii. 4. 
 
 One excellent ornament, therefore, of this temple 
 was, for that it had a porch so high, that is, so 
 famous for height; hence he says, ‘ This house 
 that is so high,’ that is so famous for height. So 
 high as to be seen afar off. Charity, if it be rich, 
 runs up from the church like a steeple, and will 
 be seen afar off; I say, if it be rich, large, and 
 abounds. Christ’s charity was blazed abroad; it 
 was so high no man could hide it: and the charity 
 of the churches will be seen from church to church, 
 yea, and will be spoken of to their commendations 
 in every place, if it be warm, fervent, and high. 
 
 War. vii. S6—44. 2 Co. viii. 24; ix. 2, 13, 14. 
 
 XXI. Of the ornaments of the porch of the Temple. 
 
 There were three things belonging to the porch, 
 besides its height, that were ornaments unto it. 
 1 . It was overlaid within with gold. 2 . It had 
 
 1 This is a valuable lesson to the ministers and members of 
 churches, to be ever ready to welcome the returning prodigal. 
 The porch is never to be shut against the poor fugitive; and 
 the only proper inquiry as to opening the door of the church, 
 is, * If thou believest with all thine heart, thou mayest freely 
 cuter/— (Ed.) 
 
 4 * ~ 
 
 I 0 
 
 the pillars adjoined unto it. 3 . It was the inlet 
 into the temple. 
 
 First. It was overlaid with gold. Gold ofttimes 
 was a type of grace, and particularly of the grace 
 of love. That in Solomon’s chariot called gold is 
 yet again mentioned by the name love. Ca. iii. 9,10. 
 As it is in the church, the grace of love is as gold. 
 It is the greatest, the richest of graces, and that 
 which abides for ever. Hence they that show 
 much love to saints are said to be rich. Hi. vi. 17—19. 
 And hence charity is called a treasure, a treasure 
 in the heavens. Lu. xii. 33,34. Love is a golden grace; 
 let then the churches, as the porch of the temple 
 was, be inlaid with love, as gold. 
 
 Second. It had the pillars adjoined to it, the 
 which, besides their stateliness, seem to be there 
 typically to example. For there was seen, by the 
 space of four cubits, their lily-work in the porch, 
 l Ki. vii. 19. Of their lily-work I spake before. Now 
 that they were so placed that they might be seen 
 in the porch of the house, it seems to be for ex¬ 
 ample, to teach the church, that she should live 
 without worldly care, as did the apostles, the first 
 planters of the church. And let ministers do this; 
 they are now the pillars of the churches, and they 
 stand before the porch of the house; let them also 
 show their lily-work to the house, that the church 
 may learn of them to be without carefulness as to 
 worldly things, and also to be rich in love and 
 charity towards the brethren. A covetous minister 
 is a base thing, a pillar more symbolizing Lot’s 
 wife than an holy apostle of Jesus Christ; let them, 
 since they stand at the door, and since the eyes of 
 all in the porch are upon them, be patterns and 
 examples of good works, l Ti. vi. 10—12, Tit. ii. 7. 
 
 Third. Another ornament unto this porch was, 
 that it Avas an inlet into the temple. Charity is it 
 which receiveth orphans, that receiveth the poor 
 and afflicted into the church. Worldly love, or 
 that Avliich is carnal, shuts up bowels, yea, and 
 the church-doors too, against the poor of the flock; 
 wherefore look that this kind of love be never 
 countenanced by you. Crave that rather Avliich is 
 a fruit of the Spirit. 0 churches, let your mini¬ 
 sters be beautified with your love, that they may 
 beautify you with their love; and also be an orna¬ 
 ment unto you, and to that Gospel they minister 
 to you, for Jesus Christ’s sake. 
 
 XXII. Of the ascent by which they went up into 
 the parch of the Temple. 
 
 1 . This porch also had certain steps, by which 
 they Avent up into the house of the Lord. I knoAV 
 not directly the number of them; though Ezekiel 
 speaks something about it. Eze. xi. 38, 39. Hence, 
 when men Avent to Avorship in the temple, they 
 Avere said to go UP into the house of the Lord. 
 
 Is. xxxviii. 22. 
 
476 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 These steps, which were the ascent to the 
 temple, were so curiously set, and also so finely 
 wrought, that they were amazing to behold. 
 Wherefore, when the queen of Sheba, who came 
 to prove Solomon’s wisdom, saw * the house which 
 he had built, - and his ascent by which he went 
 up into the house of the Lord, she had no more 
 spirit in her.’ She was by that sight quite drowned, 
 and overcome. 1 Ki. x. 4, 5 . 
 
 2. These steps, whether cedar, gold, or stone, 
 yet that which added to their adornment was the 
 wonderment of a queen. And whatever they were 
 made of, to be sure they were a shadow of those 
 steps which we should take to and in the house of 
 God. Steps of God. Ps. lxxxv. 13 . Steps ordered by 
 him. Ps. xxxvii. 23 . Steps ordered in his word. Ps. 
 cxix. 133 . Steps of faith. Ro. iv. 12 . Steps of the 
 Spirit. 2 Co. xii. is. Steps of truth. 3 Jn. 4 . Steps 
 washed with butter. Job. xxix. 6. Steps taken before, 
 or in the presence of, God. - Steps butted and 
 bounded by a divine rule. These are steps 
 indeed. 
 
 3. There are therefore no such steps as these 
 to be found any where in the world. A step to 
 honour, a step to riches, a step to worldly glory, 
 these are everywhere; but what are these to the 
 steps by which men do ascend or go up to the 
 house of the Lord! 
 
 He then that entereth into the house of the 
 Lord is an ascending man; as it is said of Moses, 
 lie went up into the mount of God. It is ascend¬ 
 ing to go into the house of God. The world be¬ 
 lieve not this; they think it is going downward to 
 go up to the house of God; but they are in a hor¬ 
 rible mistake. 
 
 The steps then by which men went up into the 
 temple are, and ought to be, opposed to those 
 which men take to their lusts and empty glories. 
 Hence such steps are said not only to decline from 
 God, but to take hold of the path to death and 
 
 hell. Ps. xliv. 18. Pr. ii. 18; v. 5; vii. 25—27. 
 
 The steps, then, by. which men went up to the 
 house of the Lord, were significative of those steps 
 which men take when they go to God, to heaven, 
 and glory: for these steps were the way to God, 
 to God in his holy temple. 
 
 But how few are there that, as the queen of the 
 south, are taken with these goodly steps! Do not 
 most rather seek to push away our feet from taking 
 hold of the path of life, or else lay snares for us 
 in the way ? But all these notwithstanding, the 
 Lord guide us in the way of his steps: they are 
 goodly steps, they are the best. 
 
 XXIII. Of the gate of the porch of the Temple. 
 
 1. The porch, at which was an ascent to the 
 temple, had a gate belonging to it. This gate, 
 according to the prophet Ezekiel, was six cubits 
 
 wide. The leaves of this gate were double, one 
 folding this way, the other folding that. Eze. xi. 48 . 
 
 Now here some may object, and say, Since the 
 way to God by these doors were so wide, why doth 
 Christ say the way and gate is narrow? 
 
 Answ. The straitness, the narrowness, must not 
 be understood of the gate simply, hut because of 
 that cumber that some men carry with them, that 
 pretend to be going to heaven. Six cubits! What 
 is sixteen cubits to him who would enter in here 
 with all the world on his back? The y°ung man 
 in the gospel, who made such a noise for heaven, 
 might have gone in easy enough; for in six cubits 
 breadth there is room: but, poor man, he was not 
 for going in thither, unless he might carry in his 
 houses upon his shoulder too, and now the gate 
 was strait. Mar. x. 17 - 27 . Wherefore he that will 
 enter in at the gate of heaven, of which this gate 
 into the temple was a type, must go in by himself, 
 and not with his bundles of trash on his back ; l 
 and if he will go in thus, he need not fear there is 
 room. ‘ The righteous nation that keepeth the 
 truth, they shall enter in.’ Is. xxvi. 2 . 
 
 2. They that enter in at the gate of the inner 
 court must be clothed inffine linen: how then shall 
 they go into the temple that carry the clogs of the 
 dirt of this world at their heels ? ‘ Thus saith the 
 Lord God; No stranger uncircumcised in heart, 
 nor uncircumcised in flesh, shall enter into my 
 sanctuary. ’ Eze. xliv. 9 , 
 
 3. The wideness therefore of this gate is for this 
 cause here made mention of, to wit, to encourage 
 them that would gladly enter thereat, according to 
 the mind of God, and not to flatter them that are 
 not for leaving of all for God. 
 
 4. Wherefore let such as would go in remember 
 that here is room, even a gate to enter in at six 
 cubits wide. We have been all this while but on 
 the outside of the temple, even in the courts of the 
 house of the Lord, to see the beauty and glory that 
 is there. The beauty hereof made men cry out, 
 and say, ‘ How amiable are thy tabernacles, 0 
 Lord of hosts! my soul longeth, yea, even fainteth 
 for the courts of the Lord;’ and to say, 4 a dny in 
 thy com ts is better than a thousand. Ps. lxxxiv. 
 1, 2 , &c. 
 
 XXIV. Of the pinnacles of the Temple. 
 
 1. There were also several pinnacles belonging 
 to the temple. These pinnacles stood on the top 
 aloft in the air, and were sharp, and so difficult to 
 stand upon: what men say of their number and 
 length I wave, and come directly to their signifi¬ 
 cation. 
 
 .health and honours, when sanctified, are valuable aids to 
 Christian usefulness; but unutterable woes will fall upon him 
 who attempts to enter heaven with temporal or ecclesiastical 
 pomps vain-gloriously carried upon his shoulders.— (Ed.) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 477 
 
 2 . I therefore take those pinnacles to ho types 
 of those lofty airy notions with which some men 
 delight themselves, while they hover, like birds, 
 above the solid and godly truths of Christ. Satan 
 attempted to entertain Christ Jesus with this type, 
 and antitype, at once, when he set him on one of 
 the pinnacles of the temple, and offered to thrust 
 him upon a false confidence in God, by a false 
 and unsound, interpretation of a text. Mat. iv. 5, 6 . 
 
 Lu. iv. 9—11. 
 
 3 . You have some men cannot be content to 
 worship in the temple, but must be aloft; no place 
 will serve them but pinnacles, pinnacles; that they 
 may be speaking in and to the air, that they ; 
 may be promoting their heady notions, instead of 
 solid truth; not considering that now they are where 
 the devil would have them be; they strut upon 
 their points, their pinnacles; but let them look to 
 it, there is difficulty standing upon pinnacles; their j 
 neck, their soul, is in danger. We read, God is 
 in his temple, not upon these pinnacles. Ps. xi. 4. 
 
 Hal), ii. 20. 
 
 4 . It is true, Christ was once upon one of 
 these; but the devil set him there, with intent to 
 have dashed him in pieces by a fall; and yet even 
 then told him, if he would venture to tumble down, 
 lie should be kept from dashing his foot against a 
 stone. To be there, therefore, was one of Christ’s 
 temptations; consequently one of Satan’s strata¬ 
 gems ; nor went he thither of his own accord, for 
 he knew that there was danger ; he loved not to 
 clamber pinnacles. 
 
 5 . This should teach Christians to be low and 
 little in their own eyes, and to forbear to intrude 
 into airy and vain speculations, and to take heed 
 of being puffed up with a foul and empty mind . 1 
 
 XXV. Of the porters of the Temple. 
 
 1 . There were porters belonging to the temple. 
 
 In David’s time their number was four thousand 
 
 men. 1 Ch. xxiii. 5. 
 
 « 
 
 2 . The porters were of the Levites, and their 
 work was to w r atch at every gate of the house of 
 the Lord; at the gate of the outer court, at the 
 gates of the inner court, and at the door of the 
 temple of the Lord. 2 Ch. xxxv. 15 . 
 
 3 . The work of the porters, or rather the reason 
 of their watching, was to look that none not duly 
 qualified entered into the house of the Lord. ‘He 
 set,’ saith the text, ‘the porters at the gates of 
 the house of the Lord, that none which was un¬ 
 clean in any thing should enter in.’ 2 Ch. xxiii. 19 . 
 
 4 . The excellency of the porters lay in these 
 three tilings, their watchfulness, diligence, and 
 
 1 Every Christian pilgrim, if he journeys aright, must he 
 entirely guided by prayerful personal inquiries at the holy 
 oracles as to his way to heaven. How do sin and Satan strive 
 to mislead liim in this essential duty.— (Ed.) 
 
 valour, to make resistance to those that, as unfit, 
 would attempt to enter those courts and the house 
 of God. l. Ch. xxvi. 6. Mar. xiii. 34. 
 
 5 . These porters were types of our gospel 
 ministers, as they are set to be watchmen in and 
 over the church, and the holy things of God. 
 Therefore as Christ gives to every man in the 
 church his work, so he commands ‘ the porter to 
 Watch.’ Is. xxi. II. Eze. iii. 17 ; xxxiii. 7. Ac. xx. 27—31. 2 Ti. 
 iv. 5. Re. ii. 2, 3. 
 
 6. Sometimes every awakened Christian is said 
 to be a porter, and such at Christ’s first knock 
 open unto him immediately. Lu. xii. 35 — 40 . 
 
 7 . The heart of a Christian is also sometimes 
 called the porter; for that when the true shepherd 
 comes to it, to him this porter openeth also. 
 
 Jn. x. 3. 
 
 8. This last has the body for his watch-house ; 
 the eyes and ears for his port-holes; the tongue 
 therewith to cry. Who comes there ? as also to 
 call for aid, when anything unclean shall attempt 
 with force and violence to enter in, to defile the 
 house. 
 
 XXVI. Of the charge of the porters of the Temple 
 more particularly. 
 
 1 . The charge of the porters was, to keep their 
 watch, in four square, even round about the tem¬ 
 ple of God. Thus it w T as ordained by David, be¬ 
 fore him by Moses, and after him by Solomon his 
 
 son. 1 Ch. ix. 24. Nu. iii. 2 Ch. xxiii. 19 ; xxxv. 15. 
 
 2 . The porters had some of them the charge of 
 the treasure-chambers ; some of them had the 
 charge of the ministering vessels, even to bring 
 them in and out by tale; also the opening and 
 shutting of the gates of the house of the Lord 
 was a part of their calling and office. 
 
 3 . I told you, the porters were types of our 
 gospel ministers, as they are watchmen in and 
 over the house of God; and therefore in that they 
 were thus to watch round about the temple, what 
 is it but to show how diligent Satan is, to see if 
 be may get in somewhere, by some means, to defile 
 the church of God; he goes round and round and 
 round us, to see if he can find a liog-liole for that 
 purpose. 
 
 4 . This also slioweth that the church of itself, 
 without its watchmen, is a weak, feeble, and very 
 helpless thing. What can the lady or mistress do 
 to defend herself against thieves and sturdy vil¬ 
 lains, if there be none but she at home? It is 
 said, when the shepherd is smitten, the sheep shall 
 be scattered. What could the temple do without 
 its watchmen ? 
 
 5 . Again, in that the porters had charge of the 
 treasure-chambers as it is, l Ch. ix. 26 , it is to inti¬ 
 mate, that the treasures of the gospel are with the 
 ministers of our God, and that the church, next to 
 
47S 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 Christ, should seek them at their mouth. ‘ We 
 have this treasure in earthen vessels,’ saith Paul, 
 and they are ‘stewards of the’ manifold ‘mysteries 
 of God.’ 1 Co. iv. 1 . 2 Co. iv. 7. 1 Pe. iv. 10. Ep. iv. 11-13. 
 
 6. These are God’s true scribes, and bring out 
 of their treasury things new and old; or, as ho 
 saith in another place, ‘At our gates,’ that is, 
 where our porters watch, ‘ are all manner of plea¬ 
 sant fruits , which I have laid up for thee, 0 my 
 beloved.’ Ca. vii. 13. Mat. xiii. 52. 
 
 7. Further, some of them had charge of the 
 
 ministering vessels, and they were to bring them 
 in and out by tale, l ch. ix. 28 . (1.) If by minister¬ 
 
 ing vessels you understand gospel ordinances, then 
 you see who has the charge of them, to wit, the 
 watchmen and ministers of the word. Lu. i. 12 . 2 Th. 
 ii. 15 . 2 Ti. ii. 2 . (2.) If by ministering vessels you 
 
 mean the members of the church, for they are 
 also ministering vessels, then you see who has the 
 care of them, to wit, the pastors, the gospel min¬ 
 isters. Therefore ‘obey them that have the rule 
 over you - for they watch for your souls, as they 
 that must give account; that they may do it 
 with joy, and not with grief, for that is unprofit¬ 
 able for you.’ He. xiii. 17. 
 
 8. The opening of the gates did also belong to 
 the porters, to show that the power of the keys, 
 to wit, of opening and shutting, of letting in and 
 keeping out of the church, doth ministerially be¬ 
 long to these watchmen. Mat. xvi. 19 . He. xii. 15 . 
 
 9. The conclusion is, then let the churches love 
 their pastors, hear their pastors, be ruled by their 
 pastors, and suffer themselves to be watched over, 
 and to be exhorted, counselled, and if need be, 
 reproved, and rebuked by their pastors. 1 And let 
 the ministers not sleep, but be watchful, and look 
 to the ordinances, to the souls of the saints, and 
 the gates of the churches. Watchman, watch¬ 
 man, watch! 
 
 XXVII. Of the doors of the Temple. 
 
 Now we are come to the gate of the temple; 
 namely, to that which let out of the porch into the 
 holy place. 
 
 1. These doors or gates were folding, and they 
 opened by degrees. First, a quarter, and then a 
 half, after that three quarters, and last of all the 
 whole. These doors also hanged upon hinges of 
 gold, and upon posts made of the goodly olive- 
 
 tree. 1 Ki. vi. 33, 34. Eze. xii. 23, 24. 
 
 2. These doors did represent Christ, as he is 
 the way to the Father, as also did the door of the 
 
 1 The simple-minded nature of Bunyan here appears con¬ 
 spicuously. lie measures others by his own bushel, as if every 
 pastor had as single an eye to the welfare of their flocks as he 
 had over the Church at Bedford. How tenderly ought the 
 churches of Christ to cherish such pastors as Bunyan, while 
 they prayerfully watch over their ministrations.—(E d.) 
 
 tabernacle, at which the people were wont to stand 
 when they went to inquire of God. Wherefore, 
 Christ saith, ‘ I am the door,’ alluding to this, ‘ by 
 me if any man enter he shall be saved, and shall 
 go in and out, and find pasture.’ Ex. xxxiii. 9, 10 ; xxxviii. 
 8 ; xl. 12. Le. i. 3, 4 ; viii. 3, 4, 33; xv. 14. Nu. vi. 13, IS; x. 3; xxv. 
 G ; xxvii. 2. 1 Sa. ii. 22. Jn. x. 9. (1.) ‘I am the door.’ 
 
 The door into the court, the door into the porch, 
 the door into the temple, the door into the holiest, 
 the door to the Father. But now we are at the 
 door of the temple. (2.) And observe it, this door 
 by Solomon was not measured as the door of the 
 porch was: for though the door into the court, 
 and the door into the porch were measured, to 
 show that the right to ordinances and the inlet 
 into the church is to be according to a prescript 
 rule, yet this door was not measured; to show that 
 Christ, as he is the inlet to saving grace, is beyond 
 all measure, and unsearchable. Hence his grace 
 is called ‘ unsearchable riches,’ and that above all 
 we can ask or think, for that it passeth knowledge. 
 Ep. iii. 8, 19, 20. 
 
 3. It is, therefore, convenient that we put a note 
 upon this, that we may distinguish rule and duty 
 from grace and pardoning mercy; for as I said, 
 though Christ, as the door to outward privileges, 
 is set forth by rule and measure; yet, as he is the 
 door to grace and favour, never creature, as yet, 
 did see the length and breadth of him. Ep. m. 17,19. 2 * * 
 
 4. Therefore, I say, this gate was not measured; 
 for what should a rule do here, where things are 
 beyond all measure? 
 
 5. This gate being also to open by degrees, is 
 of signification to us; for it will be opening first 
 by one fold, then by another, and yet will never 
 be set wide, wide open, until the day of judgment. 
 For then, and not till then, will the whole of the 
 matter be open. 6 For now w r e see through a glass, 
 darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part, 
 but then shall I know even as also I am known.’ 
 1 Co. xiii. 12. 
 
 XXVIII. Of the leaves of this gate of the Temple. 
 
 The leaves of this gate or door, as I told you 
 before, were folding, and so, as was hinted, has 
 something of signification in them. For by this 
 means a man, especially a young disciple, may 
 easily be mistaken; thinking that the whole pass¬ 
 age, when yet but a part was open; whereas, three 
 parts might be yet kept undiscovered to him. For 
 these doors, as I said before, were never yet set 
 wide open; I mean, in the anti-type; never man 
 yet saw all the riches and fulness which is in 
 Christ. So that I say, a new comer, if he judged 
 by present sight, especially if he saw but little, 
 
 2 This is one of those beautiful gems which sparkle all 
 
 through Bunyau’s works, 1 As the depth of the riches both of 
 
 the wisdom and knowledge of God! ’— (Ed ) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 479 
 
 might easily bo mistaken; wherefore such, for tho 
 most part, are most horribly afraid that they shall 
 never get in thereat. How sayest thou, young 
 comer, is not this the case with thy soul? So it 
 seems to thee that thou art too big, being so 
 great, so tun-bellied a sinner. But, 0 thou sinner, 
 fear not, the doors are folding-doors, and may be 
 opened wider, and wider again after that; wherefore, 
 when thou comest to this gate, and imaginest there 
 is not space enough for thee to enter, knock, and 
 it shall be wider opened unto thee, and thou shalt 
 be received. Lu. xi. 9 . Jn. vi. 37 . So, then, whoever 
 thou art that art come to the door, of which the 
 temple door was a type, trust not to thy first con¬ 
 ceptions of things, but believe there is grace abun¬ 
 dant. Thou knowest not yet what Christ can do, 
 the doors are folding-doors. Ho can ‘ do exceed¬ 
 ing abundantly above all that we can ask or think.’ 
 
 Ep. iii. 20. 
 
 The hinges on which these doors do hang were, 
 as I told you, gold; to signify that they both turned 
 upon motives and motions of love, and also that 
 the openings thereof were rich. Golden hinges 
 the gate to God doth turn upon, 
 
 The posts on which these doors did hang were 
 of the olive-tree, that fat and oily tree, to show 
 that they do never open with lothness or sluggish¬ 
 ness, as doors do whose hinges' want oil. They 
 are always oily, and so open easily and quickly to 
 those who knock at them. Hence you read, that 
 he that dwells in this house gives freely, loves 
 freely, and doth us good with all his heart. ‘ Yea,’ 
 saith he, ‘ I will rejoice over them to do them 
 good, and I will plant them in this land assuredly 
 with my whole heart, and with my whole soul. 
 Je. iii. 12, 14, 22 ; xxxii. 41. Re. xxi. C ; xxii. 17. Wherefore, 
 the oil of grace, signified by this oily tree, or 
 these olive-posts, on which these doors do hang, 
 do cause that they open glibly or frankly to the 
 soul. 
 
 XXIX. What the doors of the Temple were made of 
 
 1. The doors of the temple were made of fir; 
 that is so sweet scented, and pleasant to the smell. 
 
 1 KL vi. 34. 
 
 2. Mankind is also often compared to the fir- 
 
 tree. As Is. xli. 19 ; lv. 13 ; lx. 13-17 ; xiv. 8. 
 
 3. Now, since the doors of the temple were 
 made of the same, doth it not show that the way 
 into God’s house, and into his favour, is by the 
 same nature which they are of that thither enter, 
 even through the veil, his flesh? lie. x. 20 . For 
 this door, I mean the anti-type, doth even say of 
 himself, ‘ I am like a green fir-tree, from me is 
 thy fruit found.’ no. xiv. 8. 
 
 4. This fir-tree is Christ; Christ as man, and 
 so as the way to the Father. The doors of the 
 temple are also, as you see here, made of the fir- 
 
 tree ; even of that tree which was a type of tho 
 humanity of Jesus Christ. Consider iieb. ii. 14 . 
 
 5. The fir-tree is also the house of the stork, 
 that unclean bird, even as Christ is a harbour and 
 shelter for sinners. As for the stork, saith the 
 text, the fir-tree is her house; and Christ saith to 
 the sinners that see their want of shelter, ‘ Como 
 unto me, and I will give you rest.’ He is a re¬ 
 fuge for the oppressed, a refuge in time of trouble. 
 De. xiv. 18. Le. xi. 19. Pa. civ. 17 ; Lxxxiv. 2, 3. Mat. xi. 27, 28. He. vi. 
 17 — 20 . He is, as the doors of fir of the temple, 
 the inlet to God’s house, to God’s presence, and 
 to a partaking of his glory. Thus God did of old, 
 by similitudes, teach his people his way. 
 
 XXX. How the doors of the Temple were adorned . 
 
 And Solomon carved upon the doors 4 cheru- 
 bims, and palm trees, and open flowers, and covered 
 them with gold.’ 1 Ki. vi. 35. Eze. xli. 25. 
 
 First. He carved cherubims thereon. These 
 cherubims were figures or types of angels, and 
 forasmuch as they were carved here upon the 
 door, it was to show, 
 
 1. What delight the angels take in waiting upon 
 the Lord, and in going at his bidding, at his beck. 
 They are always waiting like servants at the door 
 of their Lord’s house. 
 
 2. It may be also to show how much pleased 
 they are to be where they may see sinners come 
 to God. For 4 there is joy in the presence of the 
 angels of God over one sinner that repenteth,’ and 
 comes to God by Christ for mercy. Lu. xv. 10 . 
 
 3. They may be also placed here to behold with 
 what reverence or irreverence those that come 
 hither to worship do behave themselves. Hence 
 Solomon cautions those that come to God’s house 
 to worship, that they take heed to their feet, be¬ 
 cause of the angels. Paul also says, Women 
 must take heed that they behave themselves in the 
 church as they should, and that because of the 
 angels. Ec. v. 1 , 2 ,6. 1 Co. xi. 5 ,6, 10 . 
 
 4. They may also be carved upon the temple 
 doors, to show us how ready they are, so soon as 
 any poor creature comes to Christ for life to take 
 the care and charge of its conduct through this 
 miserable world. 4 Are they not all ministering 
 spirits, sent forth to minister for them who shall 
 be heirs of salvation?’ He.i. 14. 
 
 5. They may also be carved here, to show that 
 they are ready, at Christ’s command, to take 
 vengeance for him upon those that despise his 
 people and hate his person. Hence he bids the 
 world take heed what they do to his 4 little ones,’ 
 for 4 their angels do always behold the face of their 
 Father which is in heaven,’ and arc ready at the 
 door to run at his bidding. Mat. xviii. 10. 
 
 G. Or lastly, they may be carved upon these 
 doors, to show that Christ Jesus is the very sup- 
 
430 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 porter and upholder of angels, as well as the 
 Saviour of sinful man. For as he is before all 
 things, so by him all things consist; angels stand 
 by Christ, men are saved by Christ, and therefore 
 the very clierubims themselves were carved upon 
 these doors, to show they are upheld and subsist 
 by him. 1 Co. viii. 6. Col. i. 17. He. i. 3. 
 
 Second. Again, as the clierubims are carved 
 here, so there were palm trees carved here also. 
 The palm tree is upright, it twisteth not itself 
 awry. j e . x. 5. 
 
 1. Apply this to Christ, and then it shows us 
 the uprightness of his heart, word, and ways with 
 sinners. 4 Good and upright is the Lord, there¬ 
 fore will he teach sinners in the wayin at the 
 door to life. Ps. xxv. 8 ; xcii. 15. 
 
 2. The palm or palm tree is also a token of vic¬ 
 tory ; and as placed here, it betokeneth the con¬ 
 quest that Christ, the door, should get over sin, 
 death, the devil, and hell for us. Ro. vii. 24; viii. 37 . l 
 Co. xv. 54—57. Re. vii. 9—11. 
 
 3. If we apply the palm tree to the church, as we 
 may, for she also is compared thereto, Ca, vii. 8 — 10 , 
 then the palm tree may be carved here to show, 
 that none but such as are upright of heart and life 
 shall dwell in the presence of God. ‘ The hypo¬ 
 crite,’ says Job, ‘ shall not come before him.’ 
 
 ‘ The upright,’ says David, 4 shall not dwell in thy 
 presence.’ Job xiii. 16. Ps. cxi, 13 . They are they that 
 are clothed in white robes, which signifies upright¬ 
 ness of life, that stand before the Lamb with 
 ‘ palms in their hands.’ Re. vii. 9 . 
 
 Third. There were also carved upon these doors 
 open flowers; and that to teach us that here is the 
 sweet scent and fragrant smell; and that the coming 
 soul will find it so in Christ, this door. 4 I am,’ 
 saith he, 4 the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the 
 valleys.’ And again, 4 His cheeks are as a bed of 
 spices, as sweet flowers : his lips like lilies, dropping 
 sweet-smelling myrrh.’ Ca. ii. 1 ; v. 13 . Open flowers. 
 Open flowers are the sweetest, because full grown, 
 and because, as such, they yield their fragrancy 
 most freely. Wherefore, when he saitli upon the 
 doors are open flowers, he setteth Christ Jesus forth 
 in his good savours, as high as by such similitudes 
 he could; and that both in name and office. For 
 open flowers lay, by their thus opening themselves 
 before us, all their beauty also most plainly before 
 our faces. There are varieties of beauty in open 
 flowers, the which they also commend to all ob¬ 
 servers. Now, upon these doors, you see, are open 
 flowers, flowers ripe, and spread before us, to show 
 that his name and offices are savoury to them that 
 by* him do enter his house to God his Father. 
 
 Ca. i. 1—“4. 
 
 4 All these were overlaid with fine gold.* Gold 
 is the most rich of all metals; and here it is said 
 the doors, the clierubims, the palm trees, and open 
 
 flowers, were overlaid therewith. And this shows, 
 that as these things are rich in themselves, even so 
 they should be to us. We have a golden door to 
 go to God by, and golden angels to conduct us 
 through the world: we have golden palm trees as 
 tokens of our victory, and golden flowers to smell 
 on all the way to heaven. 
 
 XXXI. Of the wall of the Temple. 
 
 The wall of the temple was 4 ceiled with fir tree, 
 which he overlaid with fine gold, and set thereon 
 palm trees and chains. ’ 2 Ch. m. 5 - 7 . 
 
 The walls were as the body of the house, unto 
 which Christ alluded when he said, 4 Destroy this 
 temple, and in three days I will raise it up. ’ Jn. ii. 
 19 . Hence to be, and worship in the temple, was 
 a type of being in Christ, and worshipping God by 
 him. For Christ, as was said, is the great temple 
 of God, in the which all the elect meet, and in 
 whom they do service to and for his Father. 
 
 Hence again the true worshippers are said to be 
 in him, to speak in him, to walk in him, to obey in 
 him. 2 Co. ii. 14 ; xii. 19. Col. ii. 6. For, as of old, all 
 true worship was to be found at the temple, so now 
 it is only found with Christ, and Avitli them that are 
 in him. The promise of old was made to them 
 that worshipped within these walls. 4 Unto them,’ 
 saith he, 4 will I 'give in my house, and within my 
 walls,’ to them that worship there in truth, 4 a 
 place, and a name, better than of sons and of 
 daughters.’ is. lvi. 5 . 
 
 But now, in New Testament times, 4 all the pro¬ 
 mises of God in him are yea, and in him, amen 
 unto the glory of God by us.’ 2 Co. i. 20 . This is 
 yet further hinted to us in that it is said these walls 
 are ceiled with fir j 1 which, as was showed before, 
 was a figure of the humanity of Jesus Christ. 
 
 A wall is for defence, and so is the humanity of 
 Jesus Christ. It is, was, and will be, our defence 
 for ever. For it was that which underwent and 
 overcame the curse of the law, and that in which 
 our everlasting righteousness is found. Had he 
 not in that interposed, we had perished for ever. 
 Hence we are said to be reconciled to God in the 
 body of his flesh through death. Col. i. 19 , 20 . Ro.v. 8 - 10 . 
 
 Now, this wall was overlaid with fine gold. Gold 
 here is a figure of the righteousness of Christ, by 
 which we are justified in the sight of God. There¬ 
 fore you read, that his church, as justified, is said 
 to stand at his right hand in cloth of gold. 4 Upon 
 thy right hand did stand the queen in gold of 
 Opbir.’ And again, 4 Her clothing is of wrought 
 gold.’ Ps. xiv. 9 , 13 . This the wall was overlaid with; 
 this the body of Christ was filled with. Men, while 
 
 1 Ceiled is now only used with reference to the top of a 
 room—the ceiling. It is an old English word, and means 
 overlaid or lined with wood, wainscot, or plank, either roof, 
 sides, or floor. —(Ed.) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 4S1 
 
 in the temple, were clothed with gold, even with 
 the gold of the temple; and men in Christ are 
 clothed with righteousness, the righteousness of 
 Christ. Wherefore this consideration doth yet 
 more illustrate the matter. In that the palm trees 
 were set on this wall, it may be to show that the 
 elect are fixed in Jesus, and so shall abide for ever. 
 
 Chains were also carved on these walls, yea, and 
 they were golden chains ; there were chains on the 
 pillars, and now also we find chains upon the walls. 
 Phi. i. 12 , 13. 1. Chains were used to hold one cap¬ 
 
 tive, and such Paul did ’wear at Rome, but he 
 called them ‘his bands in Christ.’ 2. Chains 
 sometimes signify great afflictions, which God lays 
 on us for our sins. Ps. cviL 9—ll. La. i. 14 ; iii. 7. 3. 
 
 Chains also may be more mystically understood, 
 as of those obligations which the love of God lays 
 upon us, to do and suffer for him. Ac. xx. 22 4. 
 
 Chains do sometimes signify beauty and comely 
 ornaments. ‘ Thy neck,’ saith Christ to his spouse, 
 ‘is comely with chains of gold.' And again, ‘I 
 put bracelets upon thy hands, and a chain on thy 
 neck.’ Ca. i. 10 . Eze. xvi. 8— 11 . Pr. i. 9 . 5. Chains also 
 
 do sometimes denote greatness and honour, such as 
 Daniel had when the king made him the third ruler 
 in the kingdom. Da. v. 7 ,16,29. 
 
 Now all these are temple-chains, and are put 
 upon us for good; some to prevent our ruin, some 
 to dispose our minds the better, and some to dignify 
 and to make us noble. Temple-chains are brave 
 chains. None but tern pie-worshippers must wear 
 temple-chains. 
 
 XXXII. Of the garnishing of the Temple with 
 precious atones. 
 
 ‘ And he garnished the house with precious 
 stones for beauty.’ 2 Ch. iii. 6 ,7. 1. This is another 
 
 ornament to the temple of the Lord; wherefore, 
 as he saith, it was garnished with them; he saith 
 it was garnished with them for beauty. The line 1 * * 
 saith, garnished; the margin saith, covered. 2. 
 Wherefore, I think, they were fixed as stars, or as 
 the stars in the firmament, so they were set in the 
 ceiling of the house, as in the heaven of the holy 
 temple. 3. And thus fixed, they do the more aptly 
 tell us of what they were a figure ; namely, of the 
 ministerial gifts and officers in the church. For 
 ministers, as to their gifts and office, are called 
 stars of God, and are said to be in the hand of 
 Christ. Re. L 20 . 4. Wherefore, as the stars glit¬ 
 
 ter and twinkle in the firmament of heaven, so 
 do true ministers in the firmament of his church. 
 1 Ch. xxix. 2. J n. v. 35. Da. xii. 3. 5. So that it is said 
 
 1 The line means the text. The marginal reading agrees 
 with the puritan version 4 overlayed.’ Tyndale renders it, 
 
 ‘And he paved the house with precious stones goodly.’ Cover- 
 
 dale, ‘And overlayed the house with precious stones to beautify 
 it.’— (Ed.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 again these gifts come down from above, as signi¬ 
 fying they distil their dew from above. And 
 hence, again, the ministers are said to be set over 
 us in the Lord, as placed in the firmament of his 
 heaven to give a light upon his earth. ‘ There is 
 gold and a multitude of rubies, but the lips of 
 knowledge are a precious jewel.’ Pr. xx. 15 . 
 
 Verily, it is enough to make a man in this house 
 look always upward; since the ceiling above head 
 doth thus glitter with precious stones. Precious 
 stones, all manner of precious stones, stones of all 
 colours. For there are divers gifts, differences of 
 administrations, and diversities of operations, ‘ but 
 it is the same God which worketh all in all.’ 1 Co. 
 xii. 4-6. Thus had the ceiling of this house a 
 pearl here, and there a diamond; here a jasper, 
 and there a sapphire; here a sardius, and there a 
 jacinth; here a sardonyx, and there an amethyst. 
 
 ‘ For to one is given by the Spirit the word of 
 wisdom, to another the word of knowledge;’ to one 
 the gift of healing, to another faith; to this man 
 to work miracles, to that a spirit of prophecy; to 
 another the discerning of spirits, to another divers 
 kinds of tongues. 1 Co. xii. 8—n. 
 
 He also overlaid the house, beams, posts, walls, 
 doors, &c., and all with gold. 0 what a beautiful 
 house the temple was; how full of glory was it! 
 And yet all was but a shadow, a shadow of things 
 to come, and which was to be answered in the 
 church of the living God, the pillar and ground of 
 truth, by better things than these. 
 
 XXXIII. Of the windows of the Temple. 
 
 * And for the house, he made windows of narrow 
 lights. ’ 1 Ki. vi. 4. There were windows of this house, 
 windows for the chambers and windows round 
 about. Eze. xi. 16, 22—25, 29,33, 36. These windows were 
 of several sizes, but all narrow, narrow without, 
 but wide within; they also were finely wrought, 
 aud beautified with goodly stones, is. liv. 12 . 
 
 1. Windows, as they are to a house an orna¬ 
 ment, so also to it they are a benefit. ‘ Truly the 
 light is sweet, and a pleasant thing it is for the eyes 
 to behold the sun.’ Ec. xi. 7 . The window is that 
 which Christ looks forth at, the window is that 
 which the sun looks in at. Ca.ii.9. 
 
 2. By the light which shines in at the window 
 we also see to make and keep the house clean, and 
 also to do what business is necessary there to be 
 done. ‘ In thy light shall we see light;’ light to 
 do our duty, and that both to God and man. 
 
 3. These windows therefore were figures of the 
 written word, by and through which Christ shows 
 himself to his, and by which we also apprehend 
 him. And hence the Word of God is compared to 
 a glass through which the light doth come, and by 
 which we see not only the beams of the sun, but 
 our own smutches also. 2 ch. xxx. is. Ja. i. 23 - 25 . 
 
 61 
 
482 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 4. TIio lights indeed were narrow, wherefore 
 we see also through their antitype hut darkly 
 and imperfectly ‘ Now we see through a glass 
 darkly,’ or, as in a riddle, 1 now we know but in 
 part. 1 Co. xiii. 12. 
 
 5. Their windows and their light are but of little 
 service to those that are without; the world sees 
 but little of the beauty of the church by the light 
 of the written Word, though the church, by that 
 light, can see the dismal state of the world, and 
 also how to avoid it. 
 
 XX XIV. Of the chambers of the Temple. 
 
 In the temple Solomon made chambers, l Ki. vi. 5. 
 
 1. The chambers were of several sizes; some 
 little, some large; some higher, some lower; some 
 more inward, and some outward. 
 
 2. These chambers were for several services; 
 some were for rests, some to hide in, some to lay 
 up treasure in, and some for solace and delight. 
 
 2 Ch. iii. 9. Eze. xl. 7; xli. 5, 9—11. 2 Ch. xxxi. 11, 12. They were 
 for resting-places. Here the priests and porters 
 were wont to lodge. They were for hiding-places. 
 Here Jehoehabcath hid Joash from Athaliah the 
 term of six years. 2 Ki. n. 3. They were also to lay 
 the temple treasure, or dedicated things in, that 
 they might be safely kept there for the worship¬ 
 pers. Ezr. viii. 29. And some of them were for 
 solace and delight; and, I must add, some for 
 durable habitation. Wherefore in some of them 
 some dwelt always, yea, their names dwelt there 
 when they were dead. 
 
 (1.) Those of them which were for rest, were 
 types of that rest which by faith we have in the 
 Son of God, and of that eternal rest which we 
 shall have in heaven by him. Mat.xi.28. He. iv. 3. (2.) 
 
 Those chambers which were for hiding and se- 
 
 O 
 
 curity, were tvpes of that safety which we have in 
 Christ from the rage of the world. Is. xxvi. 20 . (3.) 
 
 Those chambers which were for the reception of 
 the treasures and dedicated things were types of 
 Christ, as he is the common store-house of be¬ 
 lievers. ‘ For it pleased the Father, that in him 
 should all fulness dwell‘ and of his fulness we 
 all receive, and grace for grace.’ Jn. i. 16. Col. i. 19 . 
 (4.) Those chambers that were for solace and de¬ 
 light, were types of those retirements and secret 
 meetings of Christ with the soul, where he gives it 
 his embraces, and delights her with his bosom and 
 ravishing delights. ‘ He brought me,’ said she, 
 
 ‘ into his chambers,’ ‘ into the chamber of her that 
 conceived me,’ and there he gave her his love. 
 
 Ca. i. 4; iii. 4. 
 
 The chambers which were for durable dwelling- 
 places were types of those eternal dwelling-places 
 which are in the heavens, prepared of Christ and 
 
 the Father, for them that shall be saved. Jn. xiv. 1—4. 
 2Cor.v. 1—4. This it is to ‘dwell on high,’ and to 
 be safe from fear of evil! Here therefore vou see 
 are chambers for rest, chambers for safety, cham¬ 
 bers for treasure, chambers for solace, and cham¬ 
 bers for durable habitations. 0 the rest and peace 
 that the chambers of God’s high house will yield 
 to its inhabitants in another world! Here they 
 will ‘rest from their labours,’ ‘rest in their beds,’ 
 rest with God, rest from sin, temptation, and all 
 sorrow. Re. xiv. 13 . is. lvii. i, 2 . 2 Th. i. 7 . God therefore 
 then shall wipe all tears from our eyes, even when 
 he comes out of his chamber as a bridegroom, to 
 fetch his bride, his wife unto him thither, to the 
 end they may have eternal solace together. 0 
 these are far better than the chambers of the 
 south! 
 
 XXXV. Of the stairs by luhich they went up into 
 the chambers of the Temple. 
 
 There were stairs by which men went up into 
 these chambers of the temple, and they were but 
 one pair, and they went from below to the first, 
 and so to the middle, and thence to the highest 
 chambers in the temple, l Ki. vi. 8. Eze. xli. 7 . 
 
 1. These stairs were winding; so that they 
 turned about, that did go up them. So then, he 
 that assayed to go into these chambers, must turn 
 with the stairs, or he could not go up, no, not into 
 the lowest chambers. 
 
 2. These stairs therefore were a type of a two¬ 
 fold repentance. That by which we turn from 
 nature to grace, and that by which we turn from 
 the imperfections which attend a state of grace to 
 glory. Hence true repentance, or the right going 
 up these turning stairs, is called repentance to 
 salvation; for true repentance stoppeth not at the 
 reception of grace; for that is but a going up these 
 stairs to the middle chambers. 2 Co. vii. 10 . 
 
 Thus, therefore, the soul, at its going up these 
 stairs, turns and turns, till it enters the doors of 
 the highest chambers. It groans, though in a 
 state of grace, because that is not the state of glory. 
 
 I count then, that from the first to the middle 
 chambers may be a type of turning from nature to 
 grace. But from the middle to the highest, these 
 stairs may signify a turning still from the imper¬ 
 fections and temptations that attend a state of 
 grace, to that of immortality and glory. 2 Co. v. 1—9. 
 
 For as there are turning stairs, from the lowest 
 to the middle chambers, so the stairs from thence 
 still turn, and so will do, till you come to the high¬ 
 est chambers. I do not say that they that have 
 received grace, do repent they received grace; but 
 I say they that have received grace, are yet sorry 
 that grace is not consummate in glory; and hence 
 they are for going up thither still, by these turning 
 stairs; yea, they cannot rest below, as they would. 
 
 2 See margin of 1 Co. xiii. 12, Gr., c in a riddle.’—(E d.) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 4S3 
 
 till tiiev ascend to the highest chambers. * 0 
 wretched man that I am!’ And * in this we groan 
 earnestly,’ is the language of gracious souls. Ro. 
 vii. 24. 2 Co. v. 1—3. True, every one doth not do thus 
 that comes into the temple of God; many rest 
 below stairs, they like not to go turning upward. 
 Nor do I believe that all that bid fair for ascend¬ 
 ing to the middle chambers, get up to the highest 
 stories, to his stories in the heavens. Many in 
 churches, who seem to be turned from nature to 
 grace, have not the grace to go up, turning still; 
 but rest in that show of things, and so die below 
 a share in the highest chambers. 
 
 All these things are true in the anti-type, and, 
 as 1 think, prefigured by these turning stairs to 
 the chambers of the temple. But this turning, 
 and turning still, displeases some much; they say 
 it makes them giddy; but I say, there is no way 
 like this, to make a man stand steady; stedfast in 
 the faith, and with boldness in the day of judg¬ 
 ment. For he has this seated in his heart; I 
 went up by the turning stairs, till I came to the 
 highest chambers. A strait pair of stairs are like 
 that ladder by which men ascend to the gallows; 
 they are the turning ones that lead us to the 
 heavenly mansion-houses. Look, therefore, you that 
 come into the temple of God to worship, that you 
 stay not at the foot of these turning stairs, but go 
 up thence; yea, up them, and up them, and up 
 them, till you come to the view of the heavens; 
 yea, till you are possessed of the highest chambers! 
 How many times has God, by the Scripture, called 
 upon you to turn, and told you, you must turn or 
 die! and now here he has added to his call a 
 figure, by placing a pair of turning stairs in his 
 temple, to convict your very senses, that you must 
 turn, if you mean to go up into his holy chambers, 
 and so into his eternal mansion-houses; and look 
 that you turn to purpose; for every turning will 
 not serve. Some turn, but not to the Most High; 
 and so turn to no purpose. 
 
 XXXVI. Of the molten sea that teas in the Temple. 
 
 There was also a molten sea in the temple; it 
 was made of brass, and contained three thousand 
 baths. 1 2 cii. iv. 2 —io. This sea was for the priests 
 to wash in when they came into the temple to ac¬ 
 complish the service of God; to wash their hands 
 and feet at, that they might not, when they came 
 thither, die for their unpreparedness. The laver 
 also which was in the wilderness was of the same 
 use there. Ex. xxx. 
 
 1 . It was, as may be supposed, called a sea, for 
 that it was large to contain; and a sea of brass, 
 for that it was made thereof. It is called in Ite- 
 
 1 A bath was a Hebrew measure containing about seven 
 
 gallons and a half.—(E d.) 
 
 velations a sea of glass, alluding to that in the 
 wilderness, which was made of the brazen looking- 
 glasses of women that came to worship at the door 
 of the tabernacle. Re. iv. 6; xv. 2. Ex. xxxviii. 8. 
 
 2. It was also said to be molten, because it was 
 
 made of that fashion, by fire; and its anti-type 
 therefore is said to be a sea of glass mingled with 
 fire. Re. xv. 2 . (1.) This sea was a figure of the 
 
 word of the gospel, in the cleansing virtue of it; 
 which virtue then it has when mingled with the 
 fire of the Holy Ghost. And to this Christ alludes, 
 when he saith, ‘ Now ye are clean through the 
 word which I have spoken unto you.’ Jn. xv. 3. (2.) 
 It was a figure of the word, without mixture of 
 men’s inventions; hence it is called ‘ pure water.’ 
 Having your ‘ bodies washed with pure water.’ 
 x\nd again, He sanctifies and cleanseth his church 
 ‘ with the washing of water by the word.’ Ep. v. 26. 
 Tit. iii. 5 . All these places are an allusion to the 
 molten sea, at which of old they washed when 
 they went into the temple to worship. Therefore, 
 saith he, being washed, let us draw near to God. 
 
 lie. x. 22. 
 
 3. This sea from brim to brim was complete ten 
 cubits; perhaps to show that there is as much in 
 the word of the gospel to save, as there is in the 
 ten 2 words to condemn. 
 
 4. From under this sea round about appeared 
 oxen, ten in a cubit did compass it rouud about. 
 2 Ch. iv. 3. Understand by these oxen ministers, for 
 to them they are compared in l Co. ix. 8— 10 . And 
 then we are taught whence true ministers come; 
 to wit, from under the power of the gospel, for 
 this sea breeds gospel ministers, as the waters 
 breed fish. 
 
 5. It is also said in the text, that these oxen 
 were cast when the sea was cast; insinuating that 
 when God ordained a word of grace to save us, he 
 also in his decree provided ministers to preach it 
 to us to that end. Paul tells us, that he was made 
 a minister of the gospel, ‘ according to God’s eter* 
 nal purpose which he purposed in Christ Jesus our 
 Lord.’ Ep. iii. 9—11. Col. i. 25. 
 
 6. This sea is said to have a brim like the brim 
 of a cup. To invite us as well to drink of its grace, 
 as to wash in its water. For the word and Sjnrit 
 when mixed, has not only a cleansing, but a saving 
 quality in it. 2 Ch. iv. 1—5. 1 Cor. xv. l, 2. 
 
 7. This brim was wrought with lilies, or was liko 
 a lily flower; to show how they should grow and 
 flourish, and with what beautiful robes they should 
 be adorned, who were washed, and did drink of 
 this holy water. Yea, that God would take care 
 of them, as he also did of lilies, and would not. fail 
 to bestow upon them what was necessary for the 
 body, as well as for the soul. Mat. vi. 28—34. 
 
 2 The moral law of ten commandments. —(Ed.) 
 
484 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 XXXVII. Upon what the molten sea stood in the 
 
 Temple. 
 
 1. This molten sea stood upon the backs of 
 twelve brazen bulls or oxen. 2 Ck. iv. 4. 
 
 2 . These oxen, as they thus stood, looked three 
 towards the north, three towards the west, three 
 towards the east, and three towards the south. 
 
 3. These twelve oxen were types of the twelve 
 apostles of the Lamb, who, as these beasts, stood 
 looking into the four corners of the earth, and were 
 bid to go preach the gospel in all the world. 
 
 4. They were compared to oxen, because they 
 were clean; for the ox was a clean beast. Hence 
 the apostles are called holy. They were compared 
 to oxen, because the ox is strong; and they also 
 were mighty in the word. Ft. xiv. 4. 2 Co. xii. 12. 
 
 5. The ox will not lose what he has got by 
 drawing; he will not let the wheels go back; so 
 the apostles were set to defend, and not let that 
 doctrine go back, which they had preached to 
 others; nor did they, they delivered it pure to us. 
 
 6 . One of the cherubs of which you read in the 
 vision had a face like an ox, to show that the 
 apostles, these men of the first order, are most 
 like the angels of God. Eze. i. 10. 
 
 7 . In that they stood with their faces every way, ■ 
 it was, as I said, to show how the apostles should ! 
 carry the gospel into all the world. Mat. xxviii. 19, 20. j 
 Mar. xvi. 15—18. 
 
 8 . And observe, just as these oxen were placed 
 looking in the temple every way, even so stand j 
 open the gates of the New Jerusalem to receive 
 those that by their doctrine should be brought into 
 it. ‘And they shall come from the east, and from 
 the west, and from the north, and from the south, 
 and shall sit down in the kingdom of God.’ Lu.xiii.29. ! 
 
 Re. xxi. 13, 14. 
 
 9. These oxen bear this molten sea upon their 
 hacks, to show that they should be the foundation 
 workmen of the gospel, and that it ought not to 
 be removed, as was the molten sea of old, from 
 that basis to another. 
 
 10. It is also said concerning those oxen that 
 thus did bear this molten sea, that all their hinder 
 parts were inwards, that is, covered by that sea ! 
 that was set upon their backs; their hinder parts, ! 
 or, as the apostle has it, * our uncomely parts.’ 
 
 1 Co. xiii. 23, 24. 
 
 11. And, indeed, it becomes a gospel minister 
 to have his uncomely parts covered with that grace 
 which by the gospel he preacheth unto others. As 
 Paul exhorts Timothy to take heed unto himself, 
 and to his doctrine, l Ti. iv. 6. 
 
 12. But alas! there are too, too many who, can 
 they but have their heads covered with a few gospel 
 notions, care not though their hinder parts are seen 
 of all the world. But such are false ministers; the 
 
 prophet calls them ‘the tail.* ‘The prophet that 
 speaketh lies, either by word or with his feet, he 
 is the tail.’ Is. ix. 15. Pr. vi. 12,13. 
 
 13. But what a shame is it to hide his head 
 under this molten sea, while his hinder parts hang 
 out. Such an one is none of Christ’s oxen; for 
 they, with honour to their Master, show their heads 
 before all the world, for that their hinder parts are 
 inward, covered. 
 
 14. Look to thy hinder parts, minister, lest, 
 while thy mouth doth preach the gospel, thy naked¬ 
 ness and shame be seen of those which hear thee. 
 For they that do not observe to learn this lesson 
 themselves, will not teach others to believe the 
 Word, nor to live a holy life; they will learn of 
 them to show their shame, instead of learning to 
 be holy. 
 
 XXXVIII. Of the lavers of the Temple. 
 
 Besides this molten sea, there were ten lavers in 
 the temple; five of which were put on the right 
 side, and five also on the left. 2 Ch. iv. 6. 
 
 1. Of their fashion and their furniture, you may 
 see. 1 Ki. vii. 38. These lavers, as the molten sea, 
 were vessels which contained water; but they were 
 not of the same use with it. True, they were 
 both to wash in; the sea to wash the worshippers, 
 but the lavers to wash the sacrifice. ‘ He made 
 the ten lavers to wash in them such things as they 
 offered for the burnt-offering, but the sea ivas for 
 the priests to wash in.’ 2Ch. iv. 6. 2. The burnt- 
 
 offering was a type of the body of Christ, which he 
 once offered for our sins ; and the fire on which the 
 sacrifice was burned, a type of the curse of the law 
 which seized on Christ when he gave himself a ran¬ 
 som for us. For, therefore, that under the law 
 was called the burnt-offering, because of the burning 
 upon the altar. Le. vi. 9. 
 
 But what, then, must we understand by these 
 lavers, and by this sacrifice being washed in them, 
 in order to its being burned upon the altar ? 
 
 I answer, Verily, I think that the ten lavers 
 were a figure of the ten commandments; in the 
 purity and perfection of Christ’s obedience to which 
 he became capable of being made a burnt-offering, 
 acceptable to God for the sins of the people. Christ 
 was made under the law, and all his acts of obe¬ 
 dience to God for us were legal, and his living thus 
 a perfect legal life was his washing his offering in 
 these ten lavers, in order to his presenting it upon 
 the altar for our sins. The lavers went upon wheels, 
 to signify walking feet; and Christ walked in the 
 law, and so became a clean offering to God for us. 
 The wheels were of the very same as were the 
 lavers, to show that Christ’s obedience to the law 
 was of the same, as to length and breadth, with 
 its commands and demands to their utmost tittle 
 and extent. The inwards and leg 3 of the burnt- 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 485 
 
 offering were to be washed in these layers, Le. i. 9, 
 13. 2 Ch. iv. 6; to show that Christ should be puro 
 and clean in heart and life. 
 
 We know that obedience, whether Christ’s or 
 ours, is called * a walking in the way,’ typified by 
 the layers walking upon their wheels. But I mean 
 not by Christ, his washing of hi3 offering, that he 
 had any filthiness cleaving to his nature or obe¬ 
 dience ; yet this I say, that so far as our guilt laid 
 upon him could impede, so far he wiped it off by 
 washing in these lavers. For his offering was to 
 be without blemish, and without spot to God. 
 Hence it is said, he sanctified himself in order to 
 his suffering. ‘ And being made perfect, he be¬ 
 came the author of eternal salvation unto all them 
 that obey him.’ Jn. xvii. 19 . He. v. 6 —lo. 
 
 For albeit he came holy into the world, yet that 
 holiness was but preparatory to that by which he 
 sanctified himself, in order to his suffering for sin. 
 That, then, which was his immediate preparation 
 for his suffering was his obedience to the law, his 
 washing in these lavers. He, then, first yielded 
 complete obedience to the law on our behalf, and 
 then, as so qualified, offered his washed sacrifice 
 for our sins without spot to God. Thus, therefore, 
 he was our burnt-offering washed in the ten lavers, 
 that he might, according to law, be accepted of 
 the Lord. 
 
 And he set five of the lavers on the right side 
 of the house, and five of them on the left. Thus 
 were the ten divided, as the tables of the law, one 
 showing our duty towards God, the other our duty 
 towards our neighbour; in both which the burnt- 
 offering was washed, that it might be clean in both 
 respects. They might also be thus placed, the 
 better to put the people in mind of the necessity of 
 the sanction of Christ according to the law, in order 
 to his offering of himself an offering to God for us. 
 
 XXXIX. Of the tables in the Temple. 
 
 * lie made also ten tables, and placed them in 
 the temple, five on the right hand, 1 and five on the 
 left. ’ 2 Ch. iv. 8. * 
 
 Some, if not all of these tables, so far as I can 
 see, were they on which the burnt-offering was to 
 be cut in pieces, in order to its burning. 
 
 These tables were made of stone, of hewn stones, 
 on which this work was done. Eze. xi. 40 — 43 . Now, 
 since the burnt-offering was a figure of the body 
 of Christ, the tables on which this sacrifice was 
 slain must needs, I think, be a type of the heart, 
 the stony heart, of the Jews. For had they not 
 had hearts hard as an adamant, they could not 
 have done that thing. 
 
 Upon these tables, therefore, was the death of 
 
 1 This is from the Genevan or puritan version. Our trails- 1 
 lation. has ‘on the right side.’—(E d.) 
 
 Christ contrived, and this horrid murder acted; 
 even upon these tables of stone. In that they are 
 called tables of hewn stone, it may be to show that 
 all this cruelty was acted under smooth pretences, 
 for hewn stones are smooth. The tables were 
 finely wrought with tools, even as the heart of the 
 Jews were with hypocrisy. But alas, they were 
 stone still; that is, hard and cruel; else they could 
 not have been an anvil for Satan to forn;e such 
 horrid barbarism upon. The tables were in number 
 the same with the lavers, and were set by them to 
 show what are the fruits of being devoted to the law, 
 as the Jews were, in opposition to Christ and his 
 holy gospel. There flows nothing but hardness and 
 a stony heart from thence. This was showed in its 
 first writing; it was writ on tables of stone, figures 
 of the heart of man; and on the same tables, or 
 hearts, was the death of Jesus Christ compassed. 
 
 One would think that the meekness, gentleness, 
 or good deeds of Jesus Christ might have procured 
 in them some relentings when they were about to 
 take away his life; but alas, their hearts were 
 tables of stone! What feeling or compassion can 
 a stone be sensible of ? Here were stony hearts, 
 stony thoughts, stony counsels, stony contrivances, 
 a stony law, and stony hands; and what could be 
 expected hence but barbarous cruelty indeed ? ‘ If 
 I ask you,' said Christ, ‘ye will not answer me, 
 nor let me go. ’ Lu. xxii. 68 . 
 
 In that these stony tables were placed about the 
 temple, it supposeth that they were temple-men, 
 priests, scribes, rulers, lawyers, &c., that were to 
 be the chief on whose hearts this murder was to 
 be designed, and by them enacted to their own 
 damnation without repentance. 
 
 XL. Of the instruments wherewith this sacrifice was 
 
 slain, and of the four tables they were laid on in 
 the Temple. 
 
 The instruments that were laid upon the tables 
 in the temple were not instruments of music, but 
 those with which the burnt-offering was slain. 
 ‘ And the four tables were of hewn stone for the 
 burnt-offering; whereupon also they laid the instru¬ 
 ments wherewith they slew the burnt-offering and 
 the sacrifice.’ Eze. xi. 42, 43. 
 
 Here we are to take notice that the tables are 
 the same, and some of them of which we spake 
 before. That the instruments with which they 
 slew the sacrifice were laid upon these tables. 
 The instruments with which they slew the sacri¬ 
 fices, what were they but a bloody axe, bloody 
 knives, bloody hooks, and bloody hands? For 
 these we need no proof; matter of fact declares it. 
 But what were those instruments a type of? 
 
 Answ. Doubtless they were a type of our sins. 
 They were the bloody axe, the knife, and bloody 
 hands that shed his precious blood. They were 
 
486 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 the meritorious ones, without which he could not 
 have died. When I say ours, I mean the sins of 
 the world. Though, then, the hearts of the Jews 
 were the immediate contrivers, yet they were our 
 sins that were the bloody tools or instruments 
 which slew the Son of God. ‘ He was wounded 
 for our transgressions, he died for our sins.’ Is. mu 
 1 Co. xv. Ga. i. 
 
 0 the instruments of us churls, by which this 
 poor man was taken from off the earth! is. xxxii. 7. 
 Vr. xxx. 14. The whip, the buffetings, the crown of 
 thorns, the nails, the cross, the spear, with the 
 vinegar and gall, were all nothing in comparison 
 of our sins. ‘ For the transgression of my people 
 was he stricken.’ is. lrn. 8. Nor were the flouts, 
 taunts, mocks, scorns, derisions, &c., with which 
 they followed him from the garden to the cross, 
 such cruel instruments as these. They were our 
 sins then, our cursed sins, by, with, and for the sake 
 of which the Lord Jesus became a bloody sacrifice. 
 
 But why must the instruments be laid upon the 
 tables ? 
 
 1. Take the tables for the hearts of the mur¬ 
 derers, and the instruments for their sins, and what 
 place more fit for such instruments to be laid upon? 
 It is God’s command that these things should be 
 laid to heart, and he complains of those that do not 
 
 do it. Is. xlii. 25; lvii. 11. 
 
 2. Nor are men ever like to come to good, until 
 these instruments with which the Son of God was 
 slain indeed be laid to heart. And they were 
 eminently laid to heart even by them soon after ; 
 the effect of which was the conversion of thousands 
 of them. Ac ii. 3 G, 37 . 
 
 3. Wherefore when it says these instruments must 
 be laid upon the stony tables, he insinuates, that 
 God would take a time to charge the murder of his 
 Son home upon the consciences of them that did 
 that murder, either to their conversion or condem¬ 
 nation. And is it not reason that they who did 
 this horrid villany, should have their doings laid 
 before their faces upon the tables of their heart ? 
 That they may look upon him whom they have 
 pierced, and mourn. Zee. xii. 10. Re. i. 7. 
 
 4. But these instruments were laid but upon 
 some of the tables, and not upon all the ten, to 
 show that not all, but some of those, so horrid, 
 should find mercy of the Lord. 
 
 5. But we must not confine these tables only to 
 the hearts of the bloody Jews ; they were our sins 
 for the which he died. Wherefore these instru¬ 
 ments should be laid upon our tables too, and the 
 Lord lay them there for good, that we also may 
 see our horrid doings, and come bending to him 
 for forgiveness ! 
 
 6 . These instruments thus lying on the tables in 
 the temple, became a continual motive to God's 
 people to repentance; for so oft as they saw these 
 
 bloody and cruel instruments, they were put in 
 mind how their sins should be the cause of the 
 death of Christ. 
 
 7. It would be well also, if these instruments 
 were at all times laid upon our tables, for our more 
 humbling for our sins in every thing we do, espe¬ 
 cially upon the Lord’s table, when we come to eat 
 and drink before him. I am sure the Lord Jesus 
 doth more than intimate, that he expects that we 
 should do so, where he saith, When ye eat that 
 bread, and drink that cup, do this in remembrance 
 of me. In remembrance that I died for your sins, 
 and consequently that they were the meritorious 
 cause of the shedding of my blood. 
 
 To conclude. Let all men remember, that these 
 cruel instruments are laid upon the table of their 
 hearts, whether they see them there or no. ‘ The 
 sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron, and 
 with the point of a diamond - upon the table of 
 their heart.’ Je xvii. l A pen of iron will make let¬ 
 ters upon a table made of stone, and the point of 
 a diamond will make letters upon glass. Where¬ 
 fore in this saying, God informs us that if we shall 
 forbear to read these lines to our conversion, God 
 will one day read them against us unto our condem¬ 
 nation. 
 
 XL1. Of the candlesticks of the Temple. 
 
 * And he made ten candlesticks of gold, accord¬ 
 ing to their form, and set them in the temple, five 
 on the right hand, and five on the left.’ 2Ch.iv. 7 . 
 
 These candlesticks were made of gold, to show 
 the worth and value of them. They were made 
 after the form, or exact, according to rule, like 
 those that were made in the tabernacle, or accord¬ 
 ing to the pattern which David gave to Solomon 
 to make them by. Observe, there was great ex¬ 
 actness in these; and need there was of this hint, 
 that men might see that every thing will not pass 
 for a right ordered candlestick with God. Ex. xxv. 
 
 O 
 
 SI—40. 1 Cli. xxviii. 15. 
 
 These candlesticks are said sometimes to be ten, 
 sometimes seven, and sometimes one; ten here; 
 seven, Re. i. 12,13, and one in Zee. iv. 1 Ten is a note 
 of multitude, and seven a note of perfection, and 
 one a note of unity. Now, as the precious stones 
 with which the house was garnished were a type 
 of ministerial gifts, so these candlesticks were a 
 type of those that were to be the churches of the 
 
 New Testament: wherefore he says, ‘ The candle- 
 
 7 *. 7 
 
 1 The candlesticks mentioned in 2 Cli. iv. 7, Zee. iv., and 
 Re. i., appear to have been of one pattern. A stem, with a 
 bowl bearing a centre and six branches—three on each side. 
 Of these there were ten in the temple. The prophets Zechar- 
 iah and John, in their holy visions, saw but one, with its seven 
 lamps secretly supplied by living olive trees. These lights 
 ‘ are the eyes of the Lord, which run to and fro through the 
 whole earththe seven lamps ‘ are the seven churches.’ What 
 a source for reflection is here opened.— (Ed.) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 487 
 
 sticks wliicli thou sawest are the seven churches.’ 
 Re. i. 12—20. 
 
 1. The candlesticks were here in number ten, to 
 show that Christ under the New Testament would 
 have a many gospel-churches. * And I, if I he 
 lifted up from the earth,’ saith he, ‘will draw all 
 men unto me;’ that is, abundance. For the chil¬ 
 dren of the desolate, that is, of the New Testament 
 church, shall be many more than they of the Jews 
 were. Jn. xii. S2. Ga. iv. 27. 
 
 2 . Jn that the candlesticks were set by the lavers 
 and stony tables, it might be to show us, that 
 Christ’s churches should be much in considering, 
 that Christ, though he was righteous, yet died for 
 our sins ; though his life was according to the holy 
 law, yet our stony hearts caused him to die. Yea, 
 and that the candlesticks are placed there, it is to 
 show us also, that we should be much in looking 
 on the sins by which we caused him to die; for 
 the candlesticks were set by those tables whereon 
 they laid the instruments with which they slew the 
 sacrifice. 
 
 3. These candlesticks being made according to 
 form, seem not only to be exact as to fashion, but 
 also as to work. For that in Exodus, with its fur¬ 
 niture, was made precisely of one talent of gold, 
 perhaps to show, that Christ’s true spouse is not 
 to be a grain more, nor a dram less, but just the 
 number of God’s elect. This is Christ’s complete¬ 
 ness, his fulness; one more, one less, would make 
 his body a monster. 
 
 4. The candlestick was to hold the light, and to 
 show it to all the house; and the church is to let 
 her light so shine that they without may see the 
 light. Mat. v. 15,16. Lu. viii. 16; xi. 33; xii. 35. 
 
 5. To this end the candlesticks were supplied 
 with oil-olive, a type of the supply that the church 
 hath, that her light may shine, even of the spirit 
 of grace. 
 
 XLII. Of the lamps belonging to the candlesticks 
 of the Temple. 
 
 To these candlesticks belonged several lamps, 
 with their flowers and their knops. Ex.xxv.33. 2Ch.iv.2i. 
 
 1. These lamps were types of that profession 
 that the members of the church do make of Christ, 
 whether such members have saving grace or not. 
 Mat. xxv. 1—7- 
 
 2. These lamps were beautified with knops and 
 flowers, to show how comelv and beautiful that 
 professor is, that adorns his profession with a suit¬ 
 able life and conversation. 
 
 3. We read that the candlestick in Zechariah 
 had seven lamps belonging to it, and a bowl of 
 golden oil 1 on the top; and that by golden pipes 
 
 1 Oil called golden, from its representing that which is 
 better than thousands of gold and silver. So pure that, in 
 the golden bowl, it would look like liquid gold.—(E d.) 
 
 this golden oil emptied itself into the lamps, and 
 all, doubtless, that the lamps might shine. Zee. iv. 2 , 12 . 
 
 4. Christ, therefore, who is the high-priest, and 
 to whom it belongs to dress the lamps, doth dress 
 them accordingly. But now r there are a lamp- 
 carriers of two sorts ; such as have only oil in their 
 lamps, and such as have oil in their lamps and 
 vessels too, and both these belong to the church, 
 and in both these Christ will be glorified: and they 
 should have their proper places at last. They that 
 have the oil of grace in their hearts, as well as a 
 profession of Christ in their hands, they shall go 
 in with him to the wedding; but they who only 
 make a profession, and have not oil in their vessels, 
 will surely miscarry at last. Mat. xxv. 
 
 5. Wherefore, 0 thou professor! thou lamp-car¬ 
 rier ! have a care and look to thyself; content not 
 thyself with that only that will maintain thee in a 
 profession, for that may be done without saving 
 grace. But I advise thee to go to Aaron, to Christ, 
 the trimmer of our lamps, and beg thy vessel full 
 of oil of him—that is, grace—for the seasoning of 
 thy heart, that thou mayest have wherewith, not 
 only to bear thee up now, but at the day of the 
 bridegroom’s coming, when many a lamp will go 
 out, and many a professor be left in the dark; for 
 that will to such be a woeful day. Le. xxiv. 2 . Mat. xxv. 
 
 Some there are that are neither for lamps nor oil 
 for themselves; neither are they pleased if they 
 think they see it in others. But they that have 
 lamps and they that have none, and they which 
 would blow out other folk’s light, must shortly 
 appear to give an account of all their doings to 
 God. And then they shall see what it is to have 
 oil in their vessels and lamps: and what it is to be 
 without in their vessels, though it is in their lamps; 
 and what a dismal thing it is to be a malignant 2 to 
 either; but at present let this suffice. 
 
 XLIII. Of the shew-bread on the golden table in the 
 
 Temple. 
 
 There was also shew-bread set upon a golden 
 table in the temple. 1 Ki. vii. 43 . The shew-bread 
 consisted of twelve cakes made of fine flour, two 
 tenth deals 3 were to go to one cake, and they were 
 to bo set in order in two rows upon the pure table. 
 
 Le. xxiv. 5—9. 
 
 1. These twelve loaves to me do seem to be a 
 type of the twelve tribes under the law, and of the 
 children of God under the gospel, as they present 
 themselves before God, in and by his ordinances 
 through Christ. Hence the apostle says, ‘For we 
 
 2 A malignant was a term of reproach given to those who, 
 in the civil wars, opposed Divine truth, and promoted popery 
 and arbitrary domination. Clarendon calls it ‘ a term imposed 
 upon those that the puritans wished to render odious to the 
 people/—(E d.) 
 
 3 A tenth deal is the tenth part of a Hebrew measure, 
 called the ephah, containing about a bushel.—(E d.) 
 
488 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
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 being many are one bread,’ &c. 1 Co. x. 17 . For so 
 were the twelve cakes, though twelve; and so are 
 the gospel-saints, though many; for ‘ we, being 
 many, are one body in Christ.’ Ro. xii. 5 . 
 
 2. But they were a type of the true church, not 
 of the false. For Ephraim, who was the head of 
 the ten tribes in their apostacy, is rejected, as ‘ a 
 cake not turned. ’ Indeed he is called a cake, as a 
 false church may be called a church: but he* is 
 called ‘a cake not turned,’ as a false church is not 
 prepared for God, nor fit to be set on the golden 
 table before him. Ho. vii. 8. 
 
 3. These cakes or shew-bread were to have 
 frankincense strewed upon them, as they stood 
 upon the golden table, which was a type of the 
 sweet perfumes of the sanctifications of the Holy 
 Ghost; to which I think Paul alludes, when he 
 says, * The offering up of the Gentiles might be 
 acceptable ’ to God, ‘ being sanctified by the Holy 
 Ghost.’ Ro. xv. 16. 
 
 4. They were to be set upon the pure table, new 
 and hot; to show that God delighted in the com¬ 
 pany of new and warm believers. ‘ I remember 
 thee, the kindness of thy youth:’ ‘when Israel was 
 a child, then I loved him.’ Je.ii. 2 . Ho. xi. 1 . Men at 
 first conversion are like to a cake well baked, and 
 new taken from the oven; they are warm, and cast 
 forth a very fragrant scent, especially when, as 
 warm, sweet incense is strewed upon them. 
 
 5. When the shew-bread was old and stale, it 
 was to be taken away, and new and warm put in 
 its place, to show that God has but little delight 
 in the service of his own people when their duties 
 grow stale and mouldy. Therefore he removed 
 his old, stale, mouldy church of the Jews from be¬ 
 fore him, and set in their rooms upon the golden 
 table the warm church of the Gentiles. 
 
 6 . The shew-bread, by an often remove and re¬ 
 newing, was continually to all them before the Lord 
 in his house, to show us, that always, as long as 
 ordinances shall be of use, God will have a new, 
 warm, and sanctified people to worship him. 
 
 7. Aaron and his sons were to eat the old shew- 
 bread, to show that when saints have lived in the 
 world as long as living is good for them, and when 
 they can do no more service for God in the world, 
 they shall yet be accepted of Jesus Christ; and 
 that it shall be as meat and drink to him to save 
 them from all their unworthinesses. 
 
 8 . The new shew-bread was to be set even on 
 the Sabbath before the Lord, to show with what 
 warmth of love and affections God’s servants 
 should approach his presence upon his holy day. 
 
 XLIY. Of the snuffers belonging to the candlesticks 
 and lamps of the Temple. 
 
 As there were candlesticks and lamps, so there 
 were snufiers also prepared for these in the temple 
 
 of the Lord. ‘ And the snuffers were snuffers of 
 gold.’ l Ki. vii. 50 . 1. Snuffers. The use of snuf¬ 
 
 fers is to trim the lamps and candles, that their 
 lights may shine the brighter. 2. Snuffers, you 
 know, are biting, pinching things; but use them 
 well, and they will prove not only beneficial to 
 those within the house, but profitable to the lights. 
 
 Snuffers, you may say, of what were they a 
 type? 
 
 Answ. If our snuffs are our superfluities of 
 naughtiness, our snuffers then are those righteous 
 reproofs, rebukes, and admonitions, which Christ 
 has ordained to be in his house for good; or, as 
 the apostle hath it, for our edification; and per¬ 
 haps Paul alludes to these when he bids Titus to 
 rebuke the Cretians sharply, that they might be 
 sound in the faith. Tit. i. 12 , 13 . As who should say, 
 they must use the snuffers of the temple to trim 
 their lights withal, if they burn not well. These 
 snuffers therefore are of great use in the temple 
 of God; only, as I said, they must be used wisely. 
 It is not for every fool to handle snuffers at or 
 about the candles, lest perhaps, instead of mend¬ 
 ing the light, they put the candle out. And 
 therefore Paul bids them that are spiritual do it. 
 Ga. vi. 1 . My reason tells me, that if I use these 
 snuffers as I should, I must not only endeavour to 
 take the superfluous snuff away, but so to do it, 
 that the light thereby may be mended; which 
 then is done if, as the apostle saith, I use sharp¬ 
 ness to edification, and not for destruction. 1 Co. v. 
 
 4, 5. 2 Co. xiii. 10. 
 
 Are not the seven churches in Asia called by 
 name of candlesticks? And why candlesticks, if 
 they Avere not to hold the candles ? And candles 
 must have snuffers therewith to trim the lights. 
 And Christ, who is our true Aaron, in those re¬ 
 bukes which he gave those churches, alluding to 
 these snuffers, did it that their lights might shine 
 the brighter. Re. ii. iii. Wherefore, as he used them, 
 he did it still with caution to their light, that it 
 might not be impaired. For as he still thus 
 trimmed these lamps, he yet encouraged what he 
 saw Avould shine if helped. He only nipt the snuff 
 away. 
 
 Thus, therefore, he came to them with these 
 snuffers in his hand, and trimmed their lamps and 
 candlesticks. Re. ii. 4 ,20 ; iii. 2 , 15 . This should teach 
 ministers, to whom it belongs under Christ to use 
 the snuffers well. Strike at the snuff, not at the 
 light, in all your rebukes and admonitions; snuff 
 not your lamps of a private revenge, but of a de¬ 
 sign to nourish grace and gifts in churches. Thus 
 our Lord himself says he did, in his using of these 
 snuffers about these candlesticks. ‘ As many,’ 
 saith he, ‘ as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be 
 zealous therefore, and repent.’ Re.iii. 19 . 
 
 To conclude; Watchman, watch, and let not 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 489 
 
 jour snuffs be too long, nor pull them off with 
 jour fingers, or carnal reasonings, but with godlj 
 admonitions, &c. Use your snuffers graciously, 
 curb vice, nourish virtue; so you will use them 
 well, and so your light will shine to the glory of 
 God. 1 
 
 XLV. Of the snuff-dishes that were with the snuffers 
 
 in the Temple. 
 
 As there were snuffers, so there were also snuff- 
 dishes in the temple; ‘ and they were also made 
 of gold.’ Ex. xxv. 38 ; xxxvii. 23. Nu. iv. 9. The Snuff- 
 dishes were those in which the snuffs were put 
 when snuffed off, and by which they were carried 
 forth of the temple. They therefore, as the snuf¬ 
 fers are, are of great use in the temple of God. 
 1. By them the golden floor of the temple is kept 
 from being daubed by the snuffs. 2. By them 
 also the clean hands of those that worship there 
 are kept from being defiled. 3. By them also the 
 stinks of the snuffs are soonest suppressed in the 
 temple ; and consequently the tender noses of them 
 that worship there preserved from being offended. 
 
 Snuffs, you know, are daubing things, stinking 
 things, nauseous things; therefore we must take 
 heed that they touch not this floor on which we 
 walk, nor defile the hands which we lift up to God, 
 when we come to worship him. But how must 
 this be done, but as we take them off with the 
 snuffers, and put them in these snuff-dishes ? Some 
 are for being at the snuffs with their fingers, and 
 will also cast them at their feet, and daub the floor 
 of God’s holy house ; but usually such do burn as 
 well as defile themselves. But is it not a shame 
 for a man to defile himself with that vice which he 
 rebuketh in another? Let us then, while we are 
 taking away the snuffs of others, hate even the 
 garment spotted by the flesh, and labour to carry 
 such stink with the snuff dishes out of the temple 
 of God. 
 
 Snuff-dishes, you may say, what are they? 
 
 I answer, If sins are the snuffs, and rebukes 
 and admonitions the snuffers; then, methinks, re¬ 
 pentance, or, in case that be wanting, the censures 
 of the church, should be the snuff-dishes. Hence, 
 repentance is called a church-cleansing grace, and 
 the censures of the church a purging out of the 
 old. leaven, and making it a new lump, l Co. v. 2 . 
 
 2 Co. viu 11. 
 
 Ah! were these snuff-dishes more of use in the 
 churches, we should not have this man’s snuff 
 defile that man’s fingers as it doth. Nor would 
 
 1 Daniel Burgess published a curious sermon, in 1697, on 
 the golden snuffers, showing that they are a type or emblem 
 of spiritual snuffing or reproving; and of pure gold, to show 
 that reprovers should be holy and unblameable. His direc¬ 
 tions and cautions are valuable, but Bunvan says much more 
 in his few lines than Burgess does in his eighty pages.—(E d.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 the temple of God be so besmeared with these 
 snuffs, and be daubed as it is. 
 
 Ah! snuffs pulled off, lie still in the temple- 
 floor, and there stink, and defile both feet and 
 fingers, both the callings and conversations of 
 temple-worshippers, to the disparaging of religion, 
 and the making of religious worship but of low < 
 esteem with men; and all, I say, for want of the 
 due use of these snuffers, and these snuff-dishes, 
 there. Nay, are not whole churches now defiled 
 with those very snuffs, that long since were plucked 
 off, and all for want of the use of these snuff- 
 dishes, according to the Lord’s commandment. 
 For you must know, that reproof and admonitions 
 are but of small use, where repentance, or church- 
 censures, are not thereto annexed. When mini¬ 
 sters use the snuffers, the people should hold the 
 snuff-dishes. 
 
 Round reproofs for sin, when they light upon 
 penitent hearts, then brave work is in the church: 
 then the snuff is not only pulled away, but carried 
 out of the temple of God aright, &c. And now 
 the worship and worshippers shine like gold. Ms 
 an ear-ring of gold, and an ornament of fine gold, 
 so is a wise reprover upon an obedient ear.’ Pr.xxv. 13 . 
 
 Ministers, it appertains to you to use the snuffers, 
 and to teach the people to hold the snuff-dishes 
 right. Ac. xx. 20 , 21 . 2 Ti. iv. 2 . We must often be snuffed 
 with these snuffers, or our light will burn but 
 dimly, our candle will also waste. Pray, therefore, 
 
 0 men of God, look diligently to your people. 
 Snuff them as you see there is need; but touch 
 not their snuff with your white fingers; a little 
 smutch on you will be seen a great way. Re¬ 
 member also that you leave them nowhere, but 
 with these snuff-dishes, that the temple may be 
 cleared of them. Do with the snuff as the neat 
 housewife doth with the toad which she finds in 
 her garden. She takes the fork, or a pair of tongs, 
 and therewith doth throw it over the pales. Cast 
 them away, I say, with fear, zeal, care, revenge, 
 and with great indignation, and then your church, 
 your conversation, your fingers, and all, will be 
 kept white and clean. 2 Co. vii. 11 . 
 
 XLVI. Of the golden tongs belonging to the Temple. 
 
 There were also tongs of gold used in the temple 
 of old. 1 Ki. vii. 49 . 1. These tongs were used about 
 
 the altar, to order the fire there. 2. They were 
 used too about the candlestick, and are therefore 
 called his tongs. 3. Perhaps there were tongs 
 for both these services; but of that the word is 
 silent. 
 
 But what were they used about the candlestick 
 to do? 
 
 Answ. To take holy fire from off the altar to 
 light the lamps withal. For the fire of the temple 
 was holy fire, such as at first was kindled from 
 
 62 
 
490 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 heaven, and when kindled, maintained by the 
 priests, and of that the lamps were lighted. Le.ix.24. 
 2 Ch. vii. l. Nor was there, upon pain of death, any 
 other fire to be used there. Le. x. 1 , 2 . These tongs, 
 therefore, were used to take fire from off the altar 
 to light the lamps and candlesticks withal. For 
 to trim the lights, and to dress the lamps, was 
 Aaron’s work day by day. He shall light and 
 order the lamps upon the pure candlestick before 
 the Lord, and Aaron did so. He lighted the seven 
 lamps thereof, as the Lord commanded Moses. 
 Ex. x. 24, 25. Le. xxiv. 2, 3. Nu. viii. 3. What is a lamp Or 
 candlestick to us, if there be not light thereon; 
 and how lighted without fire, and how shall we 
 take up coals to light the lamps withal, if we have 
 not tongs prepared for that purpose? With these 
 tongs fire also was taken from off the altar, and 
 put into the censers to burn sweet incense with, 
 before the Lord. The tongs then were of great 
 use in the temple of the Lord. 
 
 But what were the tongs a type of? 
 
 The altar was a type of Christ; the fire of the 
 Holy Ghost; and these tongues were a type of that 
 holy hand of God’s grace, by which the coals, or 
 several dispensations and gifts of the Holy Ghost, 
 are taken and given to the church, and to her 
 members, for her work and profit in this world. 
 
 Tongs, we know, are used instead of fingers; 
 wherefore Aaron’s golden tongs were a type of 
 Christ’s golden fingers. Ca v. 14. Isaiah saith that 
 one of the seraphims flew to him with 4 a live coal 
 in his hand, which he had taken with the ton^s 
 from off the altar.’ Here the type and antitype, 
 to wit, tongs and hand, are put together, is. vi. 6. 
 But the prophet Ezekiel, treating of like matters, 
 quite waives the type, the tongs, and speaketh only 
 of this holy hand; 4 And he spake unto the man 
 clothed with linen, and said, Go in between the 
 wheels under the cherub’—where the mercy-seat 
 stood, where God dwelt, Ex. xxv. Ps. lxxx. 1 ; — 4 and 
 fill thy hand with coals of fire from between the 
 cherubims.’ Eze. x. 2 . 
 
 Thus you see our golden tongs are now turned 
 into a golden hand; into the golden hand of the 
 man clothed in linen, which is Jesus Christ, who 
 at his ascension received of God the Father the 
 Spirit in all fulness, to give, as his divine wisdom 
 knew was best, the several coals or dispensations 
 thereof unto his church, for his praise, and her 
 edification. Mat. iii. 11 . Ac. iL It is by this hand also 
 that this holy fire is put into our censers. It is 
 this hand also that takes this coal, therewith to 
 touch the lips of ministers, that their words may 
 warm like fire; and it is by this hand that the 
 Spirit is given to the churches, as returns of their 
 holy prayers. Lu. xi. 9-13. Ro. viii. 26. Re. viii. 5. 
 
 It was convenient that the fire in the temple 
 should he disposed of by golden tongs; but the 
 
 Holy Ghost, by the golden hand of Christ’s grace, 
 for that can wittingly dispose of it, according as 
 men and things are placed, and to do and be done 
 in the churches; wherefore he adds, ‘And one 
 cherub stretched forth his hand from between the 
 cherubims, unto the fire that was between the 
 cherubims, and took thereof, and put it into the 
 hands of him that was clothed with linen, who took 
 it and went out. ’ Eze. x. 7 . 
 
 By this hand, then, by this Man’s hand, the 
 coals of the altar are disposed of, both to the 
 lamps, the candlesticks, the censers, and the lips 
 of ministers, according to his own good pleasure. 
 And of all this were the tongs in the temple a type. 
 
 XLYII. Of the altar of incense in the Temple. 
 
 The alter of incense was made first for the 
 tabernacle, and that of shittim wood; but it was 
 made for the temple of cedar, and it was to be 
 set before the veil, that is, by the ark of the tes¬ 
 timony, before the mercy-seat; that is, at the 
 entering of the holiest, but not within. And the 
 priest was to approach it every morning, which, 
 as to the holiest, he might not do. Besides, when 
 he went in to make an atonement, he was to take 
 fire from off that altar to burn his incense within 
 the holy place. Ex. xxx. 1—ID. Le. xvi. 18. 
 
 1. It was called the golden altar, because it was 
 overlaid with pure gold. This altar was not for 
 burnt-offering, as the brazen altar was; nor for 
 the meat-offering, nor the drink-offering, but to 
 burn incense thereon. Ex. xxx. 7 . Which sweet 
 incense was a type of grace and prayer. Ps. cxii. ii. 
 
 2. Incense, or that called incense here, was not 
 a simple but a compound, made up of sweet spices 
 called stade, onycha, and galbanum; and these 
 three, may answer to these three parts of this 
 duty, to wit, prayer, supplication, and intercession. 
 Ex. xxx. 34—37; xxxvii. 29. 1 Ti. ii. 1. 
 
 3. This incense was to be burned upon the altar 
 every morning; upon that altar which was called 
 the altar of incense, which was before the veil; to 
 show that it is our duty every morning to make 
 our prayer to God by Jesus Christ before the 
 veil; that is, before the door of heaven, and there 
 to seek, knock, and ask for what we need, accord¬ 
 ing to the word. Lu. xi. 9—13. 
 
 4. This incense was to be kindled every morn¬ 
 ing, to show how He continueth interceding for 
 us, and also that all true praise of men to God is 
 by the work, the renewed work, of the Holy Ghost 
 upon our hearts. Ro. viii. 26. 
 
 5. Incense, as you see, was made of sweet 
 spices, such as were gummy, and so apt to bum 
 with a smoke, to show, that not cold and flat, but 
 hot and fervent, is the prayer that flows from the 
 spirit of faith and grace. Zee. xii. 10 . Je. v. 10 . 
 
 6. The smoke of this incense was very sweet 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 491 
 
 mul savoury, like pleasant perfume, to show how 
 delightful and acceptable the very sound and noise 
 of right prayer is unto the nostrils of the living 
 God, because it comes from a broken heart, rs. li. 
 
 17. Ca. ii. 14. 
 
 7. This incense was to be offered upon the 
 golden altar, to show us that no prayer is accepted 
 but what is directed to God in the name of his 
 holy and blessed Son our Saviour. iPe.ii.5. lie. xiii. is. 
 
 S. They were commanded to burn incense every 
 morning upon this altar, to show that God is never 
 weary of the godly prayers of his people. It also 
 showeth that we need every day to go to God for 
 fresh supplies of grace to carry us through this 
 evil world. 
 
 9. This altar, though it stood without the veil, 
 to teach us to live by faith, and to make use of 
 the name of Christ, as we find it recorded in the 
 first temple, yet was placed so nigh unto the 
 holiest, that the smell of the smoke might go in 
 thither; to show that it is not distance of place 
 that can keep the voice of true prayer from our 
 God, the God of heaven; but that he will be taken 
 with what we ask for according to his word. It 
 stood, I say, nigh the veil, nigh the holiest; and 
 he that burnt incense there, did make his approach 
 to God. Hence the Psalmist, when he spake of 
 praying, saith, ‘ It is good for me to draw near to 
 God/ Ps lxxiiL 28. He. x. 22. 
 
 10. This altar thus placed did front the ark 
 within the veil; to put us in mind that the law is 
 kept therein from hurting us; to let us know also 
 that the mercy-seat is above, upon the ark, and 
 that God doth sit thereon, with his pardon in his 
 hand to save us. 0! what speaking things are 
 types, shadows, and parables, had we but eyes to 
 see, had we but ears to hear ! He that did ap¬ 
 proach the altar with incense of old aright—and 
 tiien he did so when he approached it by Aaron, 
 his high-priest—pleased God ; how much more 
 shall we have both person and prayers accepted, 
 and a grant of what we need, it indeed we come 
 as we should to God by Jesus Christ. But take 
 heed you approach not to a wrong altar ; take 
 heed also that you come not with strange fire; for 
 they are dangerous things, and cause the worship¬ 
 pers to miss of what they would enjoy. But more 
 of this in the next particular. 
 
 XLVIII. Of the golden censers belonging to the 
 
 Temple. 
 
 There were also golden censers belonging to the 
 temple, and they were either such as belonged to 
 the sons of Levi in general, or that were for Aaron 
 and his sons in special. Nu. xvi.c, 17 , is. The censers 
 of the Levites were a type of ours; but the censer 
 of Aaron was a type of Christ’s. The censers, as 
 was hinted before, were for this use in the temple, 
 
 namely, to hold the holy fire in, on which incense 
 was to be burned before the Lord. Le. x. l, 2 . 
 
 These censers then were types of hearts. Aaron’s 
 golden one was a type of Christ’s golden heart, 
 and the censers of the Levites were types of other 
 worshippers’ hearts. The fire also which was put 
 therein was a type of that Spirit by which we pray, 
 and the incense that burnt thereon, a type of our 
 desires. Of Christ’s censer we read, Revelations 
 the eighth, which is always filled with much in¬ 
 cense ; that is, with continual intercessions, which 
 he offereth to God for us ; and from whence also 
 there always goes a cloud of sweet savour, cover¬ 
 ing the mercy-seat. Le. xvi. 13. He. vii. 25. Re. viii. 3,4. 
 
 But to speak of the censers, and fire, and in¬ 
 cense of the worshippers; for albeit they were all 
 put under one rule, that is, to be according to law, 
 yet oftentimes, as were the worshippers, such were 
 the censers, fire, and incense. 1. Hence the two 
 hundred and fifty censers with which Korah and 
 his company offered, are called the censers of sin¬ 
 ners ; for they came with wicked hearts then to 
 burn incense before the Lord. Nu. xvi. 17 ,37. 2. 
 
 Again, as the censers of these men were called the 
 censers of sinners, showing they came at that time 
 to God with naughty hearts, so the fire that was 
 in Nadab and Abihu’s censers is called strange 
 fire, which the Lord commanded them not. Le.x.i. 
 3. This strange fire was a type of that strange 
 spirit opposed to the Spirit of God, in and by 
 which, notwithstanding, some adventure to perform 
 worship to God. 4. Again, as these censers aie 
 called the censers of sinners, and this fire called 
 strange fire, so the incense of such is also called 
 strange, and is said to be an abomination unto 
 God. Ex. xxx. 9. Is. i. 13 ; lxvi. 3. 
 
 Thus you see that both the censers, fire, and 
 incense of some is rejected, even as the heart, 
 spirit, and prayer of sinners are an abomination 
 unto God. IIo. vii. 14 ; iv. 12 ; v. 4. Pr. xxviii. 9. 
 
 But there were besides these true censers, holy 
 fire and sweet incense among the worshippers in 
 the temple, and their service was accepted by 
 Aaron their high-priest; for that was through the 
 faith of Christ, and these were a type of our true 
 gospel worshippers, who come with holy hearts, 
 the holy spirit, and holy desires before their God, 
 by their Redeemer. These are a perfume in his 
 nose. 4 The prayer of the upright is his delight.’ 
 Pr. xv. 8. Their prayers went up like ‘incense, and 
 the lifting up of their hands as the evening sacri¬ 
 fice.’ Ps. cxli. 2. 
 
 Let them then that pretend to worship before 
 God in his holy temple look to it, that both their 
 censers, fire, and incense, heart, spirit, and desires, 
 be such as the word requires; lest, instead of re¬ 
 ceiving of gracious returns from the God of heaven, 
 their censers be laid up against them; lest the 
 
492 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 iiie of God devours them, and their incense become 
 an abomination to him, as it happened to those 
 made mention of before. 
 
 But it is said the censers of Korah and his com¬ 
 pany was hallowed. 
 
 # Answ. So is God’s worship, which is so his by 
 his ordination, yet even that very worship may be 
 spoiled by man’s transgression. Prayer is God’s 
 ordinance, but all prayer is not accepted of God. 
 We must then distinguish between the thing com¬ 
 manded, and our using of that thing. The temple 
 was God s house, but was abused by the irreverence 
 of those that worshipped there, even to the demol¬ 
 ishing of it. 
 
 A golden censer is a gracious heart, heavenly 
 fire is the Holy Ghost, and sweet incense the effec¬ 
 tual fervent prayer of faith. Have you these ? 
 These God expects, and these you must have if 
 
 ever your persons or performances be of God 
 accepted. 
 
 XLIX. Of the golden spoons of the Temple. 
 
 1. The golden spoons belonging to the temple 
 were in number, according to Moses, twelve- 
 answering to the twelve tribes. Nu.vii.86. But 
 when the temple was built, I suppose they were 
 more, because of the number of the basons. 
 
 2. The spoons, as I suppose, were for the wor¬ 
 shippers in the temple to eat that broth withal, 
 wherein the trespass-offerings were boiled: for 
 which purpose there were several cauldrons hano-ed 
 m the corners of that court called the priest’s to 
 boil them in. 1 Sa. ii. 13, 14. Eze. xlvi. 19, 20. 
 
 3. !Now, in that he saith here were spoons, 
 what is it but that there are also babes in the 
 temple of the Lord. There was broth for babes 
 
 as well as meat for men, and spoons to eat the 
 broth withal. 
 
 4. True, the gospel being more excellent than 
 the law, doth change the term, and instead of 
 broth, saith, There is milk for babes. But in that 
 he saith milk, he insinuates there are spoons for 
 children in the church. 
 
 5. ‘I could not,’ saith Paul to them at Corinth, 
 
 ‘speak to you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal* 
 even as unto babes in Christ. I have fed you with 
 milk and not with meat; for hitherto ye were not 
 
 able to bear ii, neither yet now are ye able.’ i Co. 
 iii. 1, 2. 
 
 6 . See, here were need of spoons, milk is spoon 
 meat; for here were those which could not feed 
 themselves with milk, let them then that are men 
 eat the strong meat. ‘ For every one that useth 
 mdk is unskilful in the word of righteousness, for 
 he is a babe. But strong meat belongeth to them 
 tnat are of full age, even those who, by reason of 
 use, have their senses exercised to discern both 
 good and evil.’ He. v. is, i 4 . 
 
 i . Spoons, you know, are to feed us with weak 
 and thin food, even with that which best suiteth 
 with weak stomachs, or with a babyish temper. 
 Hence, as the strong man is opposed to the weak, 
 so the milk is opposed to the strong meat. 
 
 8 . So then, though the babe in Christ is weaker 
 than the man in Christ, yet is he not by Christ left 
 unprovided for; for here is milk for babes, and 
 spoons to eat it with. All this is taught us by 
 the spoons; for what need is there of spoons where 
 there is nothing to eat but strong meat ? 
 
 9. Babes, you know, have not only babyish 
 stomachs, but also babyish tricks, and must be 
 dealt withal as babes; their childish talk and 
 frompered carriages must be borne withal. 
 
 10 . Sometimes they cry for nothing, yea, and 
 count them for their foes which rebuke their 
 childish toys and ways. All which the church 
 must bear, because they are God’s babes; yea, 
 they must feed them too: for if he has found them 
 mihv and spoons, it is that they may be fed there¬ 
 with, and live: yea, grown ministers are God’s 
 nurses, wherefore they must have a lap to lay them 
 in, and knees to dandle them upon, and spoons to 
 feed them with. 1 
 
 11 . hoi are the babes but of use in the church 
 of God ; for he commands that they may be brought 
 to cry with the congregation before the Lord for 
 mercy for the land. Joel ii. 16. 
 
 12 . Incense, I told you, was a type of prayers, 
 and the spoons, in the time of Moses, were pre¬ 
 sented at the temple full of it. Perhaps to show 
 that God will, with the milk which he has provided 
 for them, give it to them as a return of their crying 
 
 to him, even as the nurse gives the child the teat 
 and milk. 
 
 You know the milk is called for when the 
 child is crying, as we say, to stop its mouth with 
 it. 0 babes! did you but cry soundly, God would 
 give you yet more milk. 
 
 > 1^- H 11 ^ what were these golden spoons a tvpe 
 of? .1 answer, if the milk is the juice and con¬ 
 solations of the Word, then the spoons must bo 
 those soft sentences and golden conclusions with 
 which the ministers feed their souls by it. ‘ I have 
 fed you,’ saith Paul, ‘ with the milk of the Word;’ 
 saith Peter, 4 even as you have been able to bear 
 it.’ Compare these two or three texts— iPe.ii. 1 - 3 . 
 
 1 Co. iii. 2. 1 Th. ii. 7. 
 
 15. And this is the way to strengthen the weak 
 
 Great was the fatherly care felt by Bunyan for his owu 
 children especially for his blind Mary; and judging by the 
 lessons he draws from the temple spoons, those feelings ex¬ 
 tended to his church. It must be a severe trial to a minister’s 
 temper, when teased with babes in religion at three score and 
 ten years of age, especially if they are old professors. Thus 
 Bunyan, m addressing the readers of his emblems, savs- 
 
 ‘We now have boys with beards, and girls that be 
 huge as old women wanting gravity.’_ (Ed.) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 493 
 
 hands, and to confirm the feeble knees. This is 
 the way to make them grow to he men who now 
 are hut as infants of days. ‘ Thus a little one 
 shall become a thousand, and a small one a strong 
 nation.’ Yea, thus in time you may make a little 
 child to jostle it with a leopard; yea, to take a 
 lion by the beard; yea, thus you may embolden 
 him to put his hand to the hole, of the asp, and to 
 play before the den of the cockatrice, is.xi. 6 —s; ix. 22 . 
 
 Who is most stout was once a babe; he that 
 can now eat meat was sometimes glad of milk, 
 and to be fed with the spoon. Babes in Christ, 
 therefore, must not be despised nor overlooked; 
 God has provided them milk and spoons to eat 
 it with, that they may grow up to be men before 
 him. 
 
 L. Of the holds and basons belonging to the Temple. 
 
 As there were spoons, so there were bowls and 
 basons belonging to the temple. Some of these 
 were of gold, and some of silver; and when they 
 were put together, their number was four hundred 
 and forty. These you read of, Ezr. i. 10 . The bowls 
 or basons were not to wash in, as was the sea and 
 lavers of the temple; they were rather to hold the 
 messes in, which the priests at their holy feasts did 
 use to set before the people. This being so, they 
 were types of that proportion of faith by which, or 
 by the measure of which, every man received of 
 the holy food for the nourishment of his soul. For, 
 as a man, had he a thousand messes set before 
 him, he eating for his health, cannot go beyond 
 what his stomach will bear; so neither can the 
 child of God, when he comes to worship in the 
 temple of God, receive of the good things that are 
 there, beyond the ‘proportion of his faith.’ Ro.xii.6. 
 Or, as it is in another place, according to ‘ the 
 ability which God giveth.’ 1 p e . iv. 11 . And hence 
 it is, at the self-same ordinance, some receive three 
 times as much as others do; for that their bowl, 
 
 I mean their faith, is able to receive it. Yea, 
 Benjamin’s mess was five times as big as was the 
 mess of any of his brethren ; and so it is with some 
 saints while they eat Avith their brother Joseph in 
 the house of the living God. 
 
 There are three go to the same ordinance, and 
 are all of them believers; Avho, Avhen they come 
 home, and compare notes, do find their receivings 
 are not of the same quantity. One says, I got 
 but little; the other says, It Avas a pretty good 
 ordinance to me; the third says, I Avas exceeding 
 AA r cll there. Why, to be sure, he that had but 
 little there, had there but little faith; for great 
 faith in him would have received more. He had 
 it then according to the largeness of his boAA r l, even 
 according to his faith, ‘ as God hath dealt to every 
 man the measure of faith.’ Ro. xii. s. Mark, faith is 
 a certain measure, and that not only as to its de¬ 
 
 gree, hut for that it can receive, retain, or hold 
 what is put into it. 
 
 So then, here it is no matter Iioav much milk or 
 holy broth there is; but how big is thy bowl, thy 
 faith. Little boAvls hold but little, nor canst thou 
 receive but as thy faith will bear; I speak uoav of 
 God’s ordinary dealing with his people, for so he 
 saitli in his Word, ‘ According to your faith be it 
 unto you. ’ Mat. ix. 29 . If a man goeth to the ocean 
 sea for water, let him carry but an egg-shell Avith 
 him, and with that he shall not bring a gallon 
 home. I knoAv, indeed, that our little pot3 have a 
 promise of being made like the boAvls of the altar; 
 but still our mess must be according to our mea¬ 
 sure, be that small, or be it great. The same 
 prophet saitli again, the saints shall be * filled like 
 boAvls, and as the corners of the altar;’ which, 
 though it supposes an enlargement, yet it must be 
 confined to that measure of faith Avhich is provided 
 for its reception. Zee. ix. 35 ; xiv. 20 . And suppose 
 these bowls should signify the promises, though 
 the saints, not the promises, are compared to them, 
 because they, not promises, are the subjects of 
 faith ; yet it is the promise by our measure of faith 
 in that, that is nourishing to our souls. 
 
 When Ahasuerus made a feast to his subjects, 
 they drank their wine in boAvls. They did not 
 drink it by the largeness of the vessel AYhence they 
 dreAv it, but according to their health, and as their 
 stomachs Avould so receive it. Es. i. 7 , 8. Thy faith, 
 then, is one of the boivls or basons of the temple, 
 by, or according to which, thou receivest thy mess, 
 Avhen thou sittest feasting at the table of God. 
 And observe, all the bowls were not made of gold, 
 as all faith is not of a saving sort. It is the golden 
 faith that is right; the silver bowls were of an 
 inferior sort. Re. m. is. 
 
 Some, I say, have golden faith; all faith is not 
 so. Wherefore look to it, soul, that thy botvl, thy 
 faith, be golden faith, or of the best kind. Look, 
 I say, after a good faith, and great, for a great 
 faith receives a great mess. Of old, beggars did 
 use to carry their boAvls in their laps, when they 
 went to a door for an alms. 1 Consequently, if 
 their boAvls Avere but little, they ofttimes came olf 
 by the loss, though the charity of the giver Avas 
 large. Yea, the greater the charity, the larger the 
 loss, because the beggar’s boAvl was too little. 
 Mark it well, it is ofttimes thus in the matters of 
 our God. Art thou a beggar, a beggar at God’s 
 
 1 The degraded state of the poor, when the religious houses 
 (so called) distributed food to all comers, was long felt after the 
 suppression of those hot-beds of vice, from the encouragement 
 they gave to idleness, pauperism, and the most vicious habits. 
 Even in Bunyan’s days the beggar, carrying a bowl to receive 
 the fruit of their industrious neighbours’ toil, was still re¬ 
 membered. At intervals, plague and famine swept away the 
 helpless wretches, to the terror of all classes, llow severely 
 is this curse still felt iu Ireland.—(E d.) 
 
494 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 door, be sure thou gettest a great bowl; for as thy 
 bowl is, so will be thy mess. * According to your 
 faith,’ saitli lie, ‘ be it unto you.’ Mat. ix. 29. 
 
 LI. Of the flagons and cups of the Temple. 
 
 r I lie next thing to be considered is the flagons 
 and cups of the temple; of these we read, l Ch. 
 xxviii. 17 . Je. lii. 19. is. xxii. 24 . These were of great 
 use among the Jews, especially on their feasting 
 days; as of their sabbaths, new-moons, and the 
 
 like. Le. xxiii. 13. Nu. xxviii. 7. 1 Ch. xvi. 3. Is. xxv. 6 ; Ixii. 8, 9. 
 
 Lor instance, the day that David danced before 
 the ark, ‘lie dealt among all the people, even among 
 the whole multitude of Israel, as well to the women 
 as men, to every one a cake of bread, and a good 
 piece of flesh, and a flagon of wined 2 sa.vi. 19 . ich.xvi.3. 
 ‘In this mountain,’ that is, in the temple typically, 
 saith the prophet, ‘ shall the Lord of hosts make 
 unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast of 
 wines on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of 
 wines on the lees well refined.’ is. xxv. 6. 
 
 These are feasting times ; the times in which our 
 Lord used to have his spouse into liis wine-cellar, 
 and in which he used to display with delight his 
 banner over her head in love. Ca. ii. 4 , 5 . The church 
 of Christ, alas! is of herself a very sickly puely 
 thing; a woman; a weaker vessel; but how much 
 more must she needs be so weak, when the custom 
 of women is upon her, or when she is sick of love? 
 ihen she indeed has need of a draught, for she 
 now sinks, and will not else be supported. * Stay 
 me with flagons,’ saith she, ‘ and comfort me with 
 apples, for I am sick of love.’ Ca. ii. 5 . 
 
 These flagons, therefore, were types of those 
 feastings, and of those large draughts of Divine 
 love, that the Lord Jesus draweth for and giveth 
 to his spouse in those days that he feasteth with 
 them. For then he saith, ‘Drink, yea, drink 
 abundantly, 0 beloved.’ This he does to cheer her 
 up under her hours of sadness and dejection; for 
 now new ‘corn shall make the young men cheerful, 
 and new wine the maids. ’ Pr. xxxi. 6, 7 . Ps. cxvi. 13 . Je. xvi. 7 . 
 Ca. v. Zee. ix. 17. 
 
 As there were flagons, so there were cups; and 
 they are called cups of consolation, and cups of 
 salvation, because, as I said, they were they by 
 which God at his feastings with his people, or when 
 he suppeth with them, giveth out the more large 
 draughts of his love unto his saints, to revive the 
 spirits of the humble, and to revive the hearts of 
 the contrite ones. At these times God made 
 David’s cup run over. For we are now admitted, 
 if our faith will bear it, to drink freely into this 
 grace, and to be merry with him. Ps. xxiii. 5 . Lu. xv. 22 
 —24. Ca. v. 1; vii. 11,12. Jn. xiv. 23. Re. iii. 20. This is that 
 to which the apostle alludeth, when lie saith, ‘ Be 
 not drunk with wine, wherein is excess, but be 
 tilled with the Spirit; speaking to yourselves in 
 
 psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs, singing 
 and making melody in your heart unto the Lord.’ 
 Ep. v. 18, 19. 
 
 For the cups, as to their use in the general, 
 understand them as of the bowls made mention of 
 before. For assurances are the blooms and flowers 
 of faith, not always on it, though usually on feast- 
 ing days it is so. . So the degree of the one is still 
 according to the measure of the other. Ja. v. Ro. xv. is. 
 
 LII. Of the chargers of the Temple. 
 
 I 11 the tabernacle they had but twelve of them, 
 and they were made of silver; but in the temple 
 they had in all a thousand and thirty. The thirty 
 were made of gold, the rest were made of silver. 
 Ezr. i. 9 . Nu. vii. 84. These chargers Avere not for uses 
 common or profane, but, as I take it, they were 
 those in which the passover, and other meat-offer¬ 
 ings, were drest up, when the people came to eat 
 before God in his holy temple. The meat, you 
 know, I told you, was opposite to milk; and so are 
 these chargers to the bowls, and cups, and flagons 
 of the temple. 
 
 The meat was of two sorts, roast or boiled. Of 
 that which was roasted was the passover, and of 
 that which was boiled were the trespass-offerings. 
 Wherefore, concerning the passover, he saith, ‘ Bat 
 not of it raw, nor sodden at all with water, but 
 roast with fire; his head with his legs, and with 
 the purtenance thereof.’ Ex. xii. 9 . This roast meat 
 was a type of the body of Christ as suffering for 
 our sins, the which, when it was roast, was, and is 
 as dressed up in chargers, and set before the con¬ 
 gregations of the saints. 
 
 But what were the chargers a type of? I also 
 ask, in what charger our gospel passover is now 
 dressed up and set before the people ? Is it not 
 in the four evangelists, the prophets, and epistles 
 of the apostles ? They therefore are the chargers 
 and the ordinance of the supper; in these also are 
 the trespass-offerings, with what is fried in pans, 
 mystically prepared for the children of the Highest. 
 
 And why might they not be a type of gospel 
 sermons ? 
 
 I answer, I think not so fitly; for, alas! the best 
 of sermons in the world are but as thin slices cut 
 out of those large dishes. Our ministers are the 
 carvers, good doctrine is the meat, and the chargers 
 in which this meat is found are the holy canonical 
 Scriptures, &c., though, as I said, most properly 
 the New Testament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 In these is Christ most truly, lively, and amply 
 set before us as crucified, or roasted at the fire of 
 God’s law for our sins, that we might live by him 
 through faith, feeding upon him. 2 Co. iii. 12 . Ga. iii. 12. 
 Ac. iii. 18—22; xiii. 2—5; xxvi. 22.1 Pe. 1.10. Ac. vii. 52; xv. 15; xxviii. 
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SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 495 
 
 There is in these chargers not only meat, but 
 sauce, if you like it, to eat the meat withal; for 
 the passovcr there are bitter herbs, or sound re¬ 
 pentance ; and for other, as the thank-offerings, 
 their is holy cheerfulness and prayers to God for 
 grace. All these are set forth before in the holy 
 Scriptures, and presented to us thereby, as in the 
 gold chargers of the temple. He that will scoff at 
 this, let him scoff. The chargers were a type of 
 something; and he that can show a fitter antitype 
 than is here proposed to consideration, let him do 
 it, and I will be thankful to him. 
 
 Christians, here is your meat before you, and 
 get your carvers to slice it out for you, and this 
 know, the deeper you dip it in the sauce, the better 
 it will relish. But let not unbelief teach you such 
 manners as to make you leave the best bits behind 
 you. For your liberty is to eat freely of the best, 
 of the fat, and of the sweet. 
 
 LIII. Of the goings out, of the Temple . 
 
 As to the comings into the temple, of them we 
 have spoken already; namely, of the outer and 
 inner court, as also of the doors of the porch and 
 temple. The coming in was but one strait course, 
 and that a type of Jesus Christ; but the goings 
 out were many. Jn. x. 9; xiv. 6 . 
 
 Now, as I said, it is insinuated that the goings 
 out are many, answerable to the many ways which 
 the children of men have invented to apostatize in 
 from God. Christ is the way into; but sin the 
 way out of the temple of God. True, I read not of 
 a description of the goings out of this house, as I 
 read of the comings in. Oidy when they had 
 Athaliah out thence, she is said to go out by the 
 way by which the horses come into the king’s 
 stables, and there she was slain, as it were upon 
 the horse dung-hill. 2 Ki. xi. 16. 2 Ch. xxiii. 15. When 
 Uzziah also went out of this house for his trans¬ 
 gression, he was cast out of all society, and made 
 to dwell in a kind of a pest-house, even to the day 
 of his death. 2 Ch. xxvi. 21. 
 
 Tlius, therefore, though these goings out are not 
 
 7 7 © o o 
 
 particularly described, the judgments that followed 
 them that have for their transgressions been thrust 
 out thence, have been both remarkable and tremen¬ 
 dous: for to die upon a dung-hill, or in a pest-house, 
 and that for wicked actions, is a shameful, a dis¬ 
 graceful thing. And God will still be spreading- 
 dung upon the faces of such; no greatness shall 
 prevent it. iiai. ii. 3. Yea, and will take them away 
 with it. ‘ I will drive them out of my house,’ says 
 he, ‘ I will love them no more.’ iio.ix. 15. 
 
 But what are we to understand in gospel days, 
 by going out of the house of the Lord, for or by 
 sin ? I answer, if it be done voluntarily, then sin 
 ieads you out; if it be done by the holy compulsion 
 of the church, then it is done by the judicial judg¬ 
 
 ment of God; that is, they are cut off, and cast 
 out from thence, as a just reward for their trans¬ 
 gressions. 1 Le. xx; xxii. 3. Eze. xiv. 8. 1 Co. v. 13. 
 
 Well, but whither do they go, that are thus gono 
 out of the temple or church of God ? I answer, 
 not to the dunghill with Athaliah, nor to the pest- 
 house with Uzziah, but to the devil, that is the 
 first step, and so to hell, without repentance. But 
 if their sin be not unpardonable, they may by re¬ 
 pentance be recovered, and in mercy tread these 
 courts again. Now the way to this recovery is to 
 think seriously what they have done, or by what 
 way they went out from the house of God. Hence 
 the prophet is bid to show to the rebellious house, 
 first the goings out of the house, and then the 
 comings in. But, I say, first he bids show them 
 the goings out thereof. Eze. xim. 10 , n. And this 
 is of absolute necessity for the recovering of the 
 sinner. For until lie that has sinned himself out 
 of God’s house shall see what danger he has 
 incurred to himself by this his wicked going out, 
 he will not unfeignedly desire to come in thither 
 again. 
 
 O 
 
 There is another thing as to this point to be 
 taken notice of. There is a way by which God 
 also doth depart from this house, and that also is 
 by sin, as the occasion. The sin of a man will 
 thrust him out, and the sin of men will drive God 
 out of his own house. Of this you read, Eze. xi. 22 , 
 23 . For this, he saith, * I have forsaken mine 
 house, I have left mine heritage, I have given the 
 dearly beloved of my soul into the hand of her 
 enemies.’ Je. xii. 7 . And this also is dreadful. The 
 great sentence of Christ upon the Jews lay much 
 in these words, ‘ Your house is left unto you deso¬ 
 late;’ that is, God has left you to bare walls, and 
 to lifeless traditions. Consider, therefore, of this 
 going out also. Alas ! a church, a true church, 
 is but a poor thing if God leaves, if God forsakes 
 it. By a true church I mean one that is congre¬ 
 gated according to outward rule, that has sinned 
 God away, as she had almost quite done that was 
 of Laodicea. Re. m. 
 
 He that sin3 himself out, can find no good in the 
 world; and they that have sinned God out, can 
 
 1 IIow careful ought churches to be in casting out an offend¬ 
 ing member, seeing that their sentence should be as ‘ the 
 judicial judgment of God.’ It is not revenge, hatred, malice, 
 or the mere exercise of power, that is to lead to it; it is the 
 good of the individual that is to be pursued and sought. 
 While the church endeavours to remain pure, its aim and 
 object should be mainly to correct and reform the offender, 
 that his spirit may be saved. When discipline is undertaken 
 from any other motive than this; and when it is pursued from 
 private pique, or rivalship, or ambition, or the love of power, 
 it is wrong. The salvation of the offender, and the glory of 
 God, should prompt to all the measures which should be 
 taken in the case. ‘ Restore such an one in the spirit of 
 meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted,’ 
 Gal. vi. 1.—Eu. 
 
496 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 lind no good in the church. A church that has 
 sinned God away from it, is a sad lump indeed. 
 You therefore that are in God’s church, take 
 heed of sinning yourselves out thence; also take 
 heed, that while you keep in, you sin not God 
 away, for thenceforth no good is there. * Yea, 
 woe to them when I depart from them! ’ saith 
 God. Ho. ix. 12. 
 
 LIY. Of the singers belonging to the Temple. 
 
 Having thus far passed through the temple, I 
 now come to the singers there. The singers were 
 many, hut all of the church, either Jews or prose¬ 
 lytes ; nor was there any, as I know of, under the 
 Old Testament worship, admitted to sing the songs 
 of the church, and to celebrate that part of worship 
 with the saints, but they who, at least in appear¬ 
 ance, were so. The song of Moses, of Deborah, 
 and of those that danced before David, with others 
 that you read of, they were all performed, either 
 by Jews by nature, or by such as were proselyted 
 to their religion. Ex. XV. 1. Jude v. 1, 2. 1 Sa. xviii. e. And 
 such worship then was occasioned by God’s great 
 appearance for them, against the power of the 
 Gentiles their enemies. 
 
 But we are confined to the songs of the temple, 
 a more distinct type of ours in the church under 
 the gospel. 1. The singers then were many, but 
 the chief of them, in the days of David, were David 
 himself, Asaph, Jeduthun, and Heman, and their 
 sons. 2. In David’s time the chief of these singers 
 were two hundred fourscore and eight. 1 Ch. xxv. 
 These singers of old were to sing their songs over 
 the burnt-offering, which were types of the sacri¬ 
 ficed body of Christ; a memorial of which offering 
 we have at the Lord’s table, the consummation of 
 which Christ and his disciples celebrated with a 
 hymn. Mat. xxvi. 30 . And as of old they were the 
 church that did sing in the temple, according to 
 institution, to God, so also they are by God’s ap¬ 
 pointment to be sung in the church by the new. 
 Hence, 
 
 1. They are said to be the redeemed that sing. 
 
 2. The songs that they sing are said to be the 
 ‘ songs of their redemption. ’ Re. v. o, 10 . 3. They 
 
 were and are songs that no man can learn but 
 they. 
 
 But let us run a little in the parallel. 
 
 1. They were of old appointed to sing, that were 
 cunning and skilful in songs. And answerable to 
 that it is said, That no man could learn our New 
 Testament songs, but the hundred and forty and 
 four thousand which were redeemed from the earth. 
 
 1 Ch. XV. 22. Re. xiv. 3. 
 
 2. These songs were sung with harps, psalteries, 
 cymbals, and trumpets ; a type of our singing with 
 spiritual joy, from grace in our hearts. 1 Ch. xxv. e. 
 
 2 Ch. xxix. 26—28. Col. ill. 16. 
 
 3. The singers of old were to be clothed in fine 
 linen; which fine linen was a type of innocency, 
 and an upright conversation. Hence the singers 
 under the New Testament are said to be virgins, 
 such in whose mouth was no guile, and that were 
 without ‘ fault before the throne of God.’ 1 ch. xv. 
 27. Re. xiv. 1—5. See also vii. 9—16. Ps. xxxiii. 1. 
 
 4. The songs sung in the temple were new, or 
 such as were compiled after the manner of repeated 
 mercies that the church of God had received, or 
 were to receive. And answerable to this, is the 
 church to sing now new songs, with new hearts, 
 for new mercies. Ps. xxxiii. 3 ; xi. 3 ; xcvi., cxiiv. 9 . Re. xiv. 3 . 
 New songs, I say, are grounded on new mat¬ 
 ter, new occasions, new mercies, new deliver¬ 
 ances, new discoveries of God to the soul, or for 
 new frames of heart; and are such as are most 
 taking, most pleasing, and most refreshing to the 
 soul. 
 
 5. These songs of old, to distinguish them from 
 heathenish ones, were called God’s songs, the 
 Lord’s songs: because taught by him, and learned 
 of him, and enjoined to them, to be sung to his 
 praise. Hence David said, God had put a new 
 song in his mouth, *even praise unto our God.’ 
 
 1 Ch. xxv. 7. Ps. xlvii. 6, 7; cxxxvii. 4; xl. 3. 
 
 6 . These songs also were called ‘ the songs of 
 Zion,’ and ‘ the songs of the temple.’ Ps. cxxxvii. 3. 
 Am. viii.3. And they are so called as they were theirs 
 to sing there; I say, of them of Zion, and the 
 worshippers iii the temple. I say, to sing in the 
 church, by the church, to him who is the God of 
 the church, for the mercies, benefits, and blessings 
 which she has received from him. Sion-songs, 
 temple-songs, must be sung by Sion’s sons, and 
 temple-worshippers. 
 
 The redeemed of the Lord shall return, and 
 come to Zion with songs, and everlasting joy upon 
 their heads, they shall obtain joy and gladness; 
 and sorrow and sighing shall fly away. Therefore 
 they shall come and sing in the height, or upon 
 the mountain of Zion; and shall flow together 
 thither, to the goodness of the Lord. * Break 
 forth into singing, ye mountains,’ and let the in¬ 
 habitants of the rock sing. is. xliv. 23 ; xlii. 11 ; ii. 11 . 
 
 To sing to God, is the highest worship we are 
 capable of performing in heaven ; and it is much if 
 sinners on earth, without grace, should be capable 
 of performing it, according to his institution, ac¬ 
 ceptably. I pray God it be done by all those that 
 now-a-days get into churches, in spirit and with 
 understanding. 1 
 
 1 Iu Bunyan s * now a days/ it was much debated whether 
 singing ought to be introduced in a mixed assembly. It was 
 contended that a voice and talent for singing does not accom¬ 
 pany the new birth; that it might tend to hypocrisy and vanity; 
 and that it was not expressly commanded. The Quakers re 
 jected it, but all other sects adopted that delightful part of 
 public worship. See Reach’s Breach Repaired.— (Ed.) 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 497 
 
 V. Of the union of the holy and most holy Temple. 
 
 That commonly called the temple of God at 
 Jerusalem, considered as standing of two parts, 
 was called the outward and inward temple, or, the 
 holy and most holy place. They were built upon 
 one and the same foundation; neither could one go 
 into the holiest, but as through the holy place. 
 
 1 Ki. iii. 1; vi. 1. 2 Cb. v. 1,13; vii. 2. 
 
 The first house, namely, that which we have 
 been speaking of, was a type of the church-mili¬ 
 tant, and the place most holy a type of the church- 
 triumphant ; I say, of the church-triumphant, as 
 it now is. 
 
 So, then, the house standing of these two parts, 
 was a shadow of the church both in heaven and 
 earth. And for that they are joined together by 
 one and the same foundation, it was to show, that 
 they above, and we below, are yet one and the 
 self-same house of God. Hence they, and we to¬ 
 gether, are called, ‘ The whole family in heaven 
 and earth.’ Ep.iii. 14,15. 
 
 And hence it is said again, that we who believe 
 on earth ‘ are come unto mount Zion, and uuto the 
 city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, 
 and to an innumerable company of angels, to 
 the general assembly and church of the first-born, 
 which are written in heaven, and to God the judge 
 of all, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, 
 and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, 
 and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better 
 things than that of Abel.’ He. xii. 22 —24. 
 
 The difference, then, betwixt us and them is, 
 not that we are really two, but one body in Christ, 
 in divers places. True, we are below stairs, and 
 they above; they in their holiday, and we in our 
 working-day clothes; they in harbour, but we in 
 the storm; they at rest, and we in the wilderness; 
 they singing, as crowned with joy; we crying, as 
 crowned with thorns. But, I say, we are all of one 
 house, one family, and are all the children of one 
 Father. This, therefore, we must not forget, lest 
 we debar ourselves of much of that which other¬ 
 wise, while here, we have a right unto. Let us, 
 therefore, I say, remember, that the temple of God 
 is but one, though divided, as one may say into 
 kitchen and hall, above stairs and below; or holy 
 and most holy place. For it stands upon the same 
 foundation, and is called but one, the temple of 
 God; which is built upon the Lord our Saviour. 
 
 I told you before, that none of old could go into 
 the most holy, but by the holy place, even by the 
 veil that made the partition between. Ex. xxvi. 33 Le. 
 xvL 2 , 12 , 15 . He. ix. 7 , 8; x. id. Wherefore, they are de¬ 
 ceived that think to go into the holiest, which is 
 heaven, when they die, who yet abandon and hate 
 the holy place, while they live. Nay, Sirs, the 
 way into the holiest is through the holy place; 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 the way into heaven is through the church on 
 earth; for that Christ is there by his word to be 
 received by faith, before he can by us in person be 
 received in the beatical vision. The church on 
 earth is as the house of the women, spoken of in 
 the book of Esther, where we must be dieted, 
 perfumed, and made fit to go into the bride¬ 
 groom’s chamber, or as Paul says, ‘ made meet to 
 be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in 
 light.’ Es. ii. Col. i. 12 . 
 
 LYI. Of the holiest or inner Temple. 
 
 The most holy place was, as I said, a figure of 
 heaven itself, consequently a type of that where 
 the most special presence of God is, and where his 
 face is most clearly seen, and the gladness of his 
 countenance most enjoyed. lie. ix. 23 , 24 . Ex.xxv. 22 . Nu. 
 vii. 89. 
 
 The most holy place was dark, it had no windows 
 in it, though there were such round the chambers; 
 the more special presence of God, too, on Mount 
 Sinai, was in the thick darkness there. 1 Ki. viii. 12 . 
 2 Ch. vii. 1. Ex. xix. 9; xx. 21. 
 
 1. This holiest, therefore, being thus made, was 
 to show that God, as in heaven, to us on earth is 
 altogether invisible, and not to be reached other- 
 wise than by faith. For, I say, in that this house 
 had no windows, nothing therein could be seen by 
 the highest light of this world. Things there were 
 only seen by the light of the fire of the altar, which 
 was a type of the shillings of the Holy Ghost. 1 Co. ii. 
 And hence it is said, notwithstanding this dark¬ 
 ness, ‘ He dwelleth in the light, which no man can 
 approach unto;’ none but the high-priest, Christ. 
 1 Ti. vi. 16. 1 Pe. iii. 21, 22. 
 
 2. The holiest, therefore, was thus built, to show 
 how different our state in heaven will be from this 
 our state on earth. We walk here by one light, 
 by the light of a written word; for that is now a 
 light to our feet, and a lanthorn to our path. But 
 that place, where there will be no written word, 
 nor ordinances as here, will yet to us shine more 
 light and clear, than if all the lights that are in the 
 world were put together, to light one man. ‘ For 
 God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.’ 
 1 Jn. i. 5 . And in his light, and in the light of the 
 Lamb immediately, we shall live, and walk, and 
 rejoice all the days of eternity. 
 
 3. This also was ordained thus, to show that we, 
 while in the first temple, should live by faith, as to 
 what there was, or as to what was done in the 
 second. Hence it is said, as to that, ‘ we walk by 
 faith, not by sight.’ 2 Co. v. 9. The things that are 
 there we are told of, even of the ark of the testi¬ 
 mony, and mercy-seat, and the cherubims of glory, 
 and the presence of Christ, and of God : we are, I 
 say, told of them by the word, and believe, and are 
 taken therewith, and hope to go to them hereafter; 
 
 63 
 
498 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 but otherwise we see them not. Therefore we are I 
 said to ‘ look, not at the things which are seen, 
 but at the things which are not seen; for the things 
 which are seen are temporal, but the things which 
 are not seen are eternal.’ 2 Co. iv. 18. 
 
 4. The people of old were not to look into the 
 holiest, lest they died, save only their high-priest, 
 he might go into it. Nu. xvii. 13. To show that we, 
 while here, must have a care of vain speculations, 
 for there is nothing to be seen, by us while here, 
 in heaven, otherwise than by faith in God’s eternal 
 testament. True, we may now come to the holiest, 
 even as niglr as the first temple will admit us to 
 come; but it must be by blood and faith, not by 
 vain imagination, sense, or carnal reason. He. x. 19. 
 
 5. This holiest of all was four square every way, 
 both as to height, length, and breadth. To be 
 thus, is a note of perfection, as I have showed else¬ 
 where ; wherefore it was on purpose thus built, to 
 show us that all fulness of blessedness is there, 
 both as to the nature, degree, and duration. So 
 ‘ when that which is perfect is come, then that 
 which is in part shall be done away.’ l Co. xiii. 8-io. 
 He. x. 19—22. 
 
 LVII. Of the veil of the Temple. 
 
 The veil of the temple was a hanging made of 
 ‘blue and purple, and scarlet, and fine twined 
 linen,’ and there were cherubims wrought thereon. 
 
 Ex. xxvi. 31. 
 
 1. This veil was one partition, betwixt the holy 
 and most holy place; and I take it, it was 4o keep 
 from the sight of the worshippers the things most 
 holy, when the high-priest went in thither, to ac¬ 
 complish the Service Of God. Ex. xxvi. 33. 2 Ch. iii. 14. He. 
 ix. 8. 
 
 2. The veil was a type of two things. 
 
 (1.) Of these visible heavens through which 
 Christ passed when he went to make intercession 
 for us. And as by the veil, the priest went out of 
 the sight of the people, when he went into the 
 holiest of all, so Jesus Christ when he ascended, 
 was by the heavens, that great and stretched out 
 curtain, received out of the sight of his people 
 here. Also by the same curtain, since it is be¬ 
 come as a tent for him to dwell in, he is still re¬ 
 ceived, and still kept out of our sight; for now 
 we see him not, nor shall, until these heavens be 
 rolled together as a scroll, and pass away like a 
 thing rolled together, is. xi. 22 . Ac. i. 9—11; iii. 19— 21 . 
 1 Pe. i. 8. 
 
 (2.) This is that veil through which the apostle 
 saith, Jesus is, as a forerunner for us, entered into 
 the presence of God. For by veil here also must 
 be meant the heavens, or outspread firmament 
 thereof; a3 both Mark and Peter say, He ‘ is gone 
 into heaven, and is on the right hand of God.’ Mar. 
 
 xvi. 19. 1 Pe. iii. 22. 
 
 3. The veil of the temple was made of blue, 
 the very colour of the heaven. Of purple and 
 crimson, and scarlet also, which are the colours of 
 many of the clouds, because of the reflections of 
 the sun. But again, 
 
 4. The veil was also a type of the body of 
 Christ. For as the veil of the temple, when whole, 
 kept the view of the things of the holiest from us, 
 but when rent, gave place to man to look in unto 
 them; even so the body of Christ, while whole, 
 kept the things of the holiest from that view, we, 
 since he was pierced, have of them. Hence we 
 are said to enter into the holiest, by faith, through 
 the veil, that is to say, his flesh. He. x. 19 - 22 . But 
 yet, I say, all is by faith; and, indeed, the rend¬ 
 ing of the veil that day that Christ was crucified, 
 did loudly preach this to us. For no sooner was 
 the body of Christ pierced, but the veil of the 
 temple rent in twain from the top to the bottom; 
 and so a way was made for a clearer sight of what 
 was there beyond it, both in the type and antitype. 
 
 Mat. xxvii. 50—53. He. x. 19, 20. 
 
 Thus you see that the veil of the temple was a 
 type of these visible heavens, and also of the body 
 of Christ; of the first, because he passed through 
 it unto the Father; of the second, because we by 
 it have boldness to come to the Father. 
 
 I read also of two other veils, as of that spread 
 over the face of Moses, to the end that the chil¬ 
 dren of Israel should not stedfastly behold; and of 
 the first veil of the tabernacle. But of these I 
 shall not in this place speak. 
 
 Upon the veil of the temple there were also the 
 figures of cherubims wrought, that is, of angels; 
 to show, that as the angels are with us here, and 
 wait upon us all the days of our pilgrimage in this 
 world; so when we die, they stand ready, even at 
 the veil, at the door of these heavens, to come 
 when bid, to fetch us, and carry us away into 
 Abraham’s bosom. Lu. xvi. 22 . 
 
 The veil, then, thus understood, teaches us first 
 where Jesus is, namely, not here, but gone into 
 heaven, from whence we should wait for him. It 
 also teaches us, that if we would even now discern 
 the glories that are in the holiest of all, we must 
 look through Jesus to them, even through the veil, 
 ‘ that is to say, his flesh.’ Yea, it teaches us that 
 we may, by faith through him, attain to a kind of 
 a presence, at least of the beauty and sweetness of 
 them. 
 
 LVIII. Of the doors of the inner Temple. 
 
 1. Besides the veil, there was a door to the inner 
 temple, and that door was made of olive-tree; 
 ‘ and for the entering of the oracle, he made doors 
 of olive-tree. The two doors also of olive-tree, 
 and he carved upon them - cherubims, and palm 
 trees, and open flowers, and overlaid them with 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 499 
 
 gold, and spread gold upon the cherubiras, and 
 upon the palm trees.’ iKi.vi.3i, 
 
 2. These doors were a type of the gate of heaven, 
 even of that which lets into the eternal man¬ 
 sion-house that is beyond that veil. I told you 
 before that the veil was a type of the visible 
 heavens, which God has spread out as a curtain, 
 and through which Christ went when he ascended 
 to the right hand of the Father. 
 
 3. Now, beyond this veil, as I said, I find a 
 door, a gate opening with two leaves, as afore we 
 found at the door of the outward temple. These 
 are they which the Psalmist calls to, when he 
 saith, * Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates, even lift 
 them up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of 
 glory shall come in.’ Ps.xxiv.7,9. 
 
 4. The doors of the temple were made of fir, but 
 these, as you see, were made of olive: to show us 
 by that fat tree, that rich type, with what glory 
 we shall he met, who shall be counted worthy to 
 enter at these gates. The olive tree has its name 
 from the oil and fatness of its nature, and the 
 doors that let into the holiest were made of this 
 olive tree. 1 Ro. xi. 16—18. 
 
 5. Cherubims were also carved upon these doors 
 to show, that as the angels met us at the temple 
 door, and as they wait upon us in the temple, and 
 stand also ready at the veil, so even at the gate of 
 the mansion-house, they will be also ready to give 
 us a welcome thither, and to attend us into the 
 presence chamber. 
 
 6 . Palm trees also, as they were carved upon 
 the temple doors, so we also find them here before 
 the oracle, upon the doors that let in thither; to 
 show, that as Christ gave us the victory at our first 
 entering into faith, so he will finish that victory, 
 by giving of us eternal salvation. Thus is he the 
 author and finisher of our faith. For as sure as at 
 first we received the palm branch by faith, so surely 
 shall we wear it in our hands, as a token of his faith¬ 
 fulness in the heaven of heavens, for ever. Re. vii. 9. 
 
 7. Open flowers are also carved here, to show 
 that Christ, who is the door to glory, as well as 
 the door to grace, will be precious to us at our 
 entering in thither, as well as at the first step we 
 took thitherward in a sinful and miserable world. 
 Christ will never lose his sweet scent in the nostrils 
 of his church. He is most sweet now, will he so 
 at death, and sweetest of all, when by him we shall 
 enter into that mansion-house prepared for us in 
 heaven. 
 
 1 The olive wood is used, with ivory and mother of pearl, 
 in ornamenting the most sumptuous apartments in oriental 
 pdaces. It is exceedingly durable and elegant. ‘The choosing 
 olive out of every other kind of wood, for the adorning these 
 sumptuous apartments, shows the elegance and grandeur of 
 the taste in which Solomon’s temple was built, where the doors 
 of the oracle, and some other parts, were of olive wood.’— 
 (Harmer, Schenzer, Lady M. \V. Montague.)—(Ei>.) 
 
 8. The palm trees and open flowers may also be 
 a type of the precious ones of God, who shall be 
 counted worthy of his kingdom; the one, of the 
 uprightness of their hearts; the other, of the good 
 favour of their lives. ‘ The upright shall dwell in 
 thy presence; aud to him that ordereth his con¬ 
 versation aright, I will show the salvation of God.’ 
 
 Pa. cxl. 13. 
 
 9. Thus sweet on earth, sweet in heaven; and 
 he that yields the fruit of the gospel here, shall 
 find it for himself, and his eternal comfort, at the 
 gates of glory. 
 
 10. All these were overlaid with gold, as you 
 may say, and so they were at the door of the first 
 house. True, but observe here we have an addi¬ 
 tion. Here is gold upon gold. Gold laid on them, 
 and then gold spread upon that. He overlaid them 
 with gold, and then spread gold upon them. The 
 Lord gives grace and glory. Ps. lrxxiv. n. Gold and 
 gold. Gold spread upon gold. Grace is gold in 
 the leaf, and glory is gold in plates. Grace is thin 
 gold, glory is gold that is thick. Here is gold 
 laid on, and gold spread upon that: and that both 
 upon the palm trees and the cherubims. Gold 
 upon the palm trees, that is, on the saints; gold 
 upon the cherubims, that is, upon the angels. For 
 1 doubt not but that the angels themselves shall 
 receive additional glory for the service which they 
 have served Christ and his church on earth. 
 
 11. The angels are God’s harvest men, and 
 doubtless he will give them good wages, even glory 
 upon their glory then. Mat. xiii. 38, 39; xxiv. 31. Jn. iv. 36. 
 
 12. You know harvest men use to be paid well 
 for gathering in the corn, and I doubt not but so 
 shall these, when the great ingathering is over. 
 But what an entrance into life is here? Here is 
 gold upon gold at the door, at our first step into 
 the kingdom. 
 
 LIX. Of the golden nails of the inner Temple. 
 
 1 shall not concern myself with all the nails of 
 the temple, as of those made of iron, &c. l Ch xxii.3. 
 But only with the golden ones, of which you read, 
 where he saith, ‘ And the weight of the nails was 
 fifty shekels of gold.’ 2 Ch.iii. 9. These nails, as 1 
 conceive, Avere all fastened to the place most holy, 
 and of form most apt to that of which they Avere a 
 figure. 
 
 1. Some of them represented Christ Jesus our 
 Lord as fixed in his mediatory office in the heavens; 
 Avherefore in one place, Avhen the Holy Ghost speaks 
 of Christ, as he sprang from Judah to be a media¬ 
 tor, saith, * Out of him came the corner,’ the corner 
 stone, ‘out of him the nail.’ Zee. x.4. Now, since 
 he is compared to a nail, a golden nail, it is to 
 sIioav, that as a nail, by driving, is fixed in his 
 place; so Christ, by God’s oath, is made an ever¬ 
 lasting priest, lie. vii. 25. Therefore, as he saith 
 
500 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 again, the nail, the Aaronical priesthood, that was 
 fastened in a sure place, should he removed, be cut 
 down, and fall; so he who has the key of David, 
 which is Christ, Re. iii. 7 , shall by God, as a nail, be 
 fastened in a sure place, and abide; therefore he 
 says again, ‘And he shall be for a glorious throne,’ 
 or mercy-seat, ‘ to his Father’s house.’ And more¬ 
 over, That ‘they shall hang upon him,’ as on a 
 nail, ‘ all the glory of his Father’s house, the off¬ 
 spring, and the issue, all vessels of small quantity, 
 from the vessels of cups, even to all the vessels of 
 flagons.’ is.xxii. 20 —25. According to that which is 
 written, ‘ And they sang a new song ’ to the Lamb 
 that was slain, ‘saying, Thou art worthy,’ &c. 
 Re. v. 9-12. 
 
 And therefore it is again that Christ, under the 
 similitude of a nail, is accounted by saints indeed 
 their great pledge or hope, as he is in heaven, of 
 their certain coming thither. Hence they said of 
 old, God has given us ‘ a nail in his holy place;’ a 
 nail, says the line, ‘a pin, aconstant and sure abode,’ 
 says the margin. Ezr. ix. 8. Now, this nail in his 
 holy place, as was showed before, is Christ; Christ, 
 as possessed of heaven, and as abiding, and ever 
 living therein for us. Hence he is called, as there, 
 our head, our life, and our salvation; and also we 
 are said there to be set down together in him. 
 
 Ep. i. Col. iii. 3. Ep. ii. 5, 6. 
 
 2. Some of these nails were types of the holy 
 words of God, which for ever are settled in heaven. 
 Types, I say, of their ‘ yea and amen.’ Hence 
 Solomon, in another place, compares the words of 
 the wise God, ‘ to goads and nails, fastened by the 
 masters of assemblies, which are given from one 
 shepherd. ’ Ec. xii. n. 
 
 They are called goads, because, as such prick 
 the oxen on in their drawing, so God’s words prick 
 Christians on in their holy duties. They are called 
 nails, to show, that as nails, when fastened well 
 in a sure place, are not easily removed; so God’s 
 words, by his will, stand firm for ever. The masters 
 of the assemblies are first, the apostles. The one 
 shepherd is Jesus Christ. Hence the gospel of 
 Christ is said to be everlasting, to abide for ever, 
 and to be more stedfast than heaven and earth. 
 
 Is. xl. 6—8. 1 Pe. i. 24, 25. He. xiii. 20. Re. xiv. 6. Mat. xxiv. 35. 
 
 The Lord Jesus then, and his holy words, are the 
 golden nails of the temple, and the fixing of these 
 nails in the temple, was to show that Christ is the 
 same to-day, yesterday, and for ever; and that his 
 words abide, and remain the same for ever and 
 ever. He then that hath Christ, has a nail in the 
 holiest; he that hath a promise of salvation hath 
 also a nail in heaven, a golden nail in heaven! 
 
 LX. Of the floor and walls of the inner Temple. 
 
 1. The floor of the oracle was overlaid with 
 cedar, and so also were the walls of this house. 
 
 ‘ He built twenty cubits on the sides of the house, 
 both the floor and the walls with boards of cedar. 
 He even built for it within, for the oracle, for the 
 most holy place. ’ l Ki. vi. is. 
 
 2. In that he doth tell us with what it was ceiled, 
 and doth also thus repeat, saying, ‘ for the oracle, 
 for it within, even for the most holy place,’ it is 
 because he would have it noted, that this only is 
 the place that thus was done. 
 
 3. Twenty cubits, that was the length, and 
 breadth, and height of the house; so that by his 
 thus saying he teacheth that thus it was built 
 round about. 
 
 4. The cedar is, if I mistake not, the highest of 
 the trees. Eze. xxxi. 3-8. Now in that it is said the 
 house, the oracle, was ceiled round about there¬ 
 with, it may be to show, that in heaven, and no 
 where else, is the height of all perfections. Per¬ 
 fection is in the church on earth, but not such as 
 is in heaven. 
 
 (1.) There is a natural perfection, and so a penny 
 is as natural silver as is a shilling. (2.) There is 
 a comparative perfection, and so one thing may be 
 perfect and imperfect at the same time; as a half- 
 crown is more than a shilling, yet less than a 
 crown. (3.) There is also that which we call the 
 utmost perfection, and that is it which cannot be 
 added to, or taken from him; and so God only is 
 perfect. Now, heavenly glory is that which goes 
 beyond all perfection on the earth, as the cedar 
 goes beyond all trees for height. Hence God, 
 when he speaks of his own excellency, sets it forth 
 by its height. The high God, the most High, and 
 the high and lofty One; and the Highest. Ps.xcvii.9; 
 cxxxviii. 6. Ge. xiv. 19—21. I)a. iii. 26; v. 18. Ps. xviii. 13; lxxxvii. 5. 
 Lu.i. 32; vi. 35. Is. lvii. 15. Ps. ix. 2; lvi. 2; xcii.l. Is.xiv. 14. These 
 terms also are ascribed to this house, for that it 
 was the place w r here utmost perfection dwelt. 
 
 I take, therefore, the cedar in this place to be 
 a note of perfection, even the cedar with which 
 this house was ceiled. For since it is the wisdom 
 of God to speak to us ofttimes by trees, gold, 
 silver, stones, beasts, fowls, fishes, spiders, ants, 
 frogs, flies, lice, dust, &c., and here by wood; 
 how should we by them understand his voice, if 
 we count there is no meaning in them ? ‘ And 
 
 the cedar of the house within was carved with 
 knops and open flowers; all was cedar; there was 
 no stone seen.’ l Ki. vi. 18. 
 
 Knops and flowers were they with which the 
 golden candlestick was adorned, as you read, Ex. 
 xxv. 33 , 35; xxxvii. io, 21 . The candlestick was a type 
 of the church, and the knops and flowers a type of 
 her ornaments. But what! must heaven be hanged 
 round about with the ornaments of saints! with 
 the fruits of their graces! Well, it is certain that 
 something more than ordinary must be done with 
 them, since they are admitted to follow them into 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 601 
 
 the holy place, Re. xiv. 13 ; and since, it is said, they 
 shall have a far more exceeding and eternal weight 
 of glory bestowed on them, for them in the heavens.’ 
 
 2 Co. iv. 16, 17. 
 
 ‘All was cedar; there was no stone seen.’ Take 
 stone in the type for that which was really so, and 
 in the antitype for that which is so mystically, anc 
 then it may import to us, that in heaven, the anti- 
 type of this holiest, there shall never be anything 
 of hardness of heart in them that possess it for 
 ever. All imperfection ariseth from the badness 
 of the heart, but there will be no bad hearts in 
 glory. No shortness in knowledge, no crossness 
 of disposition, no workings of lusts, or corruptions 
 will be there; no, not throughout the whole hea- 
 "v ens. Here, alas! they are seen, and that in the 
 best of saints, because here our light is mixed with 
 darkness; but there will be no night there, nor 
 any stone seen. 
 
 ‘ And the floor of the house was overlaid with 
 gold.’ 1 Ki. vi. 30 . This is like that of which we read 
 of the New Jerusalem that is to come from God 
 out of heaven; says the text, ‘ The street of the 
 city was pure gold;’ and like that of which you 
 read in Exodus, ‘ They saw the God of Israel, and 
 under his feet as it were a paved work of a sapphire 
 stone, and as it were the body of heaven in his 
 clearness. Re. xxi. 21 . Ex. xxiv. 10 . All the visions were 
 rich, but this the richest, that the floor of the 
 house should be covered or overlaid with gold. 
 The floor and street are walking-places, and how 
 rich will our steps be then! Alas! here we some¬ 
 times fall into the mire, and then again stumble 
 upon blocks and stones. Here we sometimes fall 
 into holes, and have our heel oft catched in a snare; 
 but there will be none of these. Gold ! gold! all 
 will be gold, and golden perfections, when we come 
 into the holy place! Job at best took but his steps 
 in butter, but we then shall take all our steps in 
 the gold of the sanctuary. 
 
 LXI. Of the ark of the covenant which was placed 
 in the inner Temple. 
 
 In the Word I read of three arks; to wit, Noah’s 
 aik, that in which Moses was hid, and the ark ef 
 the covenant of God. Ge. vi. 14 . Ex. ii. 3 , 5 . But it is 
 the ark of the covenant of which I shall now speak. 
 The ark was made * of shittim-wood, two cubits 
 and a half was the length thereof, and a cubit and 
 a halt the breadth thereof, and a cubit and a half 
 the height thereof.’ It was overlaid ‘ with pure 
 gold within and without,’ and ‘ a crown of gold ’ 
 uas made for it ‘ round about.’ Ex. xxv. 10 , 11 . 
 
 1. I his ark was called ‘ the ark of the covenant, ’ 
 as the first that you read of was called ‘ Noah’s,’ 
 because as he in that was kept from being drowned, 
 so the tables of the covenant were kept in this 
 from breaking. 
 
 2. This ark, in this, was a type of Christ; for 
 that in him only, and not in the hand of Moses, 
 these tables were kept whole. Moses brake them, 
 the ark keeps them. 
 
 3. Not only that wrote on two tables of stone, 
 but that also called * the ceremonial,’ was put into 
 the ark to be kept. The two tables were put into 
 the midst of the ark, to answer to this—thy law is 
 within my heart to do it. But the ceremonial was 
 put into the side of the ark, to show that out of 
 the side of Christ must come that which must an¬ 
 swer that, for out thence came blood and water; 
 blood, to answer the blood of the ceremonies; 
 and water, to answer the purifyings and rinsings 
 of that law. The ceremonies, therefore, were 
 lodged in the side of the ark, to show that they 
 should be answered out of the side of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Ex. xxv. 16, 17. De. x. 5. Ps. xl. 8. Jn. xix. 34. He. x. 7. 
 
 4. The ark had the name of God put upon it; 
 yea, it was called the strength of God, and his 
 glory, though made of wood. And Christ is God 
 both in name and nature, though made flesh; yea 
 more, made to be sin for us. 2 Sa. vL 2 . 1 ch. xiii. 6. 
 
 2 Ch. vi. 1. Jn. i. 14. Ro. ix. 5. 2 Co. v. 21. 
 
 5. The ark was carried upon men’s shoulders 
 this way and that, to show how Christ should be 
 carried and preached by his apostles and ministers 
 into all parts of the world. Ex. xxv. 14 . 1 Ch. xv. 15 . Mat. 
 xxviii. 19, 20. Lu. xxiv. 46, 47. 
 
 6 . The ark had those testimonies of God’s pre¬ 
 sence accompanying it, as had no other ceremony 
 of the law; and Christ had those signs and tokens 
 of his presence with him, as never had man either 
 in law or gospel. This is so apparent it needs no 
 proof. And now for a few comparisons more. 
 
 (1.) It was at that that God answered the people, 
 when they were wont to come to inquire of him; 
 and in these last days God has spoken to us by 
 his Son. 1 Ch. xiii. 3. 1 Sa. xiv. 18. He. i. 2. Jn. xvi. 23, 24. 
 
 (2.) At the presence of the ark the waters of 
 Jordan stood still till Israel, the ransomed of the 
 Lord, passed over from the wilderness to Canaan; 
 and it is by the power and presence of Christ that 
 we pass over death, Jordan’s antitype, from the 
 wilderness of this world to heaven. Jos. iii. 15 — 17 . Jn. 
 xi. 25. Ro. viii. 37—39. 1 Co. xv. 54—57. 
 
 (3.) Before the ark the walls of Jericho fell 
 down; and at the presence of Christ shall all high 
 towers, and strongholds, and hiding places for 
 sinners be razed, and dissolved at his coming. 
 Jos. vi. 20. Is. xxx. 25; ii. 10,16. 2 Pe. iii. 10. Re. xx. 11—13. 
 
 (4.) Before the ark Dagon fell, that idol of the 
 Philistines; and before Christ Jesus devils fell, 
 those gods of all those idols. And he must reign 
 till all his enemies be put under his feet, and until 
 they be made his footstool. 1 Sa. v. 1 — 4 . Mar. v. 12 . 1 Co. 
 xv. 25. He. x. 13. 
 
 (5.) The Philistines were also plagued for medd- 
 
502 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 ling with the ark, while they abode uncircumcised; I thither; now in the hands of enemies, and then 
 and the wicked will one day be most severely abused by friends; yea, it was caused to rove from 
 plagued for their meddling with Christ, with their place to place, as that of which the world was 
 
 uncircumcised hearts, l Sa. v. 6—13. Ps. l. 6. Mat. xxiv. 51; 
 xxv. 11,12. Lu. xiii. 25—29. 
 
 weary. I need instance to you for proof hereof 
 none other place than the fifth, sixth, and seventh 
 
 (6.) God’s blessing was upon those that enter- chapters of the first Book of Samuel; and, answer 
 tained the ark as they should; and much more is, able to this, was our dear Lord Jesus posted back- 
 and will his blessing be upon those that so embrace wards and forwards, hither and thither, by the 
 and entertain his Christ, and profess his name sin- force of the rage of his enemies. He was hunted 
 cerely. 2 Sa. vi. 11. Ac. m. 26. Ga. iii. 13,14. Mat. xix. 27—29. Lu. into Egypt so soon as he was born. Mat. ii. Then 
 xxii. 28,29. he was driven to live in Galilee the space of many 
 
 (7.) When Uzzali put forth his hand to stay the years. Also, when he showed himself to Israel, 
 ark, when the oxen shook it, as despairing of God’s they drove him sometimes into the wilderness, 
 protecting of it without a human help, he died be- sometimes into the desert, sometimes into the sea, 
 fore the Lord; even so will all those do, without and sometimes into the mountains, and still in every 
 repentance, who use unlawful means to promote of these places he was either haunted or hunted by 
 
 Christ’s religion, and to support it in the world. | new enemies. 
 
 And at last of all, the Pharisees plot for his life; 
 
 (8.) The ark, though thus dignified, was of it- I Judas sells him, the priests buy him, Peter denies 
 self but low—but a cubit and a half high; also him, his enemies mock, scourge, buffet, and much 
 Christ—though he was the glory of heaven and of abuse him. In fine, they get him condemned, and 
 God—yet made himself of no reputation, and was crucified, and buried; but at last God commanded, 
 found in the likeness of a man. Ex. xxv. 10—12. Phi. j and took him to his place, even within the veil, and 
 
 sets him to bear up the mercy-seat, where he is to 
 
 ii. 6—11. 
 
 (9.) The ark had a crown of gold round about this very day, being our ark to save us, as Noah’s 
 upon it, to show how Christ is crowned by his did him, as Moses’ did him; yea, better, as none 
 saints by faith, and shall be crowned by them in but Christ doth save his own. 
 glory, for all the good lie hath done for them; as 
 
 nien imw nil pvmvn 9 shall nnp. rln.v St,non to him. EAll. uj the placing OJ tne am m me nouesi, or 
 
 also how all crowns shall one day stoop to him, 
 and be set upon his head. This is showed in the 
 
 inner Temple. 
 
 type. Zee.vi. ii, 14. And in the antitype. Re.iv.10; xix.12. 1. The ark, as we have said, and as the text 
 
 (10.) The ark was overlaid with gold within and declares, when carried to its rest, was placed in 
 without, to show that Christ was perfect in inward the inner temple, or in the most holy place, ‘ even 
 grace and outward life, in spirit and in righteous- under the wings of the cherubims.’ * And the priests 
 ness. Jn. i. 14. l Pe. ii. 22. brought in the ark of the covenant of the Lord unto 
 
 (11.) The ark was placed under the mercy-seat, his place, to the oracle of the house, into the most 
 to show that Jesus Christ, as Redeemer, brings holy place, even under the wings of the cherubims.’ 
 and bears, as it were, upon his shoulders, the Ex. xxvi. 33; xxxix. 35. l Ki. viii. 3. 2 Ch. v. 7. 
 mercy of God to us, even in the body of his flesh, 2. Before this, as was said afore, the ark was 
 through death. Ex. xxv. 21. Ep. iv. 22; v. l, 2. carried from place to place, and caused to dwell 
 
 (12.) When the ark was removed far from the in a tent under curtains, as all our fathers did; to 
 people, the godly went mourning after it; and 
 when Christ is hid, or taken from us, then we 
 mourn in those days. 2 Sa. vii. 2. Mar. ii. 19, 20. Lu. v. 34, 35 
 Jn. xvi. 20—22. 
 
 (13.) All Israel had the ark again, after their 
 mourning-time was over; 
 
 show that Christ, as we, was made for a time to 
 wander in the world, in order to his being pos¬ 
 sessed of glory. 2 Sa. vii. 1, 3, 6. He. xi. 9. Jn. i. 10; xvi. 
 28; iii. 13. 
 
 3. But now, when the ark was brought into the 
 and Christ, after his I holiest, it is said to be brought into its place, 
 people have sorrowed for him a while, will see This world then was not Christ’s place, he was 
 them again, * and their hearts shall rejoice.’ Jn. not from beneath, he came from his Father’s 
 xvi. 1—3, 20—22. house; wherefore while here, he was not at his 
 
 By all these things, and many more that might place, nor could until he ascended up where he 
 be mentioned, it is most evident that the ark of was before. Jn. viii. 23; xvi. 28; vi. 62; iii. 13. 
 the testimony was a type of Jesus Christ; and 4. Christ’s proper place, therefore, is the holiest, 
 take notice a little of that which follows, namely, His proper place, as God, as Priest, as Prophet, 
 that the ark at last arrived to the place most holy, as King, and as the Advocate of his people. Here. 
 He. ix. 3, 4 . That is, after its wanderings; for the with us, he has no more to do, in person, as me- 
 ark was first made to wander, like a non-inhabi- diator. If he were on earth, he should not be a 
 taut, from place to place; now hither, and then [priest, <fcc. His place and work is now above 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 503 
 
 * 
 
 with his Father, and before the angels. Ac.v.3i. lPe. 
 iii. 22. He. iv. 14; viii. 4; ix. 24. 1 Jn. ii. 1, 2. Re. i. 4, 5. 
 
 5. It is said the ark was brought ‘to the oracle 
 of the house,’ Solomon was not content to say it 
 was brought into the holiest; but he saith, his 
 place was the oracle, the holy oracle, that is, the 
 place of hearing. For he, when he ascended, had 
 somewhat to say to God on the behalf of his 
 people. To the oracle, that is, to the place of 
 revealing. For he also was there to receive, and 
 from thence to reveal to his church on earth, 
 something that could not be made manifest but 
 from this holy oracle. There therefore he is with 
 the two tables of testimony in his heart, as per¬ 
 fectly kept; he also is there with the whole ful¬ 
 filling of the ceremonial law in his side, showing 
 and pleading the perfection of his righteousness, 
 and the merit of his blood with his Father, and to 
 receive and to do us good, who believe in him, 
 how well pleased the Father is with what he has 
 done in our behalf. 
 
 6. ‘Into the most holy place.’ By these words 
 is showed, whither also the ark went, when it 
 went to take up its rest. And in that this ark 
 was a type of Christ in this, it is to show or 
 further manifest, that what Christ doth now in 
 heaven, he doth it before his Father’s face. Yea, 
 it intimates, that Christ even there makes his 
 appeals to God, concerning the worth of what he 
 did on earth; to God the Judge of all, I say, 
 whether he ought not for his suffering-sake to 
 have granted to him his whole desire, as Priest 
 and Advocate for his people? 
 
 Wilt thou,’ said Festus to Paul, ‘go up to 
 Jerusalem, and there be judged of these things 
 before me ? ’ Ac. xxv. 9. Why, this our blessed 
 Jesus was willing, when here, to go up to Jeru¬ 
 salem to be judged; and being misjudged of there, 
 he made his appeal to God, and is now gone 
 thither, even into the holy place, even to him that 
 is Judge of all, for his verdict upon his doing; 
 and whether the souls for whom he became un¬ 
 dertaker, to bring them to glory, have not by him 
 a right to the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 7. ‘Under the wings of the cherubims.’ This 
 doth further confirm our words ; for having ap¬ 
 pealed from earth to heaven, as the ark was set 
 under the wings of the cherubims, so he, in his 
 interceding with God and pleading his merits for 
 us, doth it in the presence and hearing of all the 
 angels in heaven. 
 
 And thus much of the ark of the covenant, and 
 of its antitype. We come next to speak of the 
 mercy-seat. 
 
 LXIII. Of the mercy-seat, and how it was placed 
 in the holy Temple. 
 
 I he mercy-seat was made in the wilderness, but 
 
 brought up by Solomon, after the temple was built, 
 with the rest of the holy things. 2Ch.v. 2 — 10 . 
 
 The mercy-seat, as I have showed of the ark, 
 was but low. ‘ Two cubits and a half was the 
 length, and a cubit and a half the breadth there¬ 
 of;’ but the height thereof ‘was without measure.’ 
 
 1. The length and breadth of the mercy-seat is 
 the same with that of the ark: perhaps to show 
 us, that the length and breadth of the mercy of 
 God to his elect, is the same with the length and 
 breadth of the merits of Christ. Ex. xxv. 10, 17 . There¬ 
 fore, we are said to be justified in him, blessed in 
 him, even according to the purpose which God 
 purposed in him. 
 
 2. But in that the mercy-seat is without mea¬ 
 sure, as to height, it is to show, that would God 
 extend it, it is able to reach even them that fall 
 from heaven, and to save all that ever lived on 
 earth, even all that are now in hell. For there is 
 not only breadth enough for them that shall be 
 saved, but ‘ bread enough and to spare. ’ Lu. xy. 17 . 
 ‘And thou shalt,’ says God, ‘put the mercy-seat 
 above upon the ark.’ Thus he said to Moses, and 
 this was the place which David assigned for it. 
 Ex. xxv. 21 . 1 Ch. xxviii. ii. Now, its being by God’s 
 ordinance placed thus, doth teach us many things. 
 
 (1.) That mercy’s foundation to us is Christ. 
 The mercy-seat was set upon the ark of the testi¬ 
 mony, and there it rested to us ward. Justice 
 would not, could not have suffered us to have had 
 any benefit by mercy, had it not found an ark, a 
 Christ to rest upon. ‘ Deliver him,’ saith God, 
 
 ‘ from going down to the pit, I have found a ran¬ 
 som. ’ Job. xxxiii. 24. 
 
 (2.) In that it was placed above, it doth show 
 also that Christ was, of mercies, ordaining a fruit 
 of mercy. Mercy is above, is the ordainer; God 
 is love, and sent of love his Son to be the Saviour 
 and propitiation for our sins. Jn. iii. 16. l Jn. iv. 10 . 
 
 (3.) I 11 that the mercy-seat and ark were thus 
 joined together, it also shows, that without Christ 
 mercy doth not act. Hence, when the priest came 
 of old to God for mercy, he did use to come into 
 the holy place with blood; yea, and did use to 
 sprinkle it upon the mercy-seat, and before it, 
 seven times. Take away the ark, and the mercy- 
 seat will fall, or come greatly down at least. So 
 take away Christ, and the flood-gate of mercy is 
 et down, and the current of mercy stopped. This 
 is true, for so soon as Christ shall leave off to 
 mediate, will come the eternal judgment. 
 
 (4.) Again, in that the mercy-seat was set above 
 upon the ark, it teacheth us to know, that mercy 
 can look down from heaven, though the law stand 
 )y and looks on; but then it must be in Christ, as 
 xept there, and fulfilled by him for us. The law 
 out of Christ is terrible as a lion; the law in him 
 is meek as a lamb. The reason is, for that it 
 
504 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 i 
 
 finds in him enough to answer for all their faults, 
 that come to God for mercy hy him. * Christ is 
 the end of the law for righteousnessand if that 
 be true, the law for that can look no further upon 
 whoever comes to God by him. The law did use 
 to sentence terribly, until it was put into the ark 
 to be kept. 1 But after it was said, ‘ It is there to 
 be kept,’we read not of it as afore, l Ki. viii. 9. 2Ch. 
 v. 10. Ro. x. 4. 
 
 (5.) Let them then that come to God for mercy 
 be sure to come to him by the ark, Christ. For 
 grace, as it descends to us from above the mercy- 
 seat, so that mercy-seat doth rest upon the ark. 
 Wherefore, sinner, come thou for mercy that way: 
 for there if thou meetest with the law, it can do 
 thee no harm; nor can mercy, shouldst thou else¬ 
 where meet it, do thee good. Come, therefore, 
 and come boldly to the throne of grace, this mercy- 
 seat, thus borne up by the ark, and ‘ obtain mercy, 
 and find grace to help in time of need. ’ He. iv. 16. 
 
 Wherefore the thus placing of things in the 
 holiest, is admirable to behold in the word of God. 
 For that indeed is the glass by and through which 
 we must behold this glory of the Lord. Here we 
 see the reason of things; here we see how a just 
 God can have to do, and that in a way of mercy, 
 with one that has sinned against him. It is be¬ 
 cause the law has been kept by the Lord Jesus 
 Christ; for as you see, the mercy-seat stands upon 
 the ark of the covenant, and there God acts in a 
 way of grace towards us. Ex. xxv. 17—23. 
 
 LXIV. Of the living waters of the inner Temple. 
 
 Although in the holy relation of the building of 
 the temple no mention is made of these waters, 
 but only of the mount on which, and the materials 
 with which the king did build it, yet it seems to 
 me that in that mount, and there too where the 
 temple was built, there was a spring of living 
 water. This seems more than probable, by Eze. 
 xlvii. 1, where he saith, ‘He brought me again 
 unto the door of the house, and behold, waters 
 issued out from under the threshold of the house 
 eastward, for the fore-front of the house stood to¬ 
 ward the east, and the waters came down from 
 under, from the right side of the house, at the 
 south side of the altar.’ So again, ‘And a foun¬ 
 tain shall come forth of the house of the Lord, 
 and shall water the valley of Shittim. ’ Joel m. is. 
 Nor was the spring, wherever was the first appear¬ 
 ance of these holy waters, but in the sanctuary, 
 which is the holiest of all, Eze. xlvii. 12 , where the 
 mercy-seat stood, which in Revelations is called 
 ‘The throne of God, and of the Lamb.’ Re. xxii. 1 , 2 . 
 
 1 As the mercy-seat covered the law deposited iu the ark, 
 eo Christ covers the transgressions of his people; while Christ 
 sits upon the mercy-seat, the law cannot rise up in judgment 
 against them.—(Jennings.) 
 
 This also is that which the prophet Zechariah 
 means, when he says, ‘Living waters shall go out 
 from Jerusalem, half of them toward the former 
 sea, and half of them toward the hinder sea,’ &c. 
 Zee. xiv. 8. They are said to go forth from Jeru- 
 salem, because they came down to the city from 
 out of the sanctuary which stood in Jerusalem. 
 This is that which in another place is called a 
 river of water of life, because it comes forth from 
 the throne, and because it was at the head of it, 
 as I suppose, used in and about temple-worship. 
 
 It was with this, I think, that the molten sea and 
 the ten lavers were filled, and in which the priests 
 washed their hands and feet when they went into 
 the temple to do service; and that also in which 
 they washed the sacrifices before they offered them 
 to God; yea, I presume, all the washings and 
 rinsings about their worship was with this water. 
 
 This water is said in Ezekiel and Revelations 
 to have the tree of life grow on the banks of it, 
 and was a type of the word and Spirit of God, by 
 which, both Christ himself sanctified himself, in 
 order to his worship as high-priest. Eze. xlvii. Re. xxii. 
 And also this water is that which heals all those 
 that shall be saved; and by which, they being 
 sanctified thereby also, do all their works of wor¬ 
 ship and service acceptably, through Jesus Christ 
 our Lord. This water therefore is said to go forth 
 into the sea, the world, and to heal its fish, the / 
 sinners therein; yea, this is that water of which 
 Christ Jesus our Lord saith, Whosoever shall 
 drink thereof shall live for ever. Eze. xlvii. 8 - 10 . Zee. 
 xiv. 8. Jn. iv. 14. 
 
 LXY. Of the chains ivliich were in the oracle or 
 inner Temple . 
 
 As there were chains on the pillars that stood 
 before the porch of the temple, and in the first 
 house; so, like unto them, there were chains in 
 the holiest, here called the oracle. These chains 
 were not chains in show, or as carved on wood, &c., 
 but chains indeed, and that of gold; and they were 
 prepared to make a partition ‘ before the oracle * 
 within. 1 Ki. vi. 21. 2 Ch. iii. 16 . 
 
 I told you before that the holiest was called the 
 oracle, not because in a strict sense the whole of 
 it was so, but because such answer of God was 
 there, as was not in the outward temple; but I 
 think that the ark and mercy-seat were indeed 
 more especially that called the oracle; ‘for there 
 I will meet with thee,’ saith God, and from above 
 that ‘I will commune with thee.’ Ex. xxv. 22 . When 
 David said, ‘I lift up my hands toward thy holy 
 oracle,’ he meant not so much towards the holiest 
 house, as toward the mercy-seat that was therein. 
 Or, as he saith in the margin, ‘ Toward the oracle 
 of thy sanctuary.’ Ps.xxviii. 2 . 
 
 When therefore he saith, ‘before the oracle,’ he 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 505 
 
 means, these chains wore put in the most holy 
 place, before the ark and mercy-seat, to give to 
 Aaron and his sons to understand that an addi¬ 
 tional glory was there. For the ark and mercy- 
 seat were preferred before that holy house itself, 
 even as Christ and the grace of God is preferred 
 before the highest heavens. * The Lord is high 
 above all nations, and his glory above the heavens.’ 
 
 f s. cxiii. 4. 
 
 So then, the partition that was made in this 
 house by these chains, these golden chains, was 
 not so much to divide the holy from the place most 
 holy, as to show that there is in the holiest house 
 that which is yet more worthy than it. 
 
 The holiest was a type of heaven, but the ark 
 and mercy-seat were a type of Christ, and of the 
 mercy of God to us by him; and I trow any man 
 will conclude, if he knows what he says, that the 
 God and Christ of heaven are more excellent than 
 the house they dwell in. Hence David said again, 
 ‘Whom have I in heaven but thee? 1 For thou art 
 more excellent than they. Ps. ixxiii. 25 . For though 
 that which is called heaven would serve some; yea, 
 though God himself was out of it, yet none but the 
 God of heaven will satisfy a truly gracious man: it 
 is God that the soul of this man thirsteth for; it is 
 God that is his exceeding joy. Ps.xlii. 2 ; ixiii.1; cxiiii. 6 ; 
 xvii. 15; xliii.4. 
 
 These chains then, as they made this partition 
 in the most holy place, may teach us, that when 
 we shall be glorified in heaven, we shall yet, even 
 then, and there, know that there will continue an 
 infinite disproportion between God and us. The 
 golden chains that are there will then distinguish 
 [or separate] the Creator from the creature. For 
 we, even we which shall be saved, shall yet retain 
 our own nature, and shall still continue finite 
 beings; yea, and shall there also see a dispropor¬ 
 tion between our Lord, our head, and us; for though 
 now we are, and also then shall be like him as to 
 his manhood; yea, and shall be like him also, as 
 being glorified with his glory; yet he shall tran¬ 
 scend and go beyond us, as to degree and splendour, 
 as far as ever the highest king on earth did shine 
 above the meanest subject that dwelt in his 
 kingdom 
 
 Chains have of old been made use of as notes of 
 distinction, to show us who are bond men, and who 
 free. Yea, they shall at the day of judgment be a 
 note of distinction of bad and good; even as here 
 they will distinguish the heavens from God, and the 
 creature from the Creator. 2Pe.ii.4. Jude 6. Mat. xxii. 13. 
 
 True, they are chains of sin and wrath, but these 
 chains of gold; yet these chains, even these also 
 will keep creatures in their place, that the Creator 
 may have his glory, and receive those acknow¬ 
 ledgments there from them, which is due unto his 
 Majesty. Re. iv. ; v. 11 — 14 . 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 LXVI. Of the high-priest , and of his office in the 
 inner Temple. 
 
 When things were thus ordained in the house 
 * most holy, ’ then went the liigh-priest in thither, 
 according as he was appointed, to do his office, 
 which was to burn incense in his golden censer, 
 and to sprinkle with his finger the blood of his 
 sacrifice, for the people, upon and above the mercy- 
 
 seat. Ex. xxx. 7—10. Le. xvi. 11—14. 
 
 Now for this special work of his, he had pecu¬ 
 liar preparations. 1. He was to be washed in 
 water. 2. Then he was to put on his holy gar¬ 
 ments. 3. After that he was to be anointed with 
 holy oil. 4. Then an offering was to be offered for 
 him, for the further fitting of him for his office. 
 5. The blood of this sacrifice must be put, some 
 of it upon his right ear, some on the thumb of his 
 right hand, and some on the great toe of his right 
 foot. This done, some more of the blood, with the 
 anointing oil, must be sprinkled upon him, and 
 upon his garment; for after this manner must he 
 be consecrated to his work as higli-priest. Ex. xxix. 
 
 His being washed in water was to show the 
 purity of Christ’s humanity. His curious robes 
 were a type of all the perfections of Christ’s right¬ 
 eousness. The holy oil that was poured on his 
 head was to show how Christ was anointed with 
 the Holy Ghost unto his work, as priest. The 
 sacrifice of his consecration was a type of that 
 offering Christ offered in the garden when he mixed 
 his sweat with his own blood, and tears, and cries, 
 when he prayed to him that was able to save him; 
 ‘and was heard in that he feared;’ for with his 
 blood, as was Aaron with the blood of the bullock 
 that was slain for him, was this blessed one be¬ 
 smeared from head to foot, when his sweat, as 
 great drops or dodders of blood, fell down from 
 head and face, and whole body, to the ground. 
 
 Lu. xxii. 44. He. x. 20. 
 
 When Aaron was thus prepared, then he offered 
 his offering for the people, and carried the blood 
 within the veil. Le. xvi. The which Christ Jesus 
 also answered, when he offered his own body with¬ 
 out the gate, and then carried his blood into the 
 heavens, and sprinkled it before the mercy-seat. 
 He. xiiL ll, 12; ix. li, 12 ,24. For Aaron was a type of 
 Christ; his offering, a type of Christ’s offering his 
 body; the blood of the sacrifice, a type of the blood 
 of Christ; his garments, a type of Christ’s right¬ 
 eousness; the mercy-seat, a type of the throne of 
 grace; the incense, a type of Christ’s praise; and 
 the sprinkling of the blood of the sacrifice upon 
 the mercy-seat, a type of Christ’s pleading the 
 virtue of his sufferings for us in the presence of 
 God in heaven. He. ix. 10—28. 
 
 * Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the 
 heavenly calling, consider the apostle and high 
 
 64 
 
506 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 priest of our profession, Christ Jesus.’ He. m. l. 
 
 ‘ Seeing then that we have a great high priest, that 
 is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, 
 let us hold fast our profession. For we have not 
 an high priest which cannot he touched with the 
 feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points 
 tempted like a3 we are, yet without sin. Let us 
 therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, 
 that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help 
 in time of need. For every high priest taken from 
 among men is ordained for men in things pertain¬ 
 ing to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacri¬ 
 fices for sins: who can have compassion on the 
 ignorant, and on them that are out of the way; for 
 that he himself also is compassed with infirmity. 
 
 Ho. iv. 14—16 ; v. 1, 2. 
 
 This then is our high priest; and this was made 
 so ‘ not after the law of a carnal commandment, 
 but after the power of an endless life.’ For Aaron 
 and his sons were made priests without an oath, 
 
 ‘ but this with an oath by him that said unto him, 
 The Lord sware and will not repent, Thou art a 
 priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec. By 
 so much was Jesus made a surety of a better testa¬ 
 ment. ’ 
 
 ‘ And they truly were many priests, because 
 they were not suffered to continue by reason of 
 death. But this man, because he continueth ever, 
 hath an unchangeable priesthood. Wherefore he 
 is able also to save them to the uttermost that 
 come unto God by him, seeing he ever liveth to 
 make intercession for them. For such an high 
 priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, 
 separate from sinners, and made higher than the 
 heavens; who needeth not daily, as those high 
 priests, to offer up sacrifice, first for his own sins, 
 and then for the people’s: for this he did once, 
 when he offered up himself. For the law maketh 
 men high priests which have infirmity; but the 
 word of the oath, which was since the law, maketh 
 the Son, who is consecrated for evermore. Now 
 of the things which we have spoken this is the 
 sum: We have such an high priest, who is set on 
 the right hand of the throne of the majesty in the 
 heavens; a minister of the sanctuary, and of the 
 true tabernacle, 1 which the Lord pitched, and not 
 man. For every high priest is ordained to offer 
 gifts and sacrifices: wherefore it is of necessity 
 that this man have somewhat also to offer. For 
 if he were on earth, he should not be a priest, see¬ 
 ing that there are priests that offer gifts according 
 to the law: who serve unto the example and shadow 
 of heavenly things, as Moses was admonished of 
 God when he was about to make the tabernacle: 
 for. See, saith he, that thou make all things ac¬ 
 
 1 In Bunyan’s edition this is called the ‘ new tabernacle,’ 
 a typographical error which is corrected by restoring the true 
 reading.—(E d.) 
 
 cording to the pattern showed to thee in the 
 mount.’ He. vii. 16 to viii. 5. 
 
 ‘But Christ being come an high priest of good 
 things to come, by a greater and more perfect 
 tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, 
 not of this building; neither by the blood of goats 
 and calves, but by his own blood, he entered in 
 once into the holy place, having obtained eternal 
 redemption for us. For if the blood of bulls and 
 of goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling the 
 unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh: 
 how much more shall the blood of Christ, who 
 through the eternal Spirit offered himself without 
 spot to God, purge your conscience from dead 
 works to serve the living God. 
 
 ‘ For Christ is not entered into the holy places 
 made with hands, which are the figures of the true; 
 but into heaven itself, now to appear in the pre¬ 
 sence of God for us: Nor yet that he should offer 
 himself often, as the high priest entereth into the 
 holy place every year with blood of others; for 
 then must he often have suffered since the founda¬ 
 tion of the world: but now once in the end of the 
 world hath he appeared to put away sin by the 
 sacrifice of himself. And as it is appointed unto 
 men once to die, but after this the judgment: so 
 Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many; 
 and unto them that look for him shall he appear 
 the second time without sin unto salvation.* He. ix. 
 11-14, 24-28. 
 
 LXYII. Of the high-priest's going into the Holiest 
 
 alone. 
 
 As it was the privilege of the high-priest to go 
 into the holiest alone, so there was something of 
 mystery also, to which I shall speak a little: 
 
 ‘ There shall,’ says God, ‘ be no man in the taber¬ 
 nacle of the congregation, when he [Aaron] goeth 
 in to make an atonement in the holy place , until 
 he come out, and have made an atonement for 
 himself, and for his household, and for all the con¬ 
 gregation of Israel.* Le. xvi. 17. The reason is, for 
 that Christ is mediator alone; he trod the wine¬ 
 press alone; and of the people there was none with 
 him to help him there, is. lxiii. 3. l Ti. ii. 5. 
 
 Of the people there was none to help him to 
 bear his cross, or in the management of the first 
 part of his priestly office. Why then should there 
 be any to share with him in his executing of the 
 second part thereof? Besides, he that helps an 
 intercessor must himself be innocent, or in favour, 
 upon some grounds not depending on the worth of 
 the intercession. But as to the intercession of 
 Christ, Avho can come in to help upon the account 
 of such innocency or worth? Not the highest 
 angel; for there is none such but one, wherefore 
 he must do that alone. Hence it is said, He went 
 in alone, is there alone, and there intercedes alone. 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 507 
 
 And -this is manifest not only in the type Aaron, 
 but in the antitype Christ Jesus. He. vi. 19,20 ; ix. 
 7—11, 81, 23, 24. 
 
 I do not say that there is no man in heaven but 
 Jesus Christ; but I say, he is there to make in¬ 
 tercession for us alone. Yea, the holy text says 
 more. ‘I go,’ saith Christ, ‘to prepare a place 
 for you; and if I go and prepare a place for you, 
 I will come again and receive you unto myself, that 
 where I am there ye may be also.’ Jn.xiv. 1 — 3 . 
 
 This text seems to insinuate that Christ is in 
 the holiest or highest heavens alone; and that he 
 there alone must be, until he has finished his work 
 of intercession; for not till then he comes again 
 to take us to himself. Let us grant Christ the 
 pre-eminency in this, as also in all other things; 
 for he is intercessor for his church, and makes it 
 for them in the holiest alone. It is said he is the 
 light that no man can approach unto. 
 
 LXVIII. Of the high-priest's going in thither but 
 
 once a year. 
 
 As the high-priest went into the holiest when 
 he went in thither alone; so to do that work, he 
 went in thither but once a year. Thou shalt 
 not come ‘at all times,’ said God to him, ‘into 
 the holy place, within the veil, before the mercy- 
 seat, which is upon the ark, that thou die not.’ 
 Le. xvi. 2. 
 
 And as he was to go in thither but ‘ once a year, ’ 
 so not then neither, unless clothed and adorned, 
 with his Aaronical holy robes. Le. xvi. 32 - 34 . Then 
 he was to be clothed, as I hinted before, with the 
 holy robes, the frontlet of gold upon his forehead, 
 the names of the twelve tribes upon his breast, and 
 the jingling bells upon the skirts of his garment ? 
 nor would all this do, unless he went in thither with 
 
 blood. Ex. xxviii. Le. xvi. 
 
 Now, this once a year the apostle taketh special 
 notice of, and makes great use of it. ‘ Once a 
 year, ’ saith he, this high-priest went in thither: 
 once a year, that is, to show, that Christ should 
 once in the end of the world, go into heaven itself, 
 to make intercession there for us. For by this 
 ■word ‘year,’ he shows the term and time of the 
 world is meant; and by ‘ once ’ in that year, ha 
 means once in the end of the world. 
 
 ‘Not,’ saith he, ‘that he should offer himself 
 often : as the high-priest entereth into the holy 
 place every year with blood of others. For then 
 must he often have suffered since the foundation of 
 the world; but now once in the end of the world 
 hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice 
 of himself. He. ix. 25, 26. 
 
 And having thus once offered his sacrifice with¬ 
 out the veil, he is now gone into the holiest, to 
 perfect his work of mediation for us. Not into the 
 holy places made with hands, which are the figures 
 
 of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear 
 in the presence of God for us. 
 
 Now if our Lord Jesus is gone indeed, now to 
 appear in the presence of God for us; and if this 
 now be the once a year that the type speaks of; 
 the once in the end of the world, as our apostle 
 says; then it follows, that the people of God should 
 all stand waiting for his benediction that to them 
 he shall bring with him when he shall return from 
 thence. Wherefore he adds, ‘ Christ was once of¬ 
 fered to bear the sins of many; and unto them that 
 look for him shall he appear the second time with¬ 
 out sin unto salvation. ’ ver. 28. 
 
 This, therefore, shows us the greatness of the 
 work that Christ has to do at the right hand of 
 God, for that he stays there so long. He accom¬ 
 plished all the first part of his priesthood in less 
 than forty years, if you take in the making of his 
 holy garments and all; but about this second part 
 thereof, he has been above in heaven above sixteen 
 hundred years, and yet has not done. 
 
 This therefore calls for faith and patience in 
 saints, and by this he also tries the world; so that 
 they, in mocking manner, begin to say already, 
 
 ‘ Where is the promise of his coming ? ’ 2 Pe. m. 4 . 
 But I say again, We must look and wait. If the 
 people waited for Zacharias, and wondered that he 
 staid so long, because he staid in the holy place 
 somewhat longer than they expected, no marvel if 
 the faith of the world about Christ’s coming is fled 
 and gone long ago, yea, and that the children also 
 are put to it to wait, since a scripture ‘ little while ’ 
 doth prove so long. For that which the apostle 
 saith, ‘ yet a little while, ’ doth prove to some to be 
 a very long little. Jn. xvi. 16. He. x. 37 . 
 
 True, Zacharias had then to do with angels, and 
 that made him stay so long. 0 but Jesus is with 
 God, before him, in his presence, talking with him, 
 swallowed up in him, and with his glory, and that 
 is one cause he stays so long. He is there also 
 pleading his blood for his tempted ones, and inter¬ 
 ceding for all his elect, and waits there till all his 
 be fitted for, and ready to enter into glory. I say, 
 he is there, and there must be till then; and this 
 is another reason why he doth stay the time we 
 count so long. 
 
 And, indeed, it is a wonder to me, that Jesus 
 Christ our Lord should once think, now he is there, 
 of returning hither again, considering the ill treat¬ 
 ment he met with here before. But what will not 
 love do ? Surely he would never touch the ground 
 again, had he not a people here that cannot be 
 made perfect but by his coming to them. He also 
 is made judge of quick and dead, and will get him 
 glory in the ruin of them that hate him. 
 
 His people are as himself to him. Can a loving 
 husband abide to be always from a beloved spouse? 
 Besides, as I said, he is to pay the wicked off, for 
 
508 
 
 SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 all their wickedness, and that in that very plat 
 where they have committed it. Wherefore the day 
 appointed for this is set, and he will, and shall 
 come quickly to do it. For however the time may 
 seem long to us, yet, according to the reckoning 
 of God, it is but a little while since he went into 
 the holiest to intercede. ‘ A thousand years with 
 the Lord is as one dayand after this manner of 
 counting, he has not been gone yet full two days 
 into the holiest. ‘ The Lord is not slack concern¬ 
 ing his promise, as some men count slackness 
 ‘ he will come quickly, and will not tarry.’ 2 Pe. iii. 
 He. X. 37. 
 
 LXIX. Of the cherubims , and of their being placed 
 over the mercy-seat in the inner Temple. 
 
 There were also cherubims in the most holy 
 place, which were set on high above the mercy- 
 seat. See 1 Ki. vi. 23—28. 
 
 1. These are called by the apostles, ‘the cheru¬ 
 bims of glory shadowing the mercy-seat.’ He. ix. 5. 
 
 2. These cherubims were figures of the angels 
 of God, as in other places we have proved. 
 
 3. It is said these cherubims were made of 
 image work, and that in such manner, as that they 
 could, as some think, move their wings by art ; 
 wherefore it is said, * they stretched forth their 
 wings ;’ the wings of the ‘ cherubims spread them¬ 
 selves;’ and that the ‘ cherubims spread forth their 
 wings over the place of the ark, - and the staves 
 thereof above.’ 1 Ki. vi. 27. 2 Ch. iii. 13; v. 8. 
 
 4. I read also of these cherubims, that they had 
 chariots and wheels; by which is taught us how 
 ready and willing the angels are to fetch us when 
 commanded, unto the paradise of God; for these 
 chariots were types of the bosoms of the angels ; 
 and these wheels, of the quickness of their motion 
 to come for us when sent. ‘ The chariots of God 
 are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels; the 
 Lord is among them, as in Sinai, in the holy place. ’ 
 
 1 Ch. xxviii. 18. Eze. x. 9,15,16, 18,19, 20. 2 Ki. vi. 17. Pa. lxviii. 17. 
 
 2 Ki. ii. 11. Da. ix. 2. 
 
 5. What difference, if any, there is between 
 cherubims and seraphims, into that I shall not now 
 inquire; though I believe that there are diverse 
 orders and degrees of angels in the heavens, as 
 there are degrees and diverse orders among men in 
 the world. But that these cherubims were figures 
 of the holy angels, their being thus placed in the 
 holy oracle doth declare; for their dwelling-place 
 is heaven, though they, for our sakes, are conver¬ 
 sant in the world. He. i. 
 
 6. It is said that these cherubims, in this holy 
 place, did stand upon their feet, to show, 1, That 
 the angels of heaven are not fallen from their sta¬ 
 tion, as the other angels are. 2. To show also 
 that they are always ready, at God’s bidding, to 
 run with swiftness to do his pleasure. 3. To show 
 
 also that they shall continue in their station, being 
 therein confirmed by Jesus Christ, ‘ by whom all 
 things consist.’ Col. i. 17. 
 
 7. It is said ‘their faces were inward,’ looking 
 one to another, yet withal somewhat ascending, to 
 show that the angels both behold and wonder at 
 the mysteries of grace, as it is displayed to usward 
 from off the mercy-seat. The faces of the cheru¬ 
 bims ‘shall look one to another; towards the mercy- 
 seat shall the faces of the cherubims be.’ Ex. xxv. 20. 
 2Ch. iii. 13. IPe. i. 12. Ep. iii. 10. 
 
 (1.) * Towards the mercy-seat.’ They are desir¬ 
 ous to see it, and how from hence, I say, mercy 
 doth look towards us. 
 
 (2.) ‘They look one towards another,’ to show 
 that they agree to rejoice in the salvation of our 
 souls. Lu. xv. 10. 
 
 (3.) They are said to stand above the mercy- 
 seat, perhaps to show that the angels have not 
 need of those acts of mercy and forgiveness as we 
 have, who stand below, and are sinners. They 
 stand above it; they are holy. I do not say they 
 have no need that the goodness of God should be 
 extended to them, for it is by that they have been 
 and are preserved; but they need not to be for¬ 
 given, for they have committed no iniquity. 
 
 (4.) They stand there also with wings stretched 
 out, to show how ready, if need be, the angels are 
 to come from heaven to preach this gospel to the 
 world.’ Lu. ii. 9—14. 
 
 (5.) It is said in this, that thus standing, their 
 wings did reach from wall to wall; from one side 
 of this holy house to the other; to show that all 
 the angeb within the boundaries of the heavens, 
 with one consent and one mind, are ready to come 
 down to help and serve, and do for God’s elect at 
 his command. 
 
 It is said, also, that their wings are stretched 
 on high, to show that they are only delighted in 
 those duties which are enjoined them by the high 
 and lofty One, and not inclined, no not to serve the 
 saints in their sensual or fleshly designs. It may 
 be also to show that they are willing to take their 
 flight from one end of heaven to the other, to serve 
 God and his church for good. Mat. xiii.4i, 49; xxlv. 3lj 
 xxv. 31. 2 Th. L 7, 8. 
 
 LXX. Of the figures that were upon the walls of the 
 
 inner Temple. 
 
 The wall of the inner temple, which was a type 
 of heaven, was, as I have already told you, ceiled 
 with cedar from the bottom to the top. Now by 
 the vision of Ezekiel, it is said this wall was carved 
 with cherubims and palm trees. ‘So that a palm 
 tree was between a cherub and a cherub, and every 
 cherub had two faces ; so that the face of a man 
 was toward the palm tree on the one side, and the 
 face of a young lion toward the palm tree on the 
 
SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 509 
 
 other side. It was made through all the house 
 round about; from the ground unto above the door 
 were cherubims and palm trees made.’ Eze.xii. 18 - 20 . 
 
 1. As to these cherubims and palm trees, I have 
 already told you what I think them to be figures 
 of. The cherubims are figures of the holy angels, 
 and the palm trees of upright ones; we therefore 
 here are to discourse only of the placing of them 
 in the heavens. 
 
 2. Now you see the palm trees in the holiest 
 are placed between a cherub and a cherub, round 
 about the house, which methinks should be to si<r- 
 nify that the saints shall not there live by faith 
 and hope, as here, but in the immediate enjoyment 
 of God; for to be placed between the cherubims, 
 is to be placed where God dwells; for Holy Writ 
 says plainly, He dwells between the cherubims, 
 even where here it is said these palm trees, or up¬ 
 right ones are placed. 1 Sa.iv. 4 . 2 Ki. xix. 15 . ich.xiii. 6. 
 Ps. lxxx. 1 . is. xxxvii. 16. The church on earth is called 
 God’s house, and he will dwell in it for ever; and 
 heaven itself is called God’s house, and we shall 
 dwell in it for ever, and that between the cheru¬ 
 bims. This is more than grace, this is grace and 
 glory, glory indeed. 
 
 3. To dwell between the cherubims may be also 
 to show that there we shall be equal to the angels. 
 Mark, here is a palm tree and a cherub, a palm 
 tree and a cherub. Here we are a little lower, but 
 there we shall not be a whit behind the very chief 
 of them. A palm tree and a cherub, an upright 
 one between the cherubs, will then be round about 
 the house; we shall be placed in the same rank; 
 
 * neither can they die any more, for they are equal 
 unto the angels.’ Lu.xx. 36. 
 
 4. The palm trees thus placed, may be also to 
 show us that the elect of God shall there take up 
 the vacancies of the fallen angels; they for sin 
 were cast down from the holy heavens, and we by 
 grace shall be caught up thither, and be placed 
 between a cherub and a cherub. When I say 
 their places, I do not mean the fickleness of that 
 state, that they for want of electing love did stand 
 in while in glory ; for the heavens, by the blood 
 of Christ, is now to us become a purchased pos¬ 
 session ; wherefore, as we shall have their place 
 in the heavenly kingdom, so, by virtue of redeeming 
 blood, we shall there abide, and go no more out; 
 for by that means that kingdom will stand to us 
 unshaken. lie. ix. 12; xii. 22—24, 28. Re. iiL 12. 
 
 5. These palm trees, I say, seem to take their 
 places who for sin were cast from thence. The 
 elect therefore take that place in possession, but a 
 better crown for ever. Thus ‘Israel possessed that 
 of the Canaanites;’ and David, Saul’s kingdom; 
 and Matthias, the place, the apostleship of Judas. 
 Ac. L 20—26. 
 
 G. Nor were the habitations which the fallen 
 angels lost, excepting that which was excepted be¬ 
 fore, at all inferior to theirs that stood; for their 
 captain and prince is called son of the morning, for 
 he was the antitype there. Is. xiv. 12 . 
 
 7. Thus, you see, they were placed from the 
 ground up to above the door; that is, from the 
 lowest to the highest angel there. For as there 
 are great saints and small ones in the church on 
 earth, so there are angels of divers degrees in 
 heaven, some greater than some; but the smallest 
 saint, when he gets to heaven, shall have an angel’s 
 dignity, an angel’s place. From the ground you 
 find a palm tree between a cherub and a cherub. 
 
 8. And every cherub had two faces—so here; 
 but I read in Eze. x. 14 , that they had four faces 
 apiece. The first was the face of a cherubim; the 
 second, the face of a man; the third, the face of 
 a lion; and the fourth, the face of an eagle. 
 
 9. They had two faces apiece; not to show that 
 they were of a double heart, for ‘their appearances 
 and themselves’ were the same, and ‘they went 
 every one straight forward.’ Eze. x. 22 . These two 
 faces, then, were to show here the quickness of 
 their apprehension, and their terribleness to exe¬ 
 cute the mind of God. The face of a man signifies 
 them masters of reason; the face of a lion, the 
 terribleness of their presence. 1 Co. xiii. 12 . Ju. xiii. 6. 
 
 In another place I read of their wheels; yea, 
 that themselves, ‘ their whole bodies, and their 
 backs, and their hands, and their wings, and the 
 wheels were full of eyes round about. ’ Eze. i. 18 ; x. 12 . 
 And this is to show us how knowing and quick- 
 sighted they are in all providences and dark dis¬ 
 pensations, and how nimble in apprehending the 
 mischievous designs of the enemies of God’s church, 
 and so how able they are to undermine them. And 
 forasmuch also as they have the face of a lion, we 
 by that are showed how full of power they are to 
 kill and to destroy, when God says, Go forth and 
 do so. Now, with these we must dwell and co¬ 
 habit, a palm tree and a cherub; a palm tree and 
 a cherub must be from the ground to above the 
 door, round about the house—the heavens. 
 
 ‘So that the face of a man was toward the palm 
 tree on the one side, and the face of a young lion 
 toward the palm tree on the other side.’ By these 
 two faces may be also showed that we in the 
 heavens shall have glory sufficient to familiarize us 
 to the angels. Their lion-like looks, with which they 
 used to fright the biggest saint on earth, as you 
 have it, Ge. xxxii. 30 . Jn. xiii. is, 22 , shall then be accom¬ 
 panied with the familiar looks of a man. Then 
 angels and men shall be fellows, and have to do 
 with each as such. 
 
 Thus you see something of that little that I have 
 found in the temple of God. 
 
A DISCOURSE 
 
 OP 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 That part of Palestine in which the celebrated 
 mountains of Lebanon are situated, is the border 
 country adjoining Syria, having Sidon for its sea¬ 
 port, and Land, nearly adjoining the city of Da¬ 
 mascus, on the north. This metropolitan city of 
 Syria, and capital of the kingdom of Damascus, 
 was strongly fortified; and during the border con¬ 
 flicts it served as a cover to the Assyrian army. 
 Bunyan, with great reason, supposes that, to keep 
 them in check, Solomon built a tower house and 
 palace, well furnished with munitions of war, called 
 the house in the forest of Lebanon. 
 
 As the magnificent temple at Jerusalem was the 
 seat of public worship appointed by God, it was 
 considered typical of the gospel dispensation, which 
 was intended to supersede it. AH its parts and 
 utensils, sacrifices and services, have been de¬ 
 scribed, in their typical meaning, in Solomon s 
 Temple Spiritualized; but as the lovely system of 
 the gospel had, with slow and irresistible steps, to 
 conquer the prejudices, passions, and wickedness 
 of mankind, those who bore the brunt of this battle 
 were considered as the church militant in the 
 wilderness: and Bunyan has, in this treatise, en¬ 
 deavoured to show that this palace and fortress 
 was typical of the churches of Christ while in a 
 state of holy warfare, defending their Divine dis¬ 
 pensation, and extending the line of defence by 
 progressive spiritual conquests. While the churches 
 are surrounded by enemies, they have inexhaust¬ 
 ible internal comfort, strength, and consolation. 
 Like the house in the forest of Lebanon, they are 
 also pleasantly, nay, beautifully situated. If Mount 
 Zion was the joy of the whole earth, the moun¬ 
 tains of Damascus were a picture of the earthly 
 paradise. So beautiful is the scenery, and balmy 
 the air, that one part is called Eden, or the gar¬ 
 den of the Lord. It is described by Arabian poets 
 as always bearing winter far above upon his head, 
 spring on its shoulders, and autumn in his bosom, 
 while perpetual summer lies sleeping at his feet. 
 It was upon this beautiful spot, called by Isaiah 
 ‘ the glory of Lebanon,’ that Solomon built his 
 house in the forest. 
 
 This is the plain matter of fact which Bunyan 
 establishes from the sacred Scriptures, but he was, 
 as to lettered lore, an unlearned man; at all events, 
 
 no man could say of him that ‘much learning 
 has made thee mad.’ Bunyan’s is the plain com¬ 
 mon-sense scriptural account of this building; but 
 he differs greatly from almost all our learned com¬ 
 mentators—they imagining that this house was 
 near the temple of Jerusalem. The Assembly of 
 Divines, in their valuable annotations, suggest that 
 it was so called ‘ because great store of trees, as 
 in Lebanon , were planted about it; and gardens, 
 orchards, and all manner of delightful things were 
 added thereto:’ to aid this conjecture, they quote 
 Ec. ii. 4, 6. Poole says that it was ‘a house so called, 
 either, first, because it was built in the mountain 
 and forest of Lebanon, for recreation in summer 
 time; but generally held to have been near Jeru- 
 salem ; or rather, secondly, from some resemblance 
 it had with Lebanon for its pleasant shades and 
 groves. ’ Diodati considers it the same with Solo¬ 
 mon’s palace, but called the house of Lebanon by 
 reason of the groves planted about it ; or of the 
 great number of cedar columns brought from Leb¬ 
 anon, and used in its construction. Even Bunyan’s 
 favourite translation, made at Geneva by the Puri¬ 
 tans, while it gives two wood-cuts of ‘ The King’s 
 house in the wood of Lebanon,’ a marginal note 
 is added—‘For the beauty of the place, and great 
 abundance of cedar trees that went to the building 
 thereof, it was compared to Mount Lebanon.’ 
 Calmet, in his very valuable translation, accom¬ 
 panied by the Vulgate Latin, gives the same idea: 
 ‘ II batit encore le palais appelle la maison du 
 Leban, a cause de la quantite prodigeuse de cedres 
 qui entroient dans la structure de cet edifice.’ 
 Bishop Patrick places this house in or near to 
 Jerusalem, ‘ in a cool, shady mountain, which 
 made it resemble Mount Lebanon.’ Dr. Gill was 
 of opinion that this house was near Jerusalem; 
 because it was a magazine of arms, and a court 
 of judicature, and had its name from being built 
 of the cedars of Lebanon, and among groves of 
 trees. Josephus, in his Antiquities of the Jews, 
 book viii. chap. vi. s. 5, states that when the Queen 
 of Sheba came to Judea, she was amazed at the 
 wisdom of Solomon, and surprised at the fineness 
 and largeness of his royal palace ; ‘ but she was 
 beyond measure astonished at the house which was 
 I called the forest of Lebanon.’ Matthew Henry 
 
ADVERTISEMENT EY THE EDITOR. 
 
 511 
 
 follows the opinion of Bunyan; ‘ I rather incline 
 to think it was a house built in the forest of Leb¬ 
 anon itself, whither, though far distant from Jeru¬ 
 salem, Solomon having so many chariots and horses, 
 and those dispersed into chariot cities, which pro¬ 
 bably were his stages, he might frequently retire 
 with ease.’ Express notice is taken of Lebanon, 
 as the place of a warlike building, in 2 Ki. xi*., and 
 
 in Ca. vii. 4. 
 
 The tower of Lebanon is described as looking 
 towards Damascus. The ruins of this house and 
 tower, in the forest of Lebanon, are probably those 
 seen by Benjamin of Tudela, who describes the 
 stones of which it was built as twenty palms long, 
 and twelve wide. Gabriel Sionita describes the 
 tower as an hundred cubits high, and fifty broad. 
 Maundrel saw the ruins in the mountains of Leb¬ 
 anon at a distance. The objections made by our 
 commentators to the plain testimony of the Scrip¬ 
 tures are, that Solomon would not have built this 
 beautiful house at so great a distance from the 
 capital—that he would not have risked so much 
 treasure nor the munitions of war in a forest— 
 and that he would not, on the extreme border of 
 the kingdom of Judea, have set up a throne, or 
 seat of judgment. The answer to these objections 
 appears to me to be conclusive. Lebanon possessed 
 the most commanding sites for a border fortress, 
 and therefore an admirable depot for arms, to en¬ 
 able the Jewish warriors to keep out their most 
 vigilant and dangerous enemies, the Assyrians. 
 The wealth that was deposited in this house was 
 calculated to excite greater vigilance to protect so 
 important a pass, while it would divert the atten¬ 
 tion of an enemy from the still more wealthy tem¬ 
 ple and fortress at Jerusalem. A throne of justice 
 was well placed there, to save a long journey to 
 the capital, for the trial of offenders, and the settle¬ 
 ment of disputes on the borders of the empire. It 
 appears to me that common sense and the soundest 
 evidence supports the view which Bunyan took, 
 which was far in advance of the age in which he 
 lived. 
 
 The way in which this building, with the pur¬ 
 poses for which it was intended, is spiritualized, is 
 very ingenious, and admirably carried through in 
 the following treatise. Whether it was intended 
 by the Holy Ghost to be typical, must be left to 
 the judgment of the impartial reader. That Leb¬ 
 anon is used figuratively by the inspired writers 
 there can be no doubt. ‘ Lebanon is ashamed and 
 hewn down,’ must be intended as a type of the 
 church, wdien under the malice of her enemies. 
 So also when Babylon, a type of Antichrist, fell, 
 ‘the cedars of Lebanon rejoiced;’ doubtless re¬ 
 ferring to the joy of God’s saints when relieved 
 from the oppressor. Whether the fine old trees, 
 or the splendid house built as a defence to pre¬ 
 
 vent the approach of enemies to the temple, is 
 intended as a type of the Christian warfare, is 
 left to the impartial consideration of the reader. 
 There is very little reason to doubt but that we 
 shall adopt Bunyan’s view; if we consider the tem¬ 
 ple to be typical, we shall consider the house in 
 the forest of Lebanon to be typical also. 
 
 It has been said, by an author of very great re¬ 
 pute (Addison), that had Bunyan lived in the times 
 of the Chnstian fathers, he would have been as 
 gieat a fathei as the best of them. lie stands 
 unrivalled for most extraordinary mental powers 
 for allegory and for spiritualizing, but to compare 
 him with the best of the fathers is faint praise 
 indeed. He was as much their superior, as the 
 blaze of the noon-day sun excels the glimmer of a 
 rushlight. 
 
 In this treatise we find many very admirable 
 illustrations of two important subjects. One is, that 
 temporal governors have nothing to fear from the 
 spread of vital godliness: the other is upon the 
 nature of the strife and antipathy felt by the world 
 against Christ and his spiritual seed. They are 
 sweet-scented; the fragrant smell of their graces 
 excites the enmity of Satan and his followers, who 
 would burn these cedars, because they are pillars 
 of, and angels for, the truth. ‘ Reason, history, 
 and experience all confirm this truth; that a people, 
 wliose profession is directly in opposition to the 
 devil, and antichrist, and to all debauchery, inhu¬ 
 manity, profaneness, superstition, and idolatry,’ P . 529 . 
 will be hated, persecuted, and, if possible, destroyed 
 by Satan and his adherents. The secret is, that 
 the world cannot bear such ‘living epistles, known 
 and read of all men,’ which reflect so severely by 
 their conduct upon the vice and profligacy of the 
 worldling. This was a stinging censure upon 
 the profligate court of Charles II., and therefore 
 the Nonconformists were hated and persecuted; 
 while conformity to soul-benumbing rites and cere¬ 
 monies was cherished and rewarded. To render 
 persecution perfectly unjustifiable, Bunyan scrip- 
 turally and plainly exhibits the harmlessness of 
 the Christian character bearing with meekness 
 the injuries heaped upon it; followers of him who, 
 when reviled, reviled not again, but suffered patient¬ 
 ly. It is a grievous mistake to suppose that vital 
 godliness caused the great rebellion, and conse¬ 
 quent beheading of King Charles I. It was fright¬ 
 ful and most insupportable tyranny that drove a 
 nation, headed by their parliament, to arms. The 
 King levied severe taxes without the consent of the 
 people’s representatives; he perverted justice by 
 the abominable decisions of the King’s judges in the 
 court of Star Chamber; and attempted to introduce 
 Popery through the medium of the Queen and her 
 licentious court, composed principally of the worst 
 class of foreign Papists. And when Leighton, 
 
512 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 Prynne, Bastwick, and some of the most virtuous | 
 and enlightened citizens, justly hut firmly remon¬ 
 strated, they were seized and tortured in a way 
 that the heart sickens with the narrative. It was 
 an attempt to reduce the whole nation to the most 
 abject slavery of both body and soul, that roused 
 the spirit of the people to resistance. The solemn 
 league and covenant was taken, Cromwell appeared, 
 and the country was, by Divine aid, saved from 
 utter desolation. It was not a war of religious 
 sects; the Presbyterians, Independents, Baptists, 
 and others, could never have coalesced; it was a 
 war for liberty or despotism, and the principal of the 
 warriors on both sides were attached to the religion 
 that was by law established. It is true that many 
 Episcopalians, in the reign of Charles II., charged 
 the Puritans, not only as being the mainspring, but 
 as possessing the overwhelming force in that awful 
 struggle, forgetting that the Nonconformists were 
 then but a handful of men, neither possessed of 
 wealth nor influence. To attribute victory to so small 
 a band, must refer it to the immediate interposition 
 of the Most High, as in the case of Gideon in his 
 victory over the Assyrians. But it was no sectarian 
 fight, except those two great sects of freemen against 
 despots. Bunyan fully proves that no state has 
 anything to fear from religion: ‘She moveth no 
 sedition, she abideth in her place ; let her temple- 
 worshippers but alone, and she will be as if she 
 were notin the world;’ ‘ neither she nor her Jesus 
 are for doing them any hurt.” p. 51 6. ‘ God’s armour 
 
 is no burthen to the body, nor clog to the mind, 
 and it being only spiritual, the slaughter must needs 
 be spiritual also.’ ‘All her privileges are soul 
 concerns, they make no infringement upon any 
 man’s liberties. Let but faith and holiness walk 
 the streets without control, and you may be as 
 happy as the world can make you.’ ‘Let not 
 kings, and princes, and potentates be afraid; the 
 saints that are such indeed, know their places , and 
 are of a peaceable deportment ; the earth God 
 hath given to the children of men, and his kingdom 
 to the sons of God.’ p.536. The Christian is a 
 pilgrim bound to a far more glorious inheritance: 
 with so bright and glorious a prospect, he may 
 well apply the encouraging language of Bunyan to 
 his own soul; ‘ I have a bad master, but I have 
 only a year to serve under him, and that makes 
 me serve him with patience. I have but a mile 
 to go in this dirty way, and then I shall have my 
 path pleasant and green, and this makes me tread 
 the dirty way with patience. ’ p. 537 . 
 
 This treatise is one of the ten ‘ excellent manu¬ 
 scripts’ which Bunyan had prepared for the press, 
 when his unexpected decease prevented his pub¬ 
 lishing them. It first appeared in the folio volume 
 of his works, printed under the care of Charles 
 Doe, in 1692. It has since been re-published in 
 every edition of Bunyan’s works, but with the omis¬ 
 sion of the Scripture references, and many errors. 
 It is now accurately corrected by the first edition. 
 
 Geo. Offor. 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 As Solomon built a house for Pharaoh’s daughter, 
 and that called the temple of the Lord; so he 
 built a house in Lebanon, called * the house of the 
 forest of Lebanon.’ 1 Ki. vii. 2 . 
 
 Some, I perceive, have thought that this house, 
 called ‘ the house of the forest of Lebanon, ’ was 
 none other than that called the temple at Jerusalem, 
 and that that was called ‘ the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon,’ because built of the wood that grew 
 there. But that Solomon built another than that, 
 even one in Lebanon, called ‘ the house of the 
 forest of Lebanon,’ is evident, and that from these 
 reasons:— 
 
 First, That in the forest of Lebanon is mentioned 
 as another, besides that called the temple of the 
 Lord; and that too when the temple and its finish¬ 
 ing is spoken of; yea, it is mentioned with an ‘ also,’ 
 as an additional house, besides the temple of the 
 Lord. 
 
 ‘ In the fourth year,’ saith the text, ‘ was the 
 foundation of the house of the Lord laid in the 
 month Zif j 1 and in the eleventh year in the month 
 Bui, which is the eighth month, was the house 
 finished throughout all the parts thereof, and ac¬ 
 cording to all the fashion of it; so he was seven 
 years in building it.’ ‘ But Solomon was building 
 his own house thirteen years, and he finished all 
 his house. He built also the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon,’ &c. 1 Ki. vi. 37, 38 ; vii. 1 , 2 . 
 
 Can there now be any thing more plain ? Is 
 not here the house of the forest of Lebanon men¬ 
 tioned as another besides the temple ? he built the 
 temple, he built his own house, he built also the 
 house of the forest of Lebanon. 
 
 Second . It is evident by the difference of their 
 measures and dimensions. The length of the temple 
 was threescore cubits; but the length of the house 
 of the forest of Lebanon was an hundred cubits; 
 
 1 The second month in the Hebrew calendar began April 
 7.—(Ed.) 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 513 
 
 so that the house of the forest of Lebanon was forty 
 cubits more than was that called Solomon’s temple: 
 The breadth of Solomon’s temple was twenty 
 cubits, but the breadth of the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon was fifty cubits: And as there is odds 
 between threescore and fivescore, so there is also 
 between twenty and fifty. 
 
 As to their height, they were both alike; hut 
 equality in height can no more make them the 
 same, than can a twenty years’ age in two, make 
 them one and the same person. 
 
 Their porches also differed greatly; the porch of 
 the temple was in length but twenty cubits, but the 
 length of that of the house of the forest of Lebanon 
 was fifty cubits. So that here also is thirty odds. 1 
 The porch of the temple was but ten cubits broad; 
 but the porch of the house of the forest of Lebanon 
 thirty cubits. Now, I say, who that considereth 
 these disproportions, can conclude that the house 
 of the forest of Lebanon was none other than that 
 called the temple of Jerusalem. For all this com¬ 
 pare 1 Ki. vi. 2 , S, with vil 2 , 6. * 
 
 Third . If you add to these the different makes 
 of the houses, it will sufficiently appear that they 
 were not one. The house of the forest of Lebanon 
 was built upon four rows of cedar pillars; but we 
 read of no such pillars upon which the temple stood. 
 The windows of the house of the forest of Lebanon 
 stood in three rows, light against light; but we 
 read of no such thing in the temple. The temple 
 had two pillars before the door of its porch, but we 
 read not of them before the door of the porch of 
 the house of the forest of Lebanon. In the sixth 
 and seventh chapters of the first book of Kings, 
 these two houses, as to their make, are exactly set 
 forth; so that he that listeth may search and see, 
 if as to this I have not said the truth. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 OF WIIAT THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON 
 WAS A TYPE. 
 
 That the house of the forest of Lebanon was a 
 house significant, I think i3 clear; also, if it had 
 not, w r e should not have had so particular an ac¬ 
 count thereof in the holy Word of God: I read but 
 of four buildings wherein, in a particular manner, 
 the houses or fabrics are, as to their manner of 
 building, distinctly handled. The tabernacle is one, 
 the temple another; the porch which he built for 
 his throne, his throne for judgment; and this house 
 of the forest of Lebanon is the fourth. Now the 
 three first, to wit, the tabernacle, the temple, the 
 porch and throne, wise men will say are typical; 
 and therefore so is this. 
 
 1 A common expression for difference.—‘ What’s the odds 
 between us?’—(E d.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 [F’zVs^.] I will therefore take it for granted that 
 the house of the forest of Lebanon is a significative 
 thing, yea, a figure of the church, as the temple 
 at Jerusalem was, though not under the same con¬ 
 sideration. The temple was a figure of the church 
 under the gospel, as she relateth to worship; but 
 the house of the forest of Lebanon was a fio-ure of 
 that church as she is assaulted for her worship, as 
 she is persecuted for the same. Or take it more 
 expressly thus: I take this house of the forest of 
 Lebanon to be a type of the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness, or as she is in her sackcloth state. 
 
 We read, before this house was built, that there 
 was a church in the wilderness; and also, after this 
 house was demolished, that there would be a church 
 in the wilderness. Ac. vii. 38. Re. xii. 14. But we now 
 respect that wilderness state that the church of 
 the New Testament is in, and conclude that this 
 house of the forest of Lebanon was a type and 
 figure of that; that is, of her wilderness state. 
 And, methinks, the very place where this house was 
 built does intimate such a thing; for this house was 
 not built in a town, a city, &c., as was that called 
 the temple of the Lord, but was built in a kind 
 of a wood, a wilderness; it was built in the forest 
 of Lebanon, unto which that saying seems directly 
 to answer. ‘And to the woman,’ the church, 
 
 ‘ were given two wings of a great eagle, that she 
 might fly into the wilderness into her place. ’ Re. 
 xii. 14. A wilderness state is a desolate, a tempted, 
 an afflicted, a persecuted state. Je. ii. 6. All which 
 is more than intimated by the witnesses wearing 
 of, and prophesying in sackcloth, and also expressed 
 of by that Re. xii. 
 
 Answerable to this is that of the prophet con¬ 
 cerning this house of the forest of Lebanon, where 
 he says, ‘ Open thy doors, 0 Lebanon ! that the 
 fire may devour thy cedars.’ And again, ‘ Howl, 
 fir-tree ; for the cedar is fallen.’ Zee. xi. l, 2 . What 
 can be more express ? The prophet here knocks at 
 the very door of the house of the forest of Lebanon, 
 and tells her that her cedars are designed for 
 fire; unto which also most plainly answer the flames 
 to which so many of the cedars of Lebanon," God’s 
 saints, I mean, for many hundred years, have been 
 delivered for their profession; and by which, as 
 
 2 The churches of Christ have suffered under bitter perse¬ 
 cution, aud been in a wilderness state, from the primitive 
 times, through Popish days, aud under the relentless cruelties 
 suffered by the Covenanters aud Nonconformists from the 
 Church of England. As the gospel spreads, it humanizes and 
 softens the hearts even of the rebellious. Hie dread lire no 
 longer consumes the cedars of Lebanon. Still there remains 
 the contemptuous sneer, the scorn, the malice of the soul, 
 against Christ and his spiritual seed. Not many years siuce 
 the two daughters of an evangelical clergyman, a D.D., came 
 out, from strong and irresistible conviction, and united with 
 one of the straitest sects ol Dissenters—the Plymouth Brethren. 
 The unhappy parent could not brook the insult to his order, 
 aud died insane.— (Ed.) 
 
 65 
 
514 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 another prophet has it, for many days they have 
 fallen. Da. xi. 33 . Also when the king of Assyria 
 came up with his army against Jerusalem, this was 
 his vaunting, ‘ I am come - to the sides of Lebanon, 
 and I will cut down the tall cedars thereof.’ is.xxxvii.24. 
 
 What was this king of Assyria but a type of 
 the beast made mention of in the New Testament? 
 Now, saith he, I will cut down the cedars of Le¬ 
 banon ; who are, in our gospel times, the tall ones 
 of the church of God. And I say again, in that 
 he particularly mentions Lebanon, he intends that 
 house which Solomon built there, the which was 
 built as a fortification to defend the religion of the 
 temple, as the saints now in the wilderness of the 
 people are set for the defence of the gospel. But 
 more of this anon. 
 
 This house therefore was built to make assaults, 
 and to be assaulted, as the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness is; and hence the state of this house is com¬ 
 pared to the condition of a woman in travail, 
 struggling with her pains, as also we find the state 
 of the church in the wilderness is—‘ 0 inhabitant of 
 Lebanon, that makest thy nest in the cedars, how 
 gracious shalt thou be when pangs come upon 
 thee, the pain as of a woman in travail! ’ Je. xxii. 23 . 
 And again, ‘Verily, verily, I say unto you, That 
 ye shall weep and lament,’ and have sorrow, as a 
 woman in travail. Jn. xvi. 20 — 22 . Much answering 
 her case who, in her travails, and while ‘ pained to 
 be delivered,’ was said even in this case to stand 
 before the dragon, who with open mouth sought to 
 destroy her fruit, so ‘soon as it was born.’ Re.xii. 1 - 6 . 
 
 Hence, again, when Christ calls his spouse out 
 to suffer, he calls or draws her out of his house in 
 Lebanon, to look ‘ from the lions’ dens, from the 
 mountains of the leopards,’ to the things that are 
 invisible ; even as Paul said when he was in afflic¬ 
 tion, ‘ We look not at the things which are seen.’ 
 Ca. iv. 8. 2 Co. iv. is. He draws them out thence, I 
 say, as sheep appointed for the slaughter; yea, he 
 goeth before them, and they follow him thither. 
 
 Also, when the prophet foretells the affliction 
 of the church, he expresses it by the fall of the 
 cedars of Lebanon, saying, The Lord shall cut 
 down the thickets of the forest with iron; a little 
 afore called the axe and saw. And Lebanon shal 
 fall by a mighty one. Is. x. 15 , 34. And again, ‘ The 
 earth mourneth and languisheth: Lebanon is 
 ashamed and hewn down.’ is. xxxiii. o. 
 
 Do we think that the prophet prophesieth here 
 against trees, against the natural cedars of Le¬ 
 banon ? No, no, it is a prophecy touching the 
 afflicted state of the church in the wilderness, of 
 which Lebanon, I mean this house of the forest of 
 Lebanon, was a figure. 
 
 When God also threateneth the enemies of his 
 church in the wilderness with his judgments, for 
 their cruel dealing with her in the day of her de¬ 
 
 sertion, he calls those judgments the violence of 
 Lebanon. That is, by way of comparison, such as 
 he violence done to Lebanon was. ‘ The violence 
 of Lebanon shall cover thee; and the spoil of beasts 
 which made them [Lebanon] afraid, because of 
 men’s blood, and for the violence of the land, of 
 the city, and of all that dwell therein.’ Hab. ii. 17. 
 This is like that, ‘ Reward her, even as she re¬ 
 warded you, and double unto her double according 
 to her works.’ Re. xviii. 6. This the church doth by 
 her prayers. ‘ The violence done to me and to 
 my flesh he upon Babylon, shall the inhabitant of 
 Zion say; and my blood upon the inhabitants of 
 Chaldea, shall Jerusalem say.’ Je. n. 35 . And then 
 shall be fulfilled that which is written, Look what 
 
 thev did unto Lebanon shall be done unto them. 
 
 «/ 
 
 Ob. 15. Eze. xxxv. 14, 15. 
 
 God has his time to return the evil that the ene¬ 
 mies do to his church, and he will do it when his 
 time is come upon their own head; and this return 
 is called the covering of them with the violence of 
 Lebanon, or that violence showed to her in the day 
 of her distress. It is yet further evident that 
 this house of the forest of Lebanon was a type of 
 the church in the wilderness:— 
 
 1. For that she is called a tower, or place of for¬ 
 tification and defence; the same term that is given 
 to the church in a captivated state. Ca. vii.4. Mi.iv. 8—10 . 
 For as the church in the wilderness is compared 
 to a woman in travail, to show her fruitfulness to 
 God-ward in her most afflicted condition; so she is 
 called a tower, to show her fortitude and courage, 
 for God and his truth, against antichrist, I say 
 therefore, unto both these is she compared in that 
 scripture last cited, the which you may peruse if 
 you please. A tower is a place of receipt for the 
 afflicted, and so is the church under the rage of 
 antichrist; yea, and though it is the only place de¬ 
 signed by the enemy for ruin and destruction, yet 
 it is the only place of safety in the world. 1 
 
 2. This tower, this house of the forest of Le¬ 
 banon, it seems to be so built as to confront Dam¬ 
 ascus, the chief city of the king of Assyria; and 
 in so doing it was a most excellent type of the 
 spirit and design of the church in the wilderness, 
 who is raised up, and built to confront antichrist. 
 Hence Christ calls some of the features of his 
 church, and compares them to this. ‘ Thy neck,’ 
 says he ( is as a tower of ivory; thine eyes like the 
 fish-pools in Heshbon, by the gate of Bath-rabbim; 
 
 1 Runyan not only experienced the richest enjoyments in 
 jail, but it is very probable that his life was saved for a few 
 years by his having lain in prison during the violent heat and 
 storm of persecution which raged in the early part of the reign 
 of Charles 1 f. Thus God mysteriously restrains the wrath of 
 man, and makes it to praise him. The damp unwholesome 
 dungeon, intended for his destruction, crowned him with pecu¬ 
 liar honour, because, as in his Patmos, he there wrote his 
 immortal booic.—(E d.) 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 515 
 
 thy nose is as the tower of Lebanon which looketh 
 toward Damascus.’ Ca. vii. 4. 
 
 Thy nose, that great ornament of thy lovely coun¬ 
 tenance, is as a tower looking that way; so set, 
 as Christ says of his, as a flint. And this is a 
 comely feature in the church, that her nose stands 
 like a tower, or as he says in another place, like a 
 fenced brazen wall against Damascus, the metro¬ 
 politan of her enemy: ‘ for the head of Syria is 
 Damascus.’ is. vii. 8. 
 
 And as Christ thus compares his church, so she 
 again returns, or compares the face of her Lord to 
 the same, saying, ‘ Ilis legs are as pillars of marble, 
 set upon sockets of fine gold: his countenance is 
 as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.’ Ca.v. is. Thus 
 in Lebanon, in this brave house, is found the ex¬ 
 cellency of the church, and the beauty of Christ, 
 for that they are both as a rock, with glory and 
 majesty, bended against the enemies of the truth. 
 
 * The face of the Lord is against them that do evil.’ 
 Pillars his legs are here compared to, and pillars 
 were they that upheld this house, this tower, which 
 thus bravely w r as built with its face confronting the 
 enemy’s country. 
 
 Second. That this house of the forest of Lebanon 
 was a type of the church in affliction, yet further 
 appears, for that at the fall of Babylon her cedars 
 are said to rejoice in special. ‘ The fir-trees rejoice 
 at thee, and the cedars of Lebanon, saying , Since 
 thou art laid down, no feller is come up against us.’ 
 Is. xiv. 8. This is at the destruction of Babylon, the 
 type of that called antichrist. 
 
 But why should Lebanon, the cedars in Lebanon, 
 in an especial manner here, be said to rejoice at 
 his downfall: doubtless to show that as the enemy 
 made his inroad upon Jerusalem; so in a particular 
 manner Lebanon, and the house there, were made 
 to Smoke for it. Is. xxxvii. 24. Je. xxii. 23. Zee. xi. l. This 
 ansAvereth to that, ‘ Rejoice over her thou heaven; 
 and ye holy apostles and prophets, for God hath 
 avenged you of her.’ Hence again, when he speaks 
 of giving glory to his afflicted church, for all the 
 sorrow which she hath sustained in her bearing 
 witness for the truth against antichrist, he calls it 
 the glory of Lebanon. That is, as I take it, the 
 glory that belongs to her, for the afflictions which 
 she underwent for his name. ‘ The glory of Le¬ 
 banon shall be given unto it.’ Is. xxxv. 2 . And again, 
 ‘The glory of Lebanon shall come unto thee.’ Is. 
 lx. 13 . These are promises to the church for her 
 suffering of affliction, and they are made unto her 
 as she bears the name of Lebanon, who or which 
 was her type in those havocs made in it, when the 
 enemy, as I said, assaulted the church of old. 
 
 Thus by these few lines I have showed you that 
 there was a similitude betwixt this house in the forest 
 of Lebanon, and our gospel church in the wilderness. 
 Nor need we stumble because this word house is not 
 
 subjoined in every particular place, where this 
 sorrow or joy of Lebanon is made mention of; for 
 it is an usual thing with the Holy Ghost, when he 
 directs his speech to a man, to speak as if he 
 spake to a tree; and when he directs his voice to 
 a king, to speak as if he intended the kingdom; so 
 Avlien he speaks of the house, to speak as to the 
 forest of Lebanon. Instances many might be given. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 OF THE LARGENESS OF THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST 
 
 OF LEBANON. 
 
 The house of the forest of Lebanon was forty 
 
 * 
 
 cubits longer than was the temple at Jerusalem, to 
 show that the church in the wilderness would in¬ 
 crease more, and be far larger than she that had 
 peace and prosperity. And as it was forty cubits 
 longer, so it was thirty cubits wider, still showing 
 that every way she would abound. Hence they 
 that came out of great tribulation, when compared 
 with others, are said to be a numberless number, 
 or a multitude which no man could number, of all 
 nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues. 
 
 ‘ These,’ saitli one, ‘ are they which came out of 
 great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and 
 made them white in the blood of the Lamb; there¬ 
 fore are they before the throne of God. ’ Re. vii. 14 , 15 . 
 
 The church, as it respected temple-worship, was 
 confined to the land of Canaan ; but our New Tes¬ 
 tament persecuted one is scattered among the 
 nations, as a flock of sheep are scattered in a wood 
 or wilderness. Hence they are said to be in ‘ the 
 wilderness of the people,’ fitly answering to this 
 house of the forest of Lebanon. Eze. xx. 35 - 37 . 
 
 But though the house exceeded in length and 
 breadth the temple of Jerusalem, yet as to their 
 height they were the same, to show that what 
 acts that in the wilderness doth, above what they 
 have been capable to do, that have not been in that 
 condition; yet the nature of their grace is the same. 
 
 Ro. xv. 27. 1 Pe. i. 1. 
 
 But, I say, as for length and breadth, the church 
 in the wilderness exceeds more than the house of 
 the forest of Lebanon did that of the temple at 
 Jerusalem, as it is written; ‘ More are the children 
 of the desolate than the children of the married 
 wife, saith the Lord.’ And again: ‘Thou shalt 
 break forth on the right hand and on the left; and 
 thy seed shall inherit the Gentiles, and make the 
 desolate cities to be inhabited.’ is. liv. 1 - 3 . This i3 
 spoken of the church in the wilderness, that was 
 made up chiefly of the Gentiles, of which the house 
 of the forest of Lebanon was a figure; and how she 
 at last shall recover herself from the yoke and tyr¬ 
 anny of antichrist. And then she shall shoulder 
 it with her adversary, saying, ‘ Give place to mo, 
 that I may dwell.’ Is. xiix. 20 . 
 
TIIE HOUSE OE THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 516 
 
 And I will add, it was not only thus magnificent 
 for length and breadth, but for terror; it was 
 compacted after the manner of a castle, or strong¬ 
 hold, as was said before. It was a tower built for 
 an armoury, for Solomon put there his two hundred 
 targets and three hundred shields of gold. 2 Ch. ix. 
 15 , 16 . This place therefore was a terror to the 
 heathen, on that side of the church especially, 
 because she stood with her nose so formidable 
 against Damascus: no marvel therefore if the 
 implacable cried out against them, Help, ‘men of 
 Israel, help!’ And, ‘Will ye rebel against the 
 
 king?’ Ac. xxi. 28. Ne. ii. 19. 
 
 For it is the terror, or majesty and fortitude, 
 which God has put upon the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness, that makes the Gentiles so bestir them to 
 have her under foot. Besides, they misapprehend 
 concerning her, as if she was for destroying kings, 
 for subverting kingdoms, and for bringing all to 
 desolation, and so they set themselves against her, 
 ‘ crying, These that have turned the world upside 
 down are come hither also; whom Jason hath 
 received; and these all do contrary to the decrees 
 of Caesar, saying that there is another king, one 
 Jesus.’ Ac. xvii. 5 - 7 . Indeed, the very name of 
 Jesus is the very tower of the Christian church, 
 and that by which she frights the world, but not 
 designedly, but through their misunderstanding; 
 for neither she, nor her Jesus, is for doing them 
 any hurt; however, this is that which renders her 
 yet in their eye ‘ terrible as an army with banners.’ 
 Ca. vi. 10 . How then could she escape persecution 
 for a time, for it wa6 the policy of Jeroboam. iKi. 
 xii. 26 - 28 . And it is yet the policy of the nations 
 to secure themselves against this their imagined 
 danger, and therefore to use all means, as Pharaoh 
 did, to keep this people low enough, saying, ‘Come 
 on, let us deal wisely with them, lest they mul¬ 
 tiply, and it come to pass that when there falleth 
 out any war, they join also to our enemies, and 
 fight against us, and so get them up out of the 
 land.’ Ex. i. 10 . 
 
 But could the house of Lebanon, though a for¬ 
 tified place, assault Damascus? Could it remove 
 from the place on which God had set it? It only 
 was a place of defence for Judah, or for the wor¬ 
 ship of the temple. And had the adversary let 
 the temple-worship and worshippers alone, the 
 shields and targets in the house of the forest of 
 Lebanon had not been uncovered, had not been 
 made bare against them. The same may now be 
 said of the church in the wilderness, she moveth 
 no sedition, she abideth in her place; let her 
 temple-worshippers but alone, and she will be as if 
 she were not in the world; but if you afflict her, 
 
 ‘ Fire proceedeth out of tbeir mouth and devoureth 
 their enemies; and if any man will hurt them, he 
 must in this manner be killed.’ Re. xi. 5 . And so 
 
 die by the sword of the Spirit. But because the 
 weapons of the church, though none of them are 
 carnal, be so talked of in the world, the blind are 
 yet more afraid of her than they in this manner 
 are like to be hurt by her, and therefore they of 
 old have peeled, 1 and polled, and endeavoured to 
 spoil her all along, sending their servants, and 
 saying to their bailiffs and sheriffs, ‘ Go - to a 
 nation scattered and peeled, to a people terrible 
 from their beginning, - a nation meted out and 
 trodden down, whose land the rivers have spoiled!’ 
 Is. xviii. 2 . But this people shall prevail, though not 
 by worldly force ; her God will deliver her. And 
 then, or at ‘ that time, shall the present be brought 
 to the Lord of hosts of a people scattered and 
 peeled, and from a people terrible from their 
 beginning hitherto; a nation meted out and trodden 
 under foot, whose land the rivers have spoiled, to 
 the place of the name of the Lord of hosts, the 
 Mount Zion.’ is. xyiii. 7. 
 
 Now thus did the house of the forest of Lebanon 
 provoke; it was built defensively, it had a tower, 
 it had armour; its tower confronted the enemy’s 
 land. No marvel then, if the king of Assyria so 
 threatened to lay his army on the sides of Lebanon 
 and to cut down the tall cedars thereof, is. xxxvii. 24 . 
 
 The largeness, therefore, and prowess of the 
 church, by reason of her inherent fortitude and 
 the valorous acts that she hath done by suffering, 
 by prayer, by faith, and a constant enduring of 
 hardship for the truth, doth force into the world a 
 belief, through their own guilt and clamours of 
 conscience against them for their debaucheries, 
 that this house of the forest of Lebanon will destroy 
 them all when she shall be delivered from her ser¬ 
 vitude. ‘ Come now, therefore,’ saith Balak to 
 Balaam, and ‘curse me this people,’ if peradven¬ 
 ture I may overcome them: when he might have 
 let them pass peaceably by, and they would not 
 have lifted up a finger against him. Wherefore, 
 from all these things it appears that the house of 
 the forest of Lebanon was a type of the church in 
 the wilderness. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 OF THE MATERIALS OF WHICH THE HOUSE OF THE 
 FOREST OF LEBANON WAS MADE. 
 
 The foundation of the house of the forest of 
 Lebanon was of the same great stones which were 
 laid in the foundation of the temple of the Lord. 
 1 Ki. vii. 2 —ii. And this shows that the church in 
 the wilderness has the same foundation and sup¬ 
 port as had the temple that was at Jerusalem, 
 though in a state of sackcloth, tears, and afflic- 
 
 1 Pill, to rob; poll, to exact, to extort. ‘The church is 
 pilled and polled by its own flocks.’—(South, Ser. 11. v. 5.)— 
 (Ed.) 
 
E17 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON". 
 
 tion, the lot of the church in the wilderness; for 
 she, while there, is to howl. Zee. xi. 2 . Now since 
 the foundation is the same, what is it but to show 
 also that she, though in an afflicted condition, shall 
 certainly stand; ‘ The gates of hell shall not pre¬ 
 vail against it. ’ Mat. xvi. is. Her confronting idola¬ 
 trous nations is therefore a sign of her troubles, 
 not any prediction of a fall. Her rock is stead¬ 
 fast, not like the rock of her adversaries, the 
 enemy being judges. De. xxxii. 31 . 
 
 But that which in special I take notice of is, 
 that I find, in a manner, in this house of the forest 
 of Lebanon, nothing but pillars, and beams, great 
 timber, and thick beams, and of those was the 
 house builded; pillars to hold up, and thick beams 
 to couple together, and thus was the house finished. 
 I read not here of any garnishing, either of the 
 pillars, beams, doors, posts, walls, or any part of 
 the house; all was plain, without garnish, fitly 
 representing the state of the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness, which was clothed with sackcloth, covered 
 with ashes, wearing her mourning weeds, with her 
 tears upon her cheeks, and a yoke or band about 
 her neck. is. m. 1 , 2 ; lxi. 3 . 
 
 By this kind of description we may also note 
 with what kind of members this house, this church 
 is furnished. Here, as I said, that is, in the house 
 of the forest of Lebanon, you find pillars, pillars, 
 so in the church in the wilderness. 0 the mighty 
 ones of which this church was compacted! they 
 were all pillars, strong, bearing up the house 
 against wind and weather; nothing but fire and 
 sword could dissolve them. As therefore this 
 house was made up of great timber, so this church 
 in the wilderness was made up of giants in grace. 
 These men had the faces of lions; no prince, no 
 king, no threat, no terror, no torment, could make 
 them yield; they loved not their lives unto the 
 death. They have laughed their enemies in the 
 face, they have triumphed in the flames. 
 
 They were pillars, they were pillars of cedar : 
 the cedar is the highest tree in the world ; l where¬ 
 fore in that this house was made of cedar, it may 
 be to denote that in the church in the wilderness, 
 however contemned by men, was the highest per¬ 
 fection of goodness, as of faith, love, prayer, holy 
 conversation, and affection for God and his truth. 
 For indeed none ever showed the like, none ever 
 showed higher cedars than those that were in Leb¬ 
 anon. None ever showed higher saints than were 
 they in the church in the wilderness. Others 
 talked, these have suffered; others have said, these 
 have done ; these have voluntarily taken their lives 
 in their hands, for they loved them not to the death; 
 
 , 1 Maundrel measured a cedar which was thirty-six feet six 
 inches in girth, and one hundred and eleven feet in the spread 
 ot its boughs; the foliage is ever green, and it mounts up to 
 an enormous height. — (Em) 
 
 and have fairly, and in cool blood, laid them down 
 before the world, God, angels, and men, for the 
 confirming of the truth which they have professed. 
 Ac. xv. 26 . Re. xiL ii. These are pillars, these are 
 strong ones indeed. It is meet, therefore, that 
 the church in the wilderness, since she was to 
 resemble the house of the forest of Lebanon, should 
 be furnished with these mighty ones. 
 
 Cedars! the same that the holiest of all in the 
 temple was covered within, and that house was a 
 figure of heaven, to show that the church of God 
 in the wilderness, how base and low soever in the 
 judgment of the world, is yet the only heaven that 
 God hath among the children of men. Here are 
 many nations, many kingdoms, many countries, 
 and many cities, but the church in the wilderness 
 was but one, and she was the heaven that God has 
 here; hence she is called, ‘ Thou heaven. Rejoice 
 over her thou heaven. Re. xviii. 20 . And again, 
 when the combustion for religion is in the church 
 
 in the wilderness it is said to be in heaven_‘ And 
 
 there was war in heaven. Michael and his angels 
 fought against the dragon ; and the dragon fought, 
 and his angels.’ Re. xii. 7 . 
 
 The church therefore loseth not all her titles of 
 honour, no, not when at the lowest, she is God’s 
 heaven still; though she may not be called now a 
 crown of glory, yet she is still God’s lily amongst 
 thorns; though she may not be called the church 
 of Jerusalem, yet she may the church in the wil¬ 
 derness ; and though she may not be called Solo¬ 
 mon s temple, yet she may the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon. Cedars! cedars are tall and sweet, 
 and so are the members of the church in the 
 wilderness. 0 their smell, their scent, it hath 
 been as the wine of Lebanon.’ Ho. xiv. 5 — 7 , They 
 that have gone before have left this smell still in 
 the nostrils of their survivors, as that both fragrant 
 and precious. 
 
 This house of the forest of Lebanon was builded 
 ‘ upon four rows of cedar pillars. ’ 1 Ki. vii. 2 . These 
 four rows were the bottom pillars, those upon which 
 the whole weight of the house did bear. The Holy 
 Ghost saith here four rows, but says not how many 
 were in a row. But we will suppose them to allude 
 to the twelve apostles, or to the apostles and pro¬ 
 phets, upon whose foundation the church in the 
 wilderness is said to be built. Ep. ii. 20 . And if so, 
 then it shows that as the house of the forest of 
 Lebanon stood upon these four rows of pillars, as 
 the names of the twelve tribes stood in four rows 
 of precious stones upon Aaron’s breastplate when 
 he went into the holiest, so this house, or church 
 in the wilderness, stands upon the doctrine of the 
 apostles and prophets. Ex. xxviii. 17 ; xxxix. 10 . But 
 because it only saith it stood upon four rows, not 
 specifying any number, therefore as to this we may 
 say nothing certain, yet I think such a conjecture 
 
518 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 bath some show of truth in it, however, I will leave 
 it to wiser judgments. 
 
 ‘ And it was covered Avith cedar above, upon the 
 beams that lay on forty-five pillars, fifteen in a 
 row.’ 1 Ki. vii. 3 . These pillars, as the others, are 
 such upon which the house did also bear; this is 
 clear, because the beams that lay upon the four 
 rows of pillars afore-mentioned lay also upon these 
 forty-five. 
 
 It seems, therefore, that these four rows of pil¬ 
 lars were they that were the more outside ones; 
 that is, two rows on this side of the house and two 
 rows also on that; and that those forty-five pillars, 
 fifteen in a row, stood in three rows more inward, 
 and so did hear up with the other the beams that 
 were laid upon them, much like to those inner 
 pillars that usually stand in our parish churches. 
 If so, then the first four rows did seem to he a 
 guard to these, for that, as they stood more to the 
 outsides of the house, so more to the weather, and 
 nearer to the first approach of the enemy. 
 
 And this may show that the apostles in their 
 doctrine are not only a foundation to the forty-five 
 pillars, but a protection and defence; I say a pro¬ 
 tection and defence to all the pillars that ever were 
 besides in the church in the wilderness. And it 
 is to he considered that the four rows are men¬ 
 tioned as placed first, and so were those upon 
 which the thick beams that first were for coupling 
 of the house were laid; the which most fitly 
 teacheth that the office and graces of the apostles 
 were first in the church in the wilderness, accord¬ 
 ing to 1 Co. xii. IS. 
 
 These forty-five pillars standing in the midst, 
 by the others, may also be to show that in the 
 time of the trouble of the church in her wilderness 
 state, there will be those that will stand by and 
 maintain her apostolical doctrine, though for so 
 doing they bear the burthen of the whole. But I 
 read of no chambers for ease or rest in this house, 
 here is no room for chambering. They that were 
 for being members in the church in the wilderness, 
 must not look for rest until their Lord shall come. 
 
 Ro. xiii. 13, 14. 2 Th. i. 5-9. 
 
 Here therefore was but hard lodging; the house 
 of. the forest of Lebanon was not made for tender 
 skins and for those that cannot lie out of down 
 beds, but for those that were war-like men, and 
 that were willing to endure hardness for that re¬ 
 ligion that God had set up in his temple, and is 
 fitly anwered by that of the apostle: ‘ Thou, there¬ 
 fore,’ my son, ‘endure hardness as a good soldier 
 of Jesus Christ. No man that warretli entangletli 
 himself with the affairs of this life, that he may 
 please him who hath chosen him to be a soldier.’ 
 2 Ti. ii. 3 , 4 . Forty-five pillars! It was forty-five 
 years that the church was of old in a bewildered 
 and warlike condition before she enjoyed her rest 
 
 in Canaan. Jos. xiv. 10 . Now, as there were forty- 
 five years of trouble, so here are forty-five pillars 
 for support, perhaps to intimate that God will have 
 in his church in the wilderness a sufficient succes¬ 
 sion of faithful men that, like pillars, shall bear up 
 the truth above water all the time of Antichrist s 
 reign and rage. 
 
 The thick beams that lay over-thwart to couple 
 this house of the forest of Lebanon together, did 
 bear upon these forty-five pillars, to show that, by 
 the burden-bearers that have and shall be in the 
 church of God in the wilderness, the unity of that 
 house is through the Spirit maintained. And in¬ 
 deed, had it not been for these pillars, the sufferers, 
 these burden-bearers in the church, our house in 
 the forest of Lebanon, or, more properly, our church 
 in the wilderness, had before this been but in a 
 poor condition. Thus therefore this church, which 
 in her time is the pillar and ground of truth in 
 the world, has been made to stand and abide it. 
 
 ‘ When the blast of the terrible ones has been as 
 a storm against the wall.’ is.xxv.4. l Ti.m.is. ‘ Many 
 a time have they afflicted me from my youth, may 
 Israel now say: many a time have they afflicted 
 me from my youth: yet they have not prevailed 
 against me.’ Ps. cxxix. i, 2 . 
 
 Thus you see how the house of the forest of 
 Lebanon was a type of the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness ; and you see also by this the reason why the 
 house of the forest of Lebanon had its inward glory 
 lying more in great pillars and thick beams than 
 in other ornaments. And indeed, here had need 
 be pillars and pillars and beams and beams too, 
 since it was designed for assaults to be made upon 
 it, since it was set for a butt for the marksman, 
 and to be an object for furious heathens to spend 
 their rage against its walls. 
 
 The glory therefore of the temple lay in one 
 thing, and the glory of this house lay in another: 
 the glory of the temple lay in that she contained 
 the true form and modes of worship, and the glory 
 of the house of the forest of Lebanon lay in her 
 many pillars and thick beams, by which she was 
 made capable, through good management, to give 
 check to those of Damascus when they should 
 attempt to throw down that worship. 
 
 And as I said before, these pillars were sweet- 
 scented pillars, for that they were made of cedar; 
 but what cared the enemy for that, they were of¬ 
 fensive to him, for that they were placed as a for¬ 
 tification against him. Nor is it any allurement 
 to Satan to favour the mighty ones in the church 
 in the wilderness for the fragrant smell of their 
 sweet graces, nay, both he and his angels are the 
 more bent to oppose them because they are so 
 sweet-scented. The cedars therefore got nothing 
 because they were cedars at the hands of the bar¬ 
 barous Gentiles—for they would burn the cedars 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 —as the angels or pillars get nothing of favour at 
 the hands of Antichrist because they are pillars of 
 and angels for the truth, yea, they so much the 
 more by her are abhorred. Well, but they arc 
 pillars for all that, yea, pillars to the church in 
 the wilderness, as the others were in the house of 
 tue forest of Lebanon, and pillars they will abide 
 there, dead and alive, when the enemy has done 
 what he can. 
 
 The pillars were set in three rows, for so are 
 forty-five when they are set fifteen in a row. And 
 they were set in three rows to bear. This manner 
 also of their standing thus was also doubtless sig¬ 
 nificant. But again, they, these pillars, may be 
 set, or placed thus in three rows in the house of 
 the forest of Lebanon, to show' that the three offices 
 of Christ are the great things that the church in 
 the wilderness must bear up before the world. 
 
 The three offices of Christ, they are his priestly, 
 his prophetical, and his kingly offices. These are 
 those in which God’s glory and the church’s sal¬ 
 vation are most immediately concerned, and thev 
 that have been most opposed by the devil and his 
 angels. All heresies, errors, and delusions with 
 which Christ s church has been assaulted in all 
 ages, have bent themselves against some one or 
 all of these. Re. xvi. 13 , ie. Christ is a priest to 
 save, a prophet to teach, and a king to rule his 
 church, is. xxxiii. 22 . But this Antichrist- cannot 
 bear, therefore he attempts to get up into the throne 
 himself, and to act as if he were one above all that 
 is called God, or that is worshipped. 2 tr. ii. 3 , 4 . 
 Re. xix. 19 - 21 . But behold! here are pillars in three 
 rows, mighty pillars to bear up Christ in these his 
 offices before the world and against all falsehood 
 and deceit. 
 
 Fifteen in a row, I can say no further than I 
 can see ; what the number of fifteen should signify 
 1 know not, God is wiser than man; but yet rue- 
 thinks their standing thus should signify a reserve; 
 as suppose the first three that the enemy comes at 
 should be destroyed by their hands, there are three 
 times fourteen behind; suppose again that they 
 should serve the next three so, yet there is a 
 reserve behind. When that fine one, Jezebel, had 
 done what she could against the afflicted church 
 in her time, yet there was left a reserve, a reserve 
 of seven thousand that were true worshippers of 
 
 God. 1 Ki. xix. 18. Ro. xi. 4. 
 
 Always when Antichrist made his inroads upon 
 the church in the wilderness, to slay, to cut off, 
 and to kill, yet some of the pillars stood, they 
 'vere not all burnt in the fire, nor cut down. They 
 said indeed, ‘ Come and let us cut them off from 
 being a nation, that the name of Israel may be no 
 more in remembrance.’ Ps. lxxxiii. 4 . But what then? 
 there is a difference betwixt saying and doing; the 
 bush w r as not therefore consumed because it was 
 
 519 
 
 set on fire; the church shall not be consumed 
 although she be afflicted. Ex. in. 3 . And this reason 
 is, because God has still his fifteens; therefore it 
 Abel falls by the hand of Cain, Seth is put in his 
 place. Ge. iv. 25 . If Moses is taken away, Joshua 
 shall succeed him. Jos. i. 2 , 3 . And if the devil 
 break the neck of Judas, Matthias is at hand to 
 take his office. Ac. i. 16-26. God has, I say, a suc¬ 
 cession of pillars in his house ; he has to himself a 
 reserve. 
 
 Yet again, methinks that there should be forty- 
 five pillars, and besides them four rows of pillars, 
 and all this to bear up an invisible burden, for we 
 read of nothing upon the pillars but the heavens 
 and roof. It should be to show that it is impos¬ 
 sible that a carnal heart should conceive of the 
 weight that truth lays upon the conscience of a 
 believer. They see, nothing, alas, nothing at all, 
 but a beam, a truth, and, say they, are you such 
 fools to stand groaning to bear up that, or w r hat is 
 contained therein? They, I say, see not the 
 weight, the glory, the w T eight of glory that is in a 
 truth of God, and therefore they laugh at them 
 that will count it worth the while to endure so 
 much to support it from falling to the ground. 1 
 Great pillars and beams, great saints and great 
 truths, are in the church of God in the wilderness; 
 and the beams lie upon the pillars, or the truth 
 upon the saints. 
 
 The tabernacle and ark formerly were to be 
 borne upon men’s shoulders, even as these great 
 beams are borne up by these pillars. And as this 
 tabernacle and ark were to be carried hither and 
 thither, according to the appointment of God, so 
 were these beams to be by these pillars borne up, 
 that therewith the house might be girt together, 
 kept uniform, and made to stand fast, notwith¬ 
 standing the wind and storm. 
 
 CHAP. Y. 
 
 OF THE WINDOWS IN THE HOUSE OF TIIE FOREST OF 
 
 LEBANON. 
 
 The house of the forest of Lebanon had many 
 windows in it; ‘ And there were windows in three 
 rows, and light was against light in three ranks.’ 
 
 1 Ki. vii. 4 . Windows are to let the light in at, and 
 the eye out at, to objects at a distance from the 
 house, and from those that are therein. 
 
 1 It is one of the strongest proofs that the human mind is 
 disordered by sin, that man is by nature senseless to the 
 sublime truths of Christianity—the beam, the truth which 
 saves the world from utter moral desolation. AY hat winders 
 open before the eyes of the young convert, stretching far 
 away into that heavenly and eternal felicity wfiich had been 
 shut out from his vision by the gloom of death! Life and im¬ 
 mortality is brought to light. His life, and all other things, 
 become but dross, that he may win Christ, and maintain his 
 cause in the world.— (Ed.) 
 
520 
 
 THE HOUSE OE THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 The windows here are figures of the Word of God, 
 by which light the light of life is let into the heart; 
 through that, the glass of these windows, the beams 
 of the Sun of righteousness shine into the church. 
 Hence the word is compared to glass, through 
 which the glorious face of Christ is seen. 2 Co. iii. 18 . 
 This, therefore, this house of the forest of Lebanon 
 had; it had windows, a figure of that Word of God, 
 through, and by which, the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness sees the mind of God, and so what while there 
 she ought to believe, do, and leave undone in the 
 world. ^ 
 
 This house had plenty of windows—three rows 
 of windows on both sides the house. In three 
 rows; by these windows in three rows perhaps was 
 prefigured how into the church in the wilderness 
 was to shine the doctrine of the Trinity: yea, to 
 signify that she was to be possessed with that in 
 her most low state, and when under her greatest 
 clouds. The doctrine of the Trinity ! that is the 
 substance, that is the ground and fundamental of all. 
 
 1 Jn. ii. 22 , 23; iv. 2 -4. 2 Jn. 9 , io. For by this doctrine, 
 and by this only, the man is made a Christian; and 
 he that has not this doctrine, his profession is not 
 worth a button. You must know that sometimes the 
 church in the wilderness has but little light, but the 
 diminution of her light is not then so much in or 
 as to substantials, as it is as to circumstantial 
 things; she has then the substantials with her, in 
 her darkest day, even windows in three rows. 
 
 The doctrine of the Trinity ! You may ask me 
 what that is ? I answer. It is that doctrine that 
 showeth us the love of God the Father, in giving 
 of his Son: the love of God the Son, in giving of 
 himself; and the love of the Lord the Spirit, in his 
 work of regenerating of us, that we may be made 
 able to lay hold of the love of the Father by his 
 Son, and so enjoy eternal life by grace. This doc¬ 
 trine was always let in at these windows into the 
 church in the wilderness, for to make her sound in 
 faith, and hearty in obedience; as also meek and 
 patient in temptation and tribulation. And as to 
 the substance of Christianity, this doctrine is suf¬ 
 ficient for any people, because it teaches faith, and 
 produceth a good moral life. These therefore, if 
 these doctrines shine upon us, through these win¬ 
 dows of heaven, so as that we see them, and re¬ 
 ceive them, they make us fit to glorify God here, 
 and meet to be glorified of, and with him hereafter. 
 These lights, therefore, cause that the inhabitants 
 of this church in the wilderness see their way 
 through the dark pitch night of this world. For 
 as the house of the forest of Lebanon, this church 
 of God in the wilderness had always her lights, or 
 windows in these three rows, to guide, to solace, 
 and comfort her. 
 
 This house therefore, is thus discriminated and 
 distinguished from all other houses in the world; 
 
 no house, that we read of in the Bible, was thus 
 adorned with light, or had windows in three rows, 
 but this; and answerable hereunto, no congregation 
 or church, but the true church of God, has the 
 true antitype thereof. Light! windows ! A suf¬ 
 ficiency of windows was of great use to a people 
 that dwelt in a forest, or wood, as the inhabitants 
 of the house of the forest of Lebanon did. But 
 how solitary had this house been, had it had no 
 light at all ! To be in a wood, and that without 
 windows, is one of the worst of conditions. This 
 also is the relief that the church in the wilderness 
 had; true, she was in a wood, but had light, called 
 in another place God’s rod, or his Word, which giv- 
 eth instruction. * Feed thy people with thy rod, 
 the flock of thine heritage, which dwell solitary in 
 
 the W00d,’ &C. Mi. vii. 14. 
 
 To be, as was said, in a wood, and without light 
 too, is a condition very desolate : the Egyptians 
 found it so, for all they were in their houses. Ex. 
 x. 21 , 23 . But how much more then is that people’s 
 case to be lamented that are under persecution, but 
 have not light in three rows to guide them. But 
 this is not the state of the church in the wilderness; 
 she has her windows in three rows, to wit, the light 
 of the face of the Father, the light of the face of 
 the Son, and the light of the face of the Holy 
 Ghost; all shining through the windows or glass of 
 the Word, to her comfort and consolation, though 
 now in the forest of Lebanon. 
 
 ‘And light was against lighten three ranks.’ 
 This is an additional account of the windows that 
 were in the house of the forest of Lebanon. Be¬ 
 fore he said she had windows in three rows, but 
 now he adds that there was light against light, 
 light opposite to light, and that also in three ranks. 
 In that he saith they were in ranks, he either 
 means in order, or insinuates a military posture, for 
 in both these ways is this word taken. No. ii. 16, 24. 
 1 Ch. xii. 33 , 38. Mar. vi. 40. Nor need any smile because 
 I say the lights were set in a military posture; we 
 read of potsherds striving with potsherds; and why 
 may it not as well be said, ‘ light was against light. ’ 
 
 Is. xlv. 9. 
 
 But we will pursue our design. Here is opposi¬ 
 tion insinuated; in the margin it is ‘ sight against 
 sight;’ wherefore the lights thus placed in the 
 house of the forest of Lebanon give me another 
 encouragement, to think that this house was a type 
 of the church in the wilderness, and that she is the 
 seat of spiritual war also. Re. xii. 7. For as this 
 house of the forest of Lebanon was that which was 
 the object of the rage of the king of Assyria, be¬ 
 cause it stood in his way to hinder his ruining 
 Jerusalem; so the spirit and faithfulness of the 
 church of God in the wilderness stands in the way, 
 and hinders Antichrist’s bringing of the truth to 
 the ground. 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 521 
 
 And as the enemy brake into Lebanon, and did 
 set fire to her cedars, so the boar, the Antichrist, 
 the dragon, and his angels, got into the church in 
 the wilderness. rs. ixxx. 13. 2 Th. ii 4. Re. xii. 7. This 
 being so, here must needs be war; and since the 
 war is not carnal but spiritual, it must be made by 
 way of controversy, contention, disputation, argu¬ 
 ment, reasonings, <fcc. which were the effect of op¬ 
 posite apprehensions, fitly set out in this house of 
 the forest of Lebanon, for that there was ‘ light 
 against light, ‘ sight against sight, ’ in three ranks, 
 h herefore in that he saith * light was against 
 light in three ranks,’ he suggesteth, to the life, how 
 it would be in the church in the wilderness. And 
 suppose they were the truly godly that made the 
 fiist assault, can they be blamed ? For who can 
 endure a boar in a vineyard ; a man of sin in a 
 holy temple; or a dragon in heaven ? What then 
 if the church made the fii st assault ? Who bid the 
 boar come there ? What had he to do in God’s 
 house ? The church, as the house of the forest of 
 Lebanon, would have been content with its own 
 station; and bread and water will serve a man, that 
 may with peace enjoy his delights in other things. 
 But when privilege, property, life, delight, heaven, 
 and salvation, comes to be intruded, no marvel if 
 tue woman, though but a woman, cries out, and 
 set her light against them; had she seen the thief, 
 and said nothing, she had been far worse. 
 
 I told you before that by the windows is meant 
 the Word, which is compared to glass. 1C0. xiii. 12. 
 
 2 Co. iii. is. Ja. i. 23—25. What, then, is the Word against 
 the W ord? No, verily, it is therefore not the Word, 
 but opposite apprehensions thereabout, that the 
 Holy Ghost now intends; for he saith not that 
 window was against window, respecting the true 
 sense of the Word, but light was against light, re¬ 
 specting the divers notions and apprehensions that 
 men of opposite spirits would have about the Word. 
 Nor are we to take this word light, especially in 
 the antitype, in a proper but in a metaphorical 
 sense, that is, with respect to the judgment of both 
 parties. Here is the true church, and she has the 
 true light; here also is the boar, the man of sin, 
 and the dragon; and they see by their way, and 
 yet, as I said, all by the self-same windows. They 
 that are the church do, in God’s light, see light; 
 but they that are not, do in their own way see. 
 And let a man, and a beast, look out at the same 
 window, the same door, the same casement, yet 
 the one will see like a man, and the other but like 
 a beast. No marvel then, though they have the 
 tame windows, that ‘light is against light,’ and 
 sight against sight in this house. For there are 
 that know nothing but what they know naturally 
 as brutes. Ps. xcii. 6 . Je. x. S, 14 , 21 . Jude 10. 
 
 No marvel then if there is here a disagreement; 
 the beast can but see as a beast, but the church is 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 resolved not to be guided by the eye of a beast, 
 though he pretends to have his light by that very 
 window by which the church has hers. The beast 
 is moon-eyed, and puts darkness for light, yea, and 
 hates the light that is so indeed ; l but the saints 
 will not hear him, for they know the voice of their 
 Lord. is. v. 20 . Jn. iii. 20. How then can it be but 
 that light should be against light in this house, and 
 that in a military posture ? And how can it be 
 but that here ‘every battle of the warrior’ should 
 be ‘ with confused noise, and garments rolled in 
 blood.’ Is. ix. 5 . 
 
 And in that he saith, ‘ light was against light in 
 three ranks, it shows their preparations one against 
 another; also that they on both sides are resolved 
 to stand by their way. The church is confident, 
 the man of sin is confident; they both have the 
 same windows to see by, and so they manage their 
 matters; yet not so simply by the windows, as by 
 their divers judgments they make of that which 
 shineth in at them. Each one therefore hath the 
 true and false profession, will be confident of his 
 own way; he that was right, knew he was right; 
 aud he that was wrong, thought he was right, and 
 so the battle began. ‘ There is a way that seem- 
 eth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the 
 ways of death.’ p r . xiv. 12 . 
 
 Nor is it in man to help it; there has been reason¬ 
 ing, there has been disputing, there has blood also 
 been spilt on both sides, through the confidence 
 that each had of the goodness of his own way; but 
 no reconciliation is made, the enmity is set here of 
 God; iron and clay cannot mix. Ge. iii. 15 . Da. ii. 42 , 43 . 
 God will have things go on thus in the world, till 
 his words shall be fulfilled: ‘ The deceived, and 
 the deceiver, are his.’ Jobxii. is. Things therefore 
 must have their course in the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness, till the mystery of God shall be fulfilled. Re. 
 
 xvii. 17. 
 
 Hence it is said God will bring Gog against his 
 people of Israel, ‘as a cloud to cover the land.’ 
 Eze. xxxviii. 16. But for what cause ? Why, that he 
 may contend a while with them, and then fall by 
 their light to the ground. Therefore he says also, 
 that he ‘ will give unto Gog a place there of graves 
 in Israel, and it shall be called the valley of Hainon- 
 
 gOg. ’ Eze. xxxix. 11. 
 
 God will get himself great glory by permitting 
 the boar, the man of sin, aud the dragon, to revel 
 it in the cliurcii of God; for they, by setting up 
 and contending for their darkness and calling of 
 
 1 All men have the same Bible, hut all have not sought for 
 spiritual discernment. The Beast, whether of Rome, Greece, 
 or England, that looks through the Word to find some plaus¬ 
 ible means of tyrannising over the soul, by preventing man 
 from using his own eyes in seeking salvation, whether it be by 
 church canons or acts of Parliament interfering with the exer¬ 
 cise of private judgment, is an enemy to, and hater of, the true 
 light.—(E d.) 
 
 66 
 
522 
 
 THE HOUSE OE THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 it the light, and by setting of it against that light, 
 which is light in very deed, do not only prove the 
 power of truth where it is, hut illustrate it so much 
 the more. For as black sets off white, and dark¬ 
 ness light, so error sets off truth. He that calls 
 a man a horse, doth in conclusion but fix the belief 
 of his humanity 1 so much the more in the appre¬ 
 hension of all rational creatures. 
 
 ‘ Lio-ht against light in three ranks.’ The three 
 ranks on the church’s side signify her light in the 
 Trinity, as was said, and in the three offices of 
 Christ; and the ranks against these three ranks be 
 to signify the opposite apprehensions of the enemy. 
 They differ also about the authority of the Word, 
 and ordinances, about the offices, officers, and exe¬ 
 cutions of office, in the church, &c. There is an 
 opposition everywhere, even round about the house; 
 there was ‘ light against light in three ranks.’ 
 This house of the forest of Lebanon was therefore 
 a significative thing, wisely built and fit for the 
 purpose for which it was designed, which was to 
 show what afterward would be the state of the 
 church in the wilderness. Nor could anything in 
 the temple more aptly express itself in a typical 
 way, as to any of the things concerning New Testa¬ 
 ment matters, than doth this house of the forest of 
 Lebanon, as to the things designed to be signified 
 thereby. It speaks, can we but hear: it points to 
 things, as it were with a finger, have we but eyes 
 to see. 
 
 It is not therefore to be wondered at that we 
 hear both parties plead so much for their authority, 
 crying out against each other, as those that destroy 
 religion. So doth the church, so doth the man of 
 sin. The living child is mine, saith one; nay, but 
 the dead child is thine, and the living child is mine, 
 says the other. And thus they spake before the 
 king. 1 Ki. iii. I 6 - 22 . Now this could not be, were 
 there not different apprehensions here; light against 
 light then is the cause of all this; and here is ‘light 
 against light in three ranks;’ and so will be until 
 the beast is dead. 
 
 The church will not give place, for she knows 
 she has the truth; the dragon and his angels, they 
 will not give place, but as beaten back by the power 
 of the truth; for thus it is said of the dragon and 
 his angels, they fought and prevailed not. There¬ 
 fore there will, there must, there cannot but be a 
 spiritual warfare here, and that until one of the 
 two are destroyed, and their body given to the 
 burning flame. Da. vii. li. Re. xix. 20 . 
 
 1 Humanity, in its usual acceptation, means the inferiority 
 of man to the divine or angelic nature, but superiority to the 
 mere animal or brute creation. ‘The nature of man, wherein 
 he is lesse than God Almighty, and exccllynge not with- 
 standyng al other creatures in erth, is called humanitie.’ 
 —(Sir T. Eliot.) Bunyan’s illustration of the word is 
 curious.—(E d.) 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 OF THE DOORS AND POSTS, AND THEIR SQUARE, WITH 
 
 THE WINDOWS OF THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF 
 
 Lebanon. 
 
 ‘ And all the doors and posts were square, with 
 the windows.’ The doors, they were for entrance, 
 the posts were the support of the doors, and the 
 windows were, as was hinted before, for light. Now 
 here they are said to be all square; square is a 
 note of perfection; but this word square may be 
 taken two ways. 1. Either as to the fashion of 
 the things themselves; or, 2. With reference to 
 the uniform order of the whole. 
 
 In the first sense was the altar of burnt-offering, 
 the altar of incense, and the breastplate of judg¬ 
 ment, square. Ex. xxvii. 1 ; xxviii. 16; xxx. 2 . And so also 
 it is said of our New Testament New Jerusalem. 
 Re. xxi. 16 . But the square in the text is not thus to 
 be understood, but if I mistake not, as is signified 
 under the second head, that is for an uniform order. 
 The whole fabric, as the doors, posts, and windows, 
 presented themselves to beholders in an exact uni¬ 
 form order, and so right delectable to behold. 
 Hence we may gather that this house of the forest 
 of Lebanon was so exactly built, and consequently 
 so complete to view, that it was alluring to the be¬ 
 holders ; and that the more, for that so pretty a 
 fabric should be found in a forest or wood. A lily 
 among thorns, a pearl on a dunghill, and beauty 
 under a veil, will make one turn aside to look on it. 
 
 Answerable to this, the church, even in the wil¬ 
 derness, or under persecution, is compared not only 
 to a woman, but to a comely and delicate woman. 
 And who, that shall meet such a creature in a wood, 
 unless he feared God, but would seek to ravish and 
 defile her. 
 
 Therefore I say, that which is here said to be 
 square, must be understood to be so, as to prospect 
 and view, or right taking to the eye. 
 
 Thus therefore they are allured, and think to 
 defile her in the bed of love; but coming to her, and 
 finding of her chaste, and filled with nothing but 
 armour, and men at arms, to maintain her chastity, 
 nolens volens —their fleshly love is turned into cruel 
 rage, and so they go to variance. 
 
 ‘I have likened,’ says God, ‘the daughter of 
 Zion to a comely and delicate woman.' Je. vi. 2 . But 
 where is she ? 0 ! she is in the field, in the forest 
 
 among the shepherds. But what will they do with 
 her? Why, because she complies not with their 
 desires, they ‘prepare war against her,’ saying, 
 ‘ Arise, let us go up at noon. Arise, and let us go 
 by night, and let us destroy her palaces.’ Je. vi. 4 , a 
 Wherefore the beauty of the house of the forest of 
 Lebanon, as well as the fortitude thereof, was a 
 temptation to the enemy to come to take it into 
 their possession; especially since it stood, as it were, 
 
THE HOUSE OE THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 523 
 
 on the borders of Israel, and so faced the enemy’s 
 country. 
 
 Thus the church, though in her weeds of widow¬ 
 hood, is become the desire of the eyes of the nations; 
 for indeed her features are such, considering who is 
 her head, where mostly to the eye beauty lies, that 
 whoso sees but the utmost glimpse of her, is easily 
 ravished with her beauties. See how the prophet 
 words it—‘ Many nations are gathered together 
 against thee, that say, Let her be defiled, and let 
 our eye look upon Zion.’ ml iv. 11 . 
 
 The church, the very name of the church of God, 
 is beautiful in the world; and, as among women, 
 she that has beauty has her head desired, if it 
 might be, to stand upon another woman’s shoulders; 
 so this, and that, and every nation that beholds 
 the beauty of the church, would fain be called by 
 that name. The church, one would think, was but 
 in a homely dress when she was coming out of cap- 
 tivity; and yet then the people of the countries 
 desired to be one with her. * Let us (said they to 
 Zerubbabel, and to the fathers of the church) build 
 with you, for we seek your God as ye do' Ezr. iv. 2 . 
 
 The very name of the church, as I said, is striven 
 for of the world, but that is the church which 
 Christ has made so; her features also remain with 
 herself, as this comely prospect of the house of the 
 1 orest of Lebanon abode with it, whoever beheld 
 or wished for it. The beauty therefore of this house, 
 though it stood in the forest, was admirable; even 
 as is the beauty of the church in the wilderness, 
 though in a bewildered state. 
 
 Hear the relation that the Holy Ghost gives of 
 the intrinsic beauty of the church, when she was to 
 go to be in a persecuted state; she was ‘ clothed 
 Avitli the sun, and the moon under her feet, and upon 
 her head a crown of twelve stars.’ Re. xii. 1 . And 
 yet now the dragon stood by her. Re. xii. 4 . But 
 I say, Here is a woman! let who will attempt it, 
 show such another in the world, if he can. 1 
 
 They therefore that have any regard to moral¬ 
 ity, civility, or to ceremonial comeliness, covet to 
 be of the church of God, or to appropriate that 
 glorious title to themselves. And here, indeed, 
 Antichrist came in ; she took this name to herself; 
 and though she could not come at the sun, nor moon, 
 nor stars, to adorn herself with them, yet she has 
 lound something that makes her comely in her fol¬ 
 lowers’ eyes. See how the Holy Ghost sets her 
 lorth. She ‘was arrayed in purple and scarlet 
 colour, and decked with gold and precious stones, 
 and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand,’ &c. 
 
 1 A common mode of picturing the virgin Mary for the 
 devotee of Popery to worship, is a whole length beautiful 
 woman, with rays as of the sun shooting out all round her, 
 standing upon the moon, and upon her head a splendid crown 
 ornamented with twelve stars. Under such a disguise, who 
 would expect to find ‘ the well-favoured harlot establishing a 
 throne for Satan?’— (Ed.) 
 
 Re. xvii. 4 . Hence she is called, ‘ The well-favoured 
 harlot,’ ‘ the lady of kingdoms,’ ho. Na. iii. 4 . is. xivii. 
 6, 7. 
 
 But because the chaste matron, the spouse of 
 Christ, would not allow this slut to run away with 
 this name, therefore she gets upon the back of her 
 beast, and by him pushes this woman into the dirt; 
 but because her faith and love to her husband re¬ 
 mains, she turns again, and pleads by her titles, 
 her features, and ornaments, that she, and she only, 
 is she whose square answereth to the square of her 
 figure, and to the characters which her Lord hath 
 given of his own, and so the game began. For so 
 soon as this mistress became a dame in the world, 
 and found that she had her stout abettors, she at¬ 
 tempts to turn all things topsy-turvy, and to set 
 them and to make of them what she lists. And 
 now she will have an altar like that which was 
 Tiglath-pileser’s. Now must the Lord’s brazen 
 altar be removed from its place, the borders of the 
 basis must be cut off, and the laver removed from 
 off them; the molten sea must also now be taken 
 off the backs of the brazen oxen, where Solomon 
 set it, and be set on a pavement of stone. 2 Ki. 
 
 xvi. 10—17. 
 
 Solomon! alas, Solomon’s nobody now; this 
 woman is wiser in her own conceit than seven men 
 that can render a reason. Now also the covert for 
 the Sabbath must be turned to the use of the king 
 of Assyria, &c. 2 Ki. xvi. is. Thus has the beauty of 
 God’s church betrayed her into the hands of her 
 lovers, who loved her for themselves, for the devil, 
 and for the making of her a seat, a throne for the 
 man of sin. And poor woman, all her struggling 
 and striving, and crying out under the hands of 
 these ravishers, has not, as yet, delivered her, 
 though it has saved her life. De. xxii. 25-27. 
 
 But though thus it has been with Christ’s true 
 church, and will be as long as his enemy Antichrist 
 reigns, yet the days will come when her God will 
 give her her ornaments, and her bracelets, and her 
 liberty, and her joy, that she had in the day of her 
 espousals. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 OF THE REPETITION OF LIGHT AGAINST LIGHT IN THE 
 HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 To be sure it was not superfluously done of the 
 Holy Ghost to make repetition of these words, 
 ‘And light was against light in three ranks,’ 
 therefore something is intended in the adding of 
 them again that was not intended by the first 
 mentioning of them. 1 Ki. vii. 4 , 5 . 
 
 I have told you what 1 thought was intended by 
 the first rehearsal of them, namely, to show how 
 Antichrist got in with his sensuality, aud opposed it 
 to the true light of the Word of God, exalting him- 
 
524 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 
 self above God, and also above all Divine revela¬ 
 tion j this was his light against light. But, I say, 
 why is it repeated? For he saith, ‘Light was 
 against light in three ranks ’ again. Truly, I 
 think it is repeated to show the evil effects the 
 first antichristian opposition would have in the 
 church of God, towards the end of her wilderness 
 state. For, ‘light against light’ now, for that 
 it is here repeated, is to show us some new thing', 
 or, as far as wood and windows can speak, to let 
 us understand what would be the consequence of 
 those antichristian figments 1 that were brought 
 into the churcti at first by him. 
 
 For can it be imagined but that, since so much 
 confusion was brought into the church, some of 
 the truly godly themselves would be much damni¬ 
 fied thereby? The apostle says, ‘ Evil communi¬ 
 cation corrupts good manners.’ i Co. xv. 33 . And 
 that ‘their word will eat as doth a canker.’ Hi. 
 ii. 17 . Mischief therefore must needs follow this 
 ugly deed of the man of sin. If a house be on 
 fire, though it is not burnt down, the smell of the 
 flame may long remain there; also we count it no 
 wonder to see some of the effects upon the rafters, 
 beams, and some of the principal posts thereof. 
 The calf that was set up at Dan defiled that 
 people until the captivity of the land. Ju. xviii. 30 . 
 
 And I say again, since light against light was 
 so early in the church in the wilderness, and has 
 also been there so long, and again, since many in 
 this church were both born and bred there under 
 these oppositions of light, it is easy to conclude 
 that something of the enemy’s darkness might be 
 also called light by the sincere that followed after. 
 For by antichristian darkness, though they might 
 call it light, the true light was darkened, and so 
 the eye made dim, even the eye of the truly godly. 
 Also the Holy Ghost did much withdraw itself 
 from the church, so the doctrines, traditions, and 
 rudiments of the world took more hold there, and 
 spread themselves more formidably over the face of 
 that whole church. For after the first angel had 
 sounded, and the star was fallen from heaven to the 
 earth, and had received the key of the bottomless 
 pit, and had opened the mouth thereof, the smoke 
 came out amain. This angel was one of the first 
 dads of antichristianism, and this smoke was that 
 which they call light, but it was ‘light against 
 light.’ ‘And he opened the bottomless pit, and 
 there arose a smoke out of the pit, as the smoke 
 of a great furnace, and the sun and the air were 
 darkened, by reason of the smoke of the pit.’ Re. 
 ix. 1, 2. 
 
 The sun I take to be the gospel of God, and the 
 air a type of the breathings of the Holy Ghost. 
 The smoke I take to be the doctrines and tradi¬ 
 
 tions of Antichrist; that which was, as I said 
 before, put for light against the true light of the 
 Word. Now, since the sun and the air were 
 darkened by this smoke, yea, and so darkened as 
 that the sun, nor moon, nor stars, nor day, nor 
 night, could shine for a third part of them; no 
 marvel though the true worshippers here were 
 benighted, or, at least, had but little light to walk 
 by; yea, I have known some that have been born 
 and bred up in smoky holes, that have been made, 
 both in smell and sight, to carry the tokens of their 
 so being bred about them. 
 
 And I say again, as to what is now under our 
 consideration, no marvel if they that breathed in 
 this church in the wilderness, after the smoke 
 came out of this pit, sucked in the smoke with the 
 air until it became natural to them. A house 
 annoyed with smoke is a great offence to the eyes, 
 whose light being thereby impaired, the judgment 
 also, since that, as to visibles, is guided by the 
 eye, must needs be in danger of being in part mis¬ 
 led. And this being the effect of light against 
 light at first, is the cause of what to this day we 
 see in the church among the true brotherhood. 
 For as a cause produceth an effect, so oftentimes 
 an effect sets on foot another cause. 
 
 Now, therefore, we have light against light 
 among the godly, as afore there was antichristian 
 against the Christian light. Not that light 
 against light is now godly in the all of it. It 
 is antichristian that opposes the Christian light 
 still. But, as before, the darkness that opposed 
 the light was in the antichristians, now that dark¬ 
 ness is got into the Christians, and has set them 
 against one another. Light therefore against light 
 now is in the Christians, truly prefigured by that 
 which was in the house of the forest of Lebanon. 
 Witness the jars, the oppositions, the contentions, 
 emulations, strifes, debates, whisperings, tumults, 
 and condemnations that, like cannon-shot, have so 
 frequently on all sides been let fly against one 
 another. 
 
 Shall I need to mention particularly contests 
 many years past, and presented to us in print? 
 Words and papers now in print, as also the many 
 petty divisions and names amongst us, sufficiently 
 make this manifest. Wherefore light against light 
 in this last place, or where it is thus repeated, 
 cannot, I think, be more fitly applied than to that 
 now under our consideration ; that is to say, than 
 to the opposite persuasions, different apprehensions, 
 and thwart conclusions, that are constantly drawn 
 from the same texts to maintain a diverse practice. 
 Though we are to acknowledge with thankfulness 
 that this opposition lies not so much in fundamen¬ 
 tals as in things of a lesser import. 
 
 The godly all hold the head, for there Antichrist 
 could never divide them ; their divisions therefore 
 
 1 Inventions, fictions, fables.—(E d.) 
 
THE HOUSE OF TIIE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 525 
 
 are, as 1 said, only about smaller things. I do not 
 saj that the antichnstian darkness has done no¬ 
 thing in the church as to the hurting it in the great 
 things of God. But, I say, it has not been able 
 to do that which could sever their Head from them, 
 otherwise there appears even too much of the effect 
 of his doings there. For even, as to the offices of 
 our Lord, some will have his authority more large, 
 some more strait. Some confine his rules to them¬ 
 selves and to their more outward qualification, and 
 some believe they are extended further. Some 
 will have his power in his church purely spiritual, 
 others again would have it mixed. Some count 
 his Word perfect and sufficient to guide in all 
 religious matters, others again hold that an addi¬ 
 tion of something human is necessary. Some are 
 for confining of his benefits, in the saving effects 
 of them, only to the elect, others are for a stretch¬ 
 ing of them further. 1 might here multiply things, 
 but that light against light is now among the godly 
 ns light against light was in the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon, is not at all to be questioned. 
 
 This therefore may stand for another argument 
 to prove that the house of the forest of Lebanon 
 was a type of the church in the wilderness. As 
 to the number here, that is to say, in three ranks, 
 it is also, as I think, to show that, though, as was 
 said afore, this darkness could not sever the true 
 church from her Head, yet it has eclipsed the glory 
 of things. By two lights a man cannot see this 
 or that thing so exactly as by one single light; 
 no, they both make all confused though they make 
 not all invisible. Mat. V L 22, 23 . 
 
 As, for instance, sun-light and moon-light to¬ 
 gether, fire-light and sun-light together, candle¬ 
 light and moon-light together, make things more 
 obscure than to look on them by a single light. 
 The Word reflecting upon the understanding, with¬ 
 out the interposing of man’s traditions, makes the 
 mind of God to a man more clear than when at 
 tended with the other. How much more then 
 when light shall be against light in three ranks? 
 Christ in his offices, blessed be God, is to this day 
 known in his church, notwithstanding there is yet 
 Mith us light against light in three ranks. But 
 in these things he is not so distinctly, fully, and 
 completely known, as he was before the church 
 went into the wilderness. No, that knowledge is 
 lost to a * third part ’ of it, as was also showed 
 before. Re. viii. 12. 
 
 ^ Things therefore will never be well in the church 
 (n God so long as there is thus light against light 
 therein. A\ hen there is but one Lord among us 
 and his name One, and wdien divisions, by the 
 consent of the whole, are banished, I mean, not 
 peisecuted, but abandoned in all by a joint con¬ 
 sent, and when every man shall submit his own 
 single opinion to those truths, that by their being 
 
 retained are for the health of all, then look for 
 good days, and not until then. For this house of 
 the forest of Lebanon, in which, as you see, there 
 is Might against light in three ranks,’ was not 
 built to prefigure the church in her primitive state, 
 but to show us how we should be while standing 
 before the face of the dragon, and while shifting 
 for ourselves in the wilderness. 
 
 And although by her pillars, and beauty, and 
 tower, aye, and by her facing the very metropoli¬ 
 tan of her enemies, she showeth that the true 
 grace of God is in her, and a strength and courage 
 that is invincible, yet for that she has also affixed 
 to her station ‘ Light against light in three ranks. ’ 
 It is evident her eye is not so single, and conse¬ 
 quently that her body is not so full of light, as she 
 will be when her sackcloth is put off, and as when 
 she has put on her beautiful garments. For then 
 it is that her moon is to shine as the sun, and that 
 the light of her sun is to be sevenfold, even as the 
 light of seven days, then, I say, ‘ When the Lord 
 bindeth up the breach of his people, and healeth 
 the stroke of their wound.’ is. xxx. 2 6. 
 
 You know that a kingdom flourishes not so long 
 as it is the seat of war, but when that is over peace 
 and prosperity flourishes. This house, as has been 
 hinted, was a type of the church in a wood, a 
 forest, a wilderness. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 OF THE SHIELDS AND TARGETS THAT WERE IN TOE 
 HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 As this house of the forest of Lebanon was that 
 which, in the general, prefigured the state of the 
 church in the wilderness, so it was accoutered with 
 sucli military materials as suited her in such a 
 condition, that is to say, with shields and targets; 
 consequently with other warlike things. ‘And 
 king Solomon made two hundred targets of beaten 
 gold, six hundred shekels of gold went to one tar¬ 
 get, and lie made three hundred shields of beaten 
 gold ; [three pound] or three hundred shekels of 
 gold went to one shield. And the king put them 
 in the house of the forest of Lebanon.’ 1 Ki. x . ic, 17 . 
 
 2 Ch. ix. 15, 16. 
 
 This supposes that the house of the forest of 
 Lebanon would be attacked by the enemy. And 
 good reason there was for such a supposition, since 
 it was built for defence of that worship that was 
 set up in the church. Hence it is said, when the 
 enemy used to come with his chariots and horse¬ 
 men against them, that they ‘ did look in that day 
 to the armour of the house of the forest.’ is. xxii. 7 , 8 . 
 That was, to see how they were prepared at Le¬ 
 banon, to make resistance against their foes, and 
 to secure themselves and their religion from that 
 destruction that by the enemy was designed should 
 
526 
 
 THE HOUSE OE THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 be made upon both. And thus again, or in this 
 thing, the house of the forest of Lebanon shows 
 that it was a figure of the church of the wilderness; 
 for she also is furnished with such weapons as were 
 counted by the wisdom of God necessary for the 
 security of the soul, and Christian religion, to wit, 
 ‘the weapons of our warfare,’ ‘the whole armour 
 of God.’ 2 Co. x. 4. 
 
 For though this house of the forest of Lebanon 
 was a place of defence, yet her armour is described 
 and directed too, both as to matter and to measure. 
 It was armour made of gold, such armour, and so 
 much of it. And it was made by direction of Solo¬ 
 mon, who was a type of Christ, by the power of whose 
 grace and working our armour is also provided for 
 us, as in the texts afore-mentioned may appear. 
 By this description, therefore, of the armour of the 
 house of the forest of Lebanon we are confined, 
 that being a type to the armour of God, in the 
 antitype thereto for the defence of the Christian 
 religion. We then may make use of none but the 
 armour of God for defence of our souls, and the 
 worship of God; this alone is the golden armour 
 provided by our Solomon, and put in the house of 
 the forest of Lebanon, or rather in the church in 
 the wilderness, for her to resist the enemy withal. 
 
 Two hundred targets. There is but little men¬ 
 tion made of targets in the Bible, nor at all ex¬ 
 pressly how they were used, but once; and that was 
 when Goliah came to defy Israel, he came, as with 
 other warlike furniture, so ‘ with a target of brass 
 between his shoulders.’ iSa. xvii.6. A target, that is, 
 saith the margin, a gorget. A gorget is a thing wore 
 about the neck, and it serveth in that place instead 
 of a shield. Wherefore in some of your old Bibles, 
 that which in one place is called a target, in another 
 is called a shield. 1 A shield for that part. This 
 piece of armour, I suppose, was worn in old time 
 by them that used spears, and it was to guard the 
 upper part of the back and shoulders from the 
 arrows of their enemies, that were shot into the 
 air, to the intent they might fall upon the upper 
 part of the body. 
 
 The shields were for them which drew bows, and 
 they were to catch or beat off those arrows that 
 were levelled at them by the enemy before. ‘ Asa 
 had ’ at one time ‘ an army of men that bare tar¬ 
 gets and spears, out of Judah three hundred 
 thousand, and out of Benjamin that bare shields, 
 and drew bows, two hundred and fourscore 
 thousand.’ 2 Ch. xiv. s. 
 
 I cannot tell what the target should signify here, 
 unless it was to show that those in the type were 
 
 1 The Hebrew words, rrih? IVFS} translated in the author¬ 
 ized version of the Bible, ‘And a target’ or gorget ‘of 
 brass,’ are rendered, in all the earlier versions, * And a shield of 
 brass.’ Perhaps a cuirass; it was evidently defensive brass 
 armour, worn between the shoulders.— (Ed.) 
 
 more weak and faint-hearted than those in the 
 antitype; for in that this gorget was prepared for 
 some back part of the body, it supposed the wearers 
 subject to run away, to flee. But in the descrip¬ 
 tion of the Christian armour, we have no provision 
 for the back; so our men in the church in the wil¬ 
 derness are supposed to be more stout. Their face 
 is made strong against the face of their enemies, 
 and their foreheads strong against their foreheads. 
 Eze. iii. 8, 9 . The shield was a type of the Christian 
 faith, and so the apostle applies it. The which 
 he also counteth a principal piece of our Christian 
 armour when he saith, ‘ Above all taking the shield 
 of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all 
 the fiery darts of the wicked.’ Ep. vi. 16 . These tar¬ 
 gets and shields were made of gold, to show the 
 excellent worth of this armour of God; to wit, that 
 it is not carnal but spiritual, not human but divine; 
 nor common or mean, but of an infinite value. 
 Wherefore James, alluding to this, saith, ‘Hearken, 
 my beloved brethren, Hath not God chosen the 
 poor of this world rich in faith,’ (hath he not given 
 them this golden shield) and made them * heirs of 
 the kingdom which he hath promised to them that 
 love him ?’ Ja. ii. 5. 
 
 Faith ! Peter saith, faith, in the very trial of 
 it, is much more precious than is gold that perish- 
 eth. If so, then what is that worth, or value, that 
 is in the grace itself ? l Pe. i 7. This also is that 
 which Christ intends when he says, ‘ buy of me 
 gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich.’ 
 
 Re. iii. 18. 
 
 And methinks the apostles and the Lord Jesus 
 Christ do in all these places allude to the shields, 
 the shields of gold, that Solomon made, and put in 
 the house of the forest of Lebanon ; which house, 
 as I have showed, was that which indeed prefigured 
 the state of the church in the wilderness; and these 
 shields a type of faith. 
 
 Obj. But here is mention made of nothing but 
 shields and targets. 
 
 Answ. True, and that perhaps to show us that 
 the war that the church makes with Antichrist is 
 rather defensive than offensive. Shields and tar¬ 
 gets are Aveapons defensive, weapons provided for 
 self-preservation, not to hurt others Avith. A Chris¬ 
 tian also, if he can but defend his soul in the sin¬ 
 cere profession of the true religion, doth what by 
 duty, as to this, he is bound. Wherefore though 
 the New Testament admits him to put on the Avhole 
 armour of God, yet the Avhole and every part there¬ 
 of is spiritual, and only defensive. True, there is 
 mention made of the SAVord, but that sword ‘ is the 
 Word of God.’ Ep. vi. 17. A Aveapon that hurteth 
 none, none at all but the devil and sin, and those 
 that love it. Indeed it was made for Christians to 
 defend themselves, and their religion Avith, against 
 hell and the angels of darkness. These tAVO pieces 
 
527 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 of ai incur tlicn that Solomon the king did put into 
 tho house of the forest of Lebanon, were types of 
 the spiritual armour that the church in the wilder¬ 
 ness should make use of. And as we read of no 
 more that was put there, at least to be typical, so 
 we read of, and must use no more than we are bid 
 
 to put on by the apostle, for the defence of true 
 religion. 
 
 Obj. But he that shall use none other than this, 
 must look to come off a loser. 
 
 Answ. In the judgment of the world this is true; 
 but not in the judgment of them that have skill, 
 and a heart to use it. For this armour is not 
 Saul s, which David refused, but God’s, by which 
 the lives of all those have been secured that put it 
 on, and handled it well. Tou read of some of 
 David’s mighty men of valour, that their ‘ faces 
 ueie like the faces of lions, and’ that they ‘ were 
 as swift of foot * as the roes upon the mountains.’ 
 
 ] Ch. xii. 8. Being expert in handling spear and 
 shield. 
 
 Why, God’s armour makes a man’s face look 
 thus, also it makes him that usetli it more lively 
 and active than before. God’s armour is no bur¬ 
 den to the body, nor clog to the mind, but rather 
 a natural, instead of an artificial, fortification. 
 
 But this armour comes not to any but out of 
 the king s hand; Solomon put these targets and 
 shields into the house of the forest of Lebanon. So 
 Chiist distributeth his armour to his church. 
 Hence it is said it is given to his to suffer for him. 
 
 It is given to his by himself, and on his behalf. 
 
 Phi. i. 29. 
 
 now with reference to the Lamb and the army that 
 follows him; and as to them, no man’s person is in 
 danger simply as such. Wherefore, it is not men 
 but sin; not men, but the man of sin, that wicked 
 one, that the Son of God makes war against, in 
 and by his church. 2 Th. ii. 8. He. xii. 4. 
 
 Let us therefore state the matter right; no man 
 needs be afraid to let Jesus Christ be chief in the 
 world, he envies nobody, he designs the hurt of 
 none: his kingdom is not of this world, nor doth he 
 covet temporal matters; let but his wife, his church 
 alone, to enjoy her purchased privileges, and all 
 shall be well. Which privileges of hers, since they 
 are soul concerns, make no infringement upon any 
 man s liberties. Let but faith and holiness walk 
 the streets without control, and you may be as 
 happy as the world can make you. I speak now 
 to them that contend with him. 
 
 But if seasonable counsel will not go down, if 
 hardness of heart and blindness of mind, and so 
 perishing from the way, shall overtake you, it is but 
 what you of old have been cautioned of. ‘ Be wise 
 now therefore, 0 ye kings; be instructed, ye judges 
 of the earth. Serve the Lord with fear, and re¬ 
 joice with trembling. Kiss the Son, lest he be 
 angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath 
 is kindled but a little. Blessed are all they that 
 put their trust in him.’ Ps. a. 10-12. 
 
 Now let this also that has been said upon this 
 head, be another argument to prove that the house 
 of the forest of Lebanon was a type of the church 
 in the wilderness. 
 
 That is, that they might with it fight those battles 
 which he shall manage against Antichrist. Hence 
 they are called the armies in heaven, and are said 
 to follow their Lord ‘ upon white horses clothed in 
 fine linen, white and clean.’ But, as I said, still 
 their war was but defensive. For a little further 
 do but observe, and you shall find the beast fall 
 upon him. ‘ And I saw the beast, and the kings 
 of the earth, and their armies gathered together, 
 to make war against him that sat on the horse, 
 and against his army.’ Re. xix, 14,19. It is they that 
 fall on, it is they that pick the quarrel, and give 
 the onset. Besides, the armour, as I said, is only 
 spiritual; wherefore the slaughter must needs be 
 spiritual also. Hence as here it is said the 
 Lamb did slay his enemies, by the sword, spirit, 
 or breath of his mouth; so his army also slays 
 them by the fire that proceedeth out of his mouth. 
 
 Re. L 16; xix. 21. 
 
 Here is therefore no man’s person in danger 
 this war. And I say again, so far as any mai 
 person is in danger, it is by wrong managing 
 this war. True, the persons of the Christians £ 
 in danger, but that is because of the bloody disj 
 sition of an antichristian enemy. But we 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 OF THE VESSELS WHICH SOLOMON PUT IN THE HOUSE 
 OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 Solomon did also put vessels into the house of 
 the forest of Lebanon. ‘ And all king Solomon’s 
 drinking-vessels were of gold, and all the vessels 
 of the house of the forest of Lebanon ivere of ’ gold, 
 puie gold, none were of silver; it was nothing 
 accounted of in the days of Solomon.’ 1 Ki. 21. 
 
 2 Ch. ix. 20. 
 
 Since it is not expressed what those vessels of 
 pure gold were which Solomon put in the house of 
 the forest of Lebanon, therefore, as to the affirm¬ 
 ative, no man can be absolute; vessels of gold, 
 vessels of pure gold, the Holy Ghost says they 
 weie, and so leaves it to the prudent to make their 
 conjectures; and although I may not put myself 
 among the number of those prudent ones, yet let 
 me take leave to say what I think in the case. 
 
 First then, negatively, they were not vessels 
 oidained for Divine worship, for as that was con¬ 
 fined to the temple, so the vessels and materials 
 and circumstances for worship were there. I say, 
 the whole uniform worship of the Jews now was 
 
R23 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 confined to the temple. 1 Ch. ii. 4 ; vii. 12,15,16. Where¬ 
 fore the vessels here mentioned could not he such 
 as was in order to set up worship here, for to Jer¬ 
 usalem they were to bring their sacrifices; true, 
 they had synagogues where ordinary service was 
 done, there the law was read, and there the priests 
 taught the people how they r should serve the Lord; 
 hut for that which stood in carnal ordinances, as 
 sacrificings, washings, and using vessels for that 
 purpose, that was performed at Jerusalem. 
 
 This house, therefore, to wit, the house of the 
 forest of Lebanon, was not built to slay or to offer 
 burnt-offerings or sacrifices in, but as that altar 
 was which the two tribes and an half, built by Jor¬ 
 dan, when they went each to their inheritance, 
 namely, to be a witness of the people’s resolutions 
 to preserve true religion in the church, to them¬ 
 selves, and to their posterity. Jos. xxii. 21-29. Since 
 this house therefore was designed for defensive 
 war, it was not requisite that the formalities of 
 worship should be there . 1 
 
 The church in the wilderness also, so far as she 
 is concerned in contention, so far she is not taken 
 up in the practical parts of religion, 1 Th. ii. 2 ; for 
 religion is not to be practised in the church in the 
 moments of contention. Let us practise then our 
 religion in peace, and in all peaceable ways, and 
 vindicate it by way of contention, that is, when 
 asked or required by opposites to render a reason 
 thereof, rhi. i. 7,17. Ac. xxii. 1. But my contention 
 must be, not in pragmatic languages or in striv¬ 
 ing about words to no profit, but by words of truth 
 and soberness, wit^ all meekness and fear. Ac. xxvi. 
 24 , 25 . Tit. iii. 1 , 2 . 1 Te. iii. 15 . 
 
 To practise and defend a practice you know are 
 two things; I practise religion in my closet, in my 
 family, in the congregation, but 1 defend this 
 practice before the magistrate, the king, and the 
 judge. Now the temple was prepared for the 
 practice of religion, and the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon for defence of the same. Re xi. 1. So 
 far then as the church in the wilderness worships, 
 so far she is compared to the temple, and so far as 
 she defends that worship, so far she is called an 
 army. Re. xix. 14 . An army terrible with banners. 
 Ca. vj. 4. For God has given a banner to them that 
 fear him, that it may be displayed because of the 
 truth. Ps. Lx. 4. Hence she says to God, ‘ We will 
 rejoice in thy salvation, and in the name of our 
 God, we will set up our banners.’ Ps. xx. 5 . But 
 here is in all this no hurt to the world, the kino;- 
 
 7 O 
 
 1 No formal service suck as that of tke temple. While the 
 churches are iu the wilderness, suffering under the fangs of Anti¬ 
 christ, religious services must be adapted to their circumstances. 
 At times fervent silent prayer, unheard on earth, but recorded 
 in heaven; at other times in an upper chamber or a forest, 
 afraid to sing, lest it should bring the enemy upon them. How 
 
 ought we to bless God for giving us the full enjoyment of public 
 worship, even while in the wilderness.—(E d.) 
 
 dom, the worship, the war is spiritual, even as the 
 armour is . 2 I have spoken this to distinguish 
 worship from contending for worship, and to make 
 way for what is yet to be said. 
 
 If the vessels of the forest of Lebanon, or those 
 put in that house, were not such as related to 
 worship, to worship simply as such, then it should 
 seem— 
 
 These vessels therefore were for some other use 
 than for formal worship in the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon. The best way then, that I know of, 
 to find out what they were is first to consider to 
 what they are joined in the mention of them. Now 
 I find them joined in the mention of them with Solo¬ 
 mon’s drinking vessels, and since as they were 
 made of fine or pure gold, I take them also to be 
 vessels of the same kind, namely, vessels to drink 
 in. Now if we join to this the state of the church 
 in the wilderness, of which, as we have said, this 
 house of the forest of Lebanon was a type, then 
 we must understand that by these vessels were 
 prefigured such draughts as the church has, when 
 in a bewildered or persecuted state; and they are 
 of two sorts, either, First , Such as are exceeding 
 bitter; or, Second , Such as are exceeding sweet; 
 for both these attend a state of war. 
 
 First. Such as are exceeding hitter. These are 
 called cups of red wine, signifying blood; also, the 
 cup of the Lord’s fury, the cup of trembling, the 
 cup of astonishment, &c. rs. lxxv. a Is. n. 17 , 22. Je. xxv. 
 15 . Eze. xxiii. 33 . 
 
 Nor is there anything more natural to the 
 church, while in a wilderness condition, than such 
 cups and draughts as these. Hence she, as there, 
 is said to be clothed, as was said afore, in sack¬ 
 cloth, to mourn, to weep, to cry out, and to be in 
 pain, as is a woman in travail. See the Lamenta¬ 
 tions and you will find all this verified. See also 
 
 Re. xi. 3 ; xii. 2 . 
 
 And whoso considers what has already been saidas 
 to what the house of the forest of Lebanon met with, 
 will find that what is here inferred is not foreign 
 but natural. For, can it be imagined, that when 
 the king of Assyria laid down his army by the 
 sides of Lebanon, and when the fire was to devour 
 
 51 One of the popular delusions of our day is, that all sects 
 have been intolerant and persecutors when they had the oppor¬ 
 tunity. This is a gross falsehood. 'Who can charge the Wai- 
 denses, Albigenses, or Lollards with that spirit of Antichrist P 
 Who dares charge the Quakers with a persecuting spirit? They 
 had the full opportunity when governing Pennsylvania. Who 
 can accuse the Baptists with injuring those who differed from 
 them when Roger Williams and his Baptist brethren obtained 
 the charter of Rhode Island, with full power to rule themselves 
 by any form of government they preferred? H is magna charta 
 concludes with these words, ‘ And let the saints of the Most 
 High walk in this colony without molestation, in the name of 
 Jehovah their God, for ever and ever.’ And it has never been 
 violated.' Persecution has never sullied its annals. Freedom 
 to worship God was the desire of its founder—for himself and 
 for all; and he nobly endured till it was accomplished.—E d. 
 
529 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE 
 
 her cetlars, also when Lebanon was to be cut down 
 and languish, that these vessels, these cups, were 
 not then put into her hand. And I say again, 
 since the church in the wilderness, Lebanon’s anti¬ 
 type, has been so persecuted, so distressed, so 
 oppiessed, and made the seat of so much war, so 
 much blood, of so many murders of her children 
 within her, &c., can it be imagined that she drank 
 of none of these cups? Yes, yes, she has drank 
 the led wine at the Lord’s hand, even the cup of 
 blood, of fury, of trembling, and of astonishment; 
 witness her own cries, sighs, tears, and tremblings, 
 with the cries of widow's, children, and orphans 
 within her. La. i., ii., iv., v . 
 
 , -^ ut w hat do I cite particular texts, since reason, 
 histories, experience, anything that is intelligible, 
 will confirm this for a truth ; namely, that a p°eople 
 wdiose profession is directly in opposition to the 
 de\il and Antichrist, and to all debauchery, in¬ 
 humanity, profaneness, superstition, and idolatry, 
 when suffered to be invaded by the dragon, the 
 beast, the false prophet, and whore, must needs 
 taste of these cups, and drink thereof, to their 
 astonishment. 
 
 But all these are of pure gold. They are of 
 God’s ordaining, appointing, filling, timing, and 
 also sanctified by him for good to those of his that 
 drink them. Hence Moses chose rather to drink 
 a brimmer of.these, ‘than to enjoy the pleasures 
 of sin for a season.’ He. xi. 25 . The sourness, bit¬ 
 terness, and wormwood of them, therefore, is only 
 to the flesh that loveth neither God, nor Christ, 
 nor grace. Ps. lxxv. 8. Phi. i. 28. 
 
 The afflictions, therefore, that the church in the 
 wilderness hath met with, these cups of gold, are 
 of more worth than are all the treasures of Egypt; 
 they are needful and profitable, and praiseworthy 
 also, and tend to the augmenting of our glory 
 when the next world is come. 1 Th. m. 3 . Re. ii. 10. 1 p e . 
 
 L 6 . Besides they are signs, tokens, and golden 
 marks of love,, and jewels that set off the beauty 
 of the church in the sight of God the more. Ga. vi. 
 
 17 . Re. iii. 19 . He. xii. 6. They are also a means by 
 which men are proved sound, honest, faithful, and 
 true lovers of God, as also such wdiose graces are 
 not counterfeit, feigned, or unsound, but true, and 
 such as will be found to praise, and honour, and 
 glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ, is. xxvii. 9 . 
 
 He. xii. 7-10. 1 Pe. ii. 19. 2 Co. iv. 17, 18. 2 Th. i. 5. 
 
 And this has been the cause that the men of 
 our church in the wilderness have gloried in tribul¬ 
 ation, taking pleasure in reproaches, in necessities, 
 in persecutions, and in distresses for Christ’s sake. 
 Ro. v. s. 2 Co. xii. 9 , io. Yea, this is the reason why 
 they have bidden one another rejoice when they 
 hdl into divers temptations, saying, Happy is the 
 man that endureth temptations, and behold we 
 count them happy that endure. Ja. i. 2 , 12; v. 11. And 
 VOL. III. ^ 
 
 FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 again, ‘ if ye be reproached for the name of Christ, 
 happy are ye* 1 p e . ir. 14. 
 
 These therefore are vessels of pure gold, though 
 they contain such bitter draughts, and though such 
 as at which we make so many wry faces before we 
 can get their liquor down. 
 
 Do you think that a Christian, having even this 
 cup in his hand to drink it, would change it for a 
 draught of that wdiich is in the hand of the woman 
 that sits on the back of the scarlet-coloured beast ? 
 Re. xvii..3, 4. . No, verily, for he knows that her 
 sweet is poison, and that his bitter is to purge his 
 soul, body, life, and religion, of death. 2 Ti. ii. 11,12. 
 
 God sends his love tokens to his church two 
 ways, sometimes by her friends, sometimes by her 
 enemies. When they come by the hand of a 
 friend, as by a minister, a brother, or by the Holy 
 Ghost, then they come smoothly, sweetly, and are 
 taken, and go down like honey. But when these 
 love tokens come to them by the hand of an 
 enemy, then they are handed to them roughly; 
 Pharaoh handed love tokens to them roughly; the 
 king of Babylon handed these love tokens to them 
 roughly. They bring them of malice, God sends 
 them of love; they bring them and give them to 
 us, hoping they will be our death; they give us 
 them therefore with many a foul curse, but God 
 blesses them still. Did not Haman lead Mordecai 
 in his state by the hand of anger? 
 
 Nor is this cup so bitter but that our Lord him¬ 
 self drank deep of it before it was handed to his 
 church; he did as loving mothers do, drink there¬ 
 of himself to show us it is not poison, also to 
 encourage us to drink it for his sake and for our 
 endless health. Hat. xx. 22; xxvi. 39 , 42 . 
 
 And, as I told you before, I think I do not vary 
 from the sense of the text in calling them cups; 
 because, though there they have no name, they 
 are joined with king Solomon’s drinking vessels, 
 and because as so joined in the type, so they are 
 also joined here; therefore the cup here is called 
 Christ s cup. ‘ Are ye able to drink of the cup 
 that I shall drink of?’ ‘ Ye shall drink indeed of 
 my cup. Mat. xx. 22 , 23 . Here you see they are 
 joined in a communion in this cup of affliction, as 
 the cups in one and the same breath are joined 
 with those king Solomon drank in, which lie put 
 in the house of the forest of Lebanon. 
 
 [ Second . Such as are exceeding sweet.] 
 
 But these are not all the cups that belong to the 
 house of the forest of Lebanon, or rather to the 
 church in the wilderness; there is also a cup, out 
 of which, at times, is drunk what is exceeding 
 sweet. It is called the cup of consolation, the cup 
 of salvation; a cup in the which God himself is. Ps. 
 cxvi. 13 . Je. xvi. 7 . As he said, the Lord is the portion 
 of my cup. Or rather, ‘ the Lord 7 s the portion of 
 mine inheritance, and my cup. ’ p s . X vi. 5. This cup, 
 
 67 
 
530 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 they that are in the church in the wilderness have 
 usually for an after-draught to that bitter one that 
 went before. Thus, as tender mothers give their 
 children plumbs or sugar, to sweeten their palate 
 after they have drank a bitter potion, so God gives 
 his the cups of salvation and consolation, after they 
 have suffered awhile. ‘For as the sufferings of 
 Christ abound in us, so our consolation also abound- 
 eth by Christ.’ 2 Co. i. 5 . 
 
 Hence the apostle assureth himself concerning 
 the affliction of them at Corinth; yea, and also 
 promiseth them, that as they were partakers of the 
 sufferings, so should they be of the consolation. 
 2 Co. i. 7 . Some of these cups are filled until they 
 run over, as David said his did, when the valley 
 of the shadow of death was before him. ‘ Thou 
 preparest a table before me,’ said he, ‘ in the pres¬ 
 ence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with 
 oil ; my cup runneth over.’ Ps. xxiii. 5 . This is that 
 which the apostle calls exceeding; that is, that 
 which is beyond measure. ‘I am,’ says he, ‘filled 
 with comfort, I am exceeding joyful in all our tri¬ 
 bulation. ’ 2 Co. vii. 4. 
 
 Now he has one answering the other. Thou 
 hast made summer and winter. Thou hast made 
 the warm beams of thy sun answerable to the cold 
 of the dark night. This may be also yet signified 
 by the building of this house, this type of the church 
 in the wilderness, in so pleasant a place as the 
 forest of Lebanon was. Ca. iv. s. Lebanon! Lebanon 
 was one of the sweetest places in all the land of Ca¬ 
 naan. Therefore we read of the fruit of Lebanon, 
 of the streams from Lebanon; the scent, the smell, 
 the glory of Lebanon; and also of the wine and 
 tlowei'S of Leoanon. Ps. lxxii. 16. Hos. xiv. 6 , 7. Is. xxxv. 2; 
 lx. 13. Na. i. 4. 
 
 Lebanon! That was one thing that wrought 
 with Moses to desire that he might go over Jordan; 
 namely, that he might see that goodly mountain, 
 and Lebanon. The glory and excellent beauty of 
 the church, Christ also setteth forth, by comparing 
 of her to Lebanon. ‘ Thy lips, 0 my spouse,’ says 
 he, ‘drop as the honey-comb: honey and milk are 
 under thy tongue, and the smell of thy garments is 
 like the smell of Lebanon.’ Ca. iv. 11 , 15 . This house, 
 therefore, being placed here, might be to show 
 how blessed a state God could make the state of 
 his church by his blessed grace and presence, even 
 while she is in a wilderness condition. 
 
 We will add to this, for further demonstration, 
 that letter of that godly man, Pomponius Algerius, 
 an Italian martyr; some of the words of which are 
 these:— 
 
 ‘Let,’ saith he, ‘the miserable worldly man answer 
 me ; what remedy or safe refuge can there be unto 
 him if he lack God, who is the life and medicine 
 of all men: and how* can he be said to fly from 
 death, when he himself is already dead in sin. If 
 
 Christ be the way, verity, and life, how can there 
 be any life then without Christ? 
 
 ‘The sooly 1 heat of the prison tome is coldness; 
 the cold winter to me is a fresh spring-time in the 
 Lord. He that feareth not to be burned in the 
 fire, how will he fear the heat of weather? Or 
 what careth he for the pinching frost, which burn- 
 eth with the love of the Lord ? 
 
 ‘The place is sharp and tedious to them that be 
 guilty; but to the innocent and guiltless it is melli¬ 
 fluous. Here droppeth the delectable dew; here 
 floweththe pleasant nectar; here runneth the sweet 
 milk; here is plenty of all good things. And al¬ 
 though the place itself be desert and barren, yet 
 to me it seemeth a large walk, and a valley of 
 pleasure; here to me is the better and more noble 
 part of the world. Let the miserable worldling 
 say, and confess, if there be any plot, pasture, or 
 meadow, so delightful to the mind of man, as here. 
 Here I see kings, princes, cities, and people; here 
 I see wars, where some be overthrown, some be 
 victors, some thrust down, some lifted up. Here 
 is Mount Sion; here I am already in heaven itself. 
 Here standeth first Christ Jesus in the front; about 
 him stand the old fathers, prophets, and evangelists, 
 apostles, and all the servants of God; of whom 
 some do embrace and cherish me, some exhort me, 
 some open the sacraments unto me, some comfort 
 me, other some are singing about me: and how then 
 shall I be thought to be alone, among so many, 
 and such as these be, the beholding of whom to me 
 is both solace and example. For here I see some 
 crucified, some slain, some stoned, some cut asun¬ 
 der, and some quartered, some roasted, some 
 broiled, some put in hot caldrons, some having 
 their eyes bored through, some their tongues cut 
 out, some their skin plucked over their heads, some 
 their hands and feet chopped off, some put in kilns 
 and furnaces, some cast down headlong, and given 
 to the beasts and fowls of the air to feed upon. It 
 would,’ said he, ‘ask a long time, if I should recite all. 
 
 ‘ To be short, divers I see with divers and sundry 
 torments excruciate; yet notwithstanding, all living 
 and all safe. One plaster, one salve curetli all their 
 wounds, which also giveth tome strength and life; 
 so that l sustain all these transitory anguishes and 
 small afflictions with a quiet mind, having a greater 
 hope laid up in heaven. Neither do 1 fear mine 
 adversaries which here persecute me and oppress 
 me, for he that dwelleth in heaven shall laugh them 
 to scorn, and the Lord shall deride them. I fear 
 
 1 This word was used by Fox in translating the letter of 
 Algerius; I cannot find it in any dictionary. It probably refers 
 to this poor prisoner for Christ being confined in a ‘ soler,’ or 
 room, close under the roof of his prison, in which an Italian 
 sun must have rendered the heat intense. The word * sooly’ 
 may be derived from the Anglo-Saxon ‘ swool,’ sultry; the 
 Hutch use sicoel, zoel, and zoelheid for heat and sultry heat. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 531 
 
 not thousands of people which compass me about. 
 The Lord my God shall deliver me, my hope, my 
 supporter, my comforter, who exalteth up my head. 
 He shall smite all them that stand up against me 
 without cause; and shall dash the teeth and jaws 
 of sinners asunder, for he only i 3 all blessedness 
 and majesty. 
 
 ‘The rebukes for Christ’s cause make us jocund; 
 for so it is written: if ye be rebuked and scorned 
 for the name of Christ, happy be you; for the glory 
 and spirit of God resteth upon you. 1 Pe. iv. Be } r e 
 therefore certified (said he, by this his letter to his 
 friends) that our rebukes, which are laid upon us, 
 redound to the shame and harm of the rebukers. 
 In this world there is no mansion firm to me; and 
 therefore I will travel up to the New Jerusalem 
 which is in heaven, and which offereth itself to me, 
 without paying any fine or income. Behold I have 
 entered already in my journey, where my house 
 standeth for me prepared, and where I shall have 
 riches, kinsfolks, delights, honours, never-failing. 
 
 ‘As for these earthly things here present, they 
 are transitory shadows, vanishing vapours, and 
 ruinous walls. Briefly all is but very vanity of 
 vanities, whereas hope, and the substance of eter¬ 
 nity to come, are wanting; which the merciful good¬ 
 ness of the Lord hath given, as companions to ac¬ 
 company me, and to comfort me; and now do the 
 same begin to work, and to bring forth fruits in me. 
 
 1 have travelled hitherto, laboured and sweat early 
 and late, watching day and night, and now mv 
 travails begin to come to effect. Days and hours 
 have I bestowed upon my studies. Behold the 
 true countenance of God is sealed upon me, the 
 Lord hath given mirth in my heart: and therefore 
 in the same will I lay me down in peace and rest. 
 Ps. iv. And who then shall dare to blame this our 
 age consumed; or say that our years be cut off? 
 What man can now cavil that these our labours are 
 lost, which have followed, and found out the Lord 
 and maker of the world, and which have changed 
 death with life? My portion is the Lord, saith my 
 soul, and therefore I will seek and wait for him. 
 
 ‘ Now then, if to die in the Lord be not to die 
 but live most joyfully, where is this wretched world¬ 
 ly rebel, which blameth us of folly, for giving away 
 our lives to death? 0 how delectable is this death 
 to me! to taste the Lord’s cup, which is an assured 
 pledge of true salvation; for so hath the Lord him¬ 
 self forewarned us, saying, the same that they have 
 done to me, they will also do unto you. Wherefore 
 let the doltish world, with his blind worldlings (who 
 in the bright sunshine, yet go stumbling in dark¬ 
 ness, being as blind as beetles), cease thus unwisely 
 to carp against us for our rash suffering, as they 
 count it. To whom, thus, we answer again, with 
 the holy apostle, that neither tribulation, nor an¬ 
 guish, nor hunger, nor nakedness, nor jeopardy, nor 
 
 persecution, nor sword, shall be able ever to separate 
 us from the love of Christ ; we are slain all the day 
 long; we are made like sheep ordained to the sham¬ 
 bles. Ro. viii. 
 
 ‘Thus,’ saith he, ‘do we resemble Christ our Head, 
 which said that the disciple cannot be above his 
 master, nor the servant above his Lord. The same 
 Lord hath also commanded that every one shall 
 take up his cross and follow him. Lu. ix. Rejoice, 
 rejoice, my dear brethren and fellow-servants, and 
 be of good comfort, when ye fall into sundry tempta¬ 
 tions ; let your patience be perfect in all parts. 
 For so it is foreshowed us before, and is written, 
 that they which shall kill you shall think to do 
 God good service. Therefore, afflictions and death 
 be as tokens and sacraments of our election and 
 life to come. Let us then be glad and sing unto 
 the Lord, when as we, being clear from all just 
 accusations, are persecuted and given to death ; for 
 better it is that we in doing well do suffer, if it so 
 be the will of God, than doing evil, i Pe. m. We 
 have for our example Christ and the prophets which 
 spake in the name of the Lord, whom the children 
 of iniquity did quell 1 2 and murder. And now we 
 bless and magnify them that then suffered. Let 
 us be glad and joyous in our innocency and upright¬ 
 ness ; the Lord shall reward them that persecute 
 us; let us refer all revengement to him. 
 
 ‘I am accused of foolishness, for that I do not 
 shrink from the true doctrine and knowledge of 
 God, and do not rid myself out of these troubles, 
 when with one word I may. 0 the blindness of 
 man, which seeth not the sun shining, neither re- 
 membereth the Lord’s words. Consider therefore 
 what he saith, you are the light of the world. A 
 city built on the hill cannot be hid; neither do men 
 light a candle and put it under a bushel, but upon 
 a candlestick, that it may shine, and give light to 
 them in the house. And in another place he saith 
 you shall be led before kings and rulers. Fear ye 
 not them which kill the body, but him which killeth 
 both body and soul. Whosoever shall confess me 
 before men, him will I also confess before my Father 
 which is in heaven ; and he that denieth me before 
 men, him will I also deny before my heavenly 
 Father. 
 
 ‘ Wherefore, seeing the "words of the Lord be so 
 plain, how, or by what authority, will this wise 
 counsellor then approve this his counsel which he 
 doth give? God forbid that I should relinquish 
 the commandments of God and follow the coun¬ 
 sels of men. For it is written, Blessed is the man 
 that hath not gone in the way of sinners, and hath 
 not stood in the counsels of the ungodly, and hath 
 not sit in the chair of pestilence. Ps. \.' z God for- 
 
 1 The obsolete verb, to kill.—(E d.) 
 
 2 This is a curious mode oi expressing the awful gradation 
 of a sinner. 1. To go in the way of sinners. 2. To enter 
 
532 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 bid that I should deny Christ where I ought to 
 confess him; I will not set more by my life than by 
 my soul, neither will I exchange the life to come 
 for this world here present. 0 how foolishly 
 speaketh he which argueth me of foolishness! ’ 
 
 And a little farther he saith, ‘ And now let this 
 carnal politic counsellor, and disputer of this world, 
 tell wherein have they to blame me. If in mine 
 examinations I have not answered so after their 
 mind and affection as they required of me, seeing 
 it is not ourselves that speak, but the Lord that 
 speaketh in us, as he himself doth fore-witness, 
 saying, When you shall be brought before rulers 
 and magistrates, it is not you yourselves that 
 speak, hut the Spirit of my Father that shall be 
 in you. Mat. x. Wherefore, if the Lord be true and 
 faithful of his word, as it is most certain, then 
 there is no blame in me; for he gave the words 
 that I did speak, and who was I that could resist 
 his will? 
 
 ‘ If any man shall reprehend the things that I 
 said, let him then quarrel with the Lord, whom it 
 pleased to work so in me; and if the Lord be not to 
 be blamed, neither am I herein to be accused, which 
 did that I purposed not, and that I fore-thought 
 not of. The things that there I did utter and 
 express [he means when he was before the magis¬ 
 trates], if they were otherwise than well, let them 
 show it, and then will I say that they were my 
 words, and not the Lord’s. But if they were good 
 and approved, and such as cannot justly be accused, 
 then must it needs be granted, spite of their 
 teeth, that they proceeded of the Lord; and then 
 who be they that shall accuse me—people of pru¬ 
 dence? Or who shall condemn me—just judges? 
 And though they so do, yet, nevertheless, the word 
 shall not be frustrate, neither shall the gospel be 
 foolish or therefore decay, but rather the kingdom 
 of God shall the more prosper and flourish unto 
 the Israelites, and shall pass the sooner unto the 
 elect of Christ Jesus, and they which shall so do 
 shall prove the grievous judgment of God. Neither 
 shall they escape without punishment that be per¬ 
 secutors and murderers of the just. 
 
 ‘ My well-beloved, ’ saith he, ‘ lift up your eyes 
 and consider the counsels of God. He showed unto 
 us a late an image of his plague, which was to 
 our correction; and if we shall not receive him he 
 will draw out his sword and strike with sword, 
 pestilence, and famine, the nation that shall rise 
 against Christ.’ 
 
 This, as I said, is part of a letter writ by Pom- 
 ponius Algerius, an Italian martyr, who, when he 
 wrote it, was in prison, in, as he calls it, his de¬ 
 lectable orchard, the prison of Leonine, 12 calend. 
 
 into their couusels. 3. To sit in the scorner’s seat, here called 
 the chair of pestilence.’ This is from the vulgate Latin, which 
 renders pestilentia.—{ Ed.) 
 
 August, anno 1555 . As is to he seen in tha 
 second volume of the book of martyrs. 1 
 
 This man was, when he wrote this letter, in the 
 house of the forest of Lebanon, in the church in 
 the wilderness, in the place and way of contending 
 for the truth of God, and he drank of both these 
 bitter cups of which I spake before, to wit, of that 
 which was exceeding bitter, and of that which was 
 exceeding sweet, and the reason why he complained 
 not of the bitter was because the sweet had over¬ 
 come it—as his afflictions abounded for Christ, so 
 did his consolations by him. So, did I say? they 
 abounded much more. 
 
 But was not this man, think you, a giant, a 
 pillar in this house ? Had he not also now hold of 
 the shield of faith? Yea, was he not now in the 
 combat ? And did he not behave himself valiantly? 
 Was not his mind elevated a thousand degrees be¬ 
 yond sense, carnal reasons, fleshly love, self-con¬ 
 cerns, and the desires of embracing temporal 
 things? This man had got that by the end that 
 pleased him; neither could all the flatteries, pro¬ 
 mises, threats, or reproaches, make him once listen 
 to or desire to inquire after what the world or the 
 glory of it could afford. His mind was captivated 
 with delights invisible; he coveted to show his love 
 to his Lord by laying down his life for his sake; 
 he longed to be there where there shall be no more 
 pain, nor sorrow, nor sighing, nor tears, nor 
 troubles ; he was a man of a thousand. Ec. vii. 28. 
 
 But to return again to our text. You know we 
 are now upon the vessels of the house of the forest 
 of Lebanon, which, I have told you, could not be 
 vessels for worship, for that worship that was 
 ordained to be performed at the temple was also 
 confined to that, and to the vessels that were there. 
 Therefore they must be, in all probability, the ves¬ 
 sels that I have mentioned, the which you see how 
 we have expounded and applied. If I am out I 
 know it not; if others can give me better light here 
 about for it I will be thankful. 
 
 There was also added to this house of the forest 
 of Lebanon, store-cities, chariot-cities, and cities 
 of horsemen, unto which king Jotham added castles 
 and towers. 2 Ch. viii. 4—6; xxvii. 3, 4. 
 
 These might be to signify by what ways and 
 
 1 Pomponius Algerius, born in Capua, a young man of great 
 learning, was student in the University of Padua, where he, 
 not being able to conceal the verity of Christ’s gospel which 
 he learned by the heavenly teaching of God’s grace, ceased not, 
 both by doctrine and example of life, to inform as many as he 
 could in the same doctrine, and to bring them to Christ; for 
 which he was accused of heresy, and brought to Rome, where 
 he was burned alive. He wrote this letter while in prison at 
 Venice.—See Fox’s Ads and Monuments, edit. 1631. vol. ii. 
 
 p. 181. 
 
 Mr. Southey thought that this letter gave Bunyan some germ 
 of his Pilgrims Progress ! ! He takes it from the words, * In 
 this world there is no mansion firm for me, and therefore I will 
 travel up to the New Jerusalem, which is in heaven.’— Life of 
 Bunyan, p. xc.—(E d.) 
 
THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 533 
 
 means God would at times revenue the quarrel 
 of his church, even in this world, upon them 
 that, without cause, should, for their faith and 
 worship, set themselves against them. For here 
 is a face of threatening revenge, they were store¬ 
 houses, chariot-cities, cities of horsemen, with 
 castles and towers. And they stood on the same 
 ground that this house was builded upon, even in 
 the forest of Lebanon. We know that in Israel 
 God stirred up kings who at times suppressed 
 idolatry there, and plagued the persecutors too, 
 as Jehu, Hezekiah, Josiah, <fcc. And he has 
 promised that, even in gospel times, kings ‘ shall 
 hate the whore, - make her desolate and naked, 
 and shall eat her flesh and burn her with fire. ’ 
 
 He. xvii. 12, 16. 
 
 Here now are the store-houses, chariot-cities, 
 cities of horsemen, with towers and castles, for the 
 help to the house of the forest of Lebanon, for the 
 help of the church in the wilderness, or, as you 
 have it in another place, as the serpent cast floods 
 of water out of his mouth after the woman, ‘that 
 lie might cause her to be carried away of the 
 flood. And the earth helped the woman, and the 
 earth opened her mouth and swallowed up the 
 flood which the dragon cast out of his mouth.’ 
 Re. xii. 15, 16 . Thus the Medes and Persians helped 
 to deliver the church from the clutches and strong 
 hand of the king of Babylon. 
 
 This Lebanon, therefore, was a place consider¬ 
 able and a figure of great things; the countenance 
 of the Lord Jesus is compared to it, and so is the 
 face of his spouse, and also the smell of her gar¬ 
 ment. Ca. iv. 11; v. 15 ; vii. 4. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 OF THE PORCH OF THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF 
 
 LEBANON. 
 
 Solomon also made a porch to this house of the 
 forest of Lebanon. He made several porches, as 
 one tor the temple, one for the house which lje 
 dwelt in, one for the throne of the kingdom, and 
 this that was for the house of the forest of Lebanon, 
 of all which this last is that mentioned. 
 
 ‘ And he made a porch of pillars, the length 
 thereof was fifty cubits, and the breadth thereof 
 thirty cubits; and the porch was before them, and 
 the other pillars, and the thick beam were before 
 them, i Ki. vii. 6. This porch was famous both for 
 length, and breadth, and strength, it was able to 
 contain a thousand men. It was like that of the 
 tower of David; otherwise called the stronghold, 
 the castle of Zion, which is the city of David. 2 Sa. 
 
 v. 7. 1 Ch. xi. 5. Mi. iv. 8. 
 
 This tower of David was built for an armoury, 
 wheieon there hanged a thousand bucklers, all 
 shields of mighty men. It was fifty cubits long 
 
 and thii ty broad, a spacious place, a large recep¬ 
 tacle for any that liked to take shelter there. It 
 was made of pillars, even as the house within was, 
 or it stood upon pillars. The pillars, you know' 
 I told you before, were to show us what mighty 
 men, 01 what men of mighty grace, God would 
 have in his church in the wilderness furnished with. 
 And it is worth your observing here also we have 
 pillars, pillars. And he made the porch of pillars, 
 that is, of pillars of cedar, as the rest of the pillars 
 of the house were. 
 
 ‘ And the porch was before them.’ That is, as 
 I take it, an entering porch, less than the space 
 within, so that the pillars, neither as to number 
 nor bigness, could be seen without, until at least 
 they that had a mind to see entered the mouth 
 of the porch. And by this was fitly prefigured 
 how unseen the strength of the church under per¬ 
 secution is of all that are without her. Alas! 
 they think that she will be run down with a push, 
 or, as they said, ‘What do these feeble Jews? 
 Will they fortify themselves? Will they sacrifice? 
 Will they make an end in a day ? Will they revive 
 the stones out of the heaps of the rubbish which 
 are burnt?’ Alas! ‘ if a fox go up he shall even 
 break down their stone wall.’ Ne. iv. 2 , 3 . 
 
 But do you think these men saw the strength of 
 the Jews now? No, no, their pillars were within, 
 and so were shadowed from their eyes. David 
 himself could not tell what judgment to make of 
 the way of the world against the people of God, 
 until he went into the sanctuary of God. Fs.ixxiii.i 6 ,i 7 . 
 
 How then can the world judge of the condition 
 of the saints? Alas, had they known the church’s 
 strength, surely they would not, as they have, so 
 furiously assaulted the same. But what have they 
 got by all they have done, either against the head 
 or body of the same? She yet has being in the 
 world, and will have, shall have, though all the 
 nations on earth should gather themselves together 
 against it. Nor is it the cutting off of many that 
 will make her cease to flourish. Alas, were she 
 not sometimes pruned and trimmed her boughs 
 would stand too thick. Those* therefore that are 
 taken away with God’s pruning-hooks are removed, 
 that the under branches may grow the better. 1 
 But, I say, to extinguish her it is in vain for any 
 to hope for that. She stands upon pillars, on rocks, 
 on the munition of rocks; stand therefore she must, 
 whether the world believes it or no. 
 
 ‘ And the other pillars - were before them, or, 
 as the margin has it, ‘ according to them. ’ The 
 other pillars, that is, they more inward, those that 
 
 1 Thus the blood of the martyrs was the seedtime of tho 
 church, and it produced au abundant harvest. That God suf¬ 
 fered the choicest of his saints to pass through such dreadful 
 sufferings in their way to glory, is a proof that God’s ways are 
 not our ways, but they are infinite in wisdom and mercy.— (Ed.) 
 
534 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 were in the body of the house. Christ doth not, 
 as the poor world doth, that is, set the best leg 
 before; the pillars that were more inward in the 
 house were as good as those in the front. It is 
 true some are appointed to death to show to the 
 world the strength of grace, not that he can help 
 nobody to that strength but they. The most 
 teeble of his dock, when Christ shall stand by 
 and strengthen them, are able to do and bear 
 what the strong have underwent. For so he 
 saith. 
 
 And ‘ the other pillars and the thick beams were' 
 according to them; nay, ‘before them.’ Indeed, 
 they that are left seem weak and feeble if com¬ 
 pared to them that have already been tried with 
 lire and sword and all the tortures of men. But 
 that grace by which they were helped that have 
 done such mighty acts already, can help those 
 who seem more weak yet to go beyond them. God 
 strengtheneth ‘ the spoiled against the strong, so 
 that the spoiled shall come against the fortress.’ 
 Am. v. 9. Or, as another scripture has it, ‘ The 
 lame take the prey.’ is. xxxiii. 23. So that you see 
 here is all substance. All here are pillars and 
 thick beams, both in the house and in the porch. 
 
 The conclusion therefore is:—The true members 
 of the church in the wilderness are strong, mighty, 
 being made able by the grace of God for their 
 standing, and being also coupled and compacted 
 together with the biggest bands or thickest beams 
 that the Holy Ghost puts forth to bind and hold 
 this church together. And there is reason for it. 
 The church is God’s tower or battery by which he 
 beateth down Antichrist, or if you will have it in 
 the words of the prophet, ‘ Thou art my battle-axe 
 and Aveapons of war; for with thee (saith God) 
 will I break in pieces,’ Ac. Je. li. 19. 20. Wherefore, 
 since the church is set for defence of religion, and 
 to be as a battery to beat down Antichrist, it is 
 requisite that she should be made up of pillars of 
 strong and staunch materials . 1 
 
 The largeness of the porch was commodious; it 
 was the next shelter, or the place whereunto they 
 of the house of the forest of Lebanon, when pur¬ 
 sued, might resort or retreat with the less difficulty. 
 Thus the church in the wilderness has her porch, 
 her place, her bosom, whereunto her discouraged 
 may continually resort, and take up and be re- 
 ireshed. As Abiathar thrust in to David and his 
 men in the wilderness, in the day when Saul had 
 slain his father, and of his brethren, even ‘ four¬ 
 score and five persons that did wear a linen ephod.’ 
 
 1 Sa. xxii. 17 — 23 . 
 
 When the apostles were persecuted ‘ they went 
 to their own company,’ because the Lord was 
 
 1 Consult Bunyan’s admirable treatise, Of Antichrist and 
 his Ruin. —Vol. ii., p. 41. 
 
 I there. Ac. iv. 23. There we find the pillars, and 
 have both solace and example. There, as Pom- 
 ponius said of his person, stands Christ Jesus in 
 the front as Captain of the Lord’s host, and round 
 about him the old fathers, prophets, apostles, and 
 martyrs. This porch, therefore, I take to be a 
 figure of those cordial and large affections which 
 the church in the wilderness has to all, and for 
 all them that love the truth, and that suffer and 
 are afflicted for the sincere profession thereof. 
 
 This porch was bigger than that which belonged 
 to the temple by much, to show that those that are 
 made the objects of the enemies’ rage most are 
 usually most prepared with affection for them 
 that are in the same condition. Fellow^-feelino 1 is 
 
 O 
 
 a great matter. It is said of the poor afflicted 
 people that were in Macedonia ‘ in a great trial of 
 affliction, the abundance of their joy and their deep 
 poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality; 2 
 for to their power, - yea, and beyond their power,’ 
 they showed their charity to the destroyed church 
 of Jerusalem. 2 Co. viiL 1-4. 
 
 And a porch in a forest, or a bosom in a wilder¬ 
 ness, is seasonable to them that in the wilderness 
 are faint and weary. Nabal shut up his doors 
 against David, and therefore he died like a beast. 
 Poor David! thou wast bewildered, but this churl 
 had no compassion for thee. 1 Sa. xxv. 5-13, 25-39. 
 Blest Obadiah, thou hadst a bosom, and bread, 
 and hiding-places for the church, when rent and 
 torn by the fury of Jezebel, and thou hast for it 
 thy reward in heaven. 1 Ki. xviii. 3,4. Mat. x.42. Ebed- 
 melech, because he had compassion on Jeremiah 
 when he was in the dungeon, God did not only 
 give him his life for a prey, but promised him the 
 effects of putting his trust in the Lord. Je. xxxviii. 
 7 - 11 ; xxxix. 15 — 18 . 
 
 And he made a porch of pillars. The porch is 
 but the entrance of the house, whither many go 
 that yet step not into the house, but make their 
 retreat from thence; but it is because they are 
 non-residents, they only come to see; or else, if 
 they pretended more, it was not from the heart. 
 ‘They went out from us,’ said John, ‘but they 
 were not of iffl; for if they had been of us they 
 would, no doubt, have continued with us; but they 
 went out that they might be made manifest that 
 they were not all of us. ’ 1 Jn. ii. 19. 
 
 And forasmuch as this porch Avas fifty cubits 
 long, men may take many a step straight forward 
 
 2 How easily is this riddle resolved by those who visit the 
 afflicted. The Christian poor beat the rich out and out in 
 charity. I he poor mother rises long before her usual time, and 
 having fitted her own children for school, runs to her sick 
 neighbour to do the same for her little ones, frequently sharing 
 with them her own children’s food; and then, like an angel of 
 mercy, watches over and comforts her sick neighbour. Such 
 is the unostentatious Christian charity found among the Chris¬ 
 tian poor. 0 that it may more and more abound. —(Ed.) 
 
535 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE 
 
 therein and be but in the porch yet. 1 Even as we 
 have seen men go, as one would think, till they 
 are out of view in the porch of this church in the 
 wilderness, but presently you have them without 
 the door again. 
 
 Ti ue, this porch was made of pillars, and so to 
 c\cij one, at first entrance, it showed the power 
 of the place; the church in the wilderness also is 
 so builded that men may see it is ordained for 
 defence. Men also, at their first offer to step over 
 the threshold there, with mouth profess that they 
 will dwell as soldiers there. But words are but 
 vind; when they see the storm a-coming they will 
 take caie to shift for themselves. This house, or 
 church in the wilderness, must see to itself for all 
 them. 
 
 As the house therefore is a figure of the church 
 in the wilderness, so, so great a porch belonging 
 to it may be also to show that numbers may there 
 be entertained that, if need be, will quickly whip 
 out again. Although therefore the porch was 
 made of pillars, yet every one that walked there 
 were not such. The pillars was to show them, 
 not what they were, but what they should be that 
 entered into this house. 
 
 The church also in the wilderness, even in her 
 porch or first entrance into it, is full of pillars, 
 apostles, prophets, and martyrs of Jesus. There 
 also hang up the shields that the old warriors 
 have used, and are plastered upon the walls the 
 brave achievements which they have done. There 
 are also such encouragements there for those 
 that stand, that one would think none that came 
 thither with pretence to serve there would, for very 
 shame, attempt to go back again; and yet, not to 
 theii credit be it spoken, they will forsake the 
 place without blushing, yea, and. plead for this 
 theii so doing. But I have done with the explica¬ 
 tory part, and conclude that from these ten par¬ 
 ticulars thus handled in this book, the house of the 
 forest of Lebanon was a type, or figure, of the 
 church in the wilderness. 
 
 Nor do I know, if this be denied, how so fitly to 
 apply some of these texts which speak to the church, 
 to support her under her troubles, of the comforts 
 that afterwards she shall enjoy, since they are 
 piesented to her under such metaphors as clearly 
 denote she was once in a wilderness, for distance, 
 
 1. ‘ Smg, 0 ye heavens; for the Lord hath done 
 & (that is, redeemed his servant Jacob from his 
 teins and from the hand of the enemy): shout, ye 
 lower parts of the earth (or church once trampled 
 under feet): break forth into singing, ye mountains, 
 
 • -r/ lC3C j lome 'drusts at conscience, so constantly met with 
 
 in 13 any an s works, should have the effect of exciting us to 
 solemn self-examination. May we never be contented with 
 the porch, but enter aud enjoy the riches of Divine grace. 
 
 FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 0 forest, and every tree therein (here is comfort 
 for the church under the name of a forest, that in 
 which the house we have been speaking of was 
 built): for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and 
 glorified himself in Israel.’ is. xiiv.23. To what, I 
 say, can this text more fitly be applied, than to 
 the church in the wilderness, put here under the 
 name of a forest as well as under the title of 
 heaven? Yea, methinks it is cried hereto her, 
 
 ‘ 0 forest,’ on purpose to intimate to us that the 
 house in the forest of Lebanon was the figure of 
 the church in this condition. 
 
 2. Again, ‘ Is it not yet a very little while, and 
 Lebanon shall be turned into a fruitful field, and 
 the fruitful field shall be esteemed as a forest? 
 And in that day shall the deaf hear the words of 
 the book,, and the eyes of the blind shall see out 
 of obscurity, and out of darkness. The meek also 
 shall increase their joy in the Lord, and the poor 
 among men shall rejoice in the holy One of Israel. 
 For the terrible one is brought to nought, and the 
 scorner is consumed, and all that watch for iniquity 
 are cut off.’ Is. xxix. 17-20. Lebanon was a forest, 
 but now she must be a fruitful field. What means 
 he here by Lebanon but the church under perse¬ 
 cution, and the fruitful field? Mistress Babylon 
 shu.ll become as a forest, that is, as the church 
 under distress. But when shall this be? Why, 
 when the terrible one is brought low and the 
 scorner is consumed, &c. 
 
 W hat can be more plain than this to prove that 
 Lebanon, even the house in the forest of Lebanon, 
 for that is here intended, was a figure of the church 
 in the wilderness, or in a tempted and persecuted 
 state. For to be turned into a fruitful field signi¬ 
 fies the recovering of the afflicted church into a 
 state most quiet and fruitful; fruitful fields are 
 quiet because they are fenced, and so shall the 
 church be in that day. 
 
 o. ‘ The wilderness and the solitary place shall 
 be glad for them; aud the desert shall rejoice, and 
 blossom as the rose. is. xxxv. i. 
 
 A hat are we to understand by these words if 
 they be not a prophecy of the flourishing state of 
 Christ s kingdom, who, in the days of her perse¬ 
 cution, is compared to a wilderness, to a desert, 
 and to solitary places. And she ‘ shall be glad 
 for them ;’ for what? for that she is rid of the 
 dragons, wild beasts, satyrs, screech owls, great 
 owl, aud vulture, types of the beasts and unclean 
 birds of Antichrist. Is. xxxiv. 13—15. 
 
 She shall be glad for them that they are taken 
 away from her and placed far away, for then no 
 lion shall be there nor any ravenous beast; yea, 
 it is the habitation of dragons, where each lay, 
 shall be grass, with reeds and rushes, as it is, 
 is. xxxv. And now ‘ the lame man shall leap as a 
 hart, and the tongue of the dumb sing; for in the 
 
536 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in 
 the desert.’ Read the whole chapter. 
 
 For that the desert and wilderness is thus men¬ 
 tioned, and that to express the state of the church 
 in trouble by, it is clear that Lebanon is not ex¬ 
 cluded, nor the thing that is signified thereby, 
 which, I say, is the church in her low estate, in 
 her forest, or wilderness condition. 
 
 4. ‘ I will plant in the wilderness the cedar, 
 the shittah-tree, and the myrtle, and the oil-tree; 
 I will set in the desert the fir-tree, and the pine, 
 and the box-tree together.’ Is. xii. 19 . 
 
 Can any think that trees are the things taken 
 care of here? They are the men that Antichrist 
 has murdered in his heat and rage against Christ, 
 the which God will restore again to his church, when 
 Antichrist is dead and buried in the sides of the 
 pit’s mouth. And that you may the better under¬ 
 stand he meaneth so, he expresseth again the state 
 of the church as like to a wilderness condition, and 
 promiseth that in that very church, now so like a 
 wilderness, to plant it again with Christians, flour¬ 
 ishing with variety of gifts and graces, signified by 
 the various nature and name of the trees spoken of 
 here. 
 
 5. ‘ Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall 
 spring forth; shall ye not know it ? I will even 
 make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the 
 desert. The beast of the field shall honour me, the 
 dragons and the owls ; because I give waters in the 
 wilderness, and rivers in the desert, to give drink 
 to my people, my chosen.’ is. xliii. 19, so. Here God 
 alludes to the condition of the children of Israel 
 in the wilderness of old, and implies they shall be 
 in a wilderness again; and as then he gave them 
 water, and delivered them from serpents, cocka¬ 
 trices, vipers, dragons, so he will do now, now to 
 liis people, his chosen. 
 
 6 . ‘ The Lord shall comfort Zion: he will comfort 
 all her waste places; and he will make her wilder¬ 
 ness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of 
 the Lord ; joy and gladness shall be found therein, 
 thanksgiving, and the voice of melody. ’ is. li. 3. 
 
 See here are Zion’s waste places, Zion’s Avilder- 
 ness, forest, or Lebanon. Next here is a promise 
 that he will comfort her; and what doth this suppose 
 but that she was in her wilderness state, uncom¬ 
 fortable at least as to her outward peace, her 
 liberty, and gospel privileges and beauties? Then 
 here is the comparison, by which he illustrates his 
 promise as to what degree and pitch he will com¬ 
 fort her. ‘ He will make her wilderness like Eden, 
 and her desert like the garden of the Lord.’ The 
 effects of all which will be she will have joy and 
 gladness ; she will be thankful, and be melodious in 
 her voice, in her soul to the Lord. This, I say, will 
 follow upon her deliverance from her desert, her 
 wilderness, her desolate, and comfortless state: all 
 
 which is more fully expressed by her repeated halle¬ 
 lujahs. Re. xix. 1—6. Which hallelujahs there are the 
 effect of her deliverance from the rage of the beast 
 and great whore, of whose greatness and ruin you 
 read in the two foregoing chapters. Now, I say, 
 since the church was to he in a wilderness condition 
 under the gospel; and since we have this house of 
 the forest of Lebanon so particularly set forth in 
 the Scriptures; and also since this house, its furni¬ 
 ture, its troubles, and state, do so paint out this 
 church in this wilderness state, I take it to he for 
 that very thing designed, that is to say, to prefigure 
 this church in this her so solitary and wilderness 
 state. 
 
 [Conclusion.] 
 
 We will now therefore here make a brief conclu¬ 
 sion of all. 
 
 First. This may inform us of the reason of the 
 deplorable state of a professing people. It is allotted 
 to them in this world to be so. The world, and 
 men of the world, must have their tranquillity here, 
 and must be possest of all; this was foreshown in 
 Esau, who had of his sons many that were dukes 
 and kings before there was any king in Israel. Ge. 
 xxxvi. 31. God so disposing of things that all may 
 give place when his Son shall come to reign in 
 Mount Zion, and before his ancients gloriously, 
 which coming of his will be at the resurrection, and 
 end of this world, and then shall his saints reign 
 with him; ‘ when Christ, who is our life, shall appear, 
 then shall ye also appear with him in glory.’ Coi.m. 4 . 
 
 Let not therefore kings, and princes, and poten¬ 
 tates be afraid; the saints that are such indeed, 
 know their places, and are of a peaceable deport¬ 
 ment ; ‘ the earth God hath given to the children 
 of men,’ and his kingdom to the sons of God. Ps. 
 
 cxv. 16. Mat. xxv. 34. Lu. xii. 32. 
 
 I know there are extravagant opinions in the 
 world about the kingdom of Christ, as if it consisted 
 in temporal glory in part, and as if he would take 
 it to him by carnal weapons, and so maintain it in 
 its greatness and grandeur; but I confess myself 
 an alien to these notions, and believe and profess 
 the quite contrary, and look for the coming of Christ 
 to judgment personally, and betwixt this and that, 
 for his coming in Spirit, and in the power of his 
 word to destroy Antichrist, to inform kings, and so 
 give quietness to his church on earth; which shall 
 assuredly be accomplished, 1 when the reign of the 
 
 1 The gradual spread of the gospel, like the leaven, must 
 eventually leaven the whole. How astonishing has been its 
 progress since Bunyan entered the celestial city. If his happy 
 spirit hovers as a guardian angel about the saints at Bedford, 
 how must he rejoice in the change. The iron hand of despotic 
 oppression laid low; his old prison swept away; the meetings 
 in dells, and woods, and barns, exchanged for large and com¬ 
 modious places of worship. How he must wonder at our w r ant of 
 > gratitude, and love, and zeal, in return for such mercies.—(E d.) 
 
537 
 
 THE HOUSE OF THE 
 
 beast, the whore, the false prophet, and of the man 
 of sin is out. 2Tlies. iL 8. Is. xlix. 23j liL 15; lr. 3,10,11,16; 
 lxii. 2. Re. xxi. 24. 
 
 Second. Let this teach men not to think tliat the 
 church is cursed of God, because she is put in a 
 wilderness state. Alas, that is but to train her up 
 in a way of solitariness, to make her Canaan the 
 more welcome to her. Rest is sweet to the labour¬ 
 ing man. Yea, this condition is the first step to 
 heaven; yea, it is a preparation to that kingdom. 
 God’s ways are not as man’s. ‘ I have chosen thee,’ 
 saith he, ‘in the furnace of affliction.’ When Israel 
 came out of Egypt, they were led of God into the 
 wilderness; but why ? That he might have them 
 to a land, that he had espied for them, that he 
 might bring them to a city of habitation. Eze. xx. 6 . 
 Ps. cvii. 1—7. 
 
 The world know not the way of the Lord, nor the 
 judgment of our God. Do you think that saints 
 that dwell in the world, and that have more of the 
 mind of God than the world, would, could so rejoice 
 in God, in the cross, in tribulations and distresses, 
 were they not assured that through many tribula¬ 
 tions is the very roadway to heaven. Ac. xiv. 22. 
 
 Let this then encourage the saints to hope, and 
 to rejoice in hope of the glory of God, notwithstand¬ 
 ing present tribulations. This is our seed-time, our 
 
 FOREST OF LEBANON. 
 
 winter; afflictions are to try us of what mettle we 
 aie made; yea, and to shake off worm-eaten fruit, 
 and such as are rotten at core. Troubles for Christ’s 
 sake are but like the prick of an awl in the tip of 
 the ear, in order to hang a jewel there. 
 
 Let this also put the saints upon patience: when 
 we know that a trial will have an end, we are by 
 that knowledge encouraged to exercise patience. 
 I have a bad master, but I have but a year to serve 
 under him, and that makes me serve him with pa¬ 
 tience; I have but a mile to go in this dirty way, 
 and then I shall have my path pleasant and green, 
 and this makes me tread the dirty way with patience. 
 I am now in my rags, but by that a quarter of a 
 year is come and gone, two hundred a year comes 
 into my hand, wherefore I will wait, and exercise 
 patience. Thus might I multiply comparisons. Be 
 patient then, my brethren; but how long? to the 
 coming of the Lord. But when will that be? the 
 coming of the Lord draws nigh. 
 
 ‘Be patient,’ my brethren, belong patient, even 
 ‘ unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the hus¬ 
 bandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, 
 and hath long patience for it, until he receive the 
 early and latter rain. Be ye also patient; stablish 
 your hearts: for the coming of the Lord draweth 
 
 nigh.’ Ja. v. 7, 8. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 68 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE; 
 
 OK, 
 
 A DISCOURSE SHOWING THE RICHNESS AND GLORI 
 
 OF THE 
 
 GRACE AND SPIRIT OF THE GOSPEL, 
 
 AS SET FORTH IN SCRIPTURE* BY THIS TERM, THE WATER OF LIFE, 
 
 By JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 * And whosoever will , let him take the water of life freely .’—Rev. xxii. 17. 
 
 London: Printed for Nathanael Ponder, at the Peacock in the Poultry, 1683. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 Often, and in every age, the children of God have 
 dared to doubt the sufficiency of Divine grace; 
 whether it was vast enough to reach their condi¬ 
 tion—to cleanse them from the guilt of all their 
 sins—and to fit their souls to dwell with infinite 
 holiness in the mansions of the blessed. To solve 
 these doubts—to answer these anxious inquiries, 
 Bunyan wrote many of his works; for although 
 he was a Boanerges, or son of thunder, to awaken 
 the impenitent, he was eminently a Barnabas—a 
 son of consolation—an evangelist to direct the 
 trembling inquirer to Christ the way, the truth, 
 and the life. He proclaims first, from his own ex¬ 
 perience, that there is ‘Grace abounding to the 
 Chief of Sinners;’ then he proclaims ‘ Good News 
 for the Vilest of Men, the Jerusalem Sinner is 
 Saved’—‘ Christ is an Advocate’—‘ Christ is a 
 complete Saviour.’ Every one is invited with a 
 ‘Come and welcome to Jesus Christ.’ There is 
 ‘Justification by his Righteousness’—‘Salvation 
 by his Grace.’ ‘He is a Throne of Grace’ to which 
 all are freely invited. Even ‘ The Broken Heart 
 is an acceptable sacrifice.’ There is * The Holy 
 City, New Jerusalem,’to receive such at the end 
 of their pilgrimage, and directions amply given to 
 the pilgrim to guide him in his progress to the 
 celestial city; and he now introduces us to a 
 majestic overflowing river, ‘ The Water of Life,’ 
 sufficient for the refreshment and solace of the 
 myriads of God’s saints who have lived from the 
 creation, and will live until the final consummation 
 of all things, when the prophet in holy vision saw 
 * a great multitude which no man could number, of 
 all nations, and kindreds, and people, stand before 
 the throne, and before the Lamb.’ This work was 
 the result of the author’s mature experience, being 
 published by him during the last year of his event¬ 
 ful life. In it he refers to one of those ten excel¬ 
 lent manuscripts left by him at his decease, pre- 
 
 BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 pared for the press, and afterwards published by 
 Mr. Doe. It is called, The Saint's Privilege and 
 Profit. The way in which he alludes to this, as if 
 it had been printed, shows that he had fully deter¬ 
 mined to publish it shortly, and this, if it was needed, 
 would confirm our confidence in those treatises. 
 He thus refers to it: ‘ Because I have spoken of 
 this thing, more particularly upon that text, “ Let 
 us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace,” 
 I shall therefore here say no more.’ 
 
 Two things are rather extraordinary with regard 
 to this valuable treatise on the Water of Life. 
 One is, that although inserted in every list of 
 our author’s works, both published by himself and 
 by his friends after his decease, it escaped the 
 researches of Doe, Wilson, Chandler, Whitfield, and 
 others who collected and published Bunyan’s works, 
 excepting only the edition with Mason’s notes, 
 printed for A. Hogg about 1785. The other 
 singular circumstance is, that although the separate 
 treatises of Bunyan were all most wretchedly and 
 inaccurately printed, the Water of Life has in 
 this respect suffered more than any other of his 
 works. A modern edition of this book, published 
 at Derby by Thomas Richardson, is, without ex¬ 
 ception, the most erroneously printed of all books 
 that have come under my notice. The Scriptures 
 are misquoted—words are altered so as to pervert 
 the sense—whole sentences and paragraphs, and 
 even whole pages in three or four places, and, in 
 one instance, four consecutive pages, are left out!!! 
 I should he grieved if more penal enactments were 
 added to our statutes, but surely there should be 
 some punishment for such a crime as this. The 
 other editions are more reputable, but very incor¬ 
 rect. One of them bears the imprint of ‘Loudon, 
 for James Bunyan, 1760.’ Another has ‘London, 
 sold by Baxter, Doolittle, & Burkit,’ evidently 
 fictitious names, adopted from those three great 
 
THE ETISTLE TO THE READER. 
 
 539 
 
 authors. The Pilgrim's Progress was twice pub¬ 
 lished by D. Bunyan, in Fleet Street, 1763 and 
 1768; and the Heavenly Footman , ‘ London, sold by 
 J. Bunyan, above the Monument.’ All these are 
 wretchedly printed, and with cuts that would dis¬ 
 grace an old Christmas carol. Thus the public have 
 been imposed upon, and thus the revered name of 
 Luny an has been sacrificed to the cupidity of unprin¬ 
 cipled men. Had his works been respectablyprinted 
 they would have all been very popular and useful, 
 and his memory have been still more venerated. 
 
 To attract his readers to come personally, and 
 partake the blessings imparted by the water of 
 life, Bunyan shows that, as a medicine, it alone 
 is the specific to cure the sin-sick soul—all other 
 applications must fail most fatally—‘all other 
 remedies come from and return to the Dead Sea’— 
 while the water of life issues from, and leads the 
 soul to, the throne of God. It cleanseth from the 
 old leaven. The Divine Physician is ever ready to 
 administer to the wearied soul. Be not misled by 
 worldly-wisemen to take advice of the doctor’s boy, 
 but go direct to Jesus; he is ready—he is willing 
 to cure and save to the uttermost. His medicine 
 may be sharp, but merely so as to effect the cure 
 ‘ where bad humours are tough and churlish.’ ‘It 
 revives where life is, and gives life where it is not. 
 Take man from this river, and nothing can make 
 him live, let him have this water and nothing can 
 make him die. The river of water of life allegori¬ 
 cally represents the Spirit and grace of God; thus 
 the truth is mercifully set before us, for ‘ what is 
 more free than water, and what more beneficial 
 and more desirable than life?’ Vast and majestic 
 rivers convey but a faint idea of the immensity of 
 Divine grace; in comparison with which ‘the most 
 mighty mountain dwindles into the least ant’s egg 
 or atom in the world.’ p. 553 . A stream of grace 
 issued fiom the same source during* the patriarchal 
 dispensation, and then mankind were directed to it 
 by immediate revelation, or by the tradition of their 
 lathers. It extended under the Jewish or Levitical 
 law, in its course passing through the temple, issu¬ 
 ing from under the threshold of God’s house, re¬ 
 vealed by types, and shadows, and an earthly priest¬ 
 
 hood, and then ‘grace ran but slowly because Jesus 
 was not glorified.’ P . 546. Now it flows like a ma¬ 
 jestic river from the throne of God, open to all, 
 without limit of family or nation, revealed to every 
 creature by the volume of inspiration. This water 
 admits no mixture—it is pure and perfect as its 
 oiigm fiee as the air we breathe to sustain life. 
 ‘There is no grudge, or a piece of an upbraiding 
 speech heard therein.’ Any attempt to mix with 
 it human mcnts destroys all its efficacy. In it, and 
 in it only, spiritual life, exciting to works of mercy, 
 and giving sure hopes of immortal bliss, is to be 
 found. God s children can no more live separated 
 from this river than fish can live out of water. As 
 a fish, by natural instinct, avoids foul and unwhole¬ 
 some water, so a Christian has spiritual powers to 
 judge of the purity of doctrine. Like the manna 
 horn heaven, and our daily bread, it must be sup¬ 
 plied day by day. No church cistern of works of 
 supererogation can supply this pure water. All 
 such pretended supplies are poisonous. It must 
 come direct from heaven without human interfer¬ 
 ence. Those only who spiritually thirst will seek 
 it. Some prefer wine that perisheth in the using, 
 while this water, once received, becomes a well- 
 spring of living waters, springing up into everlast¬ 
 ing life. How marvellous that river which swal¬ 
 lows up all the impurities of the myriads of the 
 ledeemed, so that they are seen no more for ever. 
 These are the truths pressed upon our attention in 
 this tieatise. Well may our venerated Bunyan 
 say, while richly enjoying the blessings of this 
 liver of grace, just oefore he Avaded through the 
 black river which absorbs our earthly bodie°s—‘ 0 
 grace! 0 happy church of God! all things that 
 happen to thee are, for Christ’s sake, turned into 
 grace . p. 550 . It is a river that so reflects the 
 splendour of God, that the first sight of it was to 
 Paul above the brightness of the sun ; a light that 
 did, by the glory of it, make dark to him all the 
 things in the world. 
 
 Header, may your soul and mine be abundantly 
 refreshed from this inexhaustible river, the streams 
 whereof make glad the city of God. 
 
 Geo. Offor. 
 
 THE EPISTLE TO THE EEADEE. 
 
 Courteous Reader, 
 
 I hav e now presented thee with something of a dis¬ 
 cern se of the water of life and its virtues; therefore, 
 thou mayest, if thou wilt, call this book Bunyan’s 
 Bill of his Master’s Whiter of Life. True, I have 
 not set forth at large the excellent nature and qua¬ 
 lity thereof, nor can that so be done by the pen or 
 
 tongue of men or angels. Yet this I have said, 
 and so saying, said truly, that whosoever shall drink 
 of this water shall find it in him a well of water; 
 and not only so, but a well springing up in him to 
 everlasting life, let his disease be what it will. 
 And as men, in their bills for conviction to readers, 
 do give an account to the country of the persons 
 cured, and the diseases that have been removed by 
 
540 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 liquors an I preparations, they have made for that 
 end, so co lid I, were it not already* done by an 
 
 * By Holy Writ. infallible P en to m y hand > g ive J on 
 accounts of numberless numbers that 
 
 have not only been made to live, but to live for ever, 
 
 by drinking of this water, this pure water of life. 
 
 Many of them indeed are removed from hence, and 
 
 live where they cannot be spoken with as yet; but 
 
 abundance of them do still remain here, and have 
 
 their abode yet with men. 
 
 Only, if tliou wouldst drink it, drink it by itself, 
 and that th u mayest not be deceived by that which 
 is counterfeit, know it is as it comes from the hand 
 of our Lord, loithout mixture, pure and dear as 
 crystal. I know there are many mountebanks in 
 the world, and every of them pretend they have 
 this water to sell; but my advice is, that thou go 
 directly to the throne thyself, He. iv. 16 ; or as thou 
 art bidden come to the waters, is.iv. 1 ; and there thou 
 slialt be sure to have that which is right and good, 
 
 and that which will certainly make thee well, let 
 thy disease, or trouble, or pain, or malady, be what 
 it will. For the price, care not for that, it is cheap 
 enough, this is to be had without money or price. 
 
 I will give, saith God and the Lamb, * unto him 
 that is athirst, of the fountain of the water of life 
 fi eely. Re. xxi. 6 . Hence he says again, ‘ Whoso¬ 
 ever will, let him take the water of life freely.’ Re. 
 xxu. 17. So that thou hast no ground to keep back 
 because of thy poverty; nay, for the poor it is 
 prepared and set open, to the poor it is offered, 
 the poor and needy may have it of free cost. 1 
 Is. xli. 17, 18 . 
 
 But let it not be slighted because it is offered to 
 thee upon terms so full, so free. For thou art 
 sick, and sick unto death, if thou drinkest not of it, 
 nor is there any other than this that can heal thee, 
 and make thee well. Farewell. The Lord be thy 
 physician ! So prays thy friend, 
 
 John Bcnyan. 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 ‘ AND HE SHOWED ME A PURE RIVER OF WATER OF 
 LIFE, CLEAR AS CRYSTAL, PROCEEDING OUT OF THE 
 THRONE OF GOD AND OF THE LAMB.’ Re. XXII. 1. 
 
 These words are part of that description that one 
 of the seven angels, which had the seven vials full 
 of the seven last plagues, gave unto John of the 
 New Jerusalem, or of the state of that gospel church, 
 that shall be in the latter days. Re. xxi. 9 . Wherefore 
 he saith, ‘And he showed me; He, the angel, showed 
 me it. 
 
 In the text we have these things to consider of, 
 First. The matter, the subject matter of the 
 text, and that is the water of life. ‘ He showed 
 me the water of life. Second. We have also here 
 the quantity of this water showed to him, and that 
 is under the notion of a river: ‘ He showed me a 
 river of water of life.’ Third. He shows him also 
 the head, or well-spring, from whence this river of 
 water of life proceeds, and that is, ‘ the throne of 
 God and of the Lamb. ’ ‘ He showed me a river of 
 
 water of life, proceeding out of the throne of God, 
 and of the Lamb.’ Fourth. We have also here 
 the nature and quality of this water; it is pure, it 
 is clear as crystal: ‘ And he showed me a pure 
 river of water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding 
 out of the throne of God and of the Lamb. 
 
 [the water of life.] 
 
 [FIRST.] We will begin with the first of these, 
 to wit, with the matter, the subject matter of the 
 
 text, which is, the water of life. These words, 
 water of life, are metaphorical, or words by which 
 a thing most excellent is presented to and ampli¬ 
 fied before our faces; and that thing is the Spirit of 
 giace, the Spirit and grace of God. And the words, 
 water of life, are words most apt to present it to 
 us by; for what is more free than water, and what 
 more beneficial and more desirable than life ? 
 Therefore I say it is compared to, or called, the 
 water of life. He showed me the water of life. 
 
 That it is the Spirit of grace, or the Spirit and 
 grace of God, that is here intended: consider, First, 
 the Spirit of grace is in other places compared to 
 water: and. Second, it is also called the Spirit of 
 life. Just as here it is presented unto us, ‘He 
 showed me the water of life.’ 
 
 First. The spirit of grace is compared to water. 
 ‘Whosoever,’ saith the Lamb, ‘ drinketh of the 
 water that I shall give him, shall never thirst; but 
 the water that I shall give him shall be in him a 
 well of water springing up into everlasting life.’ j n . 
 iv. 14. What can here by water be intended, but 
 the Spirit of grace that this poor harlot, the woman 
 of Samaria, wanted, although she was ignorant of 
 her want, as also of the excellency thereof? Which 
 watei also is here said to be such as will spring 
 
 1 As God gave us existence, so, in his munificence and royal 
 bounty, he gives us his rich grace. We have nothing to give 
 m return hut grateful love. He redeems us from the captivity 
 of sin, and death, and hell. * Every beast of the forest is mine, 
 and the cattle upon a thousand hills: the world is mine, saith 
 the Almighty, with the fulness thereof.’ 0 to grace how great 
 a debtor; freely bestowed to the poor and needy.— (Ed.) 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 541 
 
 up, in them that have it, as a well into everlasting 
 life. b 
 
 Again, ‘ In the last day, that great day of the 
 feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, If anv inan 
 thirst, let him come unto me and drink.’ But of 
 what ? Why of his rivers of living* waters. But 
 what are they? Why he answers, ‘This spake he 
 of the Spirit, which they that believe on him should 
 receive.’ Jn. viL 37-33. 
 
 Yes, the prophets and servants of God in the Old 
 Testament, did take this water of life for the Spirit 
 of giace that should in the latter days be poured 
 out into the church. Hence, Isaiah calls water 
 God s Spirit and blessing, and Zechariah, the Spirit 
 of grace. ‘ I will pour water upon him that is 
 thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground: I will pour 
 my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing upon thine 
 offspring.’ is. xiiv. 3. And Zechariah saith, ‘I will 
 pour upon the house of David, and upon the inhabi¬ 
 tants of Jerusalem, the spirit of grace and of sup¬ 
 plication, - and they shall mourn,’ <fcc. zee. xii. 10 . 
 Behold, in all these places the Spirit of grace is in¬ 
 tended, and for our better understanding it is com¬ 
 pared to water, to a well of water, to springs of 
 water, and to floods of water. 
 
 Second. It is also called the Spirit of life, [either] 
 more closely, [or] more openly. 
 
 More closely , where it is called ‘living water,’ 
 
 * f^ ia t living water, and ‘ water springing up into 
 everlasting life.’ Jn. iv. 10, n, 14 ; vii. 38 . 
 
 Then mare openly or expressly it is called ‘ the 
 bpirit of life.’ ‘ And after three days and an half, 
 the Spirit of life from God entered into them, and 
 they stood upon their feet.’ Re. xi. 11 . 
 
 From hence, therefore, I conclude, that by these 
 terms, water of life, is meant the Spirit of grace, or 
 the Spirit and grace of the gospel. And the terms 
 are such as are most apt to set forth the Spirit and 
 grace of the gospel by: for, 
 
 [First. The term Water.] 
 
 1. By this term, water, an opposition to sin is pre¬ 
 sented unto us. Sin is compared to water, to 
 deadly waters, and man is said to drink it, as one 
 that drinketh waters. ‘ How much more abomin¬ 
 able and filthy is man, which drinketh iniquity like 
 water?’ Jobxv.i6. So, then, that grace and the Spirit 
 of grace is compared to water, it is to show what 
 an antidote grace is against sin; it is, as I may 
 call it, counter poison to it. It is that only thing 
 by the virtue of which sin can be forgiven, van¬ 
 quished, and overcome. 
 
 2. By this term water, you have an opposition 
 also to the curse, that is due to sin, presented unto 
 you. r l lie curse, is compared to water; the remedy 
 is compared to water. Let the curse come into the 
 bowels of the damned, saith the psalmist, like water, 
 
 Pb. dx. is. The grace of God also, as you see, is 
 compared to water. The curse is burning ; water 
 
 is cooling: the curse doth burn with hell-fire; cool- 
 ing is by the grace of the holy gospel: but tliev 
 that overstand the day of grace, shall not obtain 
 to cool their tongues so much of this water as will 
 hang on the tip of one’s finger. 1 Lu. xvi. 21, 25. 
 
 3. Water is also of a spreading nature, and so 
 is sin: wherefore sin may for this also be compared 
 to water. It overspreads the whole man, and in¬ 
 fects every member; it covereth all as doth water. 
 Grace for this cause may be also compared to water; 
 for that it is of a spreading nature, and can, if God 
 will, cover the face of the whole earth; of bodv and 
 soul. 
 
 4. Sin is of a fouling, defiling nature; and grace 
 is of a washing, cleansing nature; therefore grace, 
 and the Spirit of grace, is compared to water. ‘ I 
 will, saith God, ‘sprinkle clean water upon you, 
 (ray Spirit, ver. 27) and ye shall be clean: from all 
 h 21211 filthiness, and from all your idols, will I cleanse 
 you.’ Eze. xxxvi. 25 . 
 
 5. W ater; the element of water naturally de¬ 
 scends to and abides in low places, in valleys and 
 places which are undermost; and the grace of God 
 and the Spirit of grace is of that nature also ; the 
 hills and lofty mountains have not the rivers run¬ 
 ning over the tops of them; no, though they may 
 run ‘among them.’ But they run among the 
 valleys: and ‘ God resisteth the proud, and giveth 
 grace unto the humble,’ ‘ to the lowly.’ ja.iv. 6 . 1 p e . 
 v. 5 . Pr. iii. 34 . 
 
 6 . The grace of God is compared to water, for 
 that it is it which causeth fruitfulness; water 
 causeth fruitfulness, want of water is the cause of 
 barrenness; and this is the reason why the whole 
 world is so empty of fruit to Godward, even because 
 so few of the children of men have the Spirit of grace 
 in their hearts. But, 
 
 [Second. The term life.] 
 
 As there is a great special signification in 
 this term water, so there is in this term life, 
 water of life. ‘ He showed me the water of life.’ 
 In that, therefore, there is added to this word 
 water, that of life, it is, in the general, to show 
 what excellent virtue and operation there is in this 
 water. It is aquce vitce, water of life, or water 
 that hath a health and life in it. And this term 
 shows us, 
 
 1. That the world of graceless men are dead; 
 dead in trespasses and sins. Jn. v. 21, 25. Ep. ii. 1. Col. 
 ii. 13. Dead, that is, without life and motion God- 
 ward, in the way of the testament of his Son. 
 
 2. It also shows us that there is not any thing 
 
 2 Water is a curse, as in the dropsy, but essential to life 
 with our food. Oil is valuable, properly taken, but an irri¬ 
 tating oil to consume the bones is destructive, llow awful 
 the case of the rich man when refused a drop of water to cool 
 that lire which he had created while living, and into which he 
 had irretrievably plunged himself.—(Eu.) 
 
542 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 in the world, or in the doctrine of the world, the 
 law, that can make them live. Life is only in this 
 water, death is in all other things. * 1 The law, I 
 say, which is that that would, if anything in the 
 whole world, give life unto the world, but that yet 
 killeth, condemneth, and was added that the offence 
 might abound; wherefore there is no life either in 
 the world or in the doctrine of the world. It is 
 only in this water, in this grace of God, which is 
 here called the water of life, or God’s aquce vitce. 2 
 
 3. It is also called the water of life to show that 
 by the grace of God men may live, how dead soever 
 their sins have made them. When God will say to 
 a sinner, * live,’ though he be dead in his sins, ‘ he 
 shall live.’ ‘ When thou wast in thy blood, I said 
 unto thee, Live; yea, when thou least in thy blood, 
 I said, Live.’ Eze. xvi. 6. And again, ‘ The dead shall 
 hear the voice of the Son of God; and they that 
 hear shall live.’ Jn. v. 25. That is, when he speaks 
 words of grace, and mixeth those words with the 
 Spirit and grace of the gospel, then men shall live; 
 for such words so attended, and such words only, 
 are spirit and life. ‘ The words that I speak unto 
 you,’ saith Christ, ‘ they are spirit, and they are 
 
 life.’ J 11 . vi. 63. 
 
 4. In that this grace of God is here presented 
 unto us under the terms of water of life, it is to 
 show that some are sick of that disease that no¬ 
 thing can cure but that. There are many diseases 
 in the world, and there are also remedies for those 
 diseases; but there is a disease that nothing- will, 
 can, or shall cure, but a dram of this bottle, a 
 draught of this aquce vitce , this water of life. This 
 is intimated by the invitation, ‘ let him take the 
 water of life freely.’ Re. xxii. 17 . And again, ‘ I will 
 give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the 
 water of life freely.’ Re. xxi. 6. This is spoken 
 to the sick, to them that are sick of the disease 
 that only Christ, as a physician, with his water of 
 life, can cure. Mar. ii. 17 . But few are sick of this 
 disease, but few know what it is to be made sick 
 of this disease . 0 There is nothing can make sick 
 of this disease but the law and sin, and nothing- 
 can cure but the grace of God by the gospel, called 
 here the water of life. 
 
 1 Reliance upon an imperfect obedience to God’s holy law, 
 united with a hope, through Christ or some other means, of 
 forgiveness for not having kept some parts of that law, is 
 ‘ the doctrine of the world, 5 and of devils. It is a refuge of 
 lies, which death will fearfully sweep away. We must rely 
 wholly upon Christ, or perish.— (Ed.) 
 
 J Aquce Vitce was a cordial-water well known in Runyan’s 
 time, and much used in compounding medicines, but now al¬ 
 most forgotten. It was distilled from brewed beer, strongly 
 hopped, and well fermented. The French have an intoxicating 
 liquour called eau de vie; this is distilled from the refuse of 
 the grapes after the wine is made.— (Ed.) 
 
 Although all mankind are fatally diseased, they only feel 
 it that are made sick of sin; this is the law work, and when j 
 it takes place, then comes the new birth and salvation by the i 
 efficacy of this water of life.—(E d.) 
 
 [the greatness and abundance op the water op 
 
 LIFE.] 
 
 [SECOND.] We come now to discourse of the 
 second thing with which we are presented by the 
 text, and that is, the quantity that there is of this 
 water of life. It is a river —‘ He showed me a 
 river of water of life.’ Waters that are cordial, 
 and that have in them a faculty to give life to 
 them that want it, and to maintain life where it 
 is, are rare and scarce, and to be found only in 
 close places and little quantities; but here you 
 see there is abundance, a great deal, a river, a 
 river of water of life. In my handling of this 
 point I will show you, 
 
 First. What a river of water of life this is. 
 Second. And then draw some inferences there¬ 
 from. 
 
 First. What a river this is, this river of icater of 
 
 life* 
 
 First. It is a deep river. It is a river that is 
 not shallow, but deep, with an ‘ 0 the depth!’ Ro. 
 xi. 33 . ‘ I will make their waters deep, saith God.’ 
 
 Eze. xxxii. 14 . And again, they * have drunk of the 
 deep waters.’ Eze. xxxiv. 18. A river of water of life 
 is much, but a deep river is more. Why, soul- 
 sick sinner, sin-sick sinner, thou that art sick of 
 that disease that nothing can cure but a potion of 
 this river of the water of life, here is a river for 
 thee, a deep river for thee. Those that at first 
 are coming to God by Christ for life, are of no¬ 
 thing so inquisitive as of whether there is grace 
 enough in him to save them. But, for their com¬ 
 fort, here is abundance, abundance of grace, a 
 river, a deep river of the water of life, for them to 
 drink of. 
 
 Second . As this river is deep, so it is wide and 
 broad. Ep. iii. is. Job. xi. 9. Wherefore, as thou art to 
 know the depth, that is, that it is deep, so thou 
 art to know its breadth, that is, that it is broad; 
 it is broader than the sea, a river that cannot be 
 passed over. Eze. xivii. 5. Never did man yet go 
 from one side of this river to the other when the 
 waters indeed were risen ; and now they are risen, 
 even now they proceed out of the throne of God 
 and of the Lamb too. Hence this grace is called 
 ‘ the unsearchable riches of Christ.’ Ep. m. s. Sin¬ 
 ner, sick sinner, what sayest thou to this? Wouldst 
 thou wade? wouldst thou swim? here thou mayest 
 swim, it is deep, yet fordable at first entrance. 
 And when thou thinkest that thou hast gone 
 through and through it, yet turn again and try 
 
 4 A river inexhaustible, to supply the pure and unmixed 
 joys of heaven to all the myriads of happy glorified souls, and 
 applied by the Spirit of grace to quench the thirst of the soul 
 on earth. This grace is fixed and permanent, * springing up 
 into everlasting life. 5 Blessed Jesus, ‘ give me this water, that 
 
 I thirst not ever. 5 — (Ed.) 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 643 
 
 once more, and thou slialt find it deeper than hell, 
 and a river that cannot be passed over. If thou 
 canst swim, here thou mayest roll up and down as 
 the fishes do in the sea. 1 Nor needest thou fear 
 drowning in this river, it will bear thee up, and 
 carry thee over the highest hills, as Noali’s waters 
 did carry the ark. But, 
 
 1 hird. As this river of water of life is deep and 
 large, so it is a river that is full of waters. A 
 river may be deep and not full. A river may be 
 broad and not deep. Aye, but here is a river deep 
 and broad, and full too. ‘ Thou waterest it; thou 
 greatly enrichest it with the river of God, which is 
 full of water.’ Ps. lxv. 9. Full of grace and truth. 
 Fill the water-pots, saith Christ, up to the brim. 
 The waters of a full cup the wicked shall have; 
 and a river full of the water of life is provided for 
 those who indeed have a desire thereto. 
 
 Fourth. As this river is deep, broad, and full, 
 so it still aboundeth with water. The waters, 
 says the prophet, ‘were risen.’ Eze.xivii. 4 . Hence, 
 the Holy Ghost saith, God causeth the waters to 
 flow. Ps. cxlvit is. And again, ‘ And it shall come 
 to pass in that day (the day of the gospel) that the 
 mountains shall drop down new wine, and the hills 
 shall flow.with milk, and all the rivers of Judah 
 shall flow with waters, and a fountain shall come 
 foi th of the house of the Lord, and shall w r ater the 
 ■valley of Shittim. Joeliii. is. When a river over¬ 
 flows it has more water than its banks can bound: 
 it has water. * Behold, he smote the rock, that 
 the waters gushed out, and the streams overflowed.’ 
 Ps. lxxviii. 20 . This river of water of life, which is 
 also signified by these waters, is a river that 
 abounds and that overflows its banks in an in¬ 
 finite and unspeakable manner. Thus much for 
 the river, to wit, what a river of water of life it 
 is. It is a river deej), broad, full, and abounding 
 with this water, with this Spirit and grace of the 
 gospel. 
 
 [Inferences to be drawn from this term river.] 
 
 Second. Now I shall come to draw some infer¬ 
 ences from it, that is, from this term, a river. A 
 river of water of life. 
 
 First. Then, a river is water that is common, 
 common in the streams, though otherwise in the 
 head. This river proceeds out of the throne, and 
 so, as to its rise, it is special; it is also called 
 the water of life, and as it is such, it is special; 
 but as it is a river it is common, and of common 
 use, and for common good. Hence the grace of 
 God is called the common salvation, Jude 3, for 
 
 1 1 his water of life is as essential to the spiritual-mindedness 
 of the soul, as natural water is to the life of a fish. The grace 
 of God is the element in which only the renewed soul can live 
 and enjoy a little ot that heaven into which, as an ocean of bliss 
 this liver carries him.—(En.) 
 
 that by the word there is no restraint, no denial 
 to or forbidding of any that will, from receiving 
 thereof. 
 
 And whosoever will, let him take the water 
 of life freely. Re. xxii. 17. What can more fully 
 declare the commonness of a thing? Yea, this 
 river is called, at the very head of it, an ‘ open 
 fountain,’ a fountain opened to the house of David 
 and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem. Zee. xiii. 1. 
 And by David or Judah and Jerusalem is com¬ 
 prehended every soul that would drink of the 
 water of life or living water. And hence it is 
 that this river is said to * go down into the desert 
 and go into the sea,’ where all kinds of fishes are. 
 Eze. xivii. 8 . By sea is meant the world, and by 
 fish the people, and thither shall run this river of 
 water of life. But, 
 
 Second. Though a river, in the streams of it, is 
 common, yet a river, as it passes through a country 
 or province, will choose its own way, it will run in 
 the valleys, in the plains, not over steeples and 
 hills. It will also fetch its compasses and circuits; 
 it will go about and reach hither and thither, and 
 according to its courses it will miss by its turnings 
 what places and people it lists, yet it is common, 
 for that it lies open, yet it is common for all the 
 beasts of the field. There is, therefore, a differ¬ 
 ence to be put betwixt the commonness of a thing 
 and its presence. A thing may be common, yet 
 far enough off of thee. Epsom, Tunbridge waters, 
 and the Bath, may be common, but yet a great 
 way off of some that have need thereof. 2 The 
 same may be said of this river, it is common in 
 the streams, but it runs its own circuit, and keeps 
 its own water-courses. ‘ He sendeth the springs 
 into the valleys which run among the hills.’ Ps.civ. 10. 
 Indeed, he openeth his river in high places, in his 
 throne, and of the Lamb, but still they run in the 
 midst of the valleys to water the humble and the 
 lowly. Wherefore, they that thirst and would drink 
 are bid to come down to the waters —‘ Ho, every one 
 that thirstetli, come ye to the waters, and he that 
 hath no money, come ye, buy,’ &c. is. iv. 1. And 
 again, ‘ If any man thirst, let him come unto me 
 and drink.’ Jn. vii. 37. The waters are common, 
 but you must come to them, to them where they 
 are, or you will be nothing the better for them. 
 
 ‘ Come ye to the waters.’ 
 
 Third. This water of life is called a river, to in¬ 
 timate to you by what store of the same it is sup¬ 
 plied. All rivers have the sea for their original: 
 ‘All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not 
 full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, 
 
 2 Those that are satisfied with the world, and its enjoyments, 
 and seek not for happiness in the favour of God ; those that 
 depend on the merit of their own works for a righteousness; 
 these do not thirst—they have no sense of their need, and 
 will not condescend to come to the Fountain. —En. 
 
544 
 
 TIIE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 thither they return again.’ 1 Ec.i. 7 . And so this 
 river of water of life is said to proceed out of the 
 throne, as out of a place where it breaketh out, 
 hut the original is the sea, the ocean of grace, 
 which is an infinite Deity. ‘Thou wilt cast all 
 their sins into the depths of the sea, into the depth 
 of the sea of thy grace. ’ Mic. vii. 19. Rivers, when 
 they are broken up, do with their gliding streams 
 carry away a great deal of the filth, which from 
 all parts of the countries through which they run, 
 is conveyed into them; and they carry it away into 
 the sea, where it is everlastingly swallowed up. 2 
 And, 0! the filth that is cast into this river of 
 God! and, 0 ! how many dirty sinners are washed 
 white therein, for by its continual gliding away, it 
 carrieth that filth into the midst of the sea. 
 
 A river will take away the very stink of a dead 
 dog: nor doth all the soil and draught that is cast 
 into the rivers, cause that those that can should be 
 afraid to make use thereof: all that have need do 
 betake themselves to this river notwithstanding'. 
 But how much more virtue is there in this sweet 
 river of grace that is designed, yea, opened on pur¬ 
 pose, to wash away sin and uncleanness in, to carry 
 away all our filth, and to remain as virtuous still! 
 
 Fourth. It is called a river, to show that it yields 
 a continual supply, as I may call it, of new and 
 fresh grace. Rivers yield continually fresh and 
 new water. For though the channel or water¬ 
 course in which the water runs is the same, yet 
 the waters themselves are always new. That 
 water that but one minute since stood in this place 
 or that of the river, is now gone, and new and fresh 
 is come in its place. And thus it is wfith the river 
 of God, which is full of water; it yieldeth continu¬ 
 ally fresh supplies, fresh and new supplies of grace 
 to those that have business in those waters. And 
 this is the reason that when sin is pardoned, it 
 seems as if it were carried away. Those waters 
 have, with their continual streams, carried away 
 the filth of the sinner from before his face. It is 
 not so with ponds, pools, and cisterns; they will 
 be foul and stink, if they be not often emptied, and 
 filled again with fresh water. We must then put 
 a difference between the grace that dwelleth in us, 
 and this river of water of life. We are but as 
 ponds, pools, and cisterns, that can hold but little, 
 and shall also soon stink, notwithstanding the grace 
 of God is in us, if we be not often emptied from 
 
 1 The rain is taken from the sea by water-spouts or in va¬ 
 pour; it is wonderfully distilled, and descends upon the earth 
 in fertilizing showers which supply the rivers. In proportion 
 to the rain or melting of the snow, is the quantity of water in 
 the rivers. Bunyan was taught all this phenomena of nature, 
 by a single verse in the inspired volume which he quotes. How 
 wonderful is that Book !— (Ed.) 
 
 2 This is a most astonishing natural phenomenon: that such 
 
 a river as the Thames, receiving constantly all the filth of a 
 vast metropolis, containing more that two millions of inhabi¬ 
 tants, buries it all, and yet purifieth itself.— (Ed.) 
 
 vessel to vessel, and filled with fresh grace from 
 this river. Je. xiviii. n. But the river is always sweet, 
 nor can all the filth that is washed out of the world 
 make it stink, or infect it: its water runs with a 
 continual gliding stream, and so carries away all 
 annoyance, as was said, into the depth of the sea. 
 
 Fifth. The grace of God is called a river, to 
 show that it is only suited to those who are capable 
 of living therein. Water, though it is that which 
 every creature desireth, yet it is not an element in 
 which every creature can live. Who is it that 
 would not have the benefit of grace, of a throne 
 of grace? But who is it that can live by grace ? 
 Even none, but those whose temper and con¬ 
 stitution is suited to grace. Hence, as the grace 
 of God is compared to a river, so those that 
 live by grace are compared to fish : for that as 
 water is that element in which the fish liveth, so 
 grace is that which is the life of the saint. ‘And 
 there shall be a very great multitude of fish, be¬ 
 cause these waters shall come thither; for they 
 shall be healed, and everything shall live whither 
 the river cometh.’ Eze.xM.9. Art thou a fish, 0 
 man, art thou a fish ? Canst thou live in the 
 water; canst thou live always, and nowhere else, 
 but in the Avater? Is grace thy proper element? 
 The fish dieth if she be taken out of the Avater, 
 unless she be timely put in again ; the saint dieth 
 if he be not in this river. Take him from this 
 river, and nothing can make him live; let him 
 have water, water of life enough, and nothing can 
 make him die. 
 
 I know that there are some things besides fish, 
 that can make a shift to live in the water; but the 
 Avater is not their proper, their only proper element. 
 The frog can live in the water, but not in the Avater 
 only; the otter can live in the water, but not in 
 the Avater only. Give some men grace and the 
 world, grace and sin; admit them to make use of 
 their lusts for pleasure, and of grace to remove 
 their guilt, and they Avill make a pretty good shift, 
 as Ave say; they will finally scrabble on in a pro¬ 
 fession ; but hold them to grace only, confine their 
 life to grace, put them into the river, and let them 
 have nothing but river, and they die; the word, 
 and Avay, and nature of grace, is to them as light 
 bread , 3 and their soul can do no other but loath 
 it, for they are not suited and tempered for that 
 element. They are fish, not frogs, that can live 
 in the river, as in their only proper element. 
 Wherefore, the grace of God, and Spirit of grace, is 
 compared to a river, to show that none but those 
 can live thereby whose souls and spirits are suited 
 and fitted thereto. 
 
 Sixth. The grace, and Spirit of grace of God, is 
 
 3 Light bread is an allusion to Nu. xxi. 5: ‘ our soul loath- 
 etk this light bread.’ The heavenly manna, like Christ, is de¬ 
 spised and rejected of man.—(E d.) 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 545 
 
 called or compared to a river, to answer those un- 
 satiable desires, and to wash away those mountain¬ 
 ous doubts that attend those that indeed do thirst 
 for that drink. The man that thirsteth with 
 spiritual thirst, fears nothing more than that there 
 is not enough to quench his thirst. All the pro¬ 
 mises and sayings of God’s ministers to such a man 
 seem hut as thimbles instead of howls. p 8 . ixiii. i ; 
 cxiiii. 6. I mean so long as his thirst and doubts 
 walk hand in hand together. There is not enough 
 in this promise; I find not enough in that promise 
 to quench the drought of my thirsting soul. He that 
 thirsteth aright, nothing but God can quench his 
 thirst. ‘ My soul thirsteth for God, for the living 
 God. r*. xiii. 2 ; ixiii.. lj cxiiii. 6. Well, what shall be 
 done for this man ? Will his God humour him, 
 and answer his desires ? Mark what follows : 
 
 ‘ When the poor and needy seek water, and there 
 is none, (and they can find none, when all the pro¬ 
 mises seem to be dry, and like clouds that return 
 after the rain), ‘ and their tongue faileth for thirst, 
 I, the Lord, will hear them.’ Aye, but Lord, what 
 wilt thou do to quench their thirst? ‘I will open 
 rivers,’ saitli he, ‘in high places, and fountains in 
 the midst of the valleys. 1 will make the wilder¬ 
 ness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of 
 water, is.xii. 17 ,18. Behold! here are rivers and 
 fountains, a pool, and springs, and all to quench 
 the thirst of them that thirst for God. 
 
 t herefore, as I said, such provision for the 
 thirsty intimates their fears of want and the crav- 
 ing appetite of their souls after God. Bight spirit¬ 
 ual thirst is not to be satisfied without abundance 
 of grace. And ‘ they shall be abundantly satisfied 
 with the fatness of thy house, and thou shalt make 
 them drink of the river of tli}'pleasures.’ Ps.xxxvi.8. 
 
 Seventh. The grace cf God is compared to a 
 river, to show the greatness of the family of God. 
 He has a family, a great family, and, therefore, it 
 is not a little that must be provided for them. 
 When Israel went out of Egypt, and thirsted by 
 the way, God provided for them a river ; he made 
 it gush out of the rock; for, alas! what less than 
 a river could quench the thirst of more than six 
 hundred thousand men, besides women and chil¬ 
 dren ? Ps. lxxviii. 20 . 
 
 I say, what less than a river could do it? When 
 the people lusted for flesh, Moses said, ‘ Shall the 
 flocks and the herds be slain for them to suffice 
 them ? or shall all the fish of the sea be gathered 
 together for them to suffice them ?’ Nu. xi. 22 . Even 
 so could not less than a river sustain and suffice 
 that great people. Now his people in gospel days 
 are not to be diminished, but increased ; and if 
 then they had need of a river, surely now of a sea ; 
 hut the river is deep and broad, full, and abounds, 
 or rises with water, so it will suffice. 
 
 Eighth. The grace of God is compared to a river, 
 
 VOL. HI. 
 
 perhaps to show of what a low esteem it is with 
 the rich and the full. The destitute indeed em¬ 
 brace the rock instead of a shelter, and the poor 
 and needy, they seek water : but they that can 
 drink wine in bowls, that can solace themselves 
 with, as they think, better things, they come not 
 to this river to drink; they never say they shall 
 die if they drink not of this water. It is, tliere- 
 foie, for the poor and needy, God will lead them 
 to his ‘living fountains of waters,’ and will ‘ wipe 
 away all tears from tiieir eyes.’ Re. vii. 17. And 
 thus I pass the second and come to the third par- 
 ticulai, and that is, to show the head and spring 
 fiom whence this river proceeds, or springs, 
 
 [the HEAD OR WELL-SPRING OF TnE WATER OF 
 
 LIFE.] 
 
 [THIRD.] Rivers have their heads from whence 
 they rise, out of which they spring, and so, accord- 
 in g ] J> read this river has; wherefore he saith, 
 
 ‘ He showed me a pure river of water of life, clear 
 as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and 
 of the Lamb.’ 
 
 [God.] God is here to be taken for the whole 
 Godhead, Father, Son, and Spirit, for that grace 
 proceeds from them all; the grace of the Father, 
 the grace of the Son, and the grace of the Spirit 
 is here included. Hence, as the Father is called 
 ‘the God of grace:’ iPe.v.io ; so the Son is said to 
 be full of grace, grace to be communicated, Jn. i. 
 14-16, and the Holy Ghost is called ‘ the Spirit of 
 grace. lie. x. 29 . So then by this we perceive whence 
 grace comes. Were all the world gracious, if God 
 were not gracious, what was man the better ? If 
 the Father, or the Son, or the Holy Ghost, are 
 giac-ious, if they were not all gracious, what would 
 it profit ? But now God is gracious, the three 
 persons in the Godhead are gracious, and so long 
 they that seek grace are provided for ; for that, 
 tlieie pi oceeds from them a river, or grace like a 
 flowing stream; indeed the original of grace to 
 sinners is the good will of God ; none can imagine 
 how loving God is to sinful man. A little of It is 
 seen, but they that see most, see but a little. 
 
 [The Lamb.] But there is added, ‘ and of the 
 Lamb.’ The Lamb is, Jesus as sacrificed, Jesus 
 as man, and suffering. Hence you have the Lamb, 
 at the first vision of the throne, set forth unto us, 
 that is, as slain. ‘ And I beheld, and lo, in the 
 midst of the throne and of the four beasts, and in 
 the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb as it had 
 been slain.’ Re. v. c. Wherefore, by this word 
 Lamb, we are to understand who, or by what 
 means, grace doth now run from the throne of God, 
 like a river, to the world. It is because of, or 
 through the Lamb. We are ‘justified freely by 
 the grace of God through the redemption that 
 
 (J9 
 
546 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 is in Christ Jesus, whom God hath set forth to be 
 a propitiation, through faith in his blood.’ Ro. m. 24. 
 And again, ‘We have redemption through his 
 blood,’ even ‘ the forgiveness of sins, according to 
 the riches of God’s grace.’ Ep. i. 7. 
 
 Nor doth the Lamb of God, by becoming a 
 means, through death, of the conveyance of grace 
 to us, at all darken the nature or glory of grace, 
 but rather doth set it off the more. For wherein 
 can grace or love more appear than in his laying 
 down his life for us? I speak now of the grace 
 of the Son. And wherein could the nature and 
 glory of grace of the Father more appear than in 
 giving his Son to death for us, that grace might, 
 in a way of justice as well as mercy, be bestowed 
 upon the world? Wherefore, as he saith here, 
 that the river of water of life proceedeth from God, 
 so he adds that the Lamb, because he would have 
 us while we are entangled and overcome with this 
 river of God’s pleasure, not forget what it cost the 
 Lamb of God that this grace might come unto us. 
 
 For the riches of grace and of wisdom are, that 
 grace comes to us not only in a way of mercy and 
 compassion, but in a way of justice and equity; 
 but that could be by no other means but by re¬ 
 deeming blood. Which redeeming blood came not 
 from us, nor yet through our contrivance or advice; 
 wherefore, whatever it is to the Lamb, still all is 
 of grace to us. Yea, the higher, the greater, the 
 richer is grace, by how much the more it cost the 
 Father and the Lamb, that we might enjoy it. 
 When a man shall not only design me a purse of 
 gold, but shall venture his life to bring it to me, 
 this is grace indeed. But, alas! what are a thou¬ 
 sand such short comparisons to the unsearchable 
 love of Christ. 
 
 The Lamb, then, is he from whom, by, or 
 through whom the grace of God doth come to us. 
 It proceeds from the throne of God and of the 
 Lamb. And it proceeds from him now as a do¬ 
 nator: from him, not only as a means of convey¬ 
 ance, but as one that has power to give grace; 
 power, as he is the Son of Man. For as the Son 
 of Man he is the Lamb, and as he is the Lamb it 
 cometk from him. ‘ The Son of man hath power 
 on earth to forgive sins.’ Mat. ix. 6. And that before 
 he had actually paid to God the price of our re¬ 
 demption. But how much more now? Where¬ 
 fore Paul, in his prayer for grace and peace for 
 saints, supplicates both God and the Lamb—‘Grac^ 
 be to you, from God our Father, and from the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. ’ Ep. i. 2. 1 Co. i. 3. 2 Co. i. 2. Ga. i. 3. 
 
 ‘ Proceeding out of the throne.’ Formerly this 
 river ot water is said to come from under the 
 threshold of the house of the Lord. Eze. xlvii. 1 . 
 And it is, said again, they ‘ shall go out from 
 Jerusalem,’ that is, the church or house of God 
 
 still. Zee. xiv. s. In that thev are said to come out 
 
 •/ 
 
 from under the threshold, it may be to intimate 
 that they ran but low formerly, if compared to 
 what they do now. Which might also be signi¬ 
 fied by this, that they ‘issued out,’ that that 
 issues out ordinarily comes forth but slowly. Also 
 the prophet saith, the first time he went through 
 the waters, they were but up to the ancles. Eze. 
 xlvii. 3,4. But what is ancle-deep to that which 
 followeth after? It is said also to come out from 
 Jerusalem, where, I perceive, were no great rivers, 
 to intimate, that as long as the first priesthood, 
 first temple, and type, were in their splendour, 
 only the shadow of heavenly things were in use, 
 and that then grace ran but slowly, nor would run 
 much faster, because Jesus was not yet glorified. 
 For the Spirit and abundance of grace was to be 
 given not before but after his ascension. 
 
 Wherefore, now Jesus is ascended, now he is 
 glorified, now grace proceeds from the throne, not 
 from the threshold of the house. ‘ He shewed me 
 a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal, pro¬ 
 ceeding out of the throne of God, and of the Lamb.’ 
 
 The Throne. That of which the mercy-seat 
 was a type, that which is called the throne of 
 grace. Ex. xxv. 17. He. iv. is. And it is called the 
 throne of grace, even, therefore, because it is that 
 from or out of which proceeds this river of water 
 of life, this overflowing grace of God. Now, it 
 may be asked what is the throne of grace ? and I 
 shall answer it is the humanity of Christ. He is 
 the throne, he is the Jacob in which God sitteth. 
 is. xxii. 22, 23. And lie shall be for a glorious throne 
 to his Father’s house. Re. m. 7. The fulness of the 
 Godhead dwells in him bodily; and God was in 
 Christ reconciling the world unto himself, nor can 
 grace come to men but by Christ, nor can God rest 
 as to our salvation but in him. But because I have 
 spoken of this thing more particularly upon that 
 text, ‘ Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne 
 of grace,’ Ac., I shall, therefore, here say no more. 
 
 Only, methinks, it is a glorious title that the 
 Holy Ghost has given to the humanity of Christ, 
 in that he calls it the throne of God; and methinks 
 he gives it the highest preference in that he saith, 
 out thence proceeds a pure river of water of life: 
 we will a little, therefore, speak something to this 
 word—the throne, the throne of God. 
 
 First. A throne is the seat of majesty and great¬ 
 ness; it is not for things of an inferior quality to 
 ascend or assume a throne. Now, then, since this 
 river of water of life proceeds from the throne, it 
 intimates, that in grace and mercy there is great 
 majesty; for grace, as it proceeds, has a voice from 
 the throne. And, indeed, there is nothim; in 
 heaven or earth that can so awe the heart as the 
 grace of God. Ho. m. 5. It is that which makes a 
 man fear, it is that which makes a man tremble, 
 it is that which makes a man bow and bend, and 
 
THE WATER OF LTFE. 
 
 547 
 
 break to pieces. Je. xxxii. 9. Nothing has that 
 majesty and commanding greatness in and upon 
 the hearts of the sons of men as has the grace of 
 God. So that, I say, when lie saith that this 
 river of grace proceeds out of the throne of God, 
 it is to show us what a majesty, what a command¬ 
 ing greatness, there is in grace. The love of Christ 
 constraineth us. 
 
 When Moses went up to the mount the first 
 time to receive the law, he did exceedingly fear 
 and quake. Why? because of the fire and smoke, 
 thick darkness and thunder, &c. But when he 
 weut up the second time thither, ‘ he made haste 
 and bowed his head toward the earth, and wor¬ 
 shipped.’ But why? because it was before jfro- 
 claimed that ‘ the Lord was merciful and gracious, 
 long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth; 
 keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity, 
 and transgression, and sin,’ &c. Ex. xxxiv. 6-9. 
 
 There is nothing overmastereth the heart like 
 grace, and so obligeth to sincere and unfeigned 
 obedience as that. ‘Examine me, 0 Lord,’ said 
 David, ‘ and prove me; try my reins and my heart. 
 For thy loving kindness is before mine eyes: and I 
 have walked in thy truth.’ Ps. xxvi. 2, 3. Therefore, 
 he saith again, 0 Lord our God, ‘ how excellent is 
 thy loving kindness ’ in all the earth! and that 
 loving kindness is marvellous; for it has that 
 majesty and that excellent glory in it as to com- 
 maud the heart and subdue sin. And, therefore, 
 grace has given to it the title of sovereignty, or of 
 one that reigns. The throne is called ‘ the throne 
 of grace,’ He.iv. 16, that on -which it sits and reigns, 
 as well as that from whence it proceeds: * Grace 
 reigns through righteousness unto eternal life by 
 Jesus Christ our Lord.’ Ro. v. 21 . 
 
 Second. As a throne is a seat of majesty and 
 greatness, and so can awe, so it is the seat of 
 authority and legislative power, and so will awe; 
 this is confirmed from what was said but now, 
 ‘grace reigns.’ Wherefore it is expected that 
 they that hear the word of God’s grace should 
 submit thereto, and that at their peril. ‘ He that 
 believes not shall be damned,’ is a word of power, 
 of law, and of authority, and the contemner shall 
 find it so. Grace proceeds from the throne, from 
 the throne of God and of the Lamb. Wherefore, 
 sinner, here is laid a necessity upon thee, one of 
 the two must be thy lot; either thou must accept 
 of God’ s grace, and be content to be saved freely 
 thereby, notwithstanding all thy undeservings and 
 unworthiness, or else thou must be damned for 
 thy rebellion and for thy rejecting of this grace. 
 Wherefore, consider with thyself and think what 
 is best to be done. Is it better that thou submit 
 to the grace and mercy of God, and that thou 
 acceptest of grace to reign for thee, in thee, and 
 over thee, than that thou shouldst run the hazard 
 
 of eternal damnation because thou wouldst not be 
 saved by grace? Consider of this, I say, for 
 grace is now in authority, it reigns and proceeds 
 from the throne. Now, you know, it is danger¬ 
 ous opposing, rejecting, despising, or disowning of 
 them in authority; better speak against twenty 
 than against one that is in authority. If ‘the 
 wrath of a king is as messengers of death,’ rr. xvi. 
 14, if the wrath of the king ‘ is as the roaring of a 
 lion,’ what is the wrath of God? Pr. xix. 12. And 
 you know, to despise grace, to refuse pardon, to 
 be unwilling to be saved from the guilt and 
 punishment due to treasons, the king’s way, since 
 that also is the best way, how will that provoke? 
 how hot will that make wrath ? But to accept of 
 grace, especially when it is free grace, grace that 
 reigns, grace from the throne, how sweet is it? 
 ‘ His favour is as dew upon the grass. ’ 
 
 This, therefore, calls for thy most grave and 
 sedate thoughts. Thou art in a strait, wilt thou fly 
 before Moses, or with David fall into the hands of 
 the Lord? wilt thou go to hell for sin, or to life by 
 grace ? One of the two, as was said before, must 
 be thy lot: for grace is king, is upon the throne, 
 and will admit of no other way to glory. In and 
 by it thou must stand, if thou hast any hope, or 
 canst at all ‘rejoice in hope of the glory of God.’ 
 
 Ro. v. 2 . 
 
 Third. As the throne is the seat of mnjesty and 
 authority, so it is the highest seat of authority. 
 There is none above the throne, there is no appeal 
 from the throne. There are inferior courts of judi¬ 
 cature, there are under-governors, aud they may 
 sometimes, perhaps, be faulty; wherefore in some 
 cases an appeal from such may be lawful or per¬ 
 mitted; but from the throne none can appeal. Now 
 grace is upon the throne, reigns upon the throne, 
 proceeds from the throne. A man may appeal from 
 the law to the throne, from Moses to Christ, from 
 him that spake on earth to him that speaks from 
 heaven; but from heaven to earth, from Christ to 
 Moses, none can appeal, Moses himself has forbid 
 it. For ‘ Moses truly said unto the fathers, A 
 prophet shall the Lord your God raise up unto you, 
 of your brethren like,unto me; him shall ye hear in 
 all things whatsoever he shall say unto you. And it 
 shall come to pass, that every soul, which will not 
 hear that prophet, shall be destroyed from among 
 the people. ’ Ac. m. 22,23. 
 
 See here, this new prophet judges in the highest 
 court; he is master of grace, the throne by which 
 grace reigns; and even Moses admits that from him- 
 self an appeal may be made to this prophet; yea, 
 he allows that men may flee from himself to this 
 prophet for refuge; but there must be no appeal 
 from him. Thou must hear him or die. How shall 
 we escape, ‘ if w r e turn away from him that speak- 
 eth from heaven ?’ lie. xii. 25 . 
 
648 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 This, therefore, is to be duly weighed and deeply 
 considered by us. It is not a saint, nor a minister, 
 nor a prophet, nor an angel that speaks, for all 
 these are but servants, but inferiors; no, it is a 
 voice from the throne, from authority, from the 
 highest authority ; it is the Lord from heaven. 
 This grace proceeds from the throne, and, there¬ 
 fore, men must stand and fall by what shall come 
 from hence. He that comes not hither to drink 
 shall die for thirst. He that refuses this water 
 now, shall not have so much as will hang upon the 
 tip of his finger, if it would save his soul, here¬ 
 after. ‘ How shall we escape, if we neglect so great 
 salvation.’ He. ii. 3. 
 
 Apostates will, therefore, from hence find grip¬ 
 ing pangs and burning coals, for they have turned 
 themselves away from this throne, and from the 
 grace that proceeds therefrom; nor is it to any pur¬ 
 pose whatever they plead for themselves. They 
 are fallen from grace, and what can help them ? 
 Christ is become of none effect unto such, whoso¬ 
 ever is, that is, seeks to be, justified by the law; they 
 ‘ are fallen from grace.’ Ga. v. 4. 
 
 Fourth. The throne is the seat of glory, ‘ When 
 the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the 
 holy angels with him; then shall he sit upon the 
 throne of his glory.’ Mat. xxv. 31. And if the throne 
 °f judgment is the seat of glory, much more the 
 throne of grace. We will venture then to say that 
 the throne of grace is the throne of God’s glory, 
 as the throne of judgment will be the throne of 
 Christ’s glory, and that grace proceedeth from his 
 throne, that botli it and he might have glory; glory 
 in a way of mercy. 
 
 1. That it might have glory; therefore has he 
 designed that grace shall be effectual in, and to 
 the salvation of some, even ‘ to the praise of the 
 glory of his grace, wherein he hath made us ac¬ 
 cepted in his Beloved.’ Ep. i. 6. He has designed, 
 not the glory of man’s works, but the glory of his 
 own grace; and, therefore, has put man’s works, 
 as to justification before God, under his feet, and 
 counts them as filthy rags; but has set his grace 
 up above, has made it a king, given it authority to 
 reign, has provided for it a throne, and called that 
 throne the throne of grace, from whence it also pro¬ 
 ceeds to its own praise and glory, in and by the 
 effectual salvation of those that receive it, and re¬ 
 ceive it not in vain. 
 
 2. As grace is exalted, and made to proceed out 
 of the throne, to its own praise, to its own glory; 
 so is it also thus exalted and made flow to us like 
 a river, that we should be the praise of the glory 
 of him that hath exalted it. We that receive it, 
 and submit unto the throne whence it proceeds, 
 have thereby ‘ obtained an inheritance, being pre¬ 
 destinated according to the purpose of him who 
 worketh all things after the counsel of his own will, 
 
 that we should be to the praise of his glory.* Ep. 
 i. 11,12. So that this throne is a throne of glory. 
 ‘ A glorious high throne, from the beginning is the 
 place of our sanctuary.’ Je. xvii. 12. Now what fol¬ 
 lows from this, but that they that accept of this 
 grace give glory to God, to his grace, and to the 
 word of his grace; such, I say, ‘glorify God for 
 his mercy.’ Ho. tv. 9. ‘ They glorify God for your 
 
 professed subjection to the gospel of Christ.’ 2 Co. 
 ix. 13 , which is the gospel or good tidings ‘ of the 
 grace of God.’ Ac. xx. 24. They, with Abraham, 
 believe, and give glory to God. lio. iv. 20. And with 
 the Gentiles they glorify the word of the Lord. Ac. 
 
 xiii. 48 . 
 
 $But to slight grace, to do despite to the Spirit of 
 grace, to prefer our own works to the derogating 
 from grace, what is it but to contemn God ? to con¬ 
 temn him when he is on the throne, when he is on 
 the throne of his glory ? I say, it is to spit in his 
 face, even then when he commands thee to bow be¬ 
 fore him, to subject unto him, and to glorify the 
 grace of his glory, that proceeds from the throne 
 of his glory. If men in old time were damned be¬ 
 cause they glorified hinh not as God, shall not they 
 be more than damned, if more than damned can 
 be, who glorify him not for his grace ? And, to be 
 sure, none glorify him for his grace but those that 
 close in therewith, and submit themselves thereto. 
 Talkers of grace are but mockers of God, but flat¬ 
 terers of God. Those that only talk highly of 
 grace, and submit not themselves unto it, are but 
 like to those that praise a look, or flatter him in 
 his own conceits. Grace God has exalted, has set it 
 upon the throne, and so made it a king, and given 
 it authority to reign; and thou goest by, and hear- 
 est thereof, but wilt not submit thvself thereto, 
 neither thy soul nor thy life; why, what is this more 
 than to flatter God with thy lips, and than to lie 
 unto him with thy tongue? what is this but to count 
 him less wise than thyself? while he seeks glory 
 by that by which thou wilt not glorify him; while 
 he displays his grace before thee in the world from 
 the throne, and as thou goest by, with a nod thou 
 callest it a fine thing, but followest that which lead- 
 eth therefrom ? Tremble, tremble, ye sinners, that 
 have despised the richness of his goodness; the day 
 is coming when ye shall behold, and wonder, and 
 perish, if grace prevaileth not with you to be con¬ 
 tent to be saved by it to the praise of its glory, and 
 to the glory of him who hath set it upon the throne. 
 
 Ac. xiii. 38—41. 
 
 Fifth. The throne is the seat of wisdom. Hence, 
 he is called ‘ the Ancient of Days,’ that sits on this 
 throne, the throne of God. Da. vii. 9. Infinite in wis¬ 
 dom, whose garments were white as snow, and the 
 hair of his head like pure wool. By Ancient of 
 Days, and in that it is said the hair of his head is 
 like the pure wool, his wisdom is set forth unto us. 
 
549 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 Wherefore, when we read that out of the throne 
 proceeds a river of grace ; when we read this pro¬ 
 ceeded out of the throne of God, it is as much as 
 to say the wise God, who most perfectly knoweth 
 all ways, counted, in his wisdom, that to save men 
 by grace is the best, most safe, and sure way: 
 
 ‘ Therefore it is of faith, that it might be by grace, 
 to the end the promise might be sure to all the seed.’ 
 Ro. iv. 16. And, again, forgiveness is according to 
 the riches of his grace, wherein he hath abounded 
 toward us in all wisdom and prudence. Ep. i. 7, 8 .— 
 Wherefore, to set grace upon the throne, to let 
 grace proceed out of the throne as a river, is by 
 the wise God, the only wise God, counted the best 
 way, the safest way, the way that doth best suit 
 the condition of a sinful man, and that tends most 
 to the utter disappointment of the devil, and death, 
 and hell. Grace can justify freely, when it will, 
 who it will, from what it will. Grace can continue 
 to pardon, favour, and save from falls, in falls, out 
 of falls. Grace can comfort, relieve, and help those 
 that have hurt themselves. And grace can bring 
 the unworthy to glory. This the law cannot do, 
 this man cannot do, this angels cannot do, this God 
 cannot do, but only by the riches of his grace, 
 through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ. 
 Wherefore, seeing God has set grace on the throne, 
 and ordered that it should proceed from this throne 
 to the world ; yea, seeing he has made it king, 
 and granted to it, to it only, the authority and sove¬ 
 reignty of saving souls, he has magnified not only 
 his love, but his wisdom and his prudence before 
 the sons of men. This, then, is his great device, 
 the master-piece of all his witty inventions; and, 
 therefore, it is said, as was hinted before, in this 
 thing he hath proceeded towards us in all wisdom 
 and prudenee. 2 Sa. xiv. 14. Pr. viii. 11, 12 . 
 
 So then, he that comes to, and drinks of this 
 water, glorifies God for his lvisdom, praises God 
 for his wisdom. Such an one saitli that God is 
 only wise, and, bowing his head, saith again, ‘ to 
 God only wise, be glory both now and for ever. 
 Amen.’ But he that shall contemn this grace, con¬ 
 fronts the highest wisdom, even wisdom upon the 
 throne; he saith to himself, I am wiser than 
 Daniel, than the judgment of God. I could have 
 found out a more safe way to heaven myself; and 
 had I been of God’s council, I would have told him 
 so. All this, so horrible blasphemy, naturally pro¬ 
 ceeds from him that liketh not that grace should 
 be king on the throne, and should proceed out 
 of the throne to the world; but ‘shall he that con¬ 
 tended! with the Almighty instruct him V He that 
 reprovetli God, let him answer it. Job xi. 2. 
 
 The text says, 1 that this very doctrine to the 
 
 1 By ‘ the text,’ in this and other places, is meant the text of 
 -acred Scripture; not the particular passage, or text, on which 
 this treatise is founded. —(Ed.) 
 
 Greeks, to the wise, is foolishness, and the preach¬ 
 ing of it a foolish thing to them ; but it will appear 
 eveu then, when the conclusion of all things is come, 
 and when these wise ones, by their wisdom, have 
 fooled themselves to hell, that this «foolishness of 
 God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God 
 is stronger than men.* ico.i. 21 - 25 . 
 
 Christ Jesus, because ho was low in the world, 
 is trampled upon by some, but he is a glorious 
 throne to his Father’s house : for since his hu¬ 
 mility was the lowest of all, now he is exalted to 
 he the throne of God, yea, is made the fountain 
 whence grace continually flows, like the rivers, and 
 comes down to us like a mighty stream. Where¬ 
 fore, I will conclude this with both comfort and 
 caution : with comfort, and that because of the 
 security that they are under that indeed have sub¬ 
 mitted themselves to grace ; ‘ sin shall not have 
 dominion over you; for ye are not under the law, 
 but under grace. ’ And let it he a caution to those 
 that despise. Take heed, it is dangerous affront¬ 
 ing of the wisdom of God. Now here is the wis¬ 
 dom of God, even wisdom upon the throne. It 
 pleased God, for the glory of his wisdom, to make 
 this the way : to wit, to set up grace to reign. I 
 have often thought, and sometimes said, if God 
 will be pleased with any way, surely he will be 
 pleased with his own. Now this is the way of his 
 own devising, the fruit and effect of his own wis¬ 
 dom ; wherefore, sinner, please him, please him in 
 that wherein he is well pleased. Come to the 
 waters, cast thyself into them, and fear not drown¬ 
 ing ; let God alone to cause them to carry thee 
 into his paradise, that thou mayest see his throne. 
 
 Sixth. The throne is the seat of faithfulness, the 
 place of performing of engagements and promises. 
 
 ‘ Alien I shall receive the congregation,’ saith 
 
 OO " 
 
 Christ, ‘ I will judge uprightly,’ that is faithfully. 
 Ps. lxxv. 2. And now he has received it, and is made 
 head over all things to it. Ep. i. 22,23. And for this 
 cause is he upon the throne, yea, is the throne, 
 from whence proceeds all this grace, that like a 
 river doth flow, and glide from heaven into tho 
 world. This river, then, is nothing else but the 
 fulfilling of promises; the faithful fulfilling of pro¬ 
 mises. ‘ If I go not away, the Comforter will not 
 come unto you ; but if I depart, I will send him 
 unto you. ’ Ju. xvi. 7. ‘ This is that which was spoken 
 
 by the prophet Joel; And it shall come to pass in 
 the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my 
 Spirit upon all flesh,’ &c, Ac. ii. ig- 18. Now this river 
 is the Spirit, the Spirit and grace of God, which 
 was promised by the Father and the Son, and now 
 it comes running from the throne of God and of the 
 Lamb. For ‘ being by the right hand of God ex¬ 
 alted, and having received of the Father the pro¬ 
 mise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this 
 which ye now see and hear.’ Ac. iiss. 
 
550 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 Behold, then, how mindful, how careful, how 
 faithful our Father and the Lamb of God is! It 
 is not exaltation, nor glory, nor a crown, nor a 
 kingdom, nor a throne, that shall make him neglect 
 his poor ones on earth. Yea, therefore, even be¬ 
 cause he is exalted and on the throne, therefore it 
 is that such a river, with its golden streams, pro¬ 
 ceeds from the throne to come unto us. And it 
 shall proceed to be far higher than ever was ‘the 
 swellings of Jordan. True, it runs not so high 
 now as in former days, because of the curse of 
 God upon Antichrist, by whose means the land of 
 God s people is full of briers and thorns, is. xxxii. 
 13-17. But when the tide is at the lowest, then it is 
 nearest the rising ; and this river will rise, and in 
 little time be no more so low as but ancle-deep; it 
 will be up to the knees, to the loins, and be a broad 
 river to swim in. Eze.xlvii. For ‘there the glorious 
 Lord will be unto us a place of broad rivers and 
 streams.’ Is. xxxiii. 21 . ‘And there shall be no more 
 curse’ in the church, ‘ but the throne of God and 
 of the Lamb shall be in it, and his servants shall 
 serve him’ without molestation.' Re. xxii. 3-6. 
 
 ‘These sayings are faithful and true,’ and in 
 faithfulness shall they, from the throne of God and 
 of the Lamb, be performed to the church. Faith¬ 
 fulness in him that rules, is that which makes Sion 
 rejoice ; because thereby the promises yield milk 
 and honey. For now the faithful God, that keep- 
 eth covenant, performs to his church that which he 
 told her he would. Wherefore, our rivers shall run, 
 and our brooks yield honey and butter. Job xx. 17. 
 Let this teach all God’s people to expect, to 
 look, and wait for good things from the throne. 
 But, 0! methinks this throne, out of which good 
 comes like a river! who would not be a subject to 
 it ? who would not but worship before it ? But, 
 Seventh. A throne is ‘the seat of justice.’ 
 ‘Justice and judgment are the habitation of thy 
 throne.’ Ps.kxxix. 14 . And it is also from justice 
 that this river of grace flows to us : justice to 
 Christ, and justice to those that are found in him. 
 Ro.iii. 24 . God declares that he can justly justify, 
 and justly forgive, l Jn. i. 9 . Now, if he can justly 
 justify and justly forgive, then can he give grace, 
 and cause that it should proceed to, yea, flow after 
 us as a river. 1 Co. x. 4. The river that gushed out 
 of the rock in the wilderness ran after the people 
 there, wherefore they wandered therein. They 
 drank of the rock that followed them; the rock 
 was not removed out of his place, but the flood 
 followed them whither they went. ‘ He opened 
 the rock and the waters gushed out ; they ran in 
 the diy places like a river.’ Ps. cv. 41 . This rock, 
 saith he, was Christ, that is, figuratively: and 
 this throne is Christ really: and the water gush¬ 
 ing out of the rock, and following of them in the 
 wilderness, was to show how, when Christ became 
 
 a throne, grace and goodness should follow us in 
 the wilderness from thence so long as here we 
 abide. Wherefore David, considering this, said, 
 ‘ Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all 
 the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house 
 of the Lord for ever. ’ Ps. xxiii. 6 . 
 
 But whence must this come ? The text says 
 from the throne ; from the throne, the seat of 
 justice ; for from thence, by reason of what he 
 hath found in Christ for us, he, in a way of right¬ 
 eousness and justice, lets out to us rivers of his 
 pleasures ; whose original is that great and wide 
 sea of mercy that flows in his infinite heart beyond 
 thought. 
 
 All is paid for both us and grace. Jn. vii. 39 . We 
 are bought with a price. 1 Co. vi. 20. lie has obtained 
 eternal redemption for us. He. ix. 12. Yea, and as 
 we are made his, and heaven made ours thus, so 
 this river of grace has been also obtained by him 
 for us. Jn. vii. 38. Wherefore, all comes to us in a 
 wa y °f justice and righteousness. Hence we are 
 said to obtain ‘ faith through the righteousness of 
 God, 2 Pe. i. i; that is, through the justice of God, 
 and of Jesus our Lord. Mark, here is the justice 
 of God, and the justice of Jesus our Lord; and we 
 have our faith from the justice of God, because of 
 the righteousness of Jesus our Lord; that is, Jesus 
 answered with works of justice the demands of 
 justice; and therefore, in a way of justice, grace 
 leigns, and comes to us like a river, as is signified, 
 for that it is said to come to us out of the throne. 
 
 Again, grace is said ‘ to reign through right¬ 
 eousness unto eternal life.’ Ro. v. 21. Through what 
 righteousness ? the righteousness or justice of God 
 by Jesus Christ our Lord. By Jesus Christ, or for 
 his sake. For for his sake, as I said, we are for¬ 
 given ; and for his sake have all things pertaining 
 to life and godliness. Which all things come to us, 
 through, or down, the stream of this river in a way 
 of justice; and, therefore, it is said to come from 
 the throne. 
 
 Eighth. This throne is the seat of grace and 
 mercy ; and, therefore, it is called the mercy-seat 
 and throne of grace. This throne turns all into 
 grace, all into mercy. This throne makes all 
 things work together for good. It is said of Saul’s 
 sons, they were not buried after they were hanged, 
 until water dropped upon them out of heaven. 
 
 2 Sa. xxi. 10,14. And it may be said of us there is 
 nothing suffered to come near us, until it is washed 
 in that Avater that proceeds from the throne of 
 grace. Hence afflictions flow from grace, Ps.cxix. 67 ; 
 persecutions flow from grace; poverty, sickness, 
 yea, death itself is now made ours by the grace of 
 God through Christ. 1 Co. iii. 22 ; Re. iii. 19; He. xii. 5 — 7. 
 
 0 giace, 0 happy church of God! all things that 
 happen to thee are, for Christ’s sake, turned into 
 giace. They talk of the philosopher’s stone, and 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 551 
 
 how, if one had it, it would turn all things into 
 gold. 0! but can it turn all tilings into grace? 
 can it make all things work together for (rood ? 
 No, no, this quality, virtue, excellency, what shall 
 I call it, nothing has in it, but the grace that 
 reigns on the throne of grace, the river that pro¬ 
 ceeds from the throne of God. This, this turns 
 majesty, authority, the highest authority, glory, 
 wisdom, faithfulness, justice, and all into grace. 
 Here is a throne ! God let us see it. John had 
 the honour to see it, and to see the streams pro¬ 
 ceeding from it. 0 sweet sight! 0 heart-ravish¬ 
 ing sight! ‘ lie showed me a pure river of water 
 
 of life proceeding out of the throne of God.’ 
 
 Indeed, as was hinted before, in the days of the 
 reign of Antichrist there are not those visions of 
 this throne, nor of the river that proeeedeth there¬ 
 from. Now he holdeth back the face of his throne, 
 and spreadeth a cloud upon it; but the preserving, 
 saving benefits thereof we have, as also have all 
 the saints, in the most cloudy and dark day. And 
 since we can see so little, we must believe the 
 more; and by believing, give glory to God. We 
 must also labour for more clear Scripture know¬ 
 ledge of this throne; for the holy Word of God is 
 the perspective glass by which we may, and the 
 magnifying glass that will cause us to behold, 
 
 * with open face, the glory of the Lord.’ 2 Co. iii. is. 
 
 But, methinks, I have yet said nothing of this 
 throne, which is indeed none other but the spot¬ 
 less and glorified humanity of the Son of God. 
 This throne is the Lord Jesus, this grace comes 
 from the Divine Majesty, as dwelling bodily in the 
 Lord Jesus. Wherefore let us fall down before 
 the throne, and cast our crowns at the foot of the 
 throne, and give thanks to him that sits upon the 
 throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever. 0 
 how should Jesus be esteemed of! The throne of 
 the king is a royal seat: it is said of Solomon’s, 
 ‘there was not the like made in any kingdom.’ 
 l Ki. x. 20. But of this it may be said there is not 
 its like in heaven and earth. At the setting up 
 of this throne, the angels flocked round about it, 
 and the beasts and the elders gathered together to 
 see it. Re. iv. When this throne was set in heaven, 
 there was silence, all the heavenly host had no 
 leisure to talk ; they were surprised with sight and 
 wonder. When this throne was set in heaven, 
 what talk there was! it was as the music of the 
 trumpet. 1 
 
 ‘And behold,’ says John, ‘a door was opened 
 
 J The solemn silence, and the sound of the trumpet, took 
 place in quick succession when the medium of prayer and 
 praise, from fallen man, was first exhibited in heaven. When 
 Christ was revealed to John, as the throne upon which God 
 received the prayers of all liis saints, awe, and wonder, and 
 silence, was felt in heaveu for the space of half an hour; then 
 came the sound of the trumpet with dire events to those who 
 had refused to pray in the name of Christ.— (Ed.) 
 
 in heaven; and the first voice which I heard was, 
 as it were, of a trumpet talking with me, which 
 said, Come up hither, and I will show' thee things 
 which must be hereafter. And immediately I was 
 in the fepirit, and behold a throne avas set in 
 heaven, and one sat upon the throne.’ 
 
 This throne was Jesus Christ exalted, set, that 
 is, lifted up, not as upon the cross to the contempt 
 and scorn of his person, but, as I said, to the 
 wonderment of the four beasts, and the elders, and 
 all the angels in heaven. ‘ A throne was set in 
 heaven, and one sat upon the throne ;’ that is, God. 
 And this intimates his desirable rest for ever: for 
 to sit is to rest, and Christ is his rest for ever. 
 Was it not, therefore, well worth the seeing ? 
 Yea, if John had taken the pains to go up thither 
 upon his hands and knees, I say, to see the Lord 
 Jesus as a throne set in heaven, and the glory of 
 God resting and abiding upon him, and giving out 
 by him all things, not only his Word, but all his 
 dispensations and providences, to the end of the 
 world; and this blessed thing among the rest, 
 even ‘a pure river of water of life, clear as crystal,’ 
 [how richly would he have been rewarded for his 
 pains. ] 
 
 [the nature and quality of this water.] 
 
 [FOURTH.] But I leave this, and proceed to 
 the fourth and last thing, namely, to the nature 
 and quality of this water. It is said to be pure 
 and clear; pure and clear as crystal. ‘ And he 
 showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as 
 crystal.’ I know that there is a two-fold quality 
 in a thing, one with respect to its nature, and the 
 other with respect to its operation. The first of 
 these is inherent, and remaineth in the subject 
 being as such, and so for the most part useless. 
 The other is put forth then when it meeteth with 
 fit matter on which it may freely work. As to 
 instance aquae vitae, the very metaphor here made 
 use of, hath a quality inherent in it, but keep it 
 stopped up in a bottle, and then who will may faint 
 notwithstanding; but apply it, apply it fitly', and 
 to such as have need thereof, and then you may r 
 see its quality by the operation. This water, or 
 river of grace, is called, I say, the water of life, 
 and so, consequently, has a most blessed inherent 
 quality; but its operation is seen by its working, 
 the which it doth only then when it is administered 
 and received for those ends for which it is adminis¬ 
 tered. For then it revives where life is, and gives 
 life where it is not. And thus far, in the general, 
 have we spoken to it already. We will, therefore, 
 in this place more particularly, though briefly, 
 speak a few words unto it. 
 
 [The operative quality of this water .] 
 
 First. Then this Avater of life is the very ground- 
 
I 
 
 532 
 
 THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 work of life in us, though not the groundwork of life 
 for us. The groundwork of life for us is the passion 
 and merits of Christ, this is that for the sake of 
 which grace is given unto us, as it is intimated by 
 the text; it proceeds from the throne of God, who 
 is Christ. Christ then having obtained grace for 
 us, must needs he precedent, as to his merit, to 
 that grace he hath so obtained. Besides, it is clear 
 that the Spirit and grace come from God through 
 him ; therefore, as to the communications of grace 
 to us, it is the fruit of his merit and purchase. 
 But, I say, in us grace is the groundwork of life; 
 for though we may be said before to live virtually 
 in the person of Christ before God, yet we are 
 dead in ourselves, and so must be until the Spirit 
 be poured upon us from on high; for the Spirit is 
 life, and its graces are life, and when that is infused 
 by God from the throne, then we live, and not till 
 then. And hence it is called, as before, living 
 water, the water of life springing up in us to ever¬ 
 lasting life. The Spirit, then, and graces of the 
 Spirit, which is the river here spoken of, is that, 
 and that only, which can cause us to live; that 
 being life to the soul, as the soul is life to the body. 
 All men, therefore, as was said before, though 
 elect, though purchased by the blood of Christ, 
 are dead, and must be dead, until the Spirit of life 
 from God and his throne shall enter into them ; 
 until they shall drink it in by vehement thirst, as 
 the parched ground drinks in the rain. 1 
 
 Now when this living water is received, it takes 
 up its seat in the heart, whence it spreads itself 
 to the awakening of all the powers of the soul. 
 For, as in the first creation, the Spirit of God 
 moved upon the face of the waters, in order to 
 putting of that creature into that excellent fashion 
 and harmony which now we behold with our eyes; 
 even so the new creation, to wit, the making of us 
 new to God, is done by the overspreading of the 
 same Spirit also. For the Spirit, as I may so say, 
 sitteth and broodelh upon the powers of the soul, 
 as the lien doth on cold eggs, till they wax warm 
 and receive life. The Spirit, then, warmeth us, 
 and bringeth the dead and benumbed soul—for so 
 it is before conversion—to a godly sense and un¬ 
 derstanding of states, of states both natural and 
 spiritual; and this is the beginning of the work of 
 
 1 Thus the Spirit of God in regeneration produces light out 
 of darkness, makes the barren heart fruitful, and from con- 
 iusiou, discord, and enmity, brings order, harmony, and tran¬ 
 quillity. The renewed man is actuated by new hopes and fears; 
 his judgment is enlightened, his will rectified, and his heart 
 transformed; his eyes being divinely opened he sees iuto eter¬ 
 nity ; he has a hope full of immortality ; spiritual appetites 
 are excited in his sold; his affections are raised to God and 
 heaven ; his soul thirsteth for God, for the living God! Thus 
 the Spirit giveth life to the dead, eyes to the blind, speech to 
 the dumb, feet to the lame, and the hand of faith to lay hold 
 on Christ for complete salvation.—(Mason.) 
 
 the Spirit, by which the soul is made capable of 
 understanding what God and himself is. 
 
 And this drinking in of the Spirit is rather as 
 the ground drinks in rain, than as a rational soul 
 does through sense of the want thereof. 
 
 The Spirit also garnishetli the soul with such 
 things as are proper for it, to the making of it 
 live that life that by the Word of God is called for. 
 
 It implanteth light, repentance, faith, fear, love, 
 desires after God, hope, sincerity, and what else 
 is necessary for the making the man a saint; these 
 things, I say, are the fruits and effects of this 
 Spirit which, as a river of water of life, proceedeth 
 forth of the throne of God and of the Lamb. 
 Hence the Spirit is called the Spirit of faith, the 
 Spirit of love, and the Spirit of a sound mind; for 
 that the Spirit is the root and original of all these 
 things, by his operations in, and upon, the face of 
 the soul. 2 Co. iv. 13. Ga. v. 22. 2 Ti. i. 7. 
 
 But, again, as this living water, this Spirit and 
 the grace thereof, doth thus, so it also maintains 
 these things once planted in the soul, by its con¬ 
 tinual waterings of them in the soul. Hence he 
 saith, ‘ I will water it every moment;’ water it— 
 his vineyard, the soul of the church, the graces of 
 the church; and so the soul and graces of every 
 godly man. is. xsvii. 3. 
 
 And because it so happeneth sometimes, that 
 some of those things wherewith the Holy Ghost 
 has beautified the soul may languish to a being, 
 if not quite dead, yet ‘ ready to die,’ Re. m. 2 , there¬ 
 fore he doth not only refresh and water our souls, 
 but renews the face thereof, by either quickening 
 to life that which remains, or by supplying of us 
 with that which is new, to our godly perseverance 
 and everlasting life. Thus ‘ thou visitest the earth, 
 and waterest it; thou greatly enrichest it with the 
 river of God.’ Ps. ixv. 9. 
 
 For this must be remembered, that as the herb 
 that is planted, or seed sown, needs watering with 
 continual showers of the mountains, so our graces, 
 implanted in us by the Spirit of grace, must also 
 be watered by the rain of heaven. ‘ Thou w^aterest 
 the ridges thereof abundantly: thou settlest the 
 furrows thereof: thou makestit soft with showers: 
 thou blessest the springing thereof.’ Ps. lxv. 10. 
 Hence he says that our graces shall grow. But 
 how ? ‘ 1 will be as the dew unto Israel: he shall 
 
 grow as the lily, and cast forth his roots as Leb¬ 
 anon. His branches shall spread, and his beauty 
 shall be as the olive tree, and his smell as Leb¬ 
 anon. They that dwell under his shadow shall 
 return; they shall revive as the corn, and grow as 
 the vine: the scent thereof shall be as the wine of 
 Lebanon.’ Ho. xiv. 5-7. Or, as he saith in another 
 place, ‘ The Lord shall guide thee continually, and 
 satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy 
 bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden. 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 553 
 
 ami like a spring of water, whose waters fail not.’ 
 
 js. lviii. 11. 
 
 There is, besides this, another blessing that 
 comes to us by this living water, and that is, the 
 blessing of communion. All the warmth that we 
 have in our communion, it is the warmth of the 
 Spirit: when a company of saints are gathered 
 together in the name of Christ, to perform any spir¬ 
 itual exercise, and their souls be edified, warmed, 
 and made glad therein, it is because this water, 
 this river of water of life, has, in some of the streams 
 thereof, run into that assembly. Je. xxxi. 12 , 13 . Then 
 are Christians like those that drink wine in bowls, 
 merry and glad; for that they have drank into the 
 Spirit, and had their souls refreshed with the sweet 
 gales and strong wine thereof. This is the feast 
 that Isaiah speaks of, when he saith, ‘In this moun¬ 
 tain shall the Lord of hosts make unto all people 
 a feast of fat things, a feast of wines on the lees, 
 of fat things full of marrow, of wines on the lees 
 well refined.’ is. xxv. 6. This is called in another 
 place, ‘the communion of the Holy Ghost.’ 2 Co. 
 xiii. 14 . Now he warmeth spirits, uniteth spirits, en- 
 lighteneth spirits; revives, cherisheth, quickeneth, 
 strengthenetli graces; renews assurances, brings 
 old comforts to mind, weakens lusts, emboldeneth 
 and raiseth a spirit of faith, of love, of hope, of 
 prayer, and makes the Word a blessing, conference 
 a blessing, meditation a blessing, and duty very 
 delightful to the soul. Without this water of life, 
 communion is Aveak, flat, cold, dead, fruitless, life¬ 
 less; there is nothing seen, felt, heard, or under¬ 
 stood in a spiritual and heart-quickening way. 
 Now ordinances are burdensome, sins strong, faith 
 weak, hearts hard, and the faces of our souls dry, 
 like the dry and parched grouud. 
 
 This drink also revives us when tempted, when 
 sick, when persecuted, when in the dark, and when 
 we faint for thirst. The life of relrgion is this 
 water of life: where that runs, where that is re¬ 
 ceived, and where things are done in this spirit, 
 there all things are well; the church thrifty, the 
 soul thrifty, graces thrifty, and all is well. And 
 this hint I thought convenient to be given of this 
 precious water of life, that is, with reference to the 
 operative quality of it. 
 
 [The other qualities of this water.] 
 
 Second. I shall come, in the next place, to speak 
 of it, as to the other descriptions which John doth 
 give us of it. He says it is, First , pure; Second, 
 clear; Third, clear to a comparison: ‘And ho 
 showed me a pure river of water of life, clear as 
 crystal. ’ 
 
 [First. The purity of this water.] 
 
 1. You read here that this water of life is pure, 
 that is, alone without mixture, for so sometimes 
 that word pure is to be understood. As where it 
 
 saith, pure, ‘ pure olive oil.’ Ex. xxvii. 20 . ‘Pure 
 frankincense.’ Ex. xxx. 34. ‘ Pure gold.’ Ex.xxv. n, 17. 
 
 ‘ Pure blood of the grape,’ De. xxxii. u ; and the like. 
 So then, when he saith, ‘ he showed me a pure 
 river of w r ater of life,’ it is as if he had said he 
 showed me a river of water that was all living, all 
 life, and had nothing in it but life. There was no 
 death, or deadness, or flatness in it; or, as he 
 saith a little after, ‘ and there shall be no more 
 curse.’ A pure river. There is not so much as a 
 grudge, or a piece of an upbraiding speech found 
 therein. There is in it nothing but heart, nothing 
 but love, nothing but grace, nothing but life. 
 
 ‘ The gifts and calling of God are without repent¬ 
 ance.’ Ro. xi. 29. 
 
 2 . Pure is sometimes set in opposition to show 
 or appearance; as where he says, ‘ the stars are 
 not pure.’ Job xxv. 5 . That is, not so without mix¬ 
 ture of darkness, as they seem to be: so again, 
 
 ‘ If thou wert pure and upright,’ Jobviii. 6: that is, 
 as thou seemest to be, or as thou Avouldst have us 
 believe thou art. 
 
 Now, take pure in this sense here, and then the 
 meaning is, it is grace without deceit, without guile; 
 its show and its substance are the same; it has 
 nothing but substance in it; it is indeed what it 
 seems to be in bulk ; it is a river in show and a 
 river indeed. It comes from God and from his 
 throne in appearance, and really it comes from his 
 very heart. 
 
 The great fear of the tempted is, that there is 
 not so much grace in God, and that he is not so 
 free of it as some scriptures seem to import. But 
 this word pure is levelled against such objections 
 and objectors, for the destroying of their doubts, 
 and the relieving of their souls. There is no fraud, 
 nor guile, nor fable in the business; for though 
 God is pleased to present us with his grace under 
 the notion of a river, it is not to delude our fancies 
 thereby; but to give us some small illustration of 
 the exceeding riches of his grace, which as far, for 
 quantity, outstrips the biggest rivers, as the most 
 mighty mountain doth the least ant’s egg or atom 
 in the world. 
 
 3 . But, again, this word pure is set in opposition 
 
 to that which is hurtful and destructive: ‘ I am 
 pure from the blood of all men,' that is, I have 
 hurt nobody. Ac. xx. 26. ‘ The wisdom that is from 
 
 above is first pure,’ it is not hurtful. Ja. iii. 17. Bo 
 you count them pure with the Avicked balances ? 
 Iioav can that be, since they are hurtful? Mi. vi. 11. 
 
 Now take pure in this sense here, and then it 
 intimates, that the grace of God, and the doctrine 
 of grace, is not a hurtful thing. It is not as Avine 
 of an intoxicating nature. If a man be filled Avith 
 it, it Avill do him no harm. Ep. v. is. The best of 
 the things that are of this Avorld are some way 
 hurtful. Iloney is hurtful. Pr. xxv. 16, 27. Wine is 
 
 70 
 
 VOL. HI. 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE, 
 
 55 A? 
 
 hurtful, rr. xx. i. Silver and gold are hurtful, but 
 grace is not hurtful, i Tim. vi. 10. Never did man 
 yet catch harm by the enjoyment and fulness of 
 the grace ot God. There is no fear of excess or of 
 surfeiting here. Grace makes no man proud, no 
 man wanton, no man haughty, no man careless or 
 negligent as to bis duty that is incumbent upon 
 him, either from God or man: no, grace keeps a 
 man low in his own eyes, humble, self-denying, 
 penitent, watchful, savoury in good things, charit¬ 
 able, and makes him kindly atfectionated to the 
 brethren, pitiful and courteous to all men. 
 
 True, there are men in the world that abuse the 
 grace of God, as some are said to turn it into wan¬ 
 tonness and into lasciviousness. Jude 4 . But this is, 
 not because grace has any such tendency, or for 
 that it worketh any such effect; but because such 
 men are themselves empty of grace, and have only 
 done as death and hell bath done with wisdom, 
 ‘heard the fame thereof with their ears. ’ Job xxviii. 22. 
 It is a dangerous thing for a man to have the no¬ 
 tions of grace, while his heart is void of the spirit 
 and holy principles of grace; for such a man can 
 do no other than abuse the grace of God. Alas, 
 what can be expected of him that has nothing in 
 him to teach him to manage that knowledge of 
 grace which he has, but his flesh, his lusts, and 
 lustful passions ? Can these teach him to manage 
 his knowledge well ? Will they not rather put 
 him upon all tricks, evasions, irreligious conse¬ 
 quences and conclusions, such as will serve to 
 cherish sin? What Judas did with Christ, that a 
 graceless man will do with grace, even make it a 
 stalking horse to his fleshly and vile designs; and 
 rather than fail betray both it, and the profession 
 of it, to the greatest enemies it has in the world. 
 
 And here I may say, though grace is pure, and 
 not hurtful at all, yet one altogether carnal, sinful, 
 and graceless, having to do with the doctrine of it, 
 by the force of his lusts which tamper with it, he 
 will unavoidably bring himself into the highest 
 min thereby. An unwary man may destroy him¬ 
 self by the best of things, not because there is in 
 such things an aptness to destroy, but because of 
 the abuse and misuse of them. Some know the 
 way of life, the water of life, by knowledge that is 
 naked and speculative only; and it had been better 
 for such if they had not known, than to know and 
 turn from what they know; than to know, and 
 make that knowledge subservient to their lusts. 
 
 2 p e . u. 20-22. Some receive the rain of God, and the 
 droppings of his clouds, because they continually 
 sit under the means of his grace. But, alas! they 
 receive it as stones receive showers, or as dung¬ 
 hills receive the rain; they either abide as hard 
 stones still, or else return nothing to heaven for his 
 mercy, but as the dunghills do, a company of stink¬ 
 ing fumes. These are they that drink in the rain 
 
 that comes often upon them, and that instead of 
 bringing forth herbs meet for the dresser, bring 
 forth briers and thorns; and these are they who 
 are nigh unto cursing, whose end is to be burned. 
 
 He. vi. 7 , 8 . 
 
 By this word pure I understand sometimes the 
 chiefest good, the highest good. There are many 
 things that may be called good, but none of them 
 are good as grace is good. All things indeed are 
 pure, that is, all creatures in themselves are good 
 and serviceable to man, but they are not so good 
 as grace. Ro. xiv. 20. Ge. i. 31. ‘ There is a generation 
 that are pure,’ that are good in their own eyes. 
 Pr. xxx. 12. There are good men, good consciences, 
 good works, good days, good angels, &c., but none 
 so good as grace, for it is grace that has made them 
 so. Grace, this water of life, therefore is good, 
 superlatively good, good in the highest degree, for 
 that it makes all things good, and preserveth them 
 good. And whatever it be that this water of life 
 washeth not, it is soil, and given to the curse, as 
 the prophet intimates where he saith, ‘But the 
 miry places thereof, and the marshes thereof, 
 shall not be healed; they shall be given to salt.’ 
 
 Eze. xlvii. ]. 
 
 But who understands this, who believes it? Its 
 goodness is kept close from the fowls of the air. 
 Men, most men, are ignorant of the goodness of it, 
 nor do they care to inquire after the enjoyment of 
 this pure, this good water of life. The reason is, 
 because though it is good in itself, good in the 
 highest degree, and that which makes all things 
 good, yet it is not such a good as is suited to a 
 carnal appetite. There is good; and there is suit¬ 
 able good. Now suitable good is of two sorts : 
 either such as is spiritual, or such as is temporal. 
 That which is spiritual, is desired only of them 
 that are spiritual; for temporal good will satisfy a 
 carnal mind. Now grace is a spiritual good; this 
 river of grace is the goodness of spiritual good. It 
 is the original life ot all the grace in our souls. 
 No marvel, then, if it be so little set by of those 
 that are carnally minded. They will serve a horse, 
 and mire will serve a sow; so things of this life 
 suit best with the men of this world ; for their 
 appetite is gross and carnal, and they savour not 
 the things that be of the Spirit of God. ‘ The 
 natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit 
 of God,’ the things that be of this river of God; 
 
 ‘ for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he 
 know them , because they are spiritually discerned.’ 
 ico.ii. 14. This is the river of oil which the pro¬ 
 phet speaks of, the river of spirit. Were it a 
 river of gold and silver, there would be old fishing 
 on the banks thereof. But it is a river that runs 
 like oil, saith the Lord God.’ Eze.xxxii. 14. This 
 rock pours us out ‘rivers of oil,’ Jobxxix. 6 — ‘fresh 
 oil, Ps. xcii.10 —‘soft oil,’ Ps.iv. 21 — ‘the oil of joy,’ 
 
THE WATER OF LIFE. 
 
 555 
 
 is.ixLS— < tRe oil of gladness,’ Ps. xiv. 7 —oil to anoint 
 the head withal, Ec. ix. 8— oil to make the face to 
 shine, Ps. civ. is— oil by which thou wilt be made 
 able to honour both God and man in some good 
 measure as becomes thee. Ju. ix. 9. 
 
 I might have enlarged upon this head, and have 
 showed you many more particulars wherein this 
 term of pure might serve for the better setting 
 forth of the excellency of this water of life, but I 
 shall proceed no further upon this, but will come to 
 that which remains. 
 
 [ Second . The dearness of this water of life.] 
 
 As this river of water of life is said to be pure, 
 so it is said to be clear. ‘ He shewed me a pure 
 river of water of life, clear.’ This term has also 
 its particular signification, and, therefore, ought to 
 be heeded. 
 
 1. Clear is set in opposition to dark; therefore 
 some are said to be ‘ clear as the sun. ’ Ca. vi. 10 . And 
 again, ‘ the light shall not be clear nor dark.’ Zee. 
 xiv. 6 . In both these places, clear is to be taken for 
 light, daylight, sunlight; for, indeed, it is never 
 day nor sunshine with the soul, until the streams of 
 this river of water of life come gliding to our doors, 
 into our houses, into our hearts. Hence the be¬ 
 ginning of conversion is called illumination. He. x.32. 
 Yea, the coming of this river of water of life unto 
 us is called the day-spring from on high, through the 
 tender mercy of our God. Lu.i.78. It is also called 
 the dawning of the day. 2 Pe. i. 19. And hence, 
 again, these men unto whom this river of water of 
 life comes not, are said to be dark, darkness. ‘ Ye 
 were sometimes darkness, but now are ye light in 
 the Lord.’ Ep.v.8. Wherefore, this water is like 
 Jonathan’s honey; it hath a faculty to open the 
 eyes, to make them that sit in darkness see a great 
 light. lSa. xiv. 27. Mat. iv.16. The light of the know¬ 
 ledge of the glory of God in the faith of Jesus 
 Christ ; ‘ Gocl, who commanded the light to shine 
 out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts to give 
 the light;’ the Spirit that enlighteneth and giveth 
 the light, ‘ of the knowledge of the glory of God 
 in the face of Jesus Christ.’ 2 Co. iv. 6. This river 
 casteth beams where it goes, like the beams of the 
 sun ; it shines, it casts out rays of glory unto those 
 that drink thereof. The streams of this grace were 
 they that overtook Saul when he was going to Da¬ 
 mascus ; they were the waters of this flood that 
 compassed him round about. And if you will be¬ 
 lieve him, he saith this light from heaven was a 
 great light, a light above the brightness of the 
 sun, a light that did by the glory of it make dark 
 to him all the thino-s in the world. Ac. ix. 3; xxii. 6 ; 
 
 O 
 
 xxvL 13. 
 
 2. Clear is set in opposition to that which is not 
 pleasing. For to be clear is to be pleasant. Hence 
 it is said, ‘ truly the light is sweet, and a pleasant 
 thing it is for the eyes to behold the sun.’ Ec. xi 7. 
 
 I read of rivers that looked red as blood, that 
 stank like the blood of a dead man, but this is no 
 such river. Ex. vii. 19, 20. 2 Ki. iii. 22 , 23 . I read of 
 rivers whose streams are like streams of brim¬ 
 stone, fiery streams, streams of burning pitch, but 
 this is none of them. Is. xxx. 27 —33. Da. vii. 9 — 11 . is. 
 xxxiv. 9. ‘ There is a river’ besides all these, clear 
 
 and pleasant, * the streams whereof shall make 
 glad the city of God.’ Ps. xlvi. 4 . 
 
 There are the waters that the doves love to sit 
 by, because by the clearness of these streams they 
 can see their pretty selves, as in a glass. Ca. v. 12 . 
 
 These are the streams where the doves wash 
 tlieir eyes, and by which they solace themselves, 
 and take great content. These streams are in¬ 
 stead, as I said, of a looking-glass ; their clear¬ 
 ness presents us with an opportunity of seeing our 
 own features. As in fair waters a man may see 
 the body of the sun, and of the moon, and of the 
 stars, and the very body of heaven ; so he that 
 stands upon the bank of this river, and that 
 washetli liis eyes with this water, may see the Son 
 of God, the stars of God, the glory of God, and the 
 habitation that God has prepared for his people. 
 And are not these pleasant sights? is not this ex¬ 
 cellent water ? has not this river pleasant streams ? 
 
 3. Clear is set in opposition to dirty water and 
 muddiness. I read of some waters that are fouled 
 with the feet of beasts, and with the feet of men, 
 yea, and deep waters too. Yea, saith God to 
 some, ye ‘have drunk of the deep waters,’ and 
 have fouled ‘ the residue with your feet;’ and 
 again, ‘ As for my flock, they eat that which ye 
 have trodden with your feet, and they drink that 
 which ye have fouled with your feet.’ Eze. xxxiv. is, 19 . 
 These waters are doctrines contained in the text, 
 muddied and dirtied by the false glosses aud slut¬ 
 tish opinions of erroneous judgments, of which the 
 poor sheep have been made to drink. And, verily, 
 this is apparent enough by the very colour and 
 hue of those poor souls; for though the truth of 
 God was in them, yet the very stain of tradition 
 and superstition might be also seen in their scales. 
 For as the fish of the river receive, by being there, 
 the changeable colours of the waters, so profes¬ 
 sors, what doctrine they hear and drink, do look 
 like that. If their doctrines are muddy, their 
 notions are muddy; if their doctrines are bloody, 
 their notions and tempers are bloody: but if their 
 doctrines are clear, so are their notions, for their 
 doctrine has given them a clear understanding of 
 things . 1 
 
 1 This is an excellent commentary upon that part of the 
 Pilgrim's Progress which describes Christiana and her com¬ 
 pany at the foot of the hill Difficulty. Greatheart points out 
 the spring at which Christian was refreshed before he began 
 the arduous ascent which led him, in defiance of a persecuting 
 world, to join in church fellowship, allegorically represented 
 by the house Beautiful—‘ When Christian drank it was clear 
 
556 
 
 THE WATER OE LIFE. 
 
 Now, here we have a river of water of life that 
 is clear—clear without dirt and mud—clear with¬ 
 out the human inventions and muddy conceptions 
 of unsanctified and uninstructed judgments; yea, 
 here you have a river the streams whereof lie 
 open to all in the church, so that they need not 
 those instruments of conveyance that are foul, and 
 that use to make water stink, if they receive it to 
 bring it to them that have need. 
 
 4 . By clear we sometimes understand purga¬ 
 tion ; or that a thing has purged itself, or is purged 
 from those soils and imputations of evil wherewith 
 sometimes they have been charged. ‘ Then thou 
 shalt be clear from this my oathor, ‘ How shall 
 we clear ourselves ? ’ Ge. xxiv. 8-14 ; xliv. 16. Something 
 of this sense may he in the text; for if men are 
 not afraid to charge God with folly, which is inti¬ 
 mated by ‘ that thou mightest be clear when thou 
 judgest, ’ Ps. li. 4, will they, think you, he afraid to 
 impute evil to his Word, and grace, and Spirit? 
 No, verily; they are bold enough at this work. 
 Nay, more than this, even from the foundation of 
 the world, men have cast slanders upon, and im¬ 
 puted base things unto the blessed grace of the 
 gospel. But not to look so far hack. Paul was 
 one of the pipes through which God conveyed this 
 grace to the world ; and what was he counted for 
 his so doing, hut ‘ a pestilent fellow, and a mover 
 of sedition - throughout the world.’ Ac. xxiv. 5 , 6 . 
 But, behold, no imputation can stick on the grace 
 of God—not stick long; for that, like honey, will 
 purge itself of what filth is put upon it, and of all 
 bad imputations of evil men’s springs, and rivers 
 are of a self-purging quality, Now, here we have 
 to do with a river—a river of water of life ; but a 
 river more slandered than ever did Naainan the 
 Syrian slander the waters of Israel in preferring 
 those of Abana and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, 
 beyond them. 2 el v. 10-12. But behold now, at 
 last, when all the world have done what they can, 
 and cast what reproaches and slanders upon it 
 they are able, it is a river pure and clear. It has 
 purged itself before kings—it has purged itself 
 before princes and judges, and all the Naamans in 
 the world ; it is still a river —a river of water of 
 bfe —a river of water of life clear. 
 
 5 . By clear we sometimes understand purity 
 manifest, or innocency and goodness made known. 
 
 ‘ things ye have approved yourselves to be 
 
 clear in this matter.’ 2 Co. vii. 11. That is, you 
 have made it appear, and stand upon your justifi- 
 
 and good, but now it is dirty; and with the feet of some that 
 are not desirous that pilgrims should here quench their thirst.’ 
 After the writing ot the first part, and before that of the 
 second, the Act of Uniformity had spread its baleful influence 
 ovei England. To use Bunyan’s words—‘ The Romish beasts 
 have corrupted the doctrine by treading it down with their 
 feet, and have muddied this water with their own dirt and 
 hithiness.’—(See Holy City.)— Ed. 
 
 cation, and are willing to be searched and sounded 
 to the bottom by those that have a desire to under¬ 
 take that work. So this river of water of life in 
 the fountain, and in the streams thereof, offer 
 themselves to the consideration and conscience of 
 all men. To this end how often doth God, the 
 head of this river, and he out of whose throne it 
 proceeds, call upon men to challenge him, if they 
 can, with any evil or misdoing towards them, either 
 by presence or doctrine; hence he savs, ‘ Put me 
 in remembrance; let us plead together; declare 
 thou,’ if thou canst, ‘that thou mayest be justi¬ 
 fied,’ and I condemned. Is. xim. 26. So again: 
 
 ‘ What iniquity have your fathers found in me, 
 that they are gone far from me, and have walked 
 after vanity, and are become vain ? ’ j e . ii. 5. So 
 Christ: ‘ Which of you convinceth me of sin ? ’ 
 Ju. viii. 46 . And ‘If I have spoken evil, bear witness 
 of the evil.’ Jn. xviii. 23. So Paul: We ‘have re¬ 
 nounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walk¬ 
 ing in craftiness, nor handling the Word of God 
 deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth 
 commending ourselves to every man’s conscience 
 in the sight of God.’ 2 Co. iv. 2. All these sen¬ 
 tences are chiefly to be applied to doctrine, and so 
 are, as it were, an offer to any, if they cau, to 
 find a speck, or a spot, or a wrinkle, or any such 
 thing in this river of water of life. 
 
 Some men fly from it as from a bear; and some 
 are afraid to drink of it, for fear it should be poison 
 unto them. Some, again, dare not take it because 
 it is not mixed, and as they, poor souls, imagine, 
 qualified and made toothsome by a little of that 
 which is called the wisdom of this world. Thus 
 one shucks , 1 another shrinks, and another will 
 none of God. Meanwhile, whoso shall please to 
 look into this river shall find it harmless and clear; 
 yea, offering itself to the consciences of all men to 
 make trial if it be not the only chief good, the 
 only necessary waters, the only profitable, for the 
 health of the soul, of all the things that are in 
 the world, and as clear of mischief as is the sun 
 of spots. 
 
 [Third.—This river is dear to the most ‘perfect 
 comparison.] 
 
 As John saw this river pure and clear, so he 
 saw it clear to a comparison. Clear to the best of 
 comparisons, clear as crystal. Crystal is a very 
 clear stone, as clear as the clearest glass, if not 
 clearer; one may see far into it, yea, through it; 
 it is without those spots, and streaks, and smirches 
 that are in other precious stones. Wherefore, 
 when he saith that this river is clear as crystal, it 
 is as if God should say, Look, sinners, look to the 
 bottom of these my crystal streams. I have heard 
 
 ‘ Shuck,’ to shake; obsolete as a verb, but retained as a 
 noun to designate the pea-shell, after the peas have been shook 
 out.—En. 
 
557 
 
 THE WATER OF LITE. 
 
 of some seas that are so pure and clear, that a 
 man may see to the bottom though they may be 
 forty feet deep. I know this river of water of life 
 is a deep river; hut though it is said to be deep, 
 it is not said we can see no bottom. Indeed, as to 
 the wideness of it, it is said to be such as that it 
 cannot be passed over; but I say, it is nowhere 
 said that we cannot see to the bottom; nay, the 
 comparison implies that a man with good eyes 
 may see to the bottom. It is clear, as clear as 
 crystal. So, then, we will a little look down to 
 the bottom, and see, through these crystal streams, 
 what is at the bottom of all. 
 
 1 . Then the bottom of all is, ‘ that we might 
 be saved.’ Jn. v. 34. ‘These things I say,’ saitli 
 Christ, ‘ that ye might be saved;’ and, again, ‘ I 
 am come that you might have life, and that you 
 might have it more abundantly.’ Ju.x. 10. This is 
 the bottom of this great river of water of life, and 
 of its proceeding from the throne of God and of 
 the Lamb; it is that we might be saved; it is that 
 we might live. What a good bottom is here! 
 what a sound bottom is here! But few deep rivers 
 have a good bottom. Mud is at the bottom of 
 most waters in the world; even the sea itself, 
 when it worketh, casts up mire and dirt, and so 
 do the hearts of sinners; but the bottom of this 
 grace of God, and of the Spirit and W ord thereof, 
 is that we might be saved, consequently a very 
 good bottom. 
 
 2 . As the bottom of all is, ‘ that we may be 
 saved,’ so that we may be saved by grace, and 
 this is a bottom sounder and sounder. Our sal¬ 
 vation might have been laid upon a more difficult 
 bottom than this. It might have been laid on our 
 works. God might have laid it there, and have 
 been just, or he might have left us to have laid it 
 where we would; and then, to be sure, we had 
 laid it there, and so had made but a muddy bottom 
 to have gone upon to life. But now, this river of 
 water of life, it has a better bottom; the water of 
 life is as clear as crystal, look down to the bottom 
 and see, we are ‘justified freely by his grace.’ 
 fto.iii.24. ‘By grace ye are saved,’ there is the 
 bottom. Ep. ii. 5, 8 . 
 
 Now, grace, as I have showed you, is a firm 
 bottom to stand on ; it is of grace that life might 
 be sure. Ro. iv. is. Surely David was not here, or 
 surely this was not the river that he spake of when 
 he said, ‘ I sink in deep mire, where there is no 
 standing : I am come into deep waters, where the 
 floods overflow me. Deliver me out of the mire, and 
 let me not sink.’ Pa.lxix.2,14. I say, to be sure 
 this could not be the river. No, David was now 
 straggled out of the way, was tumbled into some 
 pit, or into some muddy and dirty hole; for as for 
 this river it has a good bottom, a bottom of sal¬ 
 vation by grace, and a man needs not cry out when 
 
 he is here that he sinks, or that he is in danger 
 of being drowned in mud or mire. 
 
 3 . The bottom of all is, as I said, that we mffiht 
 
 be saved, saved by grace, and I will add, ‘ through 
 the redemption that is in Christ.’ This is still 
 better and better. We read that, when Israel 
 came over Jordan, the feet of the priests that did 
 bear the ark stood on firm ground in the bottom, 
 and that they set up great stones for a memorial 
 thereof. Jos. iii. 17; iv. l—3. But had Jordan so good 
 a bottom as has this most blessed river of water of 
 life, or were the stones that Israel took out thence 
 like this ‘tried stone,’ this ‘sure foundation?’ Is. 
 xxviii. 16 . 0 the throne! this river comes out of the 
 
 throne, and we are saved by grace through the 
 redemption that is in him. We read that there is 
 a city that has foundations; grace is one, Christ 
 another, and the truth of all the prophets and 
 apostles, as to their true doctrine, another, &c. He. 
 xi. 10. And again, all these are the very bottom of 
 this goodly river of the water of life. Ep. ii. 19 , so. 
 
 4 . There is another thing to be seen at the bot¬ 
 tom of this holy river, and that is, the glory of 
 God; we are saved, saved by grace, saved by 
 grace through the redemption that is in Christ to 
 the praise and glory of God. And what a good 
 bottom is here. Grace will not fail, Christ has 
 been sufficiently tried, and God will not lose his 
 glory. Therefore they that drink of this river 
 shall doubtless be saved; to wit, they that drink 
 of it of a spiritual appetite to it. And thus much 
 for the explication of the text. 
 
 [the application of the whole.] 
 
 I now come to make some use of the whole. 
 
 You know our discourse has been at this time 
 of the water of life, of its quantity, head-spring, 
 and quality; and I have showed you that its 
 nature is excellent, its quantity abundant, its head- 
 spring glorious, and its quality singularly good. 
 
 First. Let this, then, in the first place, be a 
 provocation to us to be more free in making use of this 
 water. There are many, now-a-days, that are for 
 inventing of waters, to drink for the health of the 
 body; and to allure those that are ill to buy, they 
 will praise their waters beyond their worth. Yea, 
 and if they be helpful to one person in a hundred, 
 they make as if they could cure every one. Well, 
 here you have the great Physician himself, with his 
 water, and he calls it the water of life, water of 
 life for the soul: this water is probatum est. L It 
 has been proved times without number; it never 
 fails but where it is not taken. Ac. xxvi. is. Is. v. 4 , 5 . 
 No disease comes amiss to it; it cures blindness, 
 
 1 Frobatum est —is proved—a scrap of Latin commonly 
 used in advertising medical prescriptions, in Bunyau’s time. 
 —Ed. 
 
553 
 
 THE WATER OE LIFE. 
 
 deadness, deafness, dumbness. It makes * the lips 
 of those that are asleep to speak.’ Ca. vii. 9. This 
 is the right holy water, 1 all other is counterfeit: 
 it will drive away devils and spirits; it will cure 
 enchantments and witchcrafts; it will heal the mad 
 and lunatic. Ga. iii. 1—3. Mar. xvi. 17, is. It will cure 
 the most desperate melancholy; it will dissolve 
 doubts and mistrusts, though they are grown as 
 hard as stone in the heart. Eze. xxxvi. 26. It will 
 make you speak well. Col. iv. 6 . It will make you 
 have a white soul, and that is better than to have 
 a white skin. Eze. xxxvi. 25 ,26. It will make you taste 
 well; it will make you disrelish all hurtful meats, 
 is. xxx. 22 . It will beget in you a good appetite to 
 that which is good; it will remove obstructions in 
 the stomach and liver. It will cause that what 
 you receive of God’s bread shall turn to good 
 nourishment, and make good blood. In a word, it 
 preserveth life. Jn. iv. 14. They that take this water 
 shall live longer than did old Methuselah, and yet 
 he lived a great while. Ge. v. 27 
 
 Wherefore, let me continue mv exhortation to 
 you. Be more free in making use of this water; 
 it is the wholesomest water in the world; you may 
 take it at the third, sixth, ninth, or eleventh hour, 
 but to take it in the morning of your age is best. 
 Mat. xx. 3—6. For then diseases have not got so great 
 a head as Avhen they are of long continuance, con¬ 
 sequently they will be removed with far more ease; 
 besides, those that thus do will receive endless life, 
 and the comfort of it betimes; and that, you know, 
 is a double life to one. Ec. xi. l— 4. 
 
 This water gently purges, and yet more effec¬ 
 tually than any others. True, where bad humours 
 are more tough and churlish, it will show itself 
 stronger of operation, for there is no disease can 
 be too hard for it. It will, as we say, throw the 
 house out of the windows; but it will rid us of the 
 plague of those most deadly infections that other¬ 
 wise will be sure to make us sleep in death, and 
 bring us, with the multitude, down to hell. But 
 it will do no hurt; it only breaks our sleep in 
 security, and brings us to a more quick apprehen¬ 
 sion of the plague of our heart and flesh. It will, 
 as I said before, provoke to appetite, but make us 
 only long after that which is wholesome. If any 
 ask why I thus allegorize, I answer, the text doth 
 lead me to it. 
 
 Second. I advise, therefore, in the next place, 
 that thou get thee a dwelling-place by these waters. 
 
 1 A Protestant can have but little idea of the insane super¬ 
 stition of the Papists in respect to holy water. The following 
 lines, from Barnaby Googe’s Popish King dome> will shed a 
 little light upon it:— 
 
 ‘ Besides, they do beleeue their sinnes to be forgiven quight. 
 
 By taking holy water here, whereof if there do light 
 But one small drop, it driueth out the hellishe deuils all 
 Then which there can no greater griefe vnto the feend befall.’ 
 
 —Ito. 1570, p. 42. In the Editor’s library.—E d. 
 
 ‘ The beloved of the Lord shall dwell in safety by 
 him, and the Lord shall cover him all the day long.* 
 De. xxxiii. 12. If thou ask where that dwelling is, I 
 answer, in the city of God, in and among the 
 tabernacles of the Most Hio-h. This river comes 
 
 O 
 
 from the throne to water the citv of God; and to 
 that end it is said to run ‘in the midst of the street 
 of it.’ Re. xxii. 2 . If ye will inquire, inquire, return, 
 come. ‘ The seed also of his servants shall inherit 
 it, and they that love his name shall dwell therein.’ 
 Ps. ixix. 36. Get thee a dwelling in Jerusalem, in the 
 midst of Jerusalem, and then thou wilt be seated 
 by this river. 
 
 In old times, the ancients had their habitations 
 by the rivers; yea, we read of Aroer that stood 
 upon the brink of the river Arnon. Jos. xiii. 9. Balaam 
 also had his dwelling in his city Pethor, ‘ by the 
 river of the land of the children of his people.’ 
 Nu. xxii. 5 . 0 ! by a river side is the pleasantest 
 
 dwelling in the world; and of all rivers, the river 
 of the water of life is the best. They that dwell 
 there ‘ shall not hunger nor thirst; neither shall 
 the heat nor sun smite them: for he that hath 
 mercy on them shall lead them, even by the springs 
 of water shall he guide them.’ is. xlix. 10 . Trees 
 planted by the rivers, and that spread out their 
 roots by the rivers, they are the flourishing trees, 
 they bring forth their fruit in their season. Ps.i.3. Je. 
 xvii. 8. And the promise is that men that take up 
 their dwellings by this river of water of life, shall 
 be fruitful as such trees. 
 
 If thou art a Christian, thou hast more than an 
 ordinary call and occasion to abide by these waters; 
 thy things will not grow but by these waters. Weeds 
 and the excellencies of most men we may find in 
 the barren wilderness, they grow under every hedge; 
 but thine are garden, and so choice things, and 
 will not thrive without much water, no, without 
 the water of God’s river. Dwell, therefore, here; 
 that thy soul may be as a Avatered garden. Je.xxxi. 
 12 . is. xii. l—3. And Avhen thou seest how those that 
 are loath to die , 2 make provision at Tunbridge, 
 Epsom, the Bath, and other places, and Avhat 
 houses they get that they may have their dwellings 
 by those Avaters, then do thou consider of thy spirit¬ 
 ual disease, and how nothing can cure thee but 
 this blessed Avater of life ; be also much of desires 
 to have a dwelling-place in Jerusalem, that thou 
 mayest always be nigh to these Avaters. Be often 
 also in Avatering thy plants with these Avaters. I 
 mean the blessed graces of God in thy soul; then 
 shalt thou grow, and retain thy greenness, and 
 prove thyself to be a disciple indeed. And herein 
 
 2 The infatuation, nay, madness of human nature, in its 
 fallen state, is shown by living to hasten the inroads of death; 
 and when he appears, terror-stricken they fly from it to any 
 remedy that is within their reach. How vast the number of 
 suicides by intemperance !—Ed. 
 
559 
 
 TIIE WATER OP LIFE. 
 
 is God, and tby Father, glorified, that thou bear 
 much fruit. Jn. xv. 8. 
 
 TniRD. My third word is, bless God for providing 
 for man such waters. These only can make us 
 live; all others come out of the Dead Sea, and do 
 kill; there is no living water but this. I say, 
 show thy acceptation of it with* thanksgiving; if 
 we are not to receive our bread and cheese but 
 with thanksgiving, how should we bless God for 
 this unspeakable gift! 2Co.ix. 15 . This is soul life, 
 life agaiust sin, life from sin, life against the curse, 
 life from the curse, life beyond liell, beyond de¬ 
 sert, beyond thought, beyond desires. Life that 
 is pleasing, life that is profitable, life everlasting. 
 
 0 my brethren, bless God ! who doth good and 
 gives us such rain, filling our hearts with food and 
 gladness. 1 When Moses would take the heart of 
 Israel, and took in hand to raise up their spirits to 
 thankfulness, he used to tell them that the land 
 that they were to go to was a land that God cared 
 for, and that was watered with che dew of heaven. 
 Yea, ‘ a land of brooks of water, of fountains and 
 depths that spring out of valleys and hills; a land 
 that flowed with milk and honey, which is the glory 
 of all lands. De. viii. 7. Ex. iii. 8; xiii. 5. Le. xx. 24. Nu. xiv. 8. 
 But yet in his description he makes no mention of 
 a river of water of life; a river the streams whereof 
 make glad the city of God. 
 
 This river is the running out of God's heart; the 
 letting out of his very bowels, for God is the living 
 God. This is his heart and soul. ‘Yea, I will 
 rejoice over them to do them good, and I will plant 
 them in this land assuredly, with my whole heart, 
 and with my whole soul.’ Je. xxxii. 41 . I say, if ever 
 God’s heart and soul appeared, it showed itself in 
 giving this water of life, and the throne from whence 
 it proceeds. Wherefore [there is] all the reason 
 of the world, that in the reception of it thy heart 
 and soul should run out and flow after him in 
 thanksgivings. See how David words it in Ps.ciii.i- 5 , 
 and do likewise. 
 
 Fourth. By the characters that are given of this 
 water of life, thou art capacitat,ed to judge when a 
 notion, a doctrine, an opinion, comes to thine ears, 
 whether it is right, good, and wholesome, or how. 
 This river is pure, is clear, is pure and clear as 
 crystal. Is the doctrine offered unto thee so ? or 
 is it muddy, and mixed with the doctrines of men ? 
 Look, man, and see if the foot of the worshippers 
 
 1 1 he real Christian, and such only, are in this blessed case; 
 they have the promise of the life that now is, as well as of 
 that which is to come. Their Father, the Almighty, supplies 
 all their wants; giving joy and peace, when heart aud tiesh 
 tremble.—Ex>. 
 
 of Bel be not there, and if the waters be not fouled 
 thereby. W hat water is fouled is not the water 
 of life, or at least not the water of life in its clear¬ 
 ness. Wherefore, if thou findest it not right, go 
 up higher to the spring-head, for always the nearer 
 to the spring, the more pure and clear is the water. 
 Fetch, then, thy doctrine from afar, if thou canst 
 not have it good nearer hand. Job xxxvi. 3 . Thy life 
 lies at stake; the counterfeit of things is dangerous; 
 everybody that is aware, is afraid thereof. Now 
 a counterfeit here is most dangerous, is most de¬ 
 structive. Wherefore take heed how you hear, what 
 you hear; for, as I said before of the fish, by your 
 colour it will be seen what waters you swim in; 
 wherefore look you well to yourselves. 2 
 
 Fifth. Doth this water of life run like a river, 
 like a broad, full, and deep river; then let no man, 
 be his transgressions never so many, fear at. all, but 
 there is enough to save his soul, and to spare. 
 Nothing has been more common to many than to 
 doubt of the grace of God; a thing most unbecom¬ 
 ing a sinner of any thing in the world. To break 
 the law is a fact foul enough; but to question the 
 sufficiency of the grace of God to save therefrom, 
 is worse than sin, if worse can be. Wherefore, de¬ 
 spairing soul, for it is to thee I speak, forbear thy 
 mistrusts, cast off thy slavish fears, hang thy mis¬ 
 givings as to this upon the hedge; and believe thou 
 hast an invitation sufficient thereto, a river is be¬ 
 fore thy face. And as for thy want of goodness 
 and works, let that by no means daunt thee; this 
 is a river of water of life, streams of grace and 
 mercy. There is, as I said, enough therein to help 
 thee, for grace brings all that is wanting to the 
 soul. Thou, therefore, hast nothing to do, I mean 
 as to the curing of thy soul of its doubts, and fears, 
 and despairing thoughts, but to drink and live for 
 ever. 
 
 Sixth. But what is all this to the dead world — to 
 them that love to be dead? They toss their vanities 
 about as the boys toss their shuttlecocks in the air, 
 till their foot slips, and themselves descend into 
 the pit. 
 
 Let this suffice for this time. 
 
 2 la proportion to the number of professed Christians who 
 thus obey the gospel by judging for themselves, so will be the 
 happiness of the church, and the hastening on of the kingdom 
 of Christ. No one is a Christian that receives his doctrine 
 from a prelate, priest, or miuister, without prayerfully com¬ 
 paring it with the written Word. O man, take not the water 
 of life as doled out by a fellow-man; go to the river for your¬ 
 self—survey yourself as reflected in those crystal streams. 
 Christ does not say to the heavy-laden, sin-burdened soul, Go 
 to the church; but, Come unto me, and find rest. Blessed is 
 he who loves the river of water unpolluted by human devices, 
 forms, or ceremonies; who flies to the open bosom of his 
 1 Christ, and finds refuge from every storm.—E d. 
 
THE BARKEN FIG-TREE; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OE THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR: 
 
 SHOWING, THAT THE DAY OF GRACE MAY BE PAST WITn HIM LONG BEFORE IIIS LIFE IS ENDED ; 
 
 THE SIGNS ALSO BY WHICH SUCH MISERABLE MORTALS MAY BE KNOWN. 
 
 By J OHN BUNYAN, 
 
 4 Who being dead, yet sjpeaJeethd —ITcb. xi. 4. 
 
 London: Printed for J. Robinson, at the Golden Lion, in St. Paul’s Churchyard, 1688. 
 
 This Title has a broad Black Border. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 This solemn, searching, awful treatise, was pub¬ 
 lished by Bunyan in 1682 ; but does not appear to 
 have been reprinted until a very few months after 
 his decease, which so unexpectedly took place in 
 1688. Although we have sought with all possible 
 diligence, no copy of the first edition has been dis¬ 
 covered ; we have made use of a fine copy of the 
 second edition, in possession of that thorough Bun- 
 yanite, my kind friend, R. B. Sherring, of Bristol. 
 The third edition, 1692, is in the British Museum. 
 Added to these posthumous publications appeared, 
 for the first time, ‘ An Exhortation to Peace and 
 Unity,’ which will be found at the end of our 
 second volume. In the advertisement to that trea¬ 
 tise are stated, at some length, my reasons for 
 concluding that it was not written by Bunyan, 
 although inserted in all the editions of his collected 
 works. That opinion is now more fully confirmed, 
 by the discovery of Bunyan’s own list of his works, 
 published just before his death, in 1688, and in 
 which that exhortation is not inserted. I was also 
 much pleased to find that the same conclusion was 
 arrived at by that highly intelligent Baptist minis¬ 
 ter, Air. Robert Robinson. His reasons are given 
 at some length, concluding with, ‘ it is evident that 
 Bunyan never wrote this piece.’ 1 Why it was, 
 after Bunyan’s death, published with his ‘ Barren 
 Fig-tree,’ is one of those hidden mysteries of dark¬ 
 ness and of wickedness that I cannot discover. 
 The beautiful parable from which Bunyan selected 
 his text, represents an enclosed ground, in which, 
 among others, a fig-tree had been planted. It 
 was not an enclosure similar to some of the vine¬ 
 yards of France or Germany, exclusively devoted 
 to the growth of the vine, but a garden in which 
 fruits were cultivated, such as grapes, figs, or 
 pomegranates. It was in such a vineyard, thus re- 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 tired from the world, that Nathaniel poured out his 
 heart in prayer, when our Lord in spirit witnessed, 
 unseen, these devotional exercises, and soon after¬ 
 wards rewarded him with open approbation. Jn. i. 43. 
 In these secluded pleasant spots the Easterns spend 
 much of their time, under their own vines or fig- 
 trees, sheltered from the world and from the op¬ 
 pressive heat of the sun—a fit emblem of a church 
 of Christ. In this vineyard stood a fig-tree—by 
 nature remarkable for fruitfulness—but it is bar¬ 
 ren. No inquiry is made as to how it came there, 
 but the order is given, ‘ Cut it down.’ The dresser 
 of the garden intercedes, and means are tried to 
 make it fruitful, but in vain. At last it is cut 
 down as a cumber-ground and burnt. This vine¬ 
 yard or garden represents a gospel church; the 
 fig-tree a member—a barren, fruitless professor. 
 ‘ It matters not how he got there,’ if he bears no 
 fruit he must be cut down and away to the fire. 
 
 To illustrate so awful a subject this treatise was 
 written, and it is intenselv solemn. God, whose 
 omniscience penetrates through every disguise, 
 himself examines every tree in the garden, yea, 
 every bough. Wooden and earthy professor, your 
 detection is sure; appearances that deceive the 
 world and the church cannot deceive God. ‘ He 
 will be with thee in thy bed fruits—thy midnight 
 fruits—thy closet fruits—thy family fruits—thy 
 conversation fruits.’ Professor, solemnly examine 
 yourself; ‘ in proportion to your fruitfulness will 
 be your blessedness.’ ‘ Naked and open are all 
 things to his eye.’ Can it be imagined that those 
 ‘ that paint themselves did ever repent of their 
 pride ? ’ ‘ How seemingly self-denying are some of 
 these creeping things .’ ‘Is there no place will 
 serve to fit those for hell but the church, the vine¬ 
 yard of God?’ ‘ It is not the place where the 
 worker of iniquity can hide himself or his sins 
 from God.’ May such be detected before they go 
 
 1 General Doctrine of Toleration , Svo, 1781. 
 
THE BARREN FIG-TREE, ETC. 
 
 561 
 
 hence to the fire. While there is a disposition to 
 seek grace all are invited to come; but when sal¬ 
 vation by Christ is abandoned, there is no other 
 refuge, although sought with tears. Reader, may 
 the deeply impressive language of Bunyan sink 
 profoundly into our hearts. We need no splendid 
 
 angel nor hideous demon to reveal to us the reali¬ 
 ties of the world to come. ‘ If we hear not Moses 
 and the prophets,’ as set forth by Bunyan in this 
 treatise, ‘ neither should we be persuaded though 
 one rose from the dead * to declare these solemn 
 truths. Lu. xvi. 31. Geo. Offor. 
 
 TO THE 
 
 Courteous Reader, 
 
 I have written to thee now about the Barren Fig- 
 tree, or how it will fare with the fruitless professor 
 that standeth in the vineyard of God. Of what 
 complexion thou art I cannot certainly divine; but 
 the parable tells thee that the cumber-ground must 
 be cut down. A cumber-ground professor is not 
 only a provocation to God, a stumbling-block to the 
 world, and a blemish to religion, but a snare to his 
 own soul also. ‘ Though his excellency mount up 
 to the heavens, and his head reach unto the clouds, 
 yet lie shall perish for ever, like his own dung; they 
 which have seen him shall say, Where is he ? ’ 
 
 Job xx. 6, 7. 
 
 Now ‘ they count it pleasure to riot in the day¬ 
 time.’ But what will they do when the axe is 
 fetched OUt? 2 Pe. ii. 13, 14. 
 
 The tree whose fruit withereth is reckoned a 
 tree without fruit, a tree twice dead, one that must 
 be ‘ plucked up by the roots.’ Jude 12 . 
 
 0 thou cumber-ground, God expects fruit, God 
 will come seeking fruit shortly. 
 
 My exhortation, therefore, is to professors that 
 they look to it, that they take heed. 
 
 The barren fig-tree in the vineyard, and the 
 bramble in the w r ood, are both prepared for the 
 fire. 
 
 Profession is not a covert to hide from the eve 
 
 %/ 
 
 of God; nor will it palliate the revengeful threat- 
 
 HEADER. 
 
 ening of his justice; he will command to cut it 
 down shortly. 
 
 The church, and a profession, are the best of 
 places for the upright, but the worst in the world 
 for the cumber-ground. He must be cast, as pro¬ 
 fane, out of the mount of God; cast, I say, over 
 the wall of the vineyard, there to wither; thence 
 to be gathered and burned. ‘ It had been better 
 for them not to have known the way of righteous¬ 
 ness.’ 2 Pe. ii. 21 . And yet if they had not, they 
 had been damned; but it is better to go to hell 
 without, than in, or from under a profession. 
 These ‘ shall receive greater damnation.’ Lu. xx. 47 . 
 
 If thou be a professor, read and tremble: if thou 
 be profane, do so likewise. For if the righteous 
 scarcely be saved, where shall the ungodly and sin¬ 
 ners appear? Cumber-ground, take heed of the 
 axe! Barren fig-tree, beware of the fire! 
 
 But I will keep thee no longer out of the book. 
 Christ Jesus, the dresser of the vineyard, take care 
 of thee, dig about thee, and dung thee, that thou 
 mayest bear fruit; that when the Lord of the vine¬ 
 yard cometli with his axe to seek for fruit, or pro¬ 
 nounce the sentence of damnation on the barren 
 fig-tree, thou mayest escape that judgment. The 
 cumber-ground must to the wood-pile, and thence 
 to the fire. Farewell. 
 
 Grace be with all them that love our Lord Jesus 
 in sincerity. Amen. 
 
 John Bunyan. 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, 
 
 OB 
 
 THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 A CERTAIN MAX HAD A FIG-TREE PLANTED IN HIS 
 VINEYARD; AND HE CAME AND SOUGHT FRUIT THERE¬ 
 ON, AND FOUND NONE. THEN SAID HE UNTO THE 
 DRESSER OF IIIS VINEYARD, BEHOLD, THESE THREE 
 YEARS I COME SEEKING FRUIT ON THIS FIG-TREE, 
 AND FIND NONE : CUT IT DOWN ; WIIY CUMBEIIETH 
 IT THE GROUND ? AND HE ANSWERING SAID UNTO 
 VOL. III. 
 
 HIM, LORD, LET IT ALONE THIS YEAR ALSO, TILL I 
 SHALL DIG ABOUT IT, AND DUNG IT l AND IF IT 
 BEAR FRUIT, WELL-. AND IF NOT, then AFTER THAT 
 THOU SHALT CUT IT DOWN.’—LUKE XIII. 6-9. 
 
 At the beginning of this chapter we read how some 
 of the Jews came to Jesus Christ, to tell him of 
 the cruelty of Pontius Pilate, in mingling the 
 
 71 
 
562 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 blood of the Galileans with their sacrifices. A 
 heathenish and prodigious act; for therein he 
 showed, not only his malice against the Jewish 
 nation, but also against their worship, and conse¬ 
 quently their God. An action, I say, not only 
 heathenish, but prodigious also ; for the Lord 
 Jesus, paraphrasing upon this fact of his, teach- 
 eth the Jews, that without repentance ‘ they 
 should all likewise perish.’ ‘Likewise,’ that is, 
 by the hand and rage of the Roman empire. 
 Neither should they be more able to avoid the 
 stroke, than were those eighteen upon whom the 
 tower of Siloam fell, and slew them. Lu. xiii. 1 - 5 . 
 The fulfilling of which prophecy, for their hardness 
 of heart, and impenitency, was in the days of 
 Titus, son of Vespasian, about forty years after 
 the death of Christ. Then, I say, were these 
 Jews, and their city, both environed round on 
 every side, wherein both they and it, to amaze¬ 
 ment, were miserably overthrown. God gave 
 them sword and famine, pestilence and blood, for 
 their outrage against the Son of his love. So 
 wrath ‘ came upon them to the uttermost. ’ i Th. 
 ii. 16. 1 
 
 Now, to prevent their old and foolish salvo, 
 which they always had in readiness against such 
 prophecies and denunciations of judgment, the 
 Lord Jesus presents them with this parable, in 
 which he emphatically shows them that their cry 
 of being the temple of the Lord, and of their 
 being: the children of Abraham, &c., and their 
 being the church of God, would not stand them 
 in any stead. As who should say, It may be you 
 think to help yourselves against this my prophecy 
 of your utter and unavoidable overthrow, by the 
 interest which you have in your outward privileges. 
 But all these will fail you ; for what think you ? 
 
 ‘ A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his vine¬ 
 yard, and he came and sought fruit thereon, and 
 found none.’ This is your case ! The Jewish 
 land is God’s vineyard ; I know it; and I know 
 also, that you are the fig-trees. But behold, 
 there wanteth the main thing, fruit; for the sake, 
 and in expectation of which, he set this vineyard 
 with trees. Now, seeing the fruit is not found 
 amongst you, the fruit, I say, for the sake of 
 which he did at first plant this vineyard, what re¬ 
 mains but that in justice he command to cut you 
 
 1 This awful destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans is 
 narrated by Josephus iu his sixth book of the Jewish Wars, 
 in language that makes nature shudder. Multitudes had as¬ 
 sembled to celebrate the passover when the invading army 
 beleagured the city; a frightful famine soon filled it with 
 desolation: this, with fire and sword, miserably destroyed one 
 million, three hundred and thirty-seven thousand, four hundred 
 aud ninety Jews, while the Christians fled before the siege, 
 and escaped to the mountains. Well might the sun vail his 
 face at that atrocious deed, which was so quickly followed hy 
 6uch awful punishment.—E d. 
 
 down as those that cumber the ground, that ho 
 may plant himself another vineyard ? ‘ Then 
 
 said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, 
 these three years I come seeking fruit on this 
 fig-tree, and find none ; cut it down, why cumber- 
 eth it the ground ?’ This therefore must be your 
 end, although you are planted in the garden of 
 God ; for the barrenness and unfruitfulness of 
 your hearts and lives you must be cut off, yea, 
 rooted up, and cast out of the vineyard. 
 
 In parables there are two things to be taken 
 notice of, and to be inquired into of them that 
 read. First, The metaphors made use of. Second , 
 The doctrine or mysteries couched under such 
 metaphors. 
 
 The metaphors in this parable are, 1. A certain 
 man ; 2. A vineyard ; 3. A fig-tree, barren or 
 fruitless ; 4. A dresser ; 5. Three years ; 6. Dig¬ 
 ging and dunging, &c. 
 
 The doctrine , or mystery, couched under these 
 words is to show us what is like to become of a 
 fruitless or formal professor. For, 1. By the man 
 in the parable is meant God the Father. Lu. xv. n. 
 2. By the vineyard, his church, is. v. 7. 3. By the 
 
 fig-tree, a professor. 4. By the dresser, the Lord 
 Jesus. 5. By the fig-tree’s barrenness, the pro¬ 
 fessor’s fruitlessness. 6. By the three years, the 
 patience of God that for a time he extendeth to 
 barren professors. 7. This calling to the dresser 
 of the vineyard to cut it down, is to show the out¬ 
 cries of justice against fruitless professors. 8. The 
 dresser’s interceding is to show how the Lord 
 Jesus steps in, and takes hold of the head of his 
 Father’s axe, to stop, or at least to defer, the pre¬ 
 sent execution of a barren fig-tree. 9. The dresser s 
 desire to try to make the fig-tree fruitful, is to show 
 you how unwilling he is that even a barren fig- 
 tree should yet be barren, and perish. 10. His 
 digging about it, and dunging of it, is to show his 
 willingness to apply gospel helps to this barren 
 professor, if haply he may be fruitful. 11. The 
 supposition that the fig-tree may yet continue 
 fruitless, is to show, that when Christ Jesus hath 
 done all, there are some professors will abide bar¬ 
 ren and fruitless. 12. The determination upon 
 this supposition, at last to cut it down, is a certain 
 prediction of such professor’s unavoidable and eter¬ 
 nal damnation. 
 
 But to take this parable into pieces, and to dis¬ 
 course more particularly, though with all brevity, 
 upon all the parts thereof. 
 
 ‘A certain man had a fig-tree planted in his 
 
 vineyard. ’ 
 
 The man, I told you, is to present us with God 
 the Father; by which similitude he is often set 
 out in the New Testament. 
 
 Observe then, that it is no new thing, if you 
 
TITE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 5*3 
 
 find in God’s church barren fig-trees, fruitless pro¬ 
 fessors ; even as here you see is a tree, a fruitless 
 tree, a fruitless fig-tree in the vineyard. 1 Fruit is 
 not so easily brought forth as a profession is got 
 into; it is easy for a man to clothe himself with a 
 fair show in the flesh, to word it, and say, Be thou 
 warmed and filled with the best. It is no hard 
 thing to do these with other things ; but to be fruit¬ 
 ful, to bring forth fruit to God, this doth not every 
 tree, no not every fig-tree that stands in the vine¬ 
 yard of God. Those words also, ‘Every branch in 
 me that beareth not fruit, he taketli away,’ assert 
 the same thine:. Jn. xv. 2 . There are branches in 
 Christ, in Christ’s body mystical, which is his 
 church, his vineyard, that bear not fruit, wherefore 
 the hand of God is to take them away: I looked 
 for grapes, and it brought forth wild grapes, that 
 is, no fruit at all that was acceptable with God. 
 is. 5 . 4 . Again, ‘ Israel is an empty vine, he bring- 
 eth forth fruit unto himself,’ none to God; he is 
 without fruit to God. Ho. x. 1 . All these, with many 
 more, show us the truth of the observation, and 
 that God’s church may be cumbered with fruitless 
 fig-trees, with barren professors. 
 
 Had a Fig-tree. 
 
 Although there be in God’s church that be barren 
 and fruitless ; yet, as I said, to see to, they are like 
 the rest of the trees, even a fig-tree. It was not an 
 oak, nor a willow, nor a thorn, nor a bramble ; but 
 a fig-tree. ‘ They come unto thee as the people 
 cometh.’ Eze. xxxiii. 31. ‘ They delight to know my 
 
 ways, as a nation that did righteousness, and for¬ 
 sook not the ordinance of their God. They ask of 
 me the ordinances of justice, they take delight in 
 approaching to God,’ and yet but barren, fruitless, 
 and unprofitable professors, is. lviii. 2 - 4 . Judas also 
 was one of the twelve, a disciple, an apostle, a 
 preacher, an officer, yea, and such a one as none 
 of the eleven mistrusted, but preferred before them¬ 
 selves, each one crying out, ‘Is it I? Is it I?’ 
 Mar. xiv. 13. None of them, as we read of, Jn. vi. 70 , 
 mistrusting Judas; yet he in Christ’s eye was the 
 barren fig-tree, a devil, a fruitless professor. The 
 foolish virgins also went forth of the world with the 
 other, had lamps, and light, and were awakened 
 with the other; yea, had boldness to go forth, when 
 the midnight cry was made, with the other; and 
 thought that they could have looked Christ in the 
 face, when he sat upon the throne of judgment, with 
 the other ; and yet but foolish, but barren fig-trees, 
 but fruitless professors. ‘Many,’ saith Christ, ‘will 
 say unto me in that day,’ this and that, and will 
 also talk of many wonderful works; yet, behold, 
 
 1 Reader, do not imagine that this was peculiar to Bunvan’s 
 days; look not upon your neighbours to had an example, but 
 search your own heart—‘ Lord, is it I ?’ and strive and pray 
 that you may bring forth more ft ait. —(Ed.) 
 
 lie finds nothing in them but the fruits of unright¬ 
 eousness. Mat. vii. 22 , 23 . They were altogether barren 
 and fruitless professors. 
 
 Had a Jig-tree planted. 
 
 This word planted doth also reach far; it sup- 
 poseth one taken out of its natural soil, or removed 
 from the place it grew in once ; one that seemed to 
 be called, awakened; and not only so, but by strong 
 hand carried from the world to the church ; from 
 nature to grace; from sin to godliness. ‘ Thou 
 hast brought a vine out of Egypt; thou hast cast 
 out the heathen, and planted it. ’ Ps. lxxx. 8. Of some 
 of the branches of this vine were there unfruitful 
 professors. 
 
 It must be concluded, therefore, that this pro¬ 
 fessor, that remaineth notwithstanding fruitless, is, 
 as to the view and judgment of the church, rightly 
 brought in thither, to wit, by confession of faith, 
 of sin, and a show of repentance and regeneration; 
 thus false brethren creep in unawares! 2 All these 
 things this word planted intimateth ; yea, further, 
 that the church is satisfied with them, consents they 
 should abide in the garden, and counteth them 
 sound as the rest. But before God, in the sight 
 of God, they are graceless professors, barren and 
 fruitless fig-trees. 
 
 Therefore it is one thing to be in the church, or 
 in a profession ; and another to be of the church, 
 and to belong to that kingdom that is prepared for 
 the saint, that is so indeed. Otherwise, ‘ Being 
 planted, shall it prosper? shall it not utterly wither, 
 when the east-wind toucheth it? It shall wither in 
 the furrows where it grew. ’ Eze. xvii. 10. 
 
 Had a Jig-tree planted in his vineyard. 
 
 In his vineyard. Hypocrites, with rotten hearts, 
 are not afraid to come before God in Sion. These 
 words therefore suggest unto us a prodigious kind 
 of boldness and hardened fearlessness. For what 
 presumption higher, and what attempt more des¬ 
 perate, than for a man that wanteth grace, and the 
 true knowledge of God, to crowd himself, in that 
 condition, into the house or church of God; or to 
 make profession of, and desire that the name of 
 God should be called upon him? 
 
 For the man that maketh a profession of the 
 religion of Jesus Christ, that man hath, as it were, 
 put the name of God upon himself, and is called 
 and reckoned now, how fruitless soever before God 
 
 2 The mode of admitting a member to church-fellowship, 
 among the Baptists, was aud now is by introducing the trem¬ 
 bling convert to a private meeting of the whole church, that 
 they may hear why the uniou is sought, how the soul became 
 alarmed, and fled for refuge to Christ, with the grounds of 
 hope; inquiries having been previously made iuto Christian 
 character and godliness. If, with all these precautions, a barren 
 professor gains admittance, the punishment is not upon the 
 garden, but upon the barren tree.—(E d.) 
 
564 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 or men, the man that hath to do with God, the man 
 that God owneth, and will stand for. This man, I 
 say, by his profession, suggesteth this to all that 
 know him to be such a professor. Men merely 
 natural, I mean men that have not got the devilish 
 art of hypocrisy, are afraid to think of doing thus. 
 
 ‘ And of the rest durst no man join himself to 
 them; hut the people magnified them.’ Ac. v. is. 
 And, indeed, it displeaseth God. * Ye have brought, ’ 
 saith he, ‘men uncircumcised into my sanctuary.’ 
 Eze. xliv. 7 . And again, ‘ When ye come to appear 
 before me, who hath required this at your hand, to 
 tread my courts?’ saith God. Is. i. 12 . They have 
 therefore learned this boldness of none in the visible 
 world, they only took it of the devil, for he, and he 
 only, with these his disciples, attempt to present 
 themselves in the church before God. ‘The tares 
 are the children of the wicked one .’ The tares, 
 that is, the hypocrites, that are Satan’s brood, the 
 generation of vipers, that cannot escape the damna¬ 
 tion of hell. 
 
 Had a; fig-tree planted in his vineyard. 
 
 He doth not say, He planted a fig-tree, but there 
 was a fig-tree there; he had, or found a fig-tree 
 planted in his vineyard. 
 
 The great God will not acknowledge the barren 
 fig-tree, or barren professor, to be his workmanship, 
 or a tree of his bringing in; only the text saith, he 
 had one there. This is much like that in Mat. xv. 13 
 —‘Every plant which my heavenly Father hath 
 not planted, shall be rooted up.’ Here again are 
 plants in his vineyard which God will not acknow¬ 
 ledge to be of his planting; and he seems to suggest 
 that in his vineyard are many such. Every plant, 
 or all those plants or professors, that are got into 
 the assembly of the saints, or into the profession of 
 their religion, without God and his grace, ‘ shall 
 be rooted up.’ 
 
 ‘ And when the King came in to see the guests, 
 he saw there a man which had not on the wedding- 
 garment. And he saith unto him, Friend, how 
 earnest thou in hither, not having a wedding-gar¬ 
 ment ? ’ Mat. xxii. ii, 12 . Here is one so cunning and 
 crafty that he beguiled all the guests ; he got and 
 kept in the church even until the King himself came 
 in to see the guests; but his subtiltv got him 
 nothing; it did not blind the eyes of the King; it 
 did not pervert the judgment of the righteous. 
 
 ‘ Friend, how earnest thou in hither? ’ did overtake 
 him at last; even a public rejection; the King dis¬ 
 covered him in the face of all present. ‘ How 
 earnest thou in hither?’ My Father did not bring 
 thee hither; I did not bring thee hither; my Spirit 
 did not bring thee hither; thou art not of the 
 heavenly Father’s planting. ‘ How earnest thou in 
 hither?’ He that ‘ entereth not by the door, but 
 climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief 
 
 and a robber.’ Jn. x. l. This text also is full and 
 plain to our purpose; for this man came not in by 
 the door, yet got into the church; he got in by 
 climbing; he broke in at the windows; he got 
 something of the light and glory of the gospel of 
 our Lord Jesus Christ in his head; and so, hardy 
 wretch that he was, he presumed to crowd himself 
 among the children. But how is this resented? 
 What saith the King of him? Why, this is his 
 sign, ‘the same is a thief and a robber.’ See ye 
 here also, if all they be owned as the planting of 
 God that get into his church or profession of his 
 name. 
 
 ‘ Had a fig-tree.’ Had one without a wedding- 
 garment, had a thief in his garden, at his wedding, 
 in his house. These climbed up some other way. 
 There are many ways to get into the church of 
 God, and profession of his name, besides, and with¬ 
 out an entering by the door. 
 
 1. There is the way of lying and dissembling, 
 and at this gap the Gibeonites got in. Jos. ix. <fcc. 
 
 2. There is sometimes falseness among some 
 pastors, either for the sake of carnal relations, or 
 the like; at this hole Tobiah, the enemy of God, 
 
 got in. Ne. xiii. 4-9. 
 
 3. There is sometimes negligence, and too much 
 uncircumspeetness in the whole church ; thus the 
 uncircumcised got in. Eze. xliv. 7 , 8. 
 
 4. Sometimes, again, let the church be never 
 so circumspect, yet these have so much help 
 from the devil that they beguile them all, and 
 so get in. These are of that sort of thieves that 
 Paul complains of, ‘ False brethren, that are brought 
 in unawares.’ Ga. ii. 4 . Jude also cries out of these, 
 
 ‘ Certain men crept in unawares.’ Jude 4 . Crept in! 
 What, were they so lowly ? A voluntary humility, 
 a neglecting of the body, not in any humour. 1 
 Col. ii. 23. 0! how seemingly self-denying are some 
 
 of these ‘ creeping things , ’ that yet are to be held, 
 (as we shall know them) an abomination to Israel. 
 
 Le. xi. 43 , 44 . 
 
 But in a great house there are not only vessels 
 of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; 
 and some to honour, and some to dishonour. 2 Ti. 
 ii. 20. By these words the apostle seems to take it 
 for granted, that as there hath been, so there still 
 will be these kind of fig-trees, these barren pro¬ 
 fessors in the house, when all men have done what 
 they can; even as in a great house there are always 
 vessels to dishonour, as well as those to honour 
 and glory; vessels of wood and of earth, as well 
 as of silver and gold. So, then, there must be 
 wooden professors in the garden of God, there must 
 be earthy, earthen professors in his vineyard; but 
 that methinks is the biting word, * and some to 
 
 1 ‘Humour,’ the temper or disposition of mind. Not out 
 of love to humility, hut these creeping things pretend to be 
 humble, to gain some sinister end.—(E d.) 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 565 
 
 dishonour.’ Ro. ix. 21 , 22 . That to the Romans is 
 dreadful, but this seems to go beyond it; that 
 speaks but of the reprobate in general, but this of 
 such and such in particular; that speaks of their 
 hardening but in the common way, but this that 
 they must be suffered to creep into the church, 
 there to fit themselves for their place, their own 
 place, the place prepared for them of this sort 
 onlv. Ac. l 25 . As the Lord Jesus said once of the 
 
 V 
 
 Pharisees, These ‘shall receive greater damnation.’ 
 
 La. xx. 47. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, fruitless professor, hast thou 
 heard all these things ? Hast thou considered that 
 this fig-tree is not acknowledged of God to be his, 
 but is denied to be of his planting, and of his 
 bringing unto his wedding? Dost not thou see 
 that thou art called a thief and a robber, that hast 
 either climbed up to, or crept in at another place 
 than the door? Dost thou not hear that there 
 will be in God’s house wooden and earthly profes¬ 
 sors, and that no place will serve to fit those for 
 hell but the house, the church, the vineyard of 
 God ? Barren fig-tree, fruitless Christian, do not 
 thine ears tingle? 
 
 And he came and sought fruit thereon. 
 
 When a man hath got a profession, and is 
 crowded into the church and house of God, the 
 question is not now, Hath he life, hath he right 
 principles? but, Hath he fruit? He came seeking 
 fruit thereon. It mattereth not who brought thee 
 in hither, whether God or the devil, or thine own 
 vain-glorious heart; but hast thou fruit? Dost 
 thou bring forth fruit unto God ? And, ‘ Let every 
 one that nameth the name of’ the Lord Jesus 
 ‘ Christ depart from iniquity.’ 2 Ti. ii. 19 . He doth 
 not say, And let every one that hath grace, or let 
 those that have the Spirit of God; but, ‘ Let every 
 one that nameth the name of’ the Lord Jesus 
 ‘ Christ depart from iniquity.’ 
 
 What do men meddle with religion for? Why 
 do they call themselves by the name of the Lord 
 Jesus, if they have not the grace of God, if they 
 have not the Spirit of Christ? God, therefore, 
 expecteth fruit. What do they do in the vineyard? 
 Let them work, or get them out; the vineyard 
 must have labourers in it. ‘ Son, go work to-day 
 in my vineyard.’ Mat. xxi. 28 . Wherefore, waut of 
 grace and want of Spirit will not keep God from 
 seeking fruit. ‘ And he came and sought fruit 
 thereon.’ Lu. xiii. 6; viii.8. He requireth that which 
 he seemeth to have. Every man in the vineyard 
 and house of God promiseth himself, professeth to 
 others, and would have all men take it for granted, 
 that a heavenly principle is in him, why then should 
 not God seek fruit? 
 
 As for them, therefore, that will retain the name 
 of Christians, fearing God, and yet make no con¬ 
 
 science of bringing forth fruit to him, he saith to 
 such, Away! ‘ As for you, - Go ye, serve ye every 
 one his idols, and hereafter also, if ye will not 
 hearken unto me,’ &c. Eze. xx. 39 . Barren fig-tree, 
 dost thou hear? God expecteth fruit, God calls 
 for fruit, yea, God will shortly come seeking fruit 
 on this barren fig-tree. Barren fig-tree, either 
 bear fruit, or go out of the vineyard ; and yet then 
 thy case will be unspeakably damnable. Yea, let 
 me add, if thou shalt neither bear fruit nor depart, 
 God will take his Dame out of thy mouth. Je xliv. 26 . 
 He will have fruit. And I sav further, if thou 
 wilt do neither, yet God in justice and righteous¬ 
 ness will still come for fruit. And it will be in 
 vain for thee to count this austerity. He will reap 
 where he hath not sowed, and gather where he 
 hath not strewed. Mat. xxv. 24 — 26 . Barren fig-tree, 
 
 O 7 
 
 dost thou hear? 
 
 Quest. What if a man have no grace? 
 
 Answ. Yes, seeing he hath a profession. 
 
 And he came and sought fruit thereon'. 
 
 A church, then, and a profession, are not places 
 where the workers of iniquity may hide themselves 
 and sins from God. Some of old thought that be¬ 
 cause they could cry, ‘ The temple of the Lord, the 
 temple of the Lord!’ that therefore they were de¬ 
 livered, or had a dispensation to do the abomina¬ 
 tions which they committed, as some in our days; 
 for who, say they, have a right to the creatures, 
 if not Christians, if not professors, if not church 
 members ? And, from this conclusion, let go the 
 reins of their inordinate affections after pride, am¬ 
 bition, gluttony; pampering themselves without 
 fear, Jude 12 , daubing themselves with the lust-pro¬ 
 voking fashions of the times; to walk with stretched 
 out necks, naked breasts, frizzled fore-tops, wanton 
 gestures, in gorgeous apparel, mixed with gold and 
 pearl, and costly array. 1 I will not here make 
 inspection into their lives, their carriages at home, 
 in their corners and secret holes; but certainly, 
 persons thus spirited, thus principled, and thus in¬ 
 clined, have but empty boughs, boughs that want 
 the fruit that God expects, and that God will come 
 down to seek. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, thou art not licensed by thy 
 profession, nor by the Lord of the vineyard, to 
 bear these clusters of Gomorrah; neither shall the 
 vineyard, nor thy being crowded among the trees 
 there, shelter thee from the sight of the eye of 
 
 1 However strange it may appear, it is true that the 
 Ranters, in Runyan’s time, used these arguments, and those 
 so graphically put into the mouth of Bye-ends, in the Pilgrim , 
 to justify their nonconformity to Christ. The tom-fooleries 
 and extravagancies of dress introduced by Charles II., are 
 here justly and contemptuously described. The ladies’ head¬ 
 dresses, called ‘ frizzled fore- tops,’ became so extravagant, that 
 a barber used high steps to enable him to dress a lady’s head 1 
 —(Ed.) 
 
566 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 God. Many make religion their cloak, and Christ 
 their stalking-horse, and by that means cover 
 themselves and hide their own wickedness from 
 men; but God seeth their hearts, bath his print 
 upon tbe heels of their feet, and ponderefh all their 
 goings; and at last, when their iniquity is found 
 to be liateful, he will either smite them with hard¬ 
 ness of heart, and so leave them, or awaken them 
 to bring forth fruit. Fruit he looks for, seeks, 
 and expects, barren fig-tree! 
 
 But what! come into the presence of God to 
 sin! What! come into the presence of God to 
 hide thy sin! Alas, man! the church is God’s 
 garden, and Christ Jesus is the great Apostle and 
 High-priest of our profession. What! come into 
 the house that is called by my name! into the place 
 where mine honour dwelleth! Ps. xxvi. 8 . Where 
 mine eyes and heart are continually! 1 Ki. ix. 3. 
 What! come there to sin, to hide thy sin, to cloak 
 thy sin! His plants are an orchard with pleasant 
 fruits. Ca. iv. 13. And every time he goetli into his 
 garden, it is to see the fruits of the valley, and to 
 ‘ see if the vine flourished, and the pomegranates 
 budded.’ 
 
 Yea, saith he, he came seeking fruit on this fig- 
 tree. The church is the place of God’s delight, 
 where he ever desires to be: there he is night and 
 day. He is there to seek for fruit, to seek for 
 fruit of all and every tree in tbe garden. Where¬ 
 fore, assure thyself, 0 fruitless one, that thy ways 
 must needs be open before the eyes of the Lord. 
 One black sheep is soon espied, although in com¬ 
 pany with many; that is taken with the first cast 
 of the eye ; its different colour still betrays it. I 
 say, therefore, a church and a profession are not 
 places where the workers of iniquity may hide 
 themselves from God that seeks for fruit. ‘ My 
 vineyard,’ saith God, ‘ which is mine, is before 
 me.’ Ca. viii. 12. 
 
 And he came and sought fruit thereon, and found 
 
 NONE. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, hearken; the continual non¬ 
 bearing of fruit is a dreadful sign that thou art to 
 come to a dreadful end, as the winding up of this 
 parable concludeth. 
 
 ‘And found none.’ None at all, or none to 
 God’s liking; for when he saith, ‘ He came seeking- 
 fruit thereon.’ he means ‘fruit meet for God,’ plea¬ 
 sant fruit, fruit good and sweet. He. vi. Alas! it is 
 not any fruit will serve; bad fruit is counted none. 
 ‘ Every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit is 
 hewn down, and cast into the fire.’ Mat. iii. 10 . 
 
 First. There is a fruit among professors that 
 withers, and so never comes to be ripe; a fruit that 
 is smitten in the growth, and comes not to matur¬ 
 ity ; and tins is reckoned no fruit. This fruit those 
 professors bear that have many fair beginnings, or 
 
 blossoms; that make many fair offers of repent¬ 
 ance and amendment; that begin to pray, to re¬ 
 solve, and to break off their sins by righteousness, 
 but stop at those beginnings, and bring no fruit 
 forth to perfection. This man’s fruit is withered, 
 wrinkled, smitten fruit, and is in effect no fruit at 
 all. 
 
 Second. There is a hasty fruit, such as is the 
 ‘corn upon the house-top,’ Ps cxxix.6; or that which 
 springs up on the dung-hill, that runs up suddenly, 
 violently, with great stalks and big show, and yet 
 at last proves empty of kernel. This fruit is to be 
 found in those professors that on a sudden are so 
 awakened, so convinced, and so affected with their 
 condition that they shake the whole family, the 
 endship, 1 the whole town, For a while they cry 
 hastily, vehemently, dolefully, mournfully, and yet 
 all is but a pang, an agony, a fit, they bring not 
 forth fruit with patience. These are called those 
 hasty fruits that ‘ shall be a fading flower.’ 
 
 Is. xxviii. 4. 
 
 Third. There is a fruit that is vile and ill-tasted, 
 how long soever it be in growing; the root is 
 dried, and cannot convey a sufficiency of sap to the 
 branches, to ripen the fruit. Je. xxiv. These are the 
 fruits of such professors whose hearts are estranged 
 from communion with the Holy Ghost, whose fruit 
 groweth from themselves, from their parts, gifts, 
 strength of wit, natural or moral principles. 
 These, notwithstanding they bring forth fruit, are 
 called empty vines, such as bring not forth fruit 
 to God. ‘ Their root is dried up, they shall bear 
 no fruit; yea, though they bring forth, yet will 
 I slay even the beloved fruit of their womb.’ 
 
 Ho. ix. 16. 
 
 Fourth. There is a fruit that is wild. * I looked 
 for grapes and it brought forth wild grapes.’ Is. v.4. 
 I observe, that as there are trees and herbs that 
 are wholly right and noble, fit indeed for the vine¬ 
 yard ; so there are also their semblance, but wild; 
 not right, but ignoble. There is the grape, and the 
 wild grape; the vine, and the wild vine; the rose, 
 and canker rose; flowers and wild flowers; the 
 apple, and the wild apple, which we call the crab. 
 Now, fruit from these wild things, however they 
 may please the children to play with, yet the pru¬ 
 dent and grave count them of little or no value. 
 There are also in the world a generation of pro¬ 
 fessors that, notwithstanding their profession, are 
 wild by nature; yea, such as were never cut out, 
 or off, from the wild olive-tree, nor never yet 
 planted into the good olive-tree. Now, these can 
 bring nothing forth but wild olive berries, they 
 cannot brine: forth fruit unto God. Such are all 
 those that have lightly taken up a profession, and 
 
 1 A word not to be found in our dictionaries, being local 
 and almost obsolete. It means a division, end, or border of a 
 town or village. —(Ed.) 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 567 
 
 crept into the vineyard without a new birth, and 
 the blessing of regeneration. 
 
 Fifth. There is also untimely fruit: ‘ Even as a 
 fig-tree casteth her untimely figs.’ Re. vi. xiii. Fruit 
 out of season, and so no fruit to God’s liking. 
 There are two sorts of professors subject to bring 
 forth untimely fruit: 1. They that bring forth 
 fruit too soon; 2. They that bring forth fruit too 
 late. 
 
 1. They that bring forth too soon. They are 
 such as at present receive the Word with joy; and 
 anon, before they have root downwards, they thrust 
 forth upwards ; but having not root, when the sun 
 ariseth, they are smitten, and miserably die with¬ 
 out fruit. These professors are those light and 
 inconsiderate ones that think nothing but peace 
 will attend the gospel; and so anon rejoice at the 
 tidings, without foreseeing the evil. Wherefore, 
 when the evil comes, being unarmed, and so not 
 able to stand any longer, they die, and are withered, 
 and bring forth no fruit. 4 He that received the 
 seed into stony places, the same is he that heareth 
 the Word, and anon with joy receiveth it; yet 
 hath he not root in himself, but dureth for a while; 
 for when tribulation or persecution ariseth because 
 of the Word, by and by he is offended.’ Mat. xiii. 
 20, 2 i. There is, in is. xxviii. 4, mention made of some 
 ‘ whose glorious beauty shall be a fading flower,’ 
 because it is 4 fruit before the summer.’ Both 
 these are untimely fruit. 
 
 2. They also bring forth untimely fruit that stay 
 till the season is over. God will have his fruit in 
 his season; I say, he will receive them of such 
 men as shall render them to him in their seasons. 
 Mat. xxi. 4i. The missing of the season is danger¬ 
 ous ; staying till the door is shut is dangerous. 
 Mat. xxv. 10 , n. Many there be that come not till the 
 flood of God' s anger is raised, and too deep for them 
 to wade through; * Surely in the floods of great 
 waters they shall not come nigh unto him.’ Ps. 
 xxxii. 6. Esau afterwards is fearful: ‘ For ve know 
 how that afterward, when he would have inherited 
 the blessing, he was rejected; for he found no 
 place of repentance, though he sought it carefully 
 with tears.’ He.xii. 17. 
 
 So the children of Israel, they brought to God 
 the fruits of obedience too late ; their ‘ Lo, we be 
 here ’ came too late ; Nu. xiv. 40 - 42 . their ‘ We will 
 go up ’ came too late. Ku. xiv. 40 - 44 . The Lord had 
 sworn before, 4 that they should not possess the 
 land.’ Mat. xxv. 10 ; xxvii. 5 . All these are such as 
 bring forth untimely fruit. He. xii. 17 . Lu. xiii. 25 - 27 . 
 It is the hard hap of the reprobate to do all things 
 too late; to be sensible of his want of grace too 
 late; to be sorry for sin too late; to seek repent¬ 
 ance too late; to ask for mercy, and to desire to 
 go to glory too late. 
 
 Thus you see, 1. That fruit smitten in the 
 
 growth, that withereth, and that comes not to 
 maturity, is no fruit. 2. That hasty fruit, such 
 as 4 the grass upon the house-top,’ withereth also 
 before it groweth up, and is no fruit, rs. cxxix. c. 
 
 3. That the fruit that is vile, and ill-tasted, is no 
 fruit. That wild fruit, wild grapes, are no fruit. 
 Re. vi. That untimely fruit, such as comes too soon, 
 or that comes too late, such as come not in their 
 season, are no fruit. 
 
 And he came and sought fruit thereon, and found 
 
 none. 
 
 Nothing will do but fruit; he looked for grapes. 
 4 When the time of the fruit drew near, he sent 
 his servants to the husbandmen, that they might 
 receive the fruits of it.’ Mat. xxi. 34. 
 
 Quest. But what fruit doth God expect? 
 
 Anew. Good fruit. 4 Every tree that bringeth 
 not forth good fruit, is hewn down.’ Mat. vii. 19. 
 Now, before the fruit can be good, the tree must 
 be good; for good fruit makes not a good tree, 
 but a 4 good tree bringeth forth good fruit. Do 
 men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles ? ’ 
 A man must be good, else he can bring forth no 
 good fruit; he must have righteousness imputed, 
 that he may stand good in God’s sight from the 
 curse of his law; he must have a principle of 
 righteousness in his soul, else how should he bring 
 forth good fruits ? and hence it is, that a Christ¬ 
 ian’s fruits are called 4 the fruits of the Spirit, 
 the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus 
 Christ.’ Ga. v. 22, 23 . pm. i. ii. The fruits of the Spirit, 
 therefore the Spirit must be there; the fruits of 
 righteousness, therefore righteousness must first 
 be there. But to particularize in a few things 
 briefly:— 
 
 First. God expecteth fruit that will answer, and 
 be worthy of the repentance which thou feignest 
 thyself to have. Every one in a profession, and 
 that hath crowded into the vineyard, pretendeth to 
 repentance ; now of every such soul, God expecteth 
 that the fruits of repentance be found to attend 
 them. 4 Bring forth, therefore, fruits meet for 
 repentance,’ or answerable to thy profession of the 
 doctrine of repentance. Mat. iii. 8. Barren fig-tree, 
 seeing thou art a professor, and art got into the 
 vineyard, thou standest before the Lord of the 
 
 4/ ' 
 
 vineyard as one of the trees of the garden ; where¬ 
 fore he looketh for fruit from thee, as from the 
 rest of the trees in the vineyard ; fruits, I say, and 
 such as may declare thee in heart and life one that 
 hath made sound profession of repentance. By 
 thy profession thou hast said, I am sensible of the 
 evil of sin. Now then, live such a life as declares 
 that thou art sensible of the evil of sin. By thy 
 profession thou hast said, 1 am sorry for my sin. 
 Why, then, live such a life as may declare this 
 sorrow. By thy profession thou hast said, I am 
 
568 
 
 THE BARREN EIG-TREE, OR 
 
 ashamed of my sin; yea, but live such a life, that 
 men by that may see thy shame for sin. Ps. xxxvm. 18. 
 j e . xxxi. 19 . By thy profession thou sayest, I have 
 turned from, left off, and am become an enemy to 
 every appearance of evil. iTh.v. 22 . Ah! but doth 
 thy life and conversation declare thee to be such 
 an one? Take heed, barren fig-tree, lest thy life 
 should give thy profession the lie. I say agaip, 
 take heed, for God himself will come for fruit. 
 
 « And he sought fruit thereon,’ 
 
 You have some professors, that are only saints 
 before men when they are abroad, but are devils 
 and vipers at home; saints by profession, but 
 devils by practice ; saints in word, but sinners in 
 heart and life. These men may have the profes¬ 
 sion, but they want the fruits that become repent¬ 
 ance. 1 
 
 Barren fig-tree, can it be imagined that those 
 that paint themselves did ever repent of their 
 pride? or that those that pursue this world did 
 ever repent of their covetousness? or that those 
 that walk with wanton eyes did ever repent of 
 their fleshly lusts? Where, barren fig-tree, is the 
 fruit of these people’s repentance? Nay, do they 
 not rather declare to the world that they have re¬ 
 pented of their profession ? Their fruits look as if 
 they had. Their pride saitli they have repented 
 of their humility. Their covetousness declareth 
 that they are weary of depending upon God; and 
 doth not thy wanton actions declare that thou ab 
 horrest chastity? Where is thy fruit, barren fig- 
 tree? Repentance is not only a sorrow, and a 
 shame for, but a turning from sin to God; it is 
 called ‘ repentance from dead works.’ He. vi. x. Hast 
 thou that ‘ godly sorrow ’ that ‘ worketh repentance 
 to salvation, not to be l'epented of?’ 2 Co. vii. 10 , 11 . 
 How dost thou show thy carefulness, and clearing 
 of thyself; thy indignation against sin; thy fear of 
 offending; thy vehement desire to walk with God ; 
 thy zeal for his name and glory in the world? 
 And what revenge hast thou in thy heart against 
 every thought of disobedience? 
 
 But where is the fruit of this repentance? Where 
 is thy watching, thy fasting, thy praying against 
 the remainders of corruption ? Where is thy self- 
 abhorrence, thy blushing before God, for the sin 
 that is yet behind? Where is thy tenderness of 
 the name of God and his ways? Where is thy 
 self-denial and contentment ? How dost thou show 
 before men the truth of thy turning to God? Hast 
 thou * renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, 
 not walking in craftiness?’ Canst thou commend 
 
 1 See the character of Talkative, in the Pilgrim’s Progress , 
 p. 122. ‘ His house is as empty of religion as the white ot an 
 
 egg is of savour. There is in his house neither prayer, nor 
 sign of repentance for sin. He is the very stain, reproach, 
 and shame of religion. Thus say the common people that 
 know r him, A saint abroad and a devil at home.’—(Ei>.) 
 
 thyself ‘ to every man’s conscience in the sight of 
 God? ’ 2 Co. iv. 2 . 
 
 Second. God expecteth fruits that shall answer 
 that faith which thou makest profession of. The 
 professor that is got into the vineyard of God doth 
 feign that he hath the faith, the faith most holy, 
 the faith of God’s elect. Ah! but where are thy 
 fruits, barren fig-tree ? The faith of the Romans 
 was ‘spoken of throughout the whole world.’ Ro. 
 i. 8. And the Thessalonians’ faith grew exceed¬ 
 ingly. 2 Tli. i. 3 . 
 
 Thou professest to believe thou hast a share in 
 another world: hast thou let go this, barren fig- 
 tree? Thou professest thou believest in Christ: 
 is he thy joy, and the life of thy soul ? Yea, what 
 conformity unto him, to his sorrows and sufferings? 
 What resemblance hath his crying, and groaning, 
 and bleeding, and dying, wrought in thee? Dost 
 thou ‘ bear about in thy body the dying of the 
 Lord Jesus?’ and is also the life of Jesus ‘ made 
 manifest in thy mortal body ? ’ 2 Co. iv. 10, 11 . Barren 
 fig-tree, ‘ show me thy faith by thy works.’ 4 Show 
 out of a good conversation thy works with meek¬ 
 ness of wisdom.’ Ja. ii. 18; iii. 13 . What fruit, barren 
 fig-tree, what degree of heart-holiness ? for faith 
 puiifies the heart. Ac. xv. 9 . W hat love to the Lord 
 Jesus? for 4 faith worketh by love.’ Ga. v. 0 . 
 
 Third. God expecteth fruits according to the 
 seasons of grace thou art under, according to the 
 rain that cometh upon thee. Perhaps thou art 
 planted in a good soil, by gi’eat waters, that thou 
 migh test bring forth branches, and bear fruit; that 
 thou mightest be a goodly vine or fig-tree. Shall 
 he not therefore seek for fruit, for fruit answerable 
 to the means? Barren fig-tree, God expects it, 
 and will find it too, if ever he bless thee. ‘For 
 the earth which drinketh in the rain that cometh 
 oft upon it, and bringeth forth herbs meet for them 
 by whom it is dressed, receiveth blessing from 
 God: but that which beareth thorns and briars is 
 rejected, and is nigh unto cursing, whose end is 
 to be burned.’ He. vi. 7 ,8. 
 
 Barren soul, how many showers of grace, how 
 many dews from heaven, how many times have the 
 silver streams of the city of God run gliding by 
 thy roots, to cause thee to bring forth fruit! These 
 showers and streams, and the drops that hang upon 
 thy boughs, will all be accounted for; and will 
 they not testify against thee that thou oughtest, 
 of right, to be burned ? Hear and tremble, 0 thou 
 barren professor! Fruits that become thy profes¬ 
 sion of the gospel, the God of heaven expecteth. 
 The gospel hath in it the forgiveness of sins, the 
 kingdom of heaven, and eternal life; but what 
 fruit hath thy profession of a belief of these things 
 put forth in thy heart and life? Hast thou given 
 thyself to the Lord? and is all that thou hast to 
 be ventured for his name in this world? Dost 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 569 
 
 thou walk like one that is bought with a jtrice, 
 even with the price of precious blood ? 
 
 Fourth. The fruit that God expecteth is such as 
 is meet for himself; fruit that may glorify God. 
 God’s trees are trees of righteousness, the planting 
 of the Lord, that he may he glorified ; fruit that 
 tasteth of heaven, abundance of such fruit. For 
 ‘ herein,’ saith Christ, ‘ is my Father glorified, that 
 ye bear much fruit.’ Jn. xv. 8. Fruits of all kinds, 
 new and old ; the fruits of the Spirit are in all 
 goodness, and righteousness, and truth. Fruits 
 before the world, fruits before the saints, fruits 
 before God, fruits before angels. 
 
 0 my brethren, ‘ what manner of persons ought 
 we to be,’ who have subscribed to the Lord, and 
 have called ourselves by the name of Israel? ‘ One 
 shall say I am the Lord’s ; and another shall call 
 ldmsclf by the name of Jacob ; and another shall 
 subscribe with his hand unto the Lord, and sur¬ 
 name himself by the name of Israel. ’ Is. xliv. 5. Barren 
 fig-tree, hast thou subscribed, hast thou called thy¬ 
 self by the name of Jacob, and surnamed thyself 
 by the name of Israel ? All this thou pretendest 
 to, who art got into the vineyard, who art placed 
 among the trees of the garden of God. God doth 
 therefore look for such fruit as is worthy of his 
 name, as is meet for him ; as the apostle saith, 
 
 ‘ we should walk worthy of God ;’ that is, so as we 
 may show in every place that the presence of God 
 is with us, his fear in us, and his majesty and 
 authority upon our actions. Fruits meet for him, 
 such a dependence upon him, such trust in his 
 word, such satisfaction in his presence, such a 
 trusting of him with all my concerns, and such de¬ 
 light in the enjoyment of him, that may demon¬ 
 strate that his fear is in my heart, that my soul is 
 wrapped up in his things, and that my body, and 
 soul, and estate, and all, are in truth, through his 
 grace, at his dispose, fruit meet for him. Hearty 
 thanks, and blessing God for Jesus Christ, for his 
 good word, for his free grace, for the discovery of 
 himself in Christ to the soul, secret longing after 
 another world, fruit meet for him. Liberality to 
 the poor saints, to the poor world ; a life in word 
 and deed exemplary ; a patient and quiet enduring 
 of all things, till 1 have done and suffered the whole 
 will of God, which he hath appointed for me. ‘ That 
 on the good ground are they which, in an honest 
 and good heart, having heard the word, keep it, 
 and bring forth fruit with patience.’ Lu. yiii 15. This 
 is bringing forth fruit unto God; having our ‘fruit 
 unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.’ ito. vii. 
 4 ; vL 22 ; xiv. 8. 
 
 Fifth. The Lord expects fruit becoming the vine¬ 
 yard of God. ‘ The vineyard,’ saith he, * in a very 
 fruitful hill:’ witness the fruit brought forth in all 
 ages. is. v. 1 . The most barren trees that ever grew 
 in the wood of this world, when planted in this vine- 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 yard by the God of heaven, what fruit to Godward 
 have they brought forth ! ‘ Abel offered the more 
 
 excellent sacrifice.’ He. xi. 4 . Enoch walked with 
 God three hundred years. He. xi. 5. Noah, by his 
 life of faith, ‘ condemned the world, and became 
 heir of the righteousness which is by faith.’ lie. xi. 7. 
 Abraham left his country, and went out after God, 
 not knowing whither he went. He. xi. 8 . Moses left 
 a kingdom, and run the hazard of the wrath of 
 the king, for the love he had to God and Christ. 
 What shall I say of them who had trials, ‘ not ac¬ 
 cepting deliverance, that they might obtain a bet¬ 
 ter resurrection? They were stoned; they were 
 sawn asunder; were tempted; were slain with the 
 sword; they wandered about in sheep-skins and 
 goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented.’ 
 He. xi. 35-37. Peter left his father, ship, and nets. 
 Mat. iv. 18—20. Paul turned off from the feet of Ga¬ 
 maliel. Men brought their goods and possessions 
 (the price of them) and cast it down at the apostle’s 
 feet. Ac. xix. 18—20. And others brought their books 
 together, and burned them ; curious books, though 
 they were worth fifty thousand pieces of silver. I 
 could add how many willingly offered themselves 
 in all ages, and their all, for the worthy name of 
 the Lord Jesus, to be racked, starved, hanged, 
 burned, drowned, pulled in pieces, and a thousand 
 calamities. 1 Barren fig-tree, the vineyard of God 
 hath been a fruitful place. What dost thou there ? 
 What dost thou bear? God expects fruit accord¬ 
 ing to, or becoming the soil of the vineyard. 
 
 Sixth. The fruit which God expecteth is such as 
 becometh God’s husbandry and labour. The vine¬ 
 yard is God’s husbandry, or tillage. ‘ I am the 
 true vine,’ saith Christ, ‘and my Father is the hus¬ 
 bandman.’ Jn. xv. 1 . And again, ‘Ye are God’s 
 husbandry, ye are God’s building.’ 1 Co. iii. 9. The 
 vineyard ; God fences it, God gathereth out the 
 stones, God builds the tower, and the wine-press 
 in the midst thereof. Here is labour, here is 
 protection, here is removing of hindrances, here 
 is convenient purgation, and all that there might 
 be fruit. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, what fruit hast thou ? Hast 
 thou fruit becoming the care of God, the protection 
 of God, the wisdom of God, the patience and hus¬ 
 bandry of God ? It is the fruit of the vineyard 
 that is either the shame or the praise of the hus- 
 bandmau. ‘I went by the field of the slothful,’ 
 saith Solomon, ‘ and by the vineyard of the man 
 void of understanding ; and lo, it was all grown 
 
 1 -—- 
 
 1 IIow great is the mercy that those horrid barbarities, 
 perpetrated upon peaceful Christians, are now ouiy heard of in 
 those distant parts of Satan’s empire, China and Madagascar 1 
 Has the enmity of the human heart by nature changed? 
 No; but the number of Christians has so vastly increased with 
 a civilizing influence, as to change the face of society. What 
 a paradise will this earth become when Christ shall reign in 
 every heart!—(ho.) 
 
 72 
 
570 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face 
 thereof. * Pr. xxxiv. 30—32. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, if men should make a judgment 
 of the care, and pains, and labour of God in his 
 church, by the fruit that thou bringest forth, what 
 might they say? Is lie not slothful, is not he care¬ 
 less, is lie not without discretion ? 0 ! thy thorns, 
 
 thy nettles, thy barren heart and barren life, is a 
 continual provocation to the eyes of his glory, as 
 likewise a dishonour to the glory of his grace. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, hast thou heard all these things ? 
 I will add yet one more. 
 
 ‘ And he came and sought fruit thereon .* 
 
 The question is not now, What thou thinkest of 
 thyself, nor what all the people of God think of 
 thee, but what thou shalt be found in that day 
 when God shall search thy boughs for fruit? When 
 Sodom was to be searched for righteous men, God 
 would not, in that matter, trust his faithful ser¬ 
 vant Abraham ; but still, as Abraham interceded, 
 God answered, ‘ If I find fifty, - or forty and five 
 there, I will not destroy the city. ’ Ge. xviii. 20-28. 
 Barren fig-tree, what sayest thou ? God will 
 come down to see, God will make search for fruit 
 himself. 
 
 ‘ And he came and sought fruit thereon, and 
 found none. Then said he unto the dresser of the 
 vinej r ard, Behold, these three years I come seeking 
 fruit on this fig-tree, and find none ; cut it down, 
 why cumbereth it the ground ?’ 
 
 These words are the effects of God’s search into 
 the boughs of a barren fig-tree ; he sought fruit, 
 and found none—none to his liking, none pleasant 
 and good. Therefore, first, he complains of the 
 want thereof to the dresser; calls him to come, and 
 see, and take notice of the tree ; then signifieth 
 his pleasure: he will have it removed, taken away, 
 cut down from cumbering the ground. 
 
 Observe, The barren fig-tree is the object of 
 God’s displeasure; God cannot bear with a fruit¬ 
 less professor. 
 
 Then said he, &c. 
 
 Then, after this provocation ; then, after he had 
 sought and found no fruit, then. This word, then, 
 doth show us a kind of an inward disquietness; as 
 he saith also in another place, upon a like provo¬ 
 cation. ‘ Then the anger of the Lord, and his 
 jealousy, shall smoke against that man, and all the 
 curses that are written in this book shall lie upon 
 him, and the Lord shall blot out his name from 
 under heaven.’ De. xxix. is— 20. 
 
 Then ; it intimatetli that he was now come to a 
 point, to a resolution what to do with this fig-tree. 
 ‘Then said he to the dresser of this vineyard,’ that 
 is, to Jesus Christ, ‘behold,’ as much as to say, 
 come hither, here is a fig-tree in my vineyard, here 
 
 is a professor in my church, that is barren, that 
 beareth no fruit. 
 
 Observe, However the barren professor thinks 
 of himself on earth, the Lord cries out in heaven 
 against him. ‘ And now go to, I will tell you 
 what I will do to my vineyard : I will take away 
 the hedge thereof, and it shall be eaten up ; and 
 
 1 will break down the wall thereof, and it shall be 
 trodden down. ’ is. v. 5. 
 
 ‘ Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit. ’ 
 
 Observe, ‘These three years.’ God cries out 
 that this patience is abused, that his forbearance is 
 abused. Behold, these three years I have waited, 
 forborne; these three years I have deferred mine 
 anger. ‘ Therefore will I stretch out my hand 
 against thee, and destroy thee ; I am weary with 
 repenting.’ Je. xv. 6. ‘These three years.’ Ob¬ 
 serve, God layeth up all the time ; I say, a re- 
 membrauce of all the time that a barren fig-tree, 
 or a fruitless professor, misspelldeth in this world. 
 As he saith also of Israel of old, ‘ forty years long 
 was I grieved with this generation.’ Ps. xcv. 10 . 
 
 ‘ These three years,’ (fee. These three seasons: 
 Observe, God remembers how many seasons thou 
 hast misspent : for these three years signify so 
 many seasons. And when the time of fruit drew 
 nigh, that is, about the season they begin to be 
 ripe, or that according to the season might so have 
 been. Barren fig-tree, thou hast had time, sea¬ 
 sons, sermons, ministers, afflictions, judgments, 
 mercies, and what not; and yet hast not been 
 fruitful. Thou hast had awakenings, reproofs, 
 threatenings, comforts, and yet hast not been fruit¬ 
 ful. Thou hast had patterns, examples, citations, 
 provocations, and yet hast not been fruitful. Well, 
 God hath laid up thy three years with himself. He 
 remembers every time, every season, every sermon, 
 every minister, affliction, judgment, mercy, awaken¬ 
 ing, pattern, example, citation, provocation; he re¬ 
 members all. As he said of Israel of old, ‘They 
 have tempted me now these ten times, and have 
 not hearkened to my voice.’ Nu. xiv. 22. And again, 
 ‘ I remember all their wickedness. ’ Ho. vii. 2. 
 
 ‘ These three years,’ (fee. He seeks for the fruit 
 of every season. He will not that any of his ser¬ 
 mons, ministers, afflictions, judgments, or mercies, 
 should be lost, or stand for insignificant things; 
 he will have according to the benefit bestowed. 
 
 2 Ch. xxxii. 24, 25. He hath not done without a cause 
 all that he hath done, and therefore he looketn for 
 fruit. Eze. xiv. 23. Look to it, barren fio'-tree. 1 
 
 1 In the midst of these faithful admonitions, we venture to 
 remark that, according to Lightfoot, so valuable was the fig- 
 tree that it was never destroyed until means were carefully 
 used to restore its fruitfulness, and that the use of these means 
 occupied a period of three years. This illustrates the wisdom 
 of our Lord in selecting the fig-tree as the principal object 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 571 
 
 I came ‘ seeking ’ fruit. 
 
 Observe, This word ‘ seeking ’ signifies a narrow 
 search; for when a man seeks for fruit on a tree, 
 he goes round it and round it; now looking into 
 this bough, and then into that; he peeks into the 
 inmost boughs, and the lowermost boughs, if per¬ 
 haps fruit may be thereon. Barren fig-tree, God 
 will look into all thy boughs, he will be with thee 
 in thy bed-fruits, thy midnight-fruits, thy closet- 
 fruits, thy family-fruits, thy conversation-fruits, to 
 see if there be any among all these that are fit for, 
 or worthy of the name of the God of heaven. He 
 sees ‘ what the ancients of the house of Israel do 
 in the dark.’ Eze. viii. 12. ‘ All things are naked and 
 
 opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have 
 to do.’ He. iv. 12, 13 . 
 
 Seeking fruit on ‘ tiiis ’ Jig-tree. 
 
 I told you before, that he keeps in remembrance 
 the times and seasons that the barren professor had 
 wickedly misspent. Now, forasmuch as he also 
 pointeth out the fig-tree, this fig-tree, it showeth 
 that the barren professor, above all professors, is a 
 continual odium in the eyes of God. This fig-tree, 
 
 ‘ this man Coniah.’ Je. xxii. 28. This people draw 
 nigh me with their mouth, but have removed their 
 hearts far from me. God knows who they are 
 among all the thousands of Israel that are the 
 barren and fruitless professors; his lot will fall upon 
 the head of Achan, though he be hid among six 
 hundred thousand men. ‘ And lie brought his 
 household, man by man, and Achan, the son of 
 Carmi, the son of Zabdi, the son of Zera, of the 
 tribe of Judah, was taken.’ Jos. vii. 17, is. This is 
 the Achan, this is the fig-tree, this is the barren 
 professor ! 
 
 There is a man hath a hundred trees in his vine¬ 
 yard, and at the time of the season, he walketh into 
 his vineyard to see how the trees flourish; and as 
 he goes, and views, and prys, and observes how 
 they are hanged with fruit, behold, he cometh to 
 one where he findeth naught but leaves. Now lie 
 makes a stand; looks upon it again and again; he 
 looks also here and there, above and below; and if 
 after all this seeking, he finds nothing but leaves 
 thereon, then he begins to cast in his mind, how 
 he may know this tree next year; what stands next 
 it, or how far it is off the hedge ? But if there be 
 
 # o 
 
 nothing there that may be as a mark to know it 
 by, then he takes his hook, and giveth it a private 
 mark—* And the Lord set a mark upon Cain,’ 
 Ge. iv. saying, Go thy ways, fruitless fig-tree, thou 
 hast spent this season in vain. Yet doth he not 
 
 prese..teu to view in liis parable. It is a most valuable tree— 
 capable ot bearing much fruit; still, alter every trial, if it re¬ 
 mains barren, it must be cut down as a cumber-ground, and 
 sent to the fire.—(Eo.) 
 
 cut it down, I will try it another year: maybe this 
 was not a hitting 1 season. Therefore he comes 
 again next year, to see if now it have fruit; but as 
 he found it before, so he finds it now, barren, barren, 
 every year barren; he looks again, but finds no 
 fruit. Now he begins to have second thoughts, 
 How ! neither hit last year nor this ? Surely the 
 barrenness is not in the season; sure the fault is in 
 the tree; however, I will spare it this year also, 
 but will give it a second mark ; and it may be he 
 toucheth it with a hot iron, because he begins to 
 be angry. 
 
 Well, at the third season he comes again for 
 fruit, but the third year is like the first and second; 
 no fruit yet; it only cumbereth the ground. What 
 now must be done with this fig-tree ? Why, the 
 Lord will lop its boughs with terror; yea, the 
 thickets of those professors with iron. I have 
 waited, saith God, these three years; I have missed 
 of fruit these three years ; it hath been a cumber- 
 ground these three years ; cut it down. Precept 
 hath been upon precept, and line upon line, one 
 year after another, for these three years, but no 
 fruit can be seen; I find none, fetch out the axe ! 
 
 I am sure this is the fig-tree, I know it from the 
 first year; barrenness was its sign then, barrenness 
 is its sign now ; make it fit for the fire ! Behold, 
 
 * now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees; 
 therefore, every tree that bringeth not forth good 
 fruit, is hewn down, and cast into the fire.’ Mat.iii.io. 
 
 Observe, mv brethren, God’s heart cannot stand 
 towards a barren fig-tree. You know thus it is 
 with yourselves. If you have a tree in your orchard 
 or vineyard that doth only cumber the ground, 
 you cannot look upon that tree with pleasure, with 
 complacency and delight. No; if you do but go 
 by it, if you do but cast your eye upon it: yea, if 
 you do but think of that tree, you threaten it in 
 your heart, saying, I will hew thee down shortly; 
 I will to the fire with thee shortly: and it is in vain 
 for any to think of persuading of you to show fa¬ 
 vour to the barren fig-tree; and if they should per¬ 
 suade, your answer is irresistible, It yields me no 
 profit, it takes up room and doth no good; a better 
 may grow in its room. 
 
 Cut it down. 
 
 Thus, when the godly among the Jews made 
 prayers that rebellious Israel might not be cast 
 out of the vineyard, what saith the answer of God? 
 Je. xiv. 17 . ‘ Though Moses and Samuel stood before 
 
 me, yet my mind could not be toward this people:’ 
 wherefore ‘ cast them out of my sight, and let them 
 go forth.’ Je. xv. 1. 
 
 What a resolution is here ! Moses and Samuel 
 
 1 A ‘hit,’ in some parts of the country, is used to express 
 a good crop. A ‘hitting season’ means a fruitful season. — 
 (Ed.) 
 
572 
 
 THE BARREN ElG-TREE, OR 
 
 could do almost anything with God in prayer. 
 How many times did Moses by prayer turn away 
 God’s judgments from even Pharaoh himself ! yea, 
 how many times did he by prayer preserve Israel, 
 when in the wilderness, from the anger and wrath 
 of God ! Ps. cvi. 23. Samuel is reckoned excellent 
 this way, vea, so excellent, that when Israel had 
 done that fearful thing as to reject the Lord, and 
 choose them another king, he prayed, and the 
 Lord spared, and forgave them. 1 sa. xii. But yet 
 neither Moses nor Samuel can save a barren fig- 
 tree. No; though Moses and Samuel stood before 
 me, that is, pleading, arguing, interceding, suppli¬ 
 cating, and beseeching, yet could they not incline 
 mine heart to this people. 
 
 Cut it down. 
 
 4 Ay, but Lord, it is a fig-tree, a fig-tree!’ If it 
 
 was a thorn, or a bramble, or a thistle, the matter 
 
 would not be much; but it is a fig-tree, or a vine. 
 
 Well, but mark the answer of God, 4 Son of man, 
 
 What is the vine-tree more than any tree, or than 
 
 a branch which is among the trees of the forest? 
 
 Shall wood be taken thereof to do anv work? or 
 
 •> 
 
 will men take a pin of it to hang any vessel there¬ 
 on ?’ Eze. xv. 2, 3 . If trees that are set, or planted 
 for fruit, bring not forth that fruit, there is be¬ 
 twixt them and the trees of the forest no better¬ 
 ment at all, unless the betterment lieth in the trees 
 of the wood, for they are fit to build withal; but a 
 fig-tree, or a vine, if they bring not forth fruit, yea, 
 good fruit, they are fit for nothing at all, but to 
 be cut down and prepared for the fire; and so the 
 prophet goes on, 4 Behold, it is cast into the fire 
 for fuel.’ If it serve not for fruit it will serve for 
 fuel, and so 4 the fire devoureth both the ends of 
 it, and the midst of it is burnt.’ 
 
 Ay, but these fig-trees and vines are church- 
 members, inhabiters of Jerusalem. So was the 
 fig-tree mentioned in the text. But what answer 
 hath God prepared for these objections? Why, 
 
 4 Thus saith the Lord God, As the vine-tree among 
 the trees of the forest, which I have given to the 
 fire for fuel; so will I give the inhabitants of 
 Jerusalem; and I will set my face against them, 
 they shall go out from one fire, and another fire 
 shall devour them.’ Eze. xv. 6 , 7 . 
 
 Cut it down. 
 
 The woman that delighteth in her garden, if she 
 have a slip there, suppose, if it was fruitful, she 
 would not take five pounds for it; yet if it bear 
 no fruit, if it wither, and dwindle, and die, and 
 turn cumber-ground only, it may not stand in her 
 garden. Gardens and vineyards are places for 
 fruit, for fruit according to the nature of the plant 
 or flowers. Suppose such a slip as I told you of 
 before should be in your garden, and there die, 
 
 would you let it abide in your garden ? No; away 
 with it, away with it! The woman comes into her 
 garden towards the spring, where first she gives 
 it a slight cast with her eye, then she sets to 
 gathering out the weeds, and nettles, and stones; 
 takes a besom and sweeps the walks; this done, 
 she falls to prying into her herbs and slips, to see 
 if they live, to see if they are likely to grow. 
 Now, if she comes to one that is dead, that she is 
 confident will not grow, up she pulls that, and 
 makes to the heap of rubbish with it, where she 
 despisingly casts it down, and valueth it no more 
 than a nettle, or a weed, or than the dust she hath 
 swept out of her walks. Yea, if any that see her 
 should say, Why do you so? the answer is ready, 
 It is dead, it is dead at root; if I had let it stand 
 it would but have cumbered the ground. The 
 strange slips, and also the dead ones, they must be 
 4 a heap in the day of grief, and of desperate sor¬ 
 row.’ Is. xvii. 10 , 11 . 
 
 Cat it down. 
 
 There are two manner of cuttings down ; First. 
 When a man is cast out of the vineyard. Second. 
 When a man is cast out of the world. 
 
 First. When a man is cast out of the vineyard. 
 And that is done two ways; 1. By an immediate 
 hand of God. 2. By the church’s due execution of 
 the laws and censures which Christ for that pur¬ 
 pose has left with his church. 
 
 1. God cuts down the barren fig-tree by an im¬ 
 mediate hand, smiting his roots, blasting his 
 branches, and so takes him away from among his 
 people. 4 Every branch,’ saith Christ, 4 that 
 beareth not fruit in me, he,’ my Father, 4 taketh 
 away.’ Jn. xv. 2 . He taketh him out of the church, 
 he taketh him away from the godly. There are 
 two things by which God taketh the barren pro¬ 
 fessor from among the children of God: (1.) Strong 
 delusions. (2.) Open profaneness. 
 
 (1.) By strong delusion; such as beguile the 
 soul with damnable doctrines, that swerve from 
 faith and godliness, 4 They have chosen their own 
 ways,’ saith God, 4 and their soul delighteth in 
 their abominations. I also will choose their delu¬ 
 sions, and will bring their fears upon them.’ is.ixvi. 
 s, 4 . I will smite them with blindness, and hardness 
 of heart, and failing of eyes; and will also suffer 
 the tempter to tempt and affect his hellish designs 
 upon them. 4 God shall send them strong delusion, 
 that they should believe a lie; that they all might 
 be damned who believed not the truth, but had 
 pleasure in unrighteousness.’ 2 Th. ii. 10-12. 
 
 (2.) Sometimes God takes away a barren pro¬ 
 fessor by open profaneness. There is one hath 
 taken up a profession of that worthy name, the 
 Lord Jesus Christ; but this profession is but a 
 cloak ; he secretly practiseth wickedness. He is 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 573 
 
 a glutton, a drunkard, or covetous, or unclean. 
 Well, saith God, I will loose the reins of this pro¬ 
 fessor ; I will give him up to his vile affections; 1 
 will loose the reins of his lusts before him ; he shall 
 he entangled with his beastly lusts; he shall be 
 overcome of ungodly company. Thus they that 
 turn aside to their own crooked ways ‘ the Lord 
 shall lead them forth with the workers of iniquity.’ 
 r& cxxv. 5. This is God’s hand immediately; God 
 is now dealing with this man himself. Barren fig- 
 tree, hearken! Thou art crowded into a profession, 
 art got among the godly, and there art a scandal 
 to the holy and glorious gospel; but withal so cun¬ 
 ning that, like the sons of Zeruiah, thou art too 
 hard for the church; she knows not how to deal 
 with thee. Well, saith God, I will deal with that 
 naan myself, ‘ I will answer that man by myself.’ 
 He that sets up his idols in his heart, and puts the 
 stumbling-block of his iniquity before his face, and 
 yet comes aud appears before me, ‘ I will set my 
 face against that man, and will make him a sign 
 and a proverb: and I will cut him off from the 
 midst of my people; and ye shall know that I am 
 the Lord.’ Eze. xiv. 7 , 8. But, 
 
 2. God doth sometimes cut down the barren fig- 
 tree by the church, by the church's due execution 
 of the laws and censures which Christ for that pur¬ 
 pose hath left with his church. This is the mean¬ 
 ing of that in Mat. xviii; 1 Cor. v: and that in Him. i. 20 . 
 upon which now I shall not enlarge, But which 
 way soever God dealeth with thee, 0 thou barren 
 fig-tree, whither by himself immediately, or by his 
 church, it amounts to one and the same; for if 
 timely repentance prevent not, the end of that soul 
 is damnation. They are blasted, and withered, and 
 gathered by men, God’s enemies; and at last being 
 cast into the fire burning must be their end. ‘ That 
 which beareth thorns and briars is nigh unto curs¬ 
 ing, whose end is to be burned.’ He. vi. 8 . * 
 
 Second. And, again, sometimes by ‘Cut it down’ 
 God means, cast it out of the world. Thus he cut 
 down Nadab and Abihu, when he burned them up 
 with fire from heaven. Thus he cut down Korah, 
 Dathan, and Abiram, when he made the earth to 
 swallow them up. Nu. iii. 4 ; xvi. 31 - 33 . Thus he cut 
 down Saul, when he gave him up to fall upon the 
 edge of his own sword, and died. iSa. xxxi. 4 . Thus 
 he cut down Ananias, with Sapphira his wife, when 
 he struck them down dead in the midst of the con¬ 
 gregation. Ac. v. 5 , io. I might here also discourse 
 of Absalom, Ahithophel, and Judas, who were all 
 three hanged: the first by God’s revenging hand, 
 the others were given up of God to be their own 
 executioners. These were barren and unprofitable 
 fig-trees, such as God took no pleasure in, there¬ 
 fore he commanded to cut them down. The 
 Psalmist saith, ‘ He shall take them awav a3 with 
 a whirlwind, both living, and in his wrath.’ rs.iviii. 9 . 
 
 Barren fig-tree, hearken! God calls for the axe, 
 his sword; bring it hither; here is a barren pro¬ 
 fessor. Cut him down, why cumbereth he the 
 groimd ? 
 
 Why cumbereth it the ground ? 
 
 Bv these words the Lord sugoresteth reasons of 
 his displeasure against the barren fig-tree; it cum¬ 
 bereth the ground. The Holy Ghost doth not 
 only take an argument from its barrenness, but 
 because it is a cumber-ground, therefore cut it 
 down; wherefore it must needs be a provocation. 
 1. Because, as much as in him lieth, he disappoint¬ 
 ed the design of God in planting his vineyard; I 
 looked that it should bring forth fruit. 2. It hath 
 also abused his patience, his long-suffering, his 
 three years’ patience. 3. It hath also abused his 
 labour, his pains, his care, and providence of pro¬ 
 tection and preservation: for he hedges his vineyard, 
 and walls it about. Cumber-ground, all these things 
 thou abusest! He waters his vineyard, and looks 
 to it night and day ; but all these things thou hast 
 abused. 
 
 Further, there are other reasons of God’s dis¬ 
 pleasure ; as, 
 
 First. A cumber-ground is a very mock and re¬ 
 proach of religion, a mock and reproach to the ways 
 of God, to the people of God, to the Word of God, 
 and to the name of religion. It is expected of all 
 hands, that all the trees in the garden of God should 
 be fruitful: God expects fruit, the church expects 
 fruit, the world, even the world, concludes that 
 professors should be fruitful in good works; I say, 
 the world expecteth that professors should be better 
 than themselves. But, barren fig-tree, thou disap- 
 pointest all. Nay, hast thou not learned the wicked 
 ones thy ways? Hast thou not learned them to 
 be more wicked by thy example ?—but that is by 
 the by. Barren fig-tree, thou hast disappointed 
 others, and must be disappointed thyself! * Cut 
 it down, why cumbereth it the ground?’ 
 
 Second. The barren fig-tree takes up the room 
 where a better tree might stand; I say, it takes 
 up the room, it keeps, so long as it stands where 
 it doth ; a fruitful tree out of that place, and there¬ 
 fore it must be cut down. Barren fig-tree, dost 
 thou hear? Because the Jew3 stood fruitless in 
 the vineyard, therefore, saith God, ‘ The kingdom 
 of God shall be taken from you,’ and given to a 
 nation that shall render him their fruits in their 
 season. Mat. xxi. 33-41. The Jews for their barren¬ 
 ness were cut down, and more fruitful people put 
 in their room. As Samuel also said to barren 
 Saul, ‘ The Lord hath rent the kingdom from 
 thee, and hath given it to a neighbour of thine 
 that is better than thou.’ 1 Sa. xv. 28. The unprofit¬ 
 able servant must be cast out, must be cut down. 
 
 Mat. xx y. 27 . 
 
574 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 Cumber-ground, how many hopeful, inclinable, 
 forward people, hast thou by thy fruitless and un¬ 
 profitable life, kept out of the vineyard of God? 
 For thy sake have the people stumbled at religion ; 
 by thy life have they been kept from the love of 
 their own salvation. Thou hast been also a means 
 of hardening others, and of quenching and killing 
 weak beginnings. Well, barren fig-tree, look to 
 thyself, thou wilt not go to heaven thyself, and them 
 that would, thou hinderest; thou must not always 
 cumber the ground, nor always hinder the salvation 
 of others. Thou shalt be cut down, and another 
 shall be planted in thy room. 
 
 Third. The cumber ground is a sucker; be draws 
 away the heart and nourishment from the other 
 trees. Were the cumber ground cut down, the 
 others would be more fruitful; he draws away that 
 fatness of the ground to himself, that would make 
 the others more hearty and fruitful. ‘ One sinner 
 destroyeth much good.’ Ec. ix. is. 
 
 The cumber ground is a very drone in the hive, 
 that eats up the honey that should feed the labour¬ 
 ing bee; he is a thief in the candle, that wastetli 
 the tallow, but giveth no light; he is the unsavoury 
 salt, that is fit for nought but the dunghill. Look 
 to it, barren fig-tree! 
 
 And he answering, said unto him, Lord, let it alone 
 this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung 
 it; and if it bear fruit , well; and if not, then 
 after that, thou shalt cut it down. ver. 8, 9 . 
 
 These are the words of the dresser of the vine¬ 
 yard, who, I told you, is Jesus Christ, for he made 
 intercession for the transgressors. And they con¬ 
 tain a petition presented to an offended justice, 
 praying, that a little more time and patience might 
 be exercised towards the barren cumber-ground 
 fig-tree. 
 
 In this petition there are six things considerable: 
 1. That justice might be deferred. 0 that justice 
 might be deferred! ‘Lord, let it alone,’ &c., a 
 while longer. 2. Here is time prefixed, as a space 
 to try if more means will cure a barren fig-tree. 
 
 ‘ Lord, let it alone this year also.’ 3. The means 
 to help it are propounded, ‘ until I shall dig about 
 it, and duns: it.’ 1 4. Here is also an insinuation 
 
 of a supposition, that, by thus doing, God’s expec¬ 
 tation may be answered ; ‘ and if it bear fruit, well. ’ 
 5. Here is a supposition that the barren fig-tree 
 may yet abide barren, when Christ hath done what 
 he will unto it; ‘ and if it bear fruit,’ &c. 6. Here 
 
 is at last a resolution, that if thou continue barren, 
 
 1 This mode of infusing new vigour into plants and trees 
 is thus described in the Gemara —‘ They lay dung in their 
 gardeus, to soften the earth. They dig about the roots of 
 their trees, and sprinkle ashes, and pluck up suckers, anu 
 make a smoke beneath to kill vermin. 7 — (Ed.) 
 
 hewing days will come upon thee *, ‘ and it it hear 
 fruit, well; and if not, then after that thou shalt 
 cut it down. ’ But to proceed according to my former 
 method, by way of exposition. 
 
 Lord , let it alone this year also. 
 
 Here is astonishing grace indeed! astonishing 
 grace, I say, that the Lord Jesus should concern 
 himself with a barren fig-tree; that he should 
 step in to stop the blow from a barren fig-tree! 1 
 True, he stopped the blow but for a time; but 
 why did he stop it at all ? Why did not he fetch 
 out the axe ? Why did he not do execution ? Why 
 did not he cut it down? Barren fig-tree, it is well 
 for thee that there is a Jesus at God’s right hand, 
 a Jesus of that largeness of bowels, as to have com¬ 
 passion for a barren fig-tree, else justice had never 
 let thee alone to cumber the ground as thou hast 
 done! When Israel also had sinned against God, 
 down they had gone, but that Moses stood in the 
 breach. * Let me alone,’ said God to him, ‘that 
 I may consume them ’ in a moment, ‘ and I will 
 make of thee a great nation.’ Ex. xxxii. 10. Barren 
 fio , -tree, dost thou hear? Thou knowest not how 
 oft the hand of Divine justice hath been up to 
 strike, and how many years since thou hadst been 
 cut down, had not Jesus caught hold of his Father’s 
 axe. Let me alone, let me fetch my blow, or ‘ Cut 
 it down, why cumbereth it the ground?’ Wilt 
 thou not hear yet, barren fig-tree ? Wilt thou pro¬ 
 voke still ? Thou hast wearied men, and provoked 
 the justice of God! And ‘ will ye weary my God 
 also ? ’ Is. vii. 13 . 
 
 Lord, let it alone this year. 
 
 Lord, a little longer! let us not lose a soul for 
 want of means. I will try, I will see if I can make 
 it fruitful, I will not beg a long life, nor that it 
 might still be barren, and so provoke thee. I beg, 
 for the sake of the soul, the immortal soul; Lord, 
 spare it one year only, one year longer, this year 
 also. If I do any good to it, it will be in little 
 time. Thou shalt not be over wearied with wait¬ 
 ing ; one year and then. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, dost thou hear what a striving 
 there is between the vine-dresser and the husband¬ 
 man, for thy life ? ‘ Cut it down, ’ says one; ‘ Lord, 
 spare it,’ saith the other. It is a cumber-ground, 
 saith the Father; one year longer, prays the Son. 
 * Let it alone this year also. ’ 
 
 Till L shall dig about it, and dung it. 
 
 The Lord Jesus by these words supposeth two 
 things, as causes of the want of fruit in a bar¬ 
 ren fig-tree; and two things he supposeth as a 
 remedy. 
 
 The things that are a cause of want of fruit are, 
 First. It is earth-bound. Lord, the fig-tree js 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL 
 
 cai tli-bound. Second. A want of wfirmer mefins 
 of fatter means. Wherefore, accordingly, lie pro- 
 poundeth to loosen the earth; to dig about it. 
 And then to supply it with dung. 
 
 ‘To dig about it, and dung it. Lord, let it 
 alone this year also, until I shall dig about it.’ I 
 doubt it is too much ground-bound. The love of 
 this world, and the deceitfulness of riches lie too 
 close to the roots of the heart of this professor. 
 La. xiv. The love of riches, the love of honours, the 
 love of pleasures, are the thorns that choke the 
 v ord. For all that is in the world, the lust of 
 the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride 
 of life, is not of the Father,’ but enmity to God; 
 how then, where these things bind up the heart, 
 can there be fruit brought forth to God? un.iL 15,16. 
 Barien fig-tiee, see how the Lord Jesus, by these 
 very words, suggesteth the cause of thy fruitless¬ 
 ness of soul! The things of this world lie too 
 clo^e to thy heart; the earth with its things have 
 bound up thy roots; thou art an earth-bound soul, 
 thou art wrapped up in thick clay. ‘ If any man 
 loie the world, the love of the Father is not in 
 him, how then can he be fruitful in the vineyard? 
 this kept Judas from the fruit of caring for the 
 poor. Jn. xii. 6 . This kept Demas from the fruit of 
 self-denial. 2Ti. iv. 10 . And this kept Ananias and 
 Sapphira his wife from the goodly fruit of sincerity 
 and truth. Ac. v. 5,10. What shall I say? These 
 aie foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men 
 in destruction and perdition; for the love of money 
 is the root of all evil.’ How then can good fruit 
 grow from such a root, the root of all evil? 
 
 ‘ Which while some coveted after, they have erred 
 from the faith, and jiierced themselves through 
 with many sorrows. ’ 1 tl vi. 9 ,10, It is an evil root, 
 nay, it is the root of all evil. IIow then can the 
 piofessor that hath such a root, or a root wrapped 
 up in such earthly things, as the lusts, and plea¬ 
 sures, and vanities of this world, bring forth fruit 
 to God? 
 
 Till I shall * dig ’ about it. 
 
 Lord, I will loose his roots, I will dig up this 
 earth, I will lay his roots bare; my hand shall be 
 upon him by sickness, by disappointments, by 
 cross providences; I will dig about him until he 
 stands shaking and tottering; until he be ready to 
 fall; then, if ever, he will seek to take faster hold, 
 i-hus, 1 say, deals the Lord Jesus ofttimes with 
 tue barren professor; he diggeth about him, lie 
 smiteth one blow at his heart, another blow at his 
 lusts, a third at his pleasures, a fourth at his com¬ 
 forts, another at his self-conceitedness. Thus he 
 diggeth about him; this is the way to take bad 
 eai th fi 0111 his roots, and to loosen his roots from 
 the earth. Barren fig-tree, see here the care, the 
 love, the labour, and way, which the Lord Jesus, 
 
 OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 o i 0 
 
 the dresser of the vineyard, is fain to take with 
 thee, if haply thou mayest be made fruitful. 1 
 
 I ill I shall dig about it, and * dung ’ it. 
 
 As the earth, by binding the roots too closely, 
 may hinder the tree’s being fruitful, so the want 
 of better means may be also a cause thereof. And 
 this is more than intimated by the dresser of the 
 vineyard; ‘Till I shall dig about it and dung it.’ 
 I will supply it with a more fruitful ministry, with 
 a warmer word; I will give them pastors after 
 mine own heart; I will dung them. You know 
 dung is a more warm, more fat, more hearty, and 
 succouring matter than is commonly the place in 
 which trees are planted. 
 
 ‘ 1 wiI1 <% ahout it, and dung it.’ I will bring 
 it under a heart-awakening ministry; the means 
 of grace shall be fat and good: I will also visit it 
 with heart-awakening, heart-warming, heart-en¬ 
 couraging considerations; I will apply warm duno- 
 to his roots; I will strive with him by my Spirit^ 
 and give him some tastes of the heavenly gift, and 
 the power of the world to come. I am loth to lose 
 him for want of digging. ‘ Lord, let it alone this 
 }eai also, till I shall dig about it and dung it.’ 
 
 And if it bear fruit, well. 
 
 And if the fruit of all my labour doth make this 
 fig-tree fruitful, I shall count my time, my labour, 
 and means, well bestowed upon it; and thou also, 
 
 0 my God, slialt be therewith much delighted; for 
 thou art gracious, and merciful, and repentest thee 
 of the evil which thou threatenest to bring upon a 
 people. These words, therefore, inform us, that if 
 a barren fig-tree, a barren professor, shall now at 
 last bring forth fruit to God, it shall go well with 
 that proiessor, it shall go well with that poor soul. 
 IIis foimer barrenness, his former tempting of 
 God, his abuse of God’s patience and long-suffer¬ 
 ing, his mis-spending year after year, shall now be 
 all forgiven him. Yea, God the Father, and our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, will now pass by and forget all, 
 and say, ‘ Well done,’ at the last. When I say 
 to the wicked, 0 wicked man, thou shalt surely 
 die; if he then do that which is lawful and right, 
 if lie walk in the statutes of life, without commit¬ 
 ting iniquity, he shall surely live, he shall not die. 
 
 Eze. xxxiii 
 
 Barren ng-tree, dost thou hear? the axe is laid 
 to thy roots, the Lord Jesus prays God to sparo 
 thee. Hath he been digging about thee? Hath 
 he been dungiug of thee? 0 barren fig-tree, now 
 thou art come to the point; if thou shalt now be¬ 
 come good, if thou shalt, after a gracious manner, 
 
 1 Among the superstitions of the ancients, Michaelis states 
 that both the Greeks and Asiatics had a superstition that a 
 tree might be rendered fruitful by striking it, at. the interces¬ 
 sion ot a friend, three times with the back of an axe.—(E d.) 
 
576 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 suck in tlie gospel-dung, and if thou shalt bring 
 forth fruit unto God, well; hut if not, the fire is 
 the last! fruit, or the fire; fruit, or the fire, bar¬ 
 ren fig-tree! ‘ If it bear fruit, well. 
 
 And if not, then after that thou shalt cut it dovm. 
 
 The Lord Jesus, by this if, giveth us to under¬ 
 stand that there is a generation of professors^ 
 the world that are incurable, that will not, that 
 cannot repent, nor he profited by the means of 
 grace. A generation, I say, that will retain a 
 profession, hut will not bring forth fruit; a genera¬ 
 tion that will wear out the patience of God, time 
 and tide, threatenings and intercessions, judgments 
 and mercies, and after all will be unfruitful. 
 
 0 the desperate wickedness that is in thy heart. 
 Barren professor, dost thou hear? the Lord Jesus 
 stands yet in doubt about thee; there is an if 
 stands yet in the way. I say, the Lord Jesus 
 stands yet in doubt about thee, whether or no, at 
 last, thou wilt be good; whether he may not 
 labour in vain; whether his digging and dunging 
 will come to more than lost labour; ‘ I gave her 
 space to repent, - and she repented not. Re. ii. 21. 
 
 I digged about it, I dunged it; I gained time, and 
 supplied it with means; but I laboured herein in 
 vain, and spent my strength for nought, and in 
 vain! Dost thou hear, barren fig-tree? there is 
 yet a question, Whether it may be well with thy 
 soul at last ? 
 
 And if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down. 
 
 There is nothing more exasperating to the mind 
 of a man than to find all his kindness and favour 
 slighted; neither is the Lord Jesus so provoked 
 with anything, as when sinners abuse his means 
 of grace; if it be barren and fruitless under my 
 gospel; if it turn my grace into wantonness, if 
 after digging and dunging, and waiting, it yet re¬ 
 main unfruitful, I will let thee cut it down. 
 
 Gospel means, applied, is the last remedy for a 
 barren professor; if the gospel, if the grace of the 
 gospel, will not do, there can be nothing expected 
 but cut it down. * Then after that thou shalt cut 
 it down.’ ‘0 Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that 
 killest the prophets, and stonest them which are 
 sent unto thee, how often would 1 have gatheied 
 thy children together, even as a hen gatliereth her 
 chickens under her wings, and ye would not! 
 Therefore ‘your house is left unto you desolate. 
 Mat xxiii. 37, 38. Yet it cannot be, but that this 
 Lord Jesus, who at first did put a stop to the 
 execution of his Father’s justice, because he de- 
 
 1 However painfully unpleasant these terms may appear to 
 eyes or ears polite, it is a homely but just representation, and 
 calculated to make a lasting impression on every reader. Afflic¬ 
 tions, trials, crosses, are used as a means of creating or reviving 
 spiritual life, as manure is applied to vegetation.— (Ed.) 
 
 sired to try more means with the fig-tree; I say, 
 it cannot be, hut that a heart so full of compassion 
 as his is should be touched, to behold this pro¬ 
 fessor must now be cut down. ‘And when he was 
 come near, he beheld the city, and wept over it, 
 saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, at least 
 in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy 
 peace ! but now they are hid from thine eyes. 
 
 La. xix. 41, 42. 
 
 Afier that thou shalt cut it down . 
 
 When Christ giveth thee over, there is no inter¬ 
 cessor, no mediator, no more sacrifice for sin, all 
 is gone but judgment, but the axe, but a ‘certain 
 fearful looking for of judgment, and fiery ^indig¬ 
 nation, which shall devour the adversaries. He. x. 
 
 26, 27. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, take heed that thou comest not 
 to these last words, for these words are a give up, 
 a cast up, a cast up of a cast away; ‘After tha,t 
 thou shalt cut it down.’ They are as much as if 
 Christ had said, Father, 1 begged for more time 
 for this barren professor; I begged until I should 
 dig about it, and dung it. But now. Father, the 
 time is out, the year is ended, the summer is 
 ended, and no good done ! I have also ti ied with 
 my means, with the gospel, I have digged about 
 it; I have laid also the fat and hearty dung of 
 the gospel to it, but all comes to nothing. Fathei, 
 
 I deliver up this professor to thee again; I liav e 
 done; I have done all; I have done praying and 
 endeavouring; I will hold the head of thine axe 
 no longer. Take him into the hands of justice ; 
 do justice; do the law; I will never beg for him 
 more. ‘ After that thou shalt cut it down.’ ‘Woe 
 also to them when I depart from them! ’ Ho. ix. 12. 
 Now is this professor left naked indeed; naked to 
 God, naked to Satan, naked to sin, naked to the 
 law, naked to death, naked to hell, naked to 
 judgment, and naked to the gripes of a guilty 
 conscience, and to the torment of that woim that 
 never dies, and to that fire that never shall be 
 quenched. ‘See that ye refuse not him that 
 speaketh. For if they escaped not, who refused 
 him that spake on earth, much more shall not we 
 escape, if we turn away from him that speaketn 
 from heaven. ’ He. xii. 25. 
 
 From this brief pass through this paiable, you 
 have these two general observations :— First. That 
 even then when the justice of God cries out, I 
 cannot endure to wait on this barren professor any 
 longer, then Jesus Christ intercedes for a little 
 more patience, and a little more striving with this 
 professor, if possible he may make him a fruitful 
 professor. ‘ Lord, let it alone this year also, tiil 
 I shall dig about it, and dung it; and if it bear 
 fruit, well,’ Ac. Second . There are some profes¬ 
 sors whose day of grace will end with, Cut it down, 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF TIIE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 577 
 
 with judgment; when Christ, by his means, hath 
 been used for their salvation. 
 
 First. The first of these observations I shall 
 pass, and not meddle at all therewith; but shall 
 briefly speak to the 
 
 Second , to wit, that there are some professors 
 whose day of grace will end with, Cut it down, 
 with judgment, when Christ, by his means, hath 
 been used for their salvation. 
 
 This the apostle showeth in that third chapter of 
 his Epistle to the Hebrews, where he tells us that the 
 people of the Jews, after a forty years’ patience and 
 endeavour to do them good by the means appointed 
 for that purpose, their end was to be cut down, or 
 excluded the land of promise, for their final incre¬ 
 dulity. ‘ So we see that they could not enter in, 
 because of unbelief.’ ‘ Wherefore,’ saith lie, ‘ I 
 was grieved with that generation, and said, They do 
 alway err in their heart, and they have not known 
 my ways ; so I sware in my wrath, They shall not 
 enter into my rest.’ As who should say, I would 
 they should have entered in, and for that purpose 
 I brought them out of Egypt, led them through 
 the sea, and taught them in the wilderness, but 
 they did not answer my work nor designs in that 
 matter; wherefore they shall not, I swear they shall 
 not. ‘ I sware in my wrath, they shall not enter 
 into my rest.’ Here is cutting down with judg¬ 
 ment. So again, he saith, ‘ As I have sworn in my 
 wrath, if they shall enter into my rest; although 
 the works were finished from the foundation of the 
 world.’ He. iv. 4, 5. This word ‘if’ is the same with 
 ‘ they shall not,’ in the chapter before. And where 
 he saith, ‘ Although the works were finished from 
 the foundation of the world, ’ he giveth us to under¬ 
 stand that what preparations soever are made for 
 the salvation of sinners, and of how lono; continu- 
 ance soever they are, yet the God-tempting, God- 
 provoking and fruitless professor, is like to go 
 without a share therein, ‘ although the works were 
 finished from the foundation of the world.’ ‘I 
 will therefore put you in remembrance, though ye 
 once knew this, how that the Lord having saved 
 the people out of the land of Egypt, afterward de¬ 
 stroyed them that believed not. And the angels 
 that kept not their first estate, but left their own 
 habitation, he hath reserved in everlasting chains 
 under darkness, unto the judgment of the great 
 day.’ Jude 5,6. Here is an instance to purpose, an 
 instance of men and angels: men saved out of the 
 land of Egypt, and in their journey towards Canaan, 
 the type of heaven, cut down; angeb created and 
 placed in the heavens in great estate and princi¬ 
 pality ; yet both these, because unfruitful to God 
 in their places, were cut down—the men destroyed 
 by Cod, for so saith the text, and the ‘ angels re¬ 
 served in everlasting chains under darkness, unto 
 the judgment of the great day. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Now, in my handling of this point, I shall dis¬ 
 course of the cutting down, or the judgment here 
 denounced, as it 'respecteth the doing of it by 
 God’s hand immediately, and that too with respect 
 to his casting them out of the world, and not as it 
 respecteth an act of the church, &c. And as to this 
 cutting down, or judgment, it must be concluded, 
 that it cannot be before the day of grace bo past 
 with the fig-tree; but according to the observation, 
 there are some professors whose day of grace will 
 end with, Cut it down; and according to the words 
 of the text, ‘ Then,' after that, ‘ thou shalt cut it 
 down.’ ‘ After that,’ that is, after all my attempts 
 and endeavours to make it fruitful, after I have left 
 it, given it over, done with it, and have resolved to 
 bestow no more days of grace, opportunities of 
 grace, and means of grace upon it, then, ‘ after 
 that,’ thou shalt cut it down. 
 
 Besides, the giving up of the fig-tree is before 
 the execution. Execution is not always presently 
 upon the sentence given; for, after that, a conve¬ 
 nient time is thought on, and then is cutting 
 down. And so it is here in the text. The decree, 
 that he shall perish, is gathered from its continu¬ 
 ing fruitless quite through the last year—from its 
 continuing fruitless at the end of all endeavours. 
 But cutting down is not yet, for that comes with 
 an afterward. ‘ Then , after that, thou shalt cut it 
 down. ’ 
 
 So then, that I may orderly proceed with the 
 observation, I must lay down these two proposi¬ 
 tions:— Proposition First. That the day of grace 
 ends with some men before God takes them out 
 of this world. And, Proposition Second. The 
 death, or cutting down of such men, will be 
 dreadful. For this ‘Cut it down,’ when it is 
 understood in the largest sense, as here indeed 
 it ought, it showeth not only the wrath of God 
 against a man’s life in this world, but his wrath 
 against him, body and soul; and is as much 
 as to say, Cut him off from all the privileges 
 and benefits that come by grace, both in this 
 world and that which is to come. But to pro¬ 
 ceed: 
 
 Proposition First. —The day of grace ends 
 with some men before God taketh them out of the 
 world. I shall give you some instances of this, 
 and so go on to the last proposition. 
 
 First. I shall instance Cain. Cain was a pro¬ 
 fessor, a sacrificer, a worshipper of God, yea, the 
 first worshipper that we read of after the fall; but 
 his grapes were wild ones. His works were evil; 
 he did not do what he did from true gospel mo¬ 
 tives, therefore God disallowed his work. Ge. iv. 3-8. 
 At this his countenance falls, wherefore he envies 
 his brother, disputes him, takes his opportunity, 
 and kills him. Now, in that day that he did this 
 act were the heavens closed up against him, and 
 
 73 
 
578 
 
 THE BARREN EIG-TREE, OR 
 
 that himself did smartingly and fearfully feel when 
 God made inquisition for the blood of Abel. ‘ And 
 now art thou cursed,’ said God, ‘ from the earth ; 
 which hath opened her mouth to receive thy bro¬ 
 ther’s blood from thy hand,’ &c. ‘ And Cain said, 
 My punishment is greater than I can hear.’ Mine 
 iniquity is greater than that it may he forgiven. 
 
 ‘ Behold thou hast driven me out this day from the 
 face of the earth, and from thy face shall I he hid. 
 
 Ge. iv. 9-14. Now thou art cursed, saitli God. Thou 
 hast driven me out this day, saith Cain, and from 
 thy face shall I be hid. I shall never more have 
 hope in thee, smile from thee, nor expect mercy 
 at thy hand. Thus, therefore, Cain s da} 7, of grace 
 ended; and the heavens, with God’s own heart, 
 were shut up against him; yet after this he lived 
 long. Cutting down was not come yet; after this 
 he lived to marry a wife, to beget a cursed brood, 
 to build a city, and what else I know not; all 
 which could not be quickly done; wherefore Cain 
 might live after the day of grace was past with 
 him several hundred of years. Ge. iv. 10-17. 
 
 Second. I shall instance Ishmael. Ishmael was 
 a professor, was brought up in Abraham’s family, 
 and was circumcised at thirteen years of age. 
 Ge. xvi. 12 ; xvii. 25 , 26. But he was the son of the 
 bond-woman, he brought not forth good fruit; he 
 was a wild professor. Bor all his religion, he 
 would scoff at those that were better than himself. 
 Well, upon a day his brother Isaac was weaned, 
 at which time his father made a feast, and rejoiced 
 before the Lord, for that he had given him the 
 promised son; at this Ishmael mocked them, their 
 son, and godly rejoicing. Then came the Spirit of 
 God upon Sarah, and she cried, Cast him out, ‘ cast 
 out this bond-woman and her son; for the son of 
 this bond-woman shall not be heir with my son, 
 with Isaac.’ Ge. xxi. 9-11. Now Paul to the Gala¬ 
 tians makes this casting out to be, not only a 
 casting out of Abraham’s family, but a casting out 
 also from a lot with the saints in heaven. Ga. iv. 
 29-31. Also Moses givetli us a notable proof there¬ 
 of, in saying, that when he died he was gatherec 
 to his people—his people by his mother’s side ; for 
 he was reckoned from her, the son of Hagar, the 
 son of the bond-woman. Ge. xxv. 17. Now, she came 
 of the Egyptians, so that he was gathered when 
 he died, notwithstanding his profession, to the 
 place that Pharaoh and his host were gathered 
 to, who were drowned in the Red Sea; these were 
 his people, and he was of them, both by nature 
 and disposition, by persecuting as they did . 1 Ge. 
 xxi. 9 . But now, when did the day of grace end 
 with this man? Observe, and I will show you. 
 
 1 Mahomet professed descent from Ishmael, and that he 
 came to revive the religion which God had revealed to Abraham, 
 who taught it to Ishmael. Mahometanism is the religion of 
 the outcast of God.—(E d.) 
 
 Ishmael was thirteen years old when he was cir¬ 
 cumcised, and then was Abraham ninety years old 
 and nine. Ge. xvii. 24-26. The next year Isaac was 
 horn; so that Ishmael was now fourteen years of 
 age. Now, when Isaac was weaned, suppose he 
 sucked four years, by that account, the day of 
 grace must be ended with Ishmael by that time he 
 was eighteen years old. Ge. xxv. 12, &c. For that day 
 he mocked; that day it was said, ‘ Cast him out;’ 
 and of that casting out the apostle makes what I 
 have said. Beware, ye young barren professors! 
 Now, Ishmael lived a hundred and nineteen years 
 after this, in great tranquillity and honour with 
 men. After this he also begat twelve princes, even 
 after his day of grace was past. 
 
 Third. I shall instance Esau. Ge. xxv. 27, &e. 
 Esau also was a professor; he was born unto Isaac, 
 and circumcised according to the custom. But 
 Esau was a gamesome professor, a huntsman, a 
 man of the field; also he Avas wedded to his lusts, 
 which he did also venture to keep, rather than the 
 birthright. Well, upon a day, when he came from 
 hunting, and was faint, he sold his birthright to 
 Jacob, his brother.- Noav the birthright, in those 
 days, had the promise and blessing annexed to it. 
 Yea, they were so entailed in this, that the one 
 could not go Avithout the other; Avherefore the 
 apostle’s caution is here of weight. Take heed, 
 saith he, ‘ lest there be any fornicator, or pro¬ 
 fane person, as Esau, avIio for one morsel of meat 
 sold his birthright. For ye know Iioav that after- 
 Avard, when he Avould have inherited the blessing, 
 he was rejected; for he found no place of repent¬ 
 ance, though he sought it carefully Avith tears.’ 
 lie. xii. 16, 17 . Now, the ending of Esau’s day of 
 grace is to be reckoned from his selling of his 
 birthright; for there the apostle points it, lest 
 there be among you any that, like Esau, sells 
 his birthright: for then goes hence the blessing 
 also. 
 
 But Esau sold his birthright long before his 
 death. Twenty years after this Jacob was with 
 Laban, and Avhen he returned home, his brother 
 Esau met him. Ge. xxxi. 4 i; xxxii. 4 . Further, after 
 this, Avhen Jacob divelt again some time Avith his 
 father, then Jacob and Esau buried him. I sup¬ 
 pose he might live above forty, yea, for ought I 
 know, above fourscore years after he had sola his 
 birthright, and so consequently had put himself 
 out of the grace of God . 2 Ge. xxxv. 2 s, 29. 
 
 2 Bunyan had been haunted with the temptation ‘ to sell 
 and part with Christ,’ and, under a fear that he had fallen uuder 
 that temptation, the case of Esau made a dreadful impression 
 upon his soul; extreme horror and anguish seized upon his 
 spirit; ‘he was like a man bereft of life and bound over to 
 eternal punishment,’ for two years. At length, after an awful 
 storm, he found peace in the promise, ‘his blood cleanseth from 
 alt. sins,’ and a proof that he had not sold Christ.—See Grace 
 I Abounding, No. 139—160. 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 579 
 
 Three things I would further note upon these 
 three professors. 
 
 1 . Cain, an angry professor; Ishmael, a mocking 
 one; Esau, a lustful, gamesome one. Three symp¬ 
 toms of a barren professor; for he that can be angry, 
 and that can mock, and that can indulge his lusts, 
 cannot bring forth fruit to God. 
 
 2 . The day of grace ended with these professors 
 at that time when they committed some grievous 
 sin. Cain’s, when he killed his brother; Ishmael’s, 
 when he mocked at Isaac; and Esau’s, when, out 
 of love to his lusts, he despised and sold his birth¬ 
 right. Beware, barren professor! thou mayest do 
 that in half a quarter ot an hour, from the evil of 
 which thou mayest not be delivered for ever and 
 ever. 1 
 
 3 . Yet these three, after their day of grace was 
 over, lived better lives, as to outward things, than 
 ever they did before. Cain, after this, was lord 
 of a city. Ge. iv. it. Ishmael was, after this, father 
 of twelve princes. Ge. xxv. 16. And Esau, after this, 
 told his brother, ‘I have enough, my brother, keep 
 that thou bast unto thyself. Ge. xxxiii. 8 ,9. Ease and 
 peace, and a prosperous life in outwards, is no sign 
 of the favour of God to a barren and fruitless pro¬ 
 fessor, but rather of his wrath ; that thereby he 
 may be capable to treasure up more wrath against 
 the day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous 
 judgment of God. Let this much serve for the 
 proof of the first proposition, namely, That the day 
 of grace ends with some men before God takes 
 them out of this world. 
 
 SIGNS OF BEING PAST GRACE, 
 
 Now, then, to show you, by some signs, how 
 you may know that the day of grace is ended, cr 
 near to ending, with the barren professor; and 
 after that thou shalt cut it down. He that hath 
 stood it out against God, and that hath withstood 
 all those means for fruit that God hath used for 
 the making of him, if it might have been, a fruitful 
 tree in his garden, he is in this danger; and this 
 indeed is the sum of the parable. The fig-tree 
 here mentioned Avas blessed Avith the application of 
 means, had time alloAved it to receive the nourish¬ 
 ment ; but it outstood, Avithstood, overstood all, 
 all that the husbandman did, all that the vine¬ 
 dresser did. 
 
 But a little distinctly to particularize in four or 
 five particulars. 
 
 First sign. The day of grace is like to be past, 
 Avhen a professor hath Avithstood, abused, and 
 Avorn out Gods patience, then he is in danger; 
 this is a provocation; then God cries, ‘Cut it down.’ 
 
 1 How solemn a thought I What an appeal to perpetual 
 watchfulness.. Why have I not made shipwreck of faith? 
 M« st emphatically may we reply. Because God has sustained 
 my soul.—(E d.) 
 
 There are some men that steal into a profession, 
 nobody knoAvs how, even as this fig-tree Avas brought 
 into the vineyard by other hands than God’s; and 
 there they abide lifeless, graceless, careless, and 
 without any good conscience to God at all. Perhaps 
 they came in for the loaves, for a trade, for credit, for 
 a blind; or it may be to stifle and choke the checks 
 and grinding pangs of an aAvakened and disquieted 
 conscience. Now, having obtained their purpose, 
 like the sinners of Sion, they are at ease and secure; 
 saying like Agag, ‘ Surely the bitterness of death 
 is past,’ isa. xv. 22; I am well, shall be saved, and 
 go to heaven. Thus in these vain conceits they 
 spend a year, two, or three; not remembering that 
 at every season of grace, and at every opportunity 
 of the gospel the Lord comes seeking fruit. Well, 
 sinner, Avell, barren fig-tree, this is but a coarse 
 beginning; God comes for fruit. 
 
 1 . What have I here? saith God; Avhat a fig- 
 tree is this, that hath stood this year in my vine¬ 
 yard, and brought me forth no fruit? I will cry 
 unto him, Professor, barren fig-tree, be fruitful! 
 I look for fruit, I expect fruit, I must have fruit; 
 therefore bethink tbyself! At these the professor 
 pauses; but these are words, not bloAvs, therefore 
 off goes this consideration from the heart. When 
 God comes the next year, he finds him still as he 
 was, a barren, fruitless cumber-ground. And iioav 
 again he complains, here are two years gone, and 
 no fruit appears; well, I will defer mine anger. 
 
 ‘ For my name sake will I defer mine anger, and 
 for my praise will I refrain for thee, that I cut 
 thee not off,’ as yet. is. xiviii. 9. I will Avait, I will 
 yet Avait to be gracious. But this helps not, this 
 hath not the least influence upon the barren fig-tree. 
 Tush, saith he, here is no threatening: God is 
 merciful, he will defer his anger, he Avaits to bo 
 gracious, I am not yet afraid. Is. xxx. 18. 0 ! b.OAV 
 
 ungodly men, that are at unawares crept into the 
 vineyard, Iioav do they turn the grace of our God 
 into lasciviousness! Well, he comes the third year 
 for fruit, as he did before, but still he finds but a 
 barren fig-tree; no fruit. Now, he cries out again, 
 0 thou dresser of my vineyard, come hither; here 
 is a fig-tree hath stood these three years in my 
 vineyard, and hath at every season disappointed 
 my expectation; for I have looked for fruit in vain; 
 ‘Cut it doAvn,’ my patience is Avorn out, I shall 
 Avait on this fig-tree no longer. 
 
 2 . And iioav he begins to shake the fig-tree 
 with his threatenings: Fetch out the axe! Noav 
 the axe is death; death therefore is called for. 
 Death, come smite me this fig-tree. And Avithal 
 the Lord shakes this sinner, and Avhirls him upon 
 a sick-bed, saying, Take him, death, he hath 
 abused my patience and forbearance, not remem¬ 
 bering that it should have led him to repentance, 
 and to the fruits thereof. Death, fetch away this 
 
580 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 fig-tree to the fire, fetch this barren professor to 
 hell! At this death comes with grim looks into 
 the chamber; yea, and hell follows with him to 
 the bedside, and both stare this professor in the 
 face, yea, begin to lay hands upon him; one 
 smiting him with pains in his body, with head¬ 
 ache, heart-ache, back-ache, shortness of breath, 
 fainting, qualms, trembling of joints, stopping ‘at 
 the chest, and almost all the symptoms of a man 
 past all recovery. Now, while death is thus tor¬ 
 menting the body, hell is doing with the mind and 
 conscience, striking them with its pains, casting 
 sparks of fire in thither, wounding with sorrows, 
 and fears of everlasting damnation, the spirit of 
 this poor creature. 1 And now he begins to bethink 
 himself, and to cry to God for mercy; Lord, spare 
 me! Lord, spare me! Nay, saith God, you have 
 been a provocation to me these three years. How 
 many times have you disappointed me ? How many 
 seasons have you spent in vain? How many ser¬ 
 mons and other mercies did I, of my patience, 
 afford you? but to no purpose at all. Take him, 
 death! 0! good Lord, saith the sinner, spare 
 me but this once; raise me but this once. Indeed 
 I have been a barren professor, and have stood to 
 no purpose at all in thy vineyard; but spare! 0 
 spare this one time, I beseech thee, and I will be 
 better! Away, away you will not; I have tried 
 you these three years already; you are naught; 
 if I should recover you again, you would be as 
 bad as you were before. And all this talk is while 
 death stands by. The sinner cries again, Good 
 Lord, try me this once; let me get up again this 
 once, and see if I do not mend. But will you pro¬ 
 mise me to mend? Yes, indeed, Lord, and vow it 
 too; I will never be so bad again; I will be better. 
 Well, saith God, death, let this professor alone for 
 this time ; 1 will try him a while longer; he hath 
 promised, he hath vowed, that he will amend his 
 ways. It may be he will mind to keep his pro¬ 
 mises. Vows are solemn things; it maybe he 
 may fear to break his vows. Arise from off thy 
 bed. And now God lays down his axe. At this 
 the poor creature is very thankful, praises God, 
 and fawns upon him, shows as if he did it heartily, 
 and calls to others to thank him too. He there¬ 
 fore riseth, as one would think, to be a new crea¬ 
 ture indeed. But by that he hath put on his 
 clothes, is come down from his bed, and ventured 
 into the yard or shop, and there sees how all 
 things are gone to sixes and sevens, he begins to 
 have second thoughts, and says to his folks, What 
 
 1 Bunyan’s tongue and pen are here fired by his vivid ima¬ 
 gination of eternal realities. With such burning words, we 
 need no messenger from the invisible world to alarm the con¬ 
 sciences of sinners. What angel could arouse more powerfully, 
 alarmingly, convincingly, the poor sinner, than the whole of 
 this chain of reasoning.—(E d.) 
 
 have you all been doing? How are all things out 
 of order? I am I cannot tell what behind hand. 
 One may see, if a man be but a little a to side, 
 that you have neither wisdom nor prudence to order 
 things. 2 And now, instead of seeking to spend 
 the rest of his time to God, he doubleth his dili¬ 
 gence after this world. Alas! all must not be 
 lost; we must have provident care. And thus, 
 quite forgetting the sorrows of death, the pains of 
 hell, the promises and vows which he made to God 
 to be better; because judgment was not now 
 speedily executed, therefore the heart of this poor 
 creature is fully set in him to do evil. 
 
 3. These things proving ineffectual, God takes 
 hold of his axe again, sends death to a wife, to a 
 child, to his cattle, ‘Your young men have I slain, 
 
 - and taken away your horses.’ Am. iv. 9 , io. I will 
 blast him, cross him, disappoint him, and cast him 
 down, and will set myself against him in all that 
 he putteth his hand unto. At this the poor barren 
 professor cries out again, Lord, I have sinned; 
 spare me once more, I beseech thee. 0 take not 
 away the desire of mine eyes; spare my children, 
 bless me in my labours, and I will mend and be 
 better. No, saith God, you lied to me last time, 
 I will trust you in this no longer; and withal he 
 tumbletli the wife, the child, the estate into a grave. 
 And then returns to his place, till this professor 
 more unfeignedly acknowledgeth his offence. Ho. 
 v. 14 , 15 . 
 
 At this the poor creature is afflicted and dis¬ 
 tressed, rends his clothes, and begins to call the 
 breaking of his promise and vows to mind; he 
 mourns and prays, and like Ahab, awhile walks 
 softly at the remembrance of the justness of the 
 hand of God upon him. And now he renews his 
 promises; Lord, try me this one time more; take 
 off thy hand and see; they go far that never turn. 
 Well, God spareth him again, sets down his axe 
 again. ‘Many times he did deliver them, but 
 they provoked him with their counsel, and were 
 brought low for their iniquity.’ Ps. cvi. 43. Now they 
 seem to be thankful again, and are as if they were 
 resolved to be godly indeed. Now they read, they 
 pray, they go to meetings, and seem to be serious 
 a pretty while, but at last they forget. Their lusts 
 prick them, suitable temptations present them¬ 
 selves ; wherefore they turn to their own crooked 
 ways again. ‘ When he slew them, then they 
 sought him, and they returned and inquired early 
 after God;’ ‘nevertheless they did flatter him with 
 
 2 This picture is drawn by a master hand: the master is laid 
 by for a season; or, as Bunyan quaintly expresses it, ‘ a little 
 a to side:’ when raised from affliction earthly affairs absorb his 
 attention, and he forgets his good resolves. According to the 
 old rhyme:— 
 
 ‘ The devil was sick, the devil a saint would be 
 The devil got well, the devil a saiut was he.’—E d. 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 581 
 
 their mouth, and they lied unto him with their 
 tongue. ’ rs. lxxvffi. 34 - 36 . 
 
 4 . Yet again, the Lord will not leave this pro¬ 
 fessor, but will take up his axe again, and will put 
 him under a more heart-searching ministry, a 
 ministry that shall search him, and turn him over 
 and over; a ministry that shall meet with him, as 
 Elijah met with Ahab, in all his acts of wicked¬ 
 ness, and now the axe is laid to the roots of the 
 trees. Besides, this ministry doth not only search 
 the heart, but presenteth the sinner with the golden 
 rays of the glorious gospel; now is Christ Jesus 
 set forth evidently, now is grace displayed sweetly; 
 now, now are the promises broken like boxes of 
 ointment, to the perfuming of the whole room! 
 But, alas! there is yet no fruit on this fig-tree. 
 W liile his heart is searching, lie wrangles; while 
 the glorious grace of the gospel is unveiling, this 
 professor wags and is wanton, gathers up some 
 scraps thereof; ‘ Tastes the good Word of God, 
 and the powers of the world to come ;’ «drinketh 
 in the rain that cometh oft upon him. ’ He. vi. 3 - 8 . 
 Jude 4. But bringeth not forth fruit meet for him 
 whose gospel it is ; ‘ Takes no heed to walk in the 
 Iuav of the Lord God of Israel with all his heart.’ 
 2 Ki. x. 3i. But counteth that the glory of the gospel 
 consistetli in talk and show, and that our obedience 
 thereto is a matter of speculation; that good works 
 lie in good words ; and if they can finely talk, they 
 think they bravely please God. Theythink the king¬ 
 dom of God consistetli only in word, not in power; 
 and thus proveth ineffectual this fourth means also. 
 
 5 . Well, now the axe begins to be heaved higher, 
 for now indeed God is ready to smite the sinner; 
 yet before he will strike the stroke, he will try one 
 way more at the last, and if that misseth, down 
 goes the fig-tree ! Now this last way is to tug and 
 strive with this professor by his Spirit. Where¬ 
 fore the Spirit of the Lord is now come to him; but 
 not always to strive with man. Ge.vi.3. Yet a while 
 he will strive with him, he will awaken, he will 
 convince, he will call to remembrance former sins, 
 former judgments, the breach of former vows and 
 promises, the misspending of former days ; he will 
 also present persuasive arguments, encouraging 
 promises, dreadful judgments, the shortness of time 
 to repent in ; and that there is hope if he come, 
 i urther, he will show him the certainty of death, 
 and of the judgment to come; yea, he will pull and 
 strive with this sinner; but, behold, the mischief 
 now lies here, here is tugging and striving on both 
 sides. The Spirit convinces, the man turns a deaf 
 ear to God; the Spirit saith, Receive my instruc¬ 
 tion and live, but the man pulls away his shoulder; 
 the Spirit shows him whither he is going, but the 
 man closeth his eyes against it; the Spirit offereth 
 violence, the man strives and resists; they have 
 ‘done despite unto the Spirit of grace.’ He. x. 29 . 
 
 The Spirit parlieth a second time, and urgeth 
 reasons of a new nature, but the sinner answereth, 
 No, I have loved strangers, and after them I will 
 go. Am. iv. 6-12. At this God’s fury comes up into 
 his face: now he comes out of his holy place, and 
 is terrible; now he sweareth in his wrath they shall 
 never enter into his rest. He. in. n. I exercised to¬ 
 wards you my patience, yet you have not turned 
 unto me, saith the Lord. I smote you in your per¬ 
 son, in your relations, in your estate, yet you have 
 not returned unto me, saith the Lord. ‘ In thy 
 filthiness is lewdness, because I have purged thee, 
 and thou wast not purged; thou shalt not be purged 
 from thy filthiness any more, till I cause my fury 
 to rest upon thee.’ Eze. xxiv. 13. ‘ Cut it down, why 
 
 doth it cumber the ground V 
 
 The second sign. That such a professor is almost, 
 if not quite, past grace, is, when God hath given 
 him over, or lets him alone, and suffers him to do 
 anything, and that without control, helpeth him 
 not either in works of holiness, or in straits and 
 difficulties. ‘ Ephraim is joined to idols; let him 
 alone.’ Ho. iv. 17 . Woe be to them when I depart 
 from them. I will laugh at their calamities, and 
 will mock when their fear cometh. rr. i. 24-29. 
 
 Barren fig-tree, thou hast heretofore been digged 
 about, and dunged; God’s mattock hath heretofore 
 been at thy roots; gospel-dung hath heretofore been 
 applied to thee; thou hast heretofore been strove 
 Avith, convinced, awakened, made to taste and see, 
 and cry, 0 the blessedness ! Thou hast heretofore 
 been met with under the word; thy heart hath 
 melted, thy spirit hath fallen, thy soul hath 
 trembled, and thou hast felt something of the power 
 of the gospel. But thou hast sinned, thou hast 
 provoked the eyes of his glory, thy iniquity is found 
 to be hateful, and now perhaps God hath left thee, 
 given thee up, and lets thee alone. Heretofore 
 thou wast tender; thy conscience startled at the 
 temptation to wickedness, for thou wert taken off 
 from ‘ the pollutions of the world, through the 
 knowledge of the Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.’ 
 2 Pe. ii. 20-22. But that very vomit that once thou 
 wert turned from, now thou lappest up—with the 
 dog in the proverb—again; and that very mire that 
 once thou seemedst to be washed from, in that very 
 mire thou now art tumbling afresh. But to parti¬ 
 cularize, there are three signs of a man’s being given 
 over of God. 
 
 1 . When he is let alone in sinning, when the 
 reins of his lusts are loosed, and he given up to 
 them. ‘ And even as they did not like to retain 
 God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a 
 reprobate mind, to do those things which are not 
 convenient: being filled with all unrighteousness. ’ 
 Ro. i. 28,29. Seest thou a man that heretofore had 
 the knowledge of God, and that had some awe of 
 Majesty upon him: I say, seest thou such an 0110 
 
533 
 
 THE BARREN FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 sporting himself in his own deceivings, turning the 
 grace of our God into lasciviousness, and walking 
 after his own ungodly lusts? Ro.i.30,31. His ‘judg¬ 
 ment now of a long time lingereth not, and his 
 damnation slumbereth not.’ 2 Fe. ii. 13. Dost thou 
 hear, barren professor ? It is astonishing to see 
 how those that once seemed ‘sons of the morning,’ 
 and were making preparations for eternal life, 
 now at last, for the rottenness of their hearts, by 
 the just judgment of God, to be permitted, being 
 past feeling, to give ‘ themselves over unto lascivi¬ 
 ousness, to work all uncleanness with greediness.’ 
 Ep. iv. is, 19. A great number of such were in the 
 first gospel-days; against whom Peter, and Jude, 
 and John, pronounce the heavy judgment of God. 
 Peter and Jude couple them with the fallen angels, 
 and John forbids that prayer be made for them, 
 because that is happened unto them that hath 
 happened to the fallen angels that fell, who, for 
 forsaking their first state, and for leaving ‘their 
 own habitation,’ are ‘reserved in everlasting 
 chains under darkness, unto the judgment of the 
 great day.’ Jude5, 6 . 2Pe.ii.3-8. Barren fig-tree, dost 
 thou hear ? ( 1 .) These are beyond all mercy ! 
 
 ( 2 .) These are beyond all promises ! ( 3 .) These 
 are beyond all hopes of repentance ! ( 4 .) These 
 have no intercessor, nor any more share in a sacri¬ 
 fice for sin ! ( 5 .) For these there remains nothing 
 
 but a fearful looking for of judgment! ( 6 .) Where¬ 
 fore these are the true fugitives and vagabonds, 
 that being left of God, of Christ, of grace, and of 
 the promise, and being beyond all hope, wander 
 and straggle to and fro, even as the devil, their 
 associate, until their time shall come to die, or 
 until they descend in battle and perish ! 
 
 2 . Wherefore they are let alone in hearing. If 
 these at any time come under the word, there is 
 for them no God, no savour of the means of grace, 
 no stirrings of heart, no pity for themselves, no 
 love to their own salvation. Let them look on this 
 hand or that, there they see such effects of the 
 word in others as produceth signs of repentance, 
 and love to God and his Christ. These men only 
 have their backs bowed down alway. Ro. xi. 10. These 
 men only have the spirit of slumber, eyes that they 
 should not see, and ears that they should not hear, 
 to this very day. Wherefore as they go to the 
 place of the Holy, so they come from the place of 
 the Holy, and soon are forgotten in the places 
 where they so did. Ec. viii. 10. Only they reap this 
 damage, ‘They treasure up wrath against the 
 day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous 
 judgment of God.’ Ro. ii. 3-5. Look to it, barren 
 professor! 
 
 3 . If he be visited after the common way of 
 mankind, either with sickness, distress, or any 
 kind of calamity, still no God appeareth, no sanc¬ 
 tifying hand of God, no special mercy is mixed 
 
 with the affliction. But he falls sick, and grows 
 well, like the beast; or is under distress, as Saul, 
 who when he was engaged by the Philistines was 
 forsaken and left of God, ‘And the Philistines 
 gathered themselves together, and came and 
 pitched in Shunem, and Saul gathered all Israel 
 together, and they pitched in Gilboa. And when 
 Saul saw the host of the Philistines he was afraid, 
 and his heart greatly trembled. And when Saul 
 inquired of the Lord, the Lord answered him not, 
 neither by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by prophets.’ 
 
 ] Sa. xxviii. 4—6. The Lord answered him no more; 
 he had done with him, cast him off, and rejected 
 him, and left him to stand and fall with his sins, 
 by himself. But of this more in the conclusion: 
 therefore I here forbear. 
 
 4 . These men may go whither they will, do what 
 they will; they may range from opinion to opinion, 
 from notion to notion, from sect to sect, but are 
 steadfast nowhere; they are left to their own un¬ 
 certainties, they have not grace to establish their 
 hearts; and though some of them have boasted 
 themselves of this liberty, yet Jude calls them 
 ‘ wandering stars, to whom is reserved the black- 
 ness of darkness for ever.’ Jude is. They are left, 
 as I told you before, to be fugitives and vagabonds 
 in the earth, to wander everywhere, but to abide 
 nowhere, until they shall descend to their own 
 place, with Cain and Judas, men of the same fate 
 with themselves. Ac. i. 25. 
 
 A third sign that such a professor is quite past 
 grace is, when his heart is grown so hard, so stony, 
 and impenetrable, that nothing will pierce it. 
 Barren fig-tree, dost thou consider ? a hard and 
 impenitent heart is the curse of God ! A heart 
 that cannot repent, is instead of all plagues at 
 once; and hence it is that God said of Pharaoh, 
 when he spake of delivering him up in the great¬ 
 ness of his anger, ‘ I will at this time,’ saitii 
 he, ‘send all my plagues upon thine heart.’ Ex. 
 ix. 14 . 
 
 To some men that have grievously sinned under 
 a profession of the gospel, God givetli this token 
 of his displeasure; they are denied the power of 
 repentance, their heart is bound, they cannot re¬ 
 pent ; it is impossible that they should ever repent, 
 should they live a thousand years. It is impos¬ 
 sible for those fall-aways to be renewed again unto 
 repentance, ‘ seeing they crucify to themselves the 
 Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame.’ 
 He. vi. 4 - 6 . Now, to have the heart so hardened, 
 so judicially hardened, this is as a bar put in by 
 the Lord God against the salvation of this sinner. 
 This was the burden of Spira’s complaint, ‘ I can¬ 
 not do it! 0 ! now I cannot do it! ’ 1 
 
 1 This is referred to in the Pilgrim, at the Interpreter's 
 house, by the representation of a man in an iron cage, who 
 says, * I cannot get out, 0 now I cannot 1’ The awful account 
 
THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE FRUITLESS PROFESSOR. 
 
 583 
 
 This man secs what ho hath done, what should 
 help him, and what will become of him; yet he 
 cannot repent; he pulled away his shoulder before, 
 lie stopped his ears before, he shut up his eyes 
 before, and in that very posture God left him, and 
 so he stands to this very day. I have had a fancy, 
 that Lot s wife, when she was turned into a pillar 
 of salt, stood yet looking over her shoulder, or 
 else with her face towards Sodom; as the judg¬ 
 ment caught her, so it bound her, and left her a 
 monument of God’s anger to after generations. 
 
 Ge. xix. 26 . 
 
 YV e read of some that are seared with a hot iron, 
 and that are past feeling; for so seared persons in 
 seared parts are. Their conscience is seared. 1 Ti. 
 iv. 2. r Ihe conscience is the thing that must be 
 touched with feeling, fear, and remorse, if ever any 
 good be done with the sinner. ITow then can any 
 good be done to those whose conscience is worse 
 than that? that is, fast asleep in sin. Ep. iv. 19. For 
 that conscience that is fast asleep, may yet be 
 effectually awakened and saved; but that con¬ 
 science that is seared, dried, as it were, into a 
 cinder, can never have sense, feeling, or the least 
 regret in this world. Barren fig-tree, hearken, 
 judicial hardening is dreadful! There is a differ¬ 
 ence betwixt that hardness of heart that is incident 
 to all men, and that which comes upon some as a 
 signal or special judgment of God. And although 
 all kinds of hardness of heart, in some sense may 
 be called a judgment, yet to be hardened with 
 this second kind* is a judgment peculiar only to 
 them that perish ; a hardness that is sent as a 
 punishment for the abuse of light received, for a 
 reward of apostacy. This judicial hardness is 
 discovered from that which is incident to all men, 
 in these particulars :— 
 
 1 . It is a hardness that comes after some great 
 light received, because of some great sin com¬ 
 mitted against that light, and the grace that gave 
 it. Such hardness as Pharaoh had, after the Lord 
 had wrought wondrously before him; such hard¬ 
 ness as the Gentiles had, a hardness which dark¬ 
 ened the heart, a hardness which made their 
 minds reprobate. This hardness is also the same 
 with that the Hebrews are cautioned to beware of, 
 a hardness that is caused by unbelief, and a de- 
 
 of Spira’s despair must have made a strong impression upon 
 Runyan’s mind. It commences with a poem. 
 
 ‘Here see a soul that’s all despair; a man 
 Ail hell; a spirit all wounds; who can 
 A wounded spirit bear? 
 
 Reader, would’st see, what may you never feel 
 Despair, racks, torments, whips of burning steel 1 
 Behold, the man’s tiie furnace, in whose heart 
 Sin hath created hell; O in each part 
 What flames appear: 
 
 His thoughts all stings; words, swords: 
 
 Brimstone his breath; 
 
 Ilis eyes flames; wishes curses, life a death; 
 
 A thousand deaths live in him, lie not dead; 
 
 A breathing corpse in living, scalding lead.’ 
 
 —Feaifxd Estate of Francis Sj,ira.—{ Ed.) 
 
 parting from the living God; a hardness completed 
 through the deceitfulness of sin. He. m. 7, Ac. Such 
 as that in the provocation, of whom God sware, 
 that they should not enter into his rest. It was 
 this kind of hardness also, that both Cain, and 
 Ishmael, and Esau, were hardened with, after 
 they had committed their great transgressions. 
 
 2 . It is the greatest kind of hardness; and 
 hence they are said to be harder than a rock, or 
 than an adamant, that is, harder than flint: so 
 hard, that nothing can enter. Je. v. 3. Zee. vii. 12. 
 
 3 . It is a hardness given in much anger, and 
 that to bind the soul up in an impossibility of re¬ 
 pentance. 
 
 4 . It is a hardness, therefore, w r hich is incurable, 
 of which a man must die and be damned. Barren 
 professor, hearken to this. 
 
 A fourth sign that such a professor is quite past 
 grace, is, when he fortifies his hard heart against 
 the tenor of God’s word. Job ix. 4 , Ac. This is called 
 hardening themselves against God, and turning of 
 the Spirit against them. As thus, when after a 
 profession of faith in the Lord Jesus, and of the 
 doctrine that is according to godliness, they shall 
 embolden themselves in courses of sin, by promis¬ 
 ing themselves that they shall have life and salva¬ 
 tion notwithstanding. Barren professor, hearken 
 to this ! This man is called, ‘a root that beareth 
 gall and wormwood,’ or a poisonful herb, such ari 
 one as is abominated of God, yea, the abhorred of 
 his soul. For this man saith, ‘I shall have peace, 
 though I walk in the imagination ’ or stubborn¬ 
 ness ‘of mine heart, to add drunkenness to thirst; ’ 
 an opinion flat against the whole Word of God, 
 yea, against the very nature of God himself. 
 De. xxix. is, 19 . Wherefore he adds, ‘ Then the ano-er 
 of the Lord, and his jealousy, shall smoke against 
 that man, and all the curses that are written in 
 God’s book shall lie upon him, and the Lord shall 
 blot out his name from under heaven.’ De. xix. 20. 
 
 Yea, that man shall not fail to be effectually de¬ 
 stroyed, saith the text: ‘The Lord shall separate 
 that man unto evil, out of all the tribes of Israel, 
 according to all the curses of the covenant.’ De. xix. 
 21. He shall separate him unto evil; he shall give 
 him up, he shall leave him to his heart; he shall 
 separate him to that or those that will assuredly bo 
 too hard for him. 
 
 Now this judgment is much effected w r hen God 
 hath given a man up unto Satan, and hath given 
 Satan leave, without fail, to complete his destruc¬ 
 tion. I say, when God hath given Satan leave 
 effectually to complete his destruction ; for all that 
 are delivered up unto Satan have not, nor do not 
 come to this end. But that is the man whom God 
 shall separate to evil, and shall leave in the hands 
 of Satan, to complete, without fail, his destruction. 
 
 Thus he served Ahab, a man that sold himself 
 

 58 4 TIIE BARREN 
 
 to work wickedness in the sight of the Lord. ‘And 
 the Lord said, Who shall persuade Ahab, that he 
 may go up and fall at Ramoth-Gilead? And one 
 said on this manner, and another said on that man¬ 
 ner. And there came forth a spirit, and stood before 
 the Lord, and said, I will persuade him. And the 
 Lord said unto him, Wherewith? And he said, I 
 will go forth, and be a lying spirit in the mouth of 
 all his prophets. And he said, Thou shalt persuade 
 him , and prevail also ; go forth, and do so. 1 Ki. 
 xxi. 25; xxii. 20-22. Thou shalt persuade him, and 
 prevail; do thy will, I leave him in thy hand, go 
 forth, and do so. 
 
 Wherefore, in these judgments the Lord doth 
 much concern himself for the management thereof, 
 because of the provocation wherewith they have 
 provoked him. This is the man wdiose ruin con- 
 triveth, and bringeth to pass by his own contriv¬ 
 ance : ‘I also will choose their delusions for them; 
 
 ‘ I will bring their fears upon them.’ Is. lxvi. 4. I 
 will choose their devices, or the Avickednesses that 
 their hearts are contriving of. I, even I, 'will cause 
 them to be accepted of, and delightful to them. 
 But who are they that must thus be feared? Why, 
 those among professors that have chosen their own 
 Avays, those Avhose soul delighteth in their abomina¬ 
 tions. Because they received not the love of the 
 truth, that they might be saved: for this cause God 
 shall send them strong delusions, that they should 
 believe a lie, that they all might be damned, who 
 believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unright¬ 
 eousness. 
 
 ‘ God shall send them.* It is a great Avord! 
 Yea, God shall send them strong delusions; delu¬ 
 sions that shall do: that shall make them believe 
 a lie. Why so ? ‘ That they all might be damned,’ 
 every one of them, ‘ avIio believed not the truth, but 
 had pleasure in unrighteousness.’ 2 Thes. ii. 10-12. 
 
 There is nothing more provoking to the Lord, 
 than for a man to promise Avhen God threateneth; 
 for a man to be light of conceit that he shall be safe, 
 and yet to be more wicked than in former days, 
 this man’s soul abhorreth the truth of God; no 
 marvel, therefore, if God’s soul abhorreth him ; he 
 hath invented a Avay contrary to God, to bring 
 about his own salvation; no marvel, therefore, if 
 God invent a Avay to bring about this man s damna¬ 
 tion: and seeing that these rebels are at this point, 
 Ave shall have peace ; God will see whose word will 
 stand, his or theirs. 
 
 A fifth sign of a man being past grace is, when 
 he shall at this scoff, and inwardly grin and fret 
 against the Lord, secretly purposing to continue his 
 course, and put all to the venture, despising the 
 messengers of the Lord. ‘ He that despised Moses 
 laAv, died Avithout mercy; - of how much sorer pun¬ 
 ishment, suppose ye, shall he be thought worthy, 
 who hath trodden under foot the Son of God?’ &c., 
 
 FIG-TREE, OR 
 
 He. x. 28. Wherefore, against these despisers God 
 hath set himself, and foretold that they shall not 
 believe, but perish: ‘Behold, ye despisers, and 
 Avonder, and perish: for I work a work in your 
 days, a work Avhich ye shall in nowise believe, 
 though a man declare it unto you.’ Ac.xiii. 4 i. 
 
 Afiler that thou shalt cut it dozen. 
 
 Thus far Ave have treated of the barren fig-tree, 
 or fruitless professor, Avith some signs to knoiv him 
 by; whereto is added also some signs of one who 
 neither Avill nor can, by any means, be fruitful, but 
 they must miserably perish. How, being come to 
 the time of execution, 1 shall speak a word to that 
 also; ‘ After that thou shalt cut it down.’ 
 
 [Proposition Second. The death or cutting 
 doAvn of such men will be dreadful.] 
 
 Christ, at last, turns the barren fig-tree over to 
 the justice of God, shakes his hands of him, and 
 gives him up to the fire for his unprofitableness. 
 ‘After that thou shalt cut it down. 
 
 Two things are here to be considered: 
 
 First. The executioner ; thou, the great, the 
 dreadful, the eternal God. These Avords, therefore, 
 as 1 have already said, signify that Christ the 
 Mediator, through whom alone salvation comes, 
 and by whom alone execution hath been deferred, 
 now giveth up the soul, forbears to speak one syl¬ 
 lable more for him, or to do the least act of grace 
 further, to try for his recovery; but delivereth him 
 up to that fearful dispensation, ‘ to fall into the 
 hands of the living God.’ He. x. 31 . 
 
 Second. The second to be considered is. The in¬ 
 strument by which this execution is done, and that 
 is death, compared here to an axe; and forasmuch 
 as the tree is not felled at one bloAv, therefore the 
 strokes are here continued, till all the blows be 
 struck at it that are requisite for its felling: for 
 uoav cutting time, and cutting work, is come ; cut¬ 
 ting must be his portion till he be cut down. 
 
 ‘ After that thou shalt cut it down. Death, I say, 
 is the axe, which God often useth, therewith to 
 tahe the barren fig-tree out of the vineyard, out of 
 a profession, and also out of the Avorld at once. 
 But this axe is now new ground, it cometh well- 
 edged to the roots of this barren fig-tree. It hath 
 been Avhetted by sin, by the latv, and by a formal 
 profession, and therefore must, and will make deep 
 gashes, not only in the natural life, but in the heart 
 and conscience also of this professor: ‘ The wages 
 of sin is death,’ ‘ the sting of death is sin.’ Ro. vi. 23. 
 1 Co. xv. 56. Wherefore death comes not to this man 
 as he doth to saints, muzzled, or without his sting, 
 but Avith open mouth, in all his strength; yea, ho 
 sends his first-born, which is guilt, to devour his 
 strength, and to bring him to the king of terrors. 
 
 Job xviii. 13 , 14 . 
 
585 
 
 THE DOOM AND DOWNFALL OF THE 
 
 FRUITLESS PROFESSOR, 
 
 P)Ut to give you, in a few particulars, the manner 
 of this man’s dving. 
 
 1. Now he liath his fruitless fruits beleaguer him 
 round liis bed, together with all the bands and 
 legions of his other wickedness. ‘ Ilis own ini¬ 
 quities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall 
 be holden with the cords of his sins.’ rr. v. 22 . 
 
 2. Now some terrible discovery of God is made 
 out unto him, to the perplexing and terrifying of 
 bis guilty conscience. ‘ God shall cast upon him, 
 and not spare and he shall be afraid of that which 
 
 IS high.’ Job xxvii. 22 . Ec. xii. 5 . 
 
 3. The dark entry he is to go through will be a 
 sore amazement to him ; for ‘ fears shall he in the 
 way.’ Ec. xii. 5. Yea, terrors will take hold on him, 
 when he shall see the yawning jaws of death to 
 gape upon him, and the doors of the shadow of 
 death open to give him passage out of the world. 
 Now, wjio will meet me in this dark entry? how 
 shall I pass through this dark entry into another 
 world? „ 
 
 4. For jby reason of guilt, and a shaking con¬ 
 science, his life will bang in continual doubt before 
 him, and he shall be afraid day and night, and 
 shall have no assurance of his life. De. xxviii. 66, 67 . 
 
 O. Now also want will come up against him; he 
 will come up like an armed man. This is a terrible 
 army to him that is graceless in heart, and fruitless 
 in life. This want will continually cry in thine 
 ears. Here is a new birth wanting, a new heart, 
 and a new spirit wanting; here is faith wanting; 
 here is love and repentance wanting; here is the 
 fear of God wanting, and a good conversation want- 
 
 O 7 O 
 
 ing: ‘ Thou art weighed in the balances, and art 
 found wanting.’ Da. v. 27 . 
 
 o 
 
 6 . Together with these standeth by the com¬ 
 panions of death, death and hell, death and devils, 
 death and endless torment in the everlasting flames 
 of devouring fire. ‘ When God cometh up unto 
 the people he will invade them with his troops.’ 
 
 Uab. iii. 
 
 VOL. ill. 
 
 But how will this man die? Can his heart now 
 endure, or can his hands be strong ? Eze. xxii. u. 
 
 (1.) God, and Christ, and pity, have left him. 
 Sin against light, against mercy, and the long-suf¬ 
 fering of God, is come up against him; his hope 
 and confidence now lie a-dying by him, and his con¬ 
 science totters and shakes continually within him! 
 
 (2.) Death is at his work, cutting of him down, 
 hewing both bark and heart, both body and soul 
 asunder. The man groans, but death hears him 
 not; he looks ghastly, carefully,dejectedly; he sighs, 
 he sweats, he trembles, but death matters nothing. 
 
 (3.) Fearful cogitations haunt him, misgivings, 
 direful apprehensions of God, terrify him. Now 
 he hath time to think what the loss of heaven will 
 be, and what the torments of hell will be: now he 
 looks no way but he is frighted. 
 
 (4.) Now would he live, but may not; he would 
 live, though it were but the life of a bed-rid man, 
 but he must not. lie that cuts him down sways 
 him as the feller of wood sways the tottering tree; 
 now this way, then that, at last a root breaks, a 
 heart-string, an eye-string, sweeps asunder. 
 
 (5.) And now, could the soul be annihilated, or 
 brought to nothing, how happy would it count it¬ 
 self, but it sees that may not be. Wherefore it is 
 put to a wonderful strait; stay in the body it may 
 not, go out of the body it dares not. Life i3 going, 
 the blood settles in the flesh, and the lungs being no 
 more able to draw breath through the nostrils, at 
 last out goes tiio weary trembling soul, which is 
 immediately seized by devils, who lay lurking in 
 every hole in the chamber for that very purpose. 
 Ilis friends take care of the body, wrap it up in the 
 sheet or coffin, but the soul is out of their thought 
 and reach, going down to the chambers of death. 
 
 I had thought to have enlarged, but 1 forbear. 
 God, who teaches man to profit, bless this brief and 
 plain discourse to thy soul, who yet standest a pro¬ 
 fessor in the land of the living, among the trees of 
 his garden. Amen. 
 
 % 
 
 n 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN, 
 
 PRESENTED TO THE WOULD TN 
 
 A FAMILIAR DIALOGUE BETWEEN MR. WISEMAN AND MR. ATTENTIVE. 
 
 % 
 
 BrJOHN BUNYAN, 
 
 Tiie Author op the ‘ Pilgrim’s Progress.’ 
 
 Printed by J. A. for Nath. Ponder, at the Peacock in the Poultry, near the Church, 1CS0. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY TIIE EDITOR. 
 
 The life of Badman is a very interesting descrip¬ 
 tion, a true and lively portraiture, of the demoral¬ 
 ized classes of the trading community in the reign 
 of Kin"- Charles II. ; a subject which naturally led 
 the author to use expressions familiar among such 
 persons, but which are now either obsolete or con¬ 
 sidered as vulgar. In fact it is the only work 
 proceeding from the prolific pen and fertde im¬ 
 agination of Bunyan, in which he uses terms that, 
 in this delicate and refined age, may give offence. 
 So, in the venerable translation of the holy oracles, 
 there are some objectionable expressions, which, 
 although formerly used in the politest company, 
 now point to the age in which it was written. The 
 same ideas or facts would now be expressed by 
 terms which could not give offence; and every 
 reader must feel great pleasure in the improvement 
 of our language, as seen in the contrast between 
 the two periods, and especially in the recollection 
 that the facts might be stated with equal precision, 
 and reflections made with equal force, in terms at 
 which the most delicate mind could not he of¬ 
 fended. 
 
 Those who read the writings of Bunyan must 
 feel continually reminded of his ardent attachment 
 to his Saviour, and his intense love to the souls of 
 sinners. lie was as delicate in his expressions as 
 any writer of his age, who addressed the openly 
 vicious and profane—calling things by their most 
 forcible and popular appellations. A wilful untruth 
 is, with him, ‘ a lie.’ To show the wickedness and 
 extreme folly of swearing, he gives the words and 
 imprecations then commonly in use; but which, 
 happily for us, we never hear, except among the 
 most degraded classes of society. Swearing was 
 formerly considered to be a habit of gentility; but 
 now it betrays the blackguard, even when disguised 
 in genteel attire. Those dangerous diseases which 
 are so surely engendered by filth and uncleanness, 
 he calls not by Latin but by their plain English 
 names. In every’ case, the Editor has not ven¬ 
 tured to make the slightest alteration; but has 
 
 reprinted the whole in the author s plain and power¬ 
 ful language. 
 
 The life of Badman forms a third part to the 
 Pilgrim’s Progress, not a delightful pilgrimage to 
 heaven, but. on the contrary, a wretched downwaid 
 journey to the infernal realms. The authoi s ob¬ 
 ject is to warn poor thoughtless sinners, not with 
 smooth words, to which they would take no heed ; 
 but to thunder upon their consciences the peril of 
 their souls, and the increasing wretchedness into 
 which they were madly hurrying. He who is in 
 imminent, but unseen danger, will bless the m am¬ 
 ino- voice if it reach his ears, however lough and 
 
 startling the sound may be. 
 
 The life of Badman was written in an age when 
 profligacy, vice, and debauchery, marched like a 
 desolating army through our land, headed by r the 
 king, and officered by his polluted couitieis, led 
 on with all the pomp and splendour which royalty 
 could display. The king and his ministers well 
 knew that the most formidable enemies to tyranny, 
 oppression, and misgovernment, were the piety and 
 stern morality of the Puritans, Nonconformists, and 
 the small classes of virtuous citizens of other de¬ 
 nominations ; and therefore every effort was made 
 by allurements and intimidation to debauch and 
 demoralize their minds, p.592. Well does Bunyan 
 say that ‘ wickedness like a flood is like to drown 
 our English world. It has almost swallowed up 
 all our youth, our middle age, old age, and all are 
 almost carried away of this flood. It reels to and 
 fro like a drunkard, it is like to fall and rise no 
 more.’ p. 593 . ‘It is the very haunts and walks 
 of the internal spirits.’ ‘England shakes and makes 
 me totter for its transgressions.’ 
 
 The gradations of a wicked man in that evil 
 a"-e, from his cradle to his grave, are graphically 
 set before the reader; it is all drawn from reality, 
 and not from efforts of imagination. Every ex¬ 
 ample is a picture of some real occurrence, either 
 within the view of the author, or from the narra¬ 
 tives of credible witnesses. ‘ All the things that 
 
ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 587 
 
 here I discourse of, have been acted upon the stage 
 of this world, even many times before mine eyes.’ 
 Badman is represented as having had the very 
 great advantage of pious parents, and a godly 
 master, but run riot in wickedness from his child¬ 
 hood. Lying and pilfering mark his early days; 
 followed in after life by swearing, cheating, drunk¬ 
 enness, hypocrisy, infidelity and atheism. His 
 conscience became hardened to that awful extent, 
 that he had no bands in his death. The career 
 of wickedness has often been so pictured, as to 
 encourage and cherish vice and profanity—to ex¬ 
 cite the unregenerate mind ‘ to ride post by other 
 men’s sins.’ 1 Not so the life of Badman. The 
 u S‘ly> wretched, miserable consequences that as¬ 
 suredly follow a vicious career, are here displayed 
 in biting words — alarming the conscience, and 
 awfully warning the sinner of his destiny, unless 
 happily he finds that repentance that needeth not 
 to be repented of. No debauchee ever read the 
 life of Badman to gratify or increase his thirst for 
 sin. ’I he tricks which in those days so generally 
 accompanied trading, are unsparingly exposed; 
 becoming bankrupt to make money, a species of 
 e J» cli ought to be punished as felony; 
 double weights, too heavy for buying, and light to 
 sell by, overcharging those who take credit, and 
 the taking advantage of the necessities of others, 
 with the abuse of evil gains in debauchery, and its 
 ensuing miseries, are all faithfully displayed. 
 
 In the course of the narrative, a variety of awful 
 examples of divine vengeance are introduced; some 
 from that singular compilation, Clarke’s Looking- 
 glass for Saints and Sinners; others from ‘ Beard’s 
 Theatre of God s Judgments ; and many that hap¬ 
 pened under the author’s own immediate know¬ 
 ledge. r l he faithfulness of his extracts from books 
 has been fully verified. The awful death of Dorothy 
 Mutely, of Ashover, in Derbyshire, mentioned in 
 i>. C04, I had an opportunity of testing, by the 
 aid of my kind friend, Thomas Bateman, Esq., of 
 \olgrave. lie sent me the following extract 
 from the Ashover Register for 1660 :—‘ Dorothy 
 Mutely, supposed wife to John Flint of this parish, 
 forswore herself; whereupon the ground opened, 
 and she sunk over head, March 23, and being found 
 dead, she was buried, March 25.’ Thus fully con¬ 
 tinuing the facts, as stated by Bunyan. Solemn 
 providences, intended, in the inscrutable wisdom of 
 God, for wise purposes, must not be always called 
 * divine judgments.’ A ship is lost, and the good 
 with the bad, sink together; a missionary is mur¬ 
 dered; a pious Malay is martyred; still no one can 
 suppose that these are instances of divine vengeance. 
 But when the atrocious bishop Bonner, in his old 
 age, miserably perishes in prison, it reminds us of 
 
 our Lord’s saying, ‘ with what measure yo mete, 
 it shall be measured to you again.’ 
 
 Bunyan’s pictures, of which tho life of Badman 
 is a continued series, are admirably painted from 
 life. 1 he extraordinary depths of hypocrisy, used 
 in gaining the affections of a pious wealthy young 
 woman, and entrapping her into a marriage, are 
 admirably drawn, as is its companion or counter¬ 
 part, when Badman, in his widower-hood, suffers 
 an infamous strumpet to inveigle him into a miser¬ 
 able marriage, as he so richly deserved. The 
 death-bed scene of the pious broken-hearted Mrs. 
 Badman, is a masterpiece. In fact the wholo is 
 a series of pictures drawn by a most admirable 
 artist, and calculated to warn and attract the sin¬ 
 ner from his downward course. 
 
 In comparison with the times of Bunyan, Eng¬ 
 land has now become wonderfully reformed from 
 those grosser pollutions which disgraced her name. 
 Persons of riper age, whose reminiscences go back 
 to the times of the slave trade, slavery, and war, 
 will call to mind scenes of vice, brutality, open 
 debauchery and profligacy, which, in these peaceful 
 and prosperous times, would be instantly repressed 
 and properly punished. Should peace be preserved, 
 domestic, social, and national purity and happiness 
 must increase with still greater and more delight¬ 
 ful rapidity. Civilization and Christianity will 
 triumph over despotism, vice, and false religions, 
 and the time be hastened on, in which the divine 
 art of rendering each other happy will engross the 
 attention of all mankind. Much yet remains to be 
 done for the conversion of the still numerous family 
 connections of Mr. Badman; but the leaven of 
 Christianity must, in spite of all opposition, even¬ 
 tually spread over the whole mass. 
 
 Homely proverbs abound in this narrative, all 
 of which are worthy of being treasured up in our 
 memories. Is nothing so secret but it will be re¬ 
 vealed ? we are told that ‘ Hedges have eves and 
 pitchers have ears.’ 2 They who encourage evil 
 propensities are ‘nurses to the devil’s brats.’ It 
 is said of him who hurries on in a career of folly 
 and sin, ‘The devil rides him off his legs.’ ‘As 
 the devil corrects vice,’ refers to those who yrclend 
 to correct bad habits by means intended to pro¬ 
 mote them. ‘ The devil is a cunning schoolmaster.’ 
 Satan taking the wicked into his foul embraces is 
 ‘ like to like, as the devil said to the collier.’ 
 
 In two things the times have certainly improved. 
 Bunyan describes all ‘ pawnbrokers ’ to have been 
 ‘ vile wretches,’ and, in extortion, the women to be 
 worse than the men. p. 638. Happily for our days, 
 good and even pious pawnbrokers may be found, 
 who are honourable exceptions to Mr. Bunyan’s 
 sweeping rule; nor do our women in any respect 
 
 1 Reynolds preface to God's Revenge against Murder. 
 
 * See note on p. COG. 
 
688 
 
 advertisement by the editor. 
 
 appear to be greater extortioners than our men. 
 The instructions, exhortations, and scriptural pre¬ 
 cepts and examples to enforce honest dealing, in¬ 
 terspersed as reflections throughout this narrative, 
 are invaluable, and will, I trust, prove beneficial to 
 every reader. 
 
 I have taken the liberty of dividing this long- 
 continued dialogue into chapters, for the greater 
 facility of reference, and as periods in the history, 
 where the reader may conveniently re3t in his pro¬ 
 gress through this deeply interesting narrative. 
 
 Geo. Offou. 
 
 
 As a curious and interesting illustration of the form and manner in which the Life of Badman was 
 first published, facsimiles of the five engravings that accompanied the first edition are given on 
 this and the following page. These woodcuts are accurately copied from a fine set in the first 
 edition," in the Editor’s library. Very few of these rare volumes are found with the cuts, the 
 iaverse*of each being blank. They are in the later copies, with letter-press on the reverse; 
 excepting the folio editions, which have the live engraved on one copper-plate, the designs being 
 
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 THE AUTHOR TO TI1E READER. 
 
 *«* t i**v -f r | 
 
 jj 
 
 TIIE AUTHOR TO THE READER. .■ 
 
 Courteous Reader, 
 
 As 1 was considering with myself what I had 
 written concerning the Progress of the Pilgrim 
 from this world to glory, and how it had been 
 acceptable to many in this nation, it came again 
 into my mind to write, as then, of him that was 
 going to heaven, so now, of the life and death of 
 the ungodly, and of their travel from this world to 
 hell. The which in this I have done, and have 
 put it, as thou scest, under the name and title of 
 Mr. Badman, a name very proper for such a sub¬ 
 ject. I have also put it into the form of a dialogue, 
 that I might with more ease to myself, and pleasure 
 to the reader, perform the work. And although, 
 as I said, I have put it forth in this method, yet 
 have I as little as may be gone out of the road of 
 mine own observation of things. Yea, I think I 
 may truly say that to the best of my remembrance, 
 all the things that here I discourse of, I mean as 
 to matter of fact, have been acted upon the stage 
 of this world, even many times before mine eyes. 
 
 Here therefore, courteous reader, I present thee 
 with the life and death of Mr. Badman indeed; 
 yea, I do trace him in his life, from his childhood 
 to his death; that thou mayest, as in a glass, be¬ 
 hold with thine own eyes the steps that take hold 
 of hell: and also discern, while thou art reading 
 of Mr. Badman’s death, whether thou thyself art 
 treading in his path thereto. And let me entreat 
 thee to forbear quirking 1 and mocking, for that I 
 say Mr. Badman is dead; but rather gravely in¬ 
 quire concerning thyself by the Word, whether thou 
 art one of his lineage or no; for Mr. Badman has 
 left many of his relations behind him; yea, the 
 very world is overspread with his kindred. True, 
 some of his relations, as he, are gone to their place 
 and long home, but thousands of thousands are 
 left behind ; as brothers, sisters, cousins, nephews, 
 besides innumerable of his friends and associates. 
 1 may say, and yet speak nothing but too much 
 truth in so saying, that there is scarce a fellowship, 
 a community, or fraternity of men in the world, but 
 some of Mr. Badman’s relations are there; yea, 
 rarely can we find a family or household in a town, 
 where he has not left behind him either a brother, 
 nephew, or friend. 
 
 The butt 2 therefore, that at this time I shoot at, 
 is wide; and it will be as impossible for this book 
 
 1 Quirk, an artful or subtle evasion of a truthful home-thrust. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 - Butt, a mark set up to shoot at. ‘Some are always exposed 
 to the wit and raillery of their wcllwishers, pelted by friends aud 
 lues, in a word, staud as butts.’— Spectator, No. 47.—(Ed,) 
 
 to go into several families, and not to arrest some, 
 as for the king’s messenger to rush into a house 
 full of traitors, and find none but honest men 
 there. s I cannot but think that this shot will light 
 upon many, since our fields are so full of this 
 game; but how many it will kill to Mr. Badman’s 
 course, and make alive to the Pilgrim’s Progress, 
 that is not in me to determine; this secret is with . 
 the Lord our God only, and he alone knows to 
 whom he will bless it to so good and so blessed 
 an end. However, 1 have put fire to the pan, 3 4 and 
 doubt not but the report will quickly be heard. 
 
 1 told you before that Mr. Badman had left 
 many of his friends and relations behind him, but 
 if I survive them, as that is a great question to me, 
 
 I may also write of their lives; however, "whether 
 my life be longer or shorter, this is my prayer at 
 present, that God will stir up witnesses against 
 them, that mav either convert or confound them ; 
 for wherever they live, and roll in their wickedness, 
 they are the pest and plague of that country. 
 England shakes and totters already, by reason of 
 the burden that Mr. Badman and his friends have 
 wickedly laid upon it. Yea, our earth reels and 
 staggereth to and fro like a drunkard, the trans¬ 
 gression thereof is heavy upon it. 
 
 Courteous reader, I will treat thee now, even at 
 the door and threshold of this house, but only with 
 this intelligence, that Mr. Badman lies dead within. 
 Be pleased therefore, if thy leisure will serve thee, 
 to enter in, and behold the state in which he is 
 laid, betwixt his death-bed and the grave. He is 
 not buried as yet, nor doth he stink, as is designed 
 he shall, before he lies down in oblivion. Now as 
 others have had their funerals solemnized, accord¬ 
 ing to their greatness and grandeur in the world, 
 so likewise Mr. Badman, forasmuch as he deserveth 
 not to go down to his grave with silence, has his 
 funeral state according to his deserts. 
 
 Four things are usual at great men’s funerals, 
 Avhich we will take leave, and I hope without 
 offence, to allude to, in the funeral of Mr. Badman. 
 
 First. They are sometimes, when dead, pre¬ 
 sented to their friends, by their completely wrought 
 images, as lively as by cunning men’s hands they 
 can be; that the remembrance of them may be 
 renewed to their survivors, the remembrance of 
 
 3 The office of a Christian minister is like that of a king’s 
 messenger, not only to comfort and reward the king’s friends, 
 but to arrest his enemies. England was then overrun with 
 the latter ‘game.’ Alas! there are too many of them now. 
 May the revival of this shot ‘ light upon many.’— (Ed.) 
 
 4 ‘ Fire to the pan,’ alluding to the mode of using fire-arms, 
 by applying a lighted match to the pan, before the tire-lock 
 was invented.—(E d.) 
 
THE AUTHOR TO THE READER. 
 
 501 
 
 them and their deeds ; and this I have endeavoured 
 to answer in my discourse of Mr. Badman, and 
 therefore I have drawn him forth in his features 
 and actions from his childhood to his grev hairs. 
 Here therefore, thou hast him lively set forth as in 
 cuts ; both as to the minority, flower, and seniority 
 of his age, together with those actions of his life, 
 that he was most capable of doing, in and under 
 those present circumstances of time, place, strength; 
 and the opportunities that did attend him in these. 
 
 Second. There is also usual at great men’s fune¬ 
 rals, those badges and escutcheons of their honour, 
 that they have received from their ancestors, or 
 have been thought worthy of for the deeds and 
 exploits they have done in their life ; and here Mr. 
 Badman has his, but such as vary from all men of 
 worth, but so much the more agreeing with the 
 merit of his doings. They all have descended in 
 state, he only as an abominable branch. Ilis 
 deserts are the deserts of sin, and therefore the 
 escutcheons of honour that he has, are only that 
 he died without honour, ‘ and at his end became a 
 fool.’ ‘Thou shalt not be joined with them in 
 burial.’ ‘ The seed of evii doers shall never be 
 renowned.’ is. xiv. 20 . 
 
 The funeral pomp therefore of Mr. Badman, is 
 to wear upon his hearse the badges of a dis¬ 
 honourable and wicked life; since ‘ his bones are 
 full of the sin of his youth, which shall lie down, ’ 
 as Job says, ‘ with him in the dust.’ Nor is it fit 
 that any should be his attendants, now at his 
 death, but such as with him conspired against their 
 own souls in their life; persons whose transgres¬ 
 sions have made them infamous to all that have 
 or shall know what they have done. 
 
 Some notice therefore I have also here in this 
 little discourse given the reader, of them who were 
 his confederates in his life, and attendants at his 
 death; with a hint, either ot some high villany 
 committed by them, as also of those judgments 
 that have overtaken and fallen upon them from the 
 just and revenging hand of God. All which are 
 things either fully known by me, as being eye and 
 ear-witness thereto, or that I have received from 
 such hands, whose relation, as to this, I am bound 
 to believe. And that the reader may know them 
 from other things and passages herein contained, 
 I have pointed at them in the margin, as with a 
 linger, thus: fFj* 
 
 Third. The iuuerals of persons of quality have 
 been solemnized with some suitable sermon at the 
 time and place of their burial; but that I am not 
 come to as yet, having got no further than to Mr. 
 Badman’s death; but forasmuch as he must be 
 buried, after he hath stunk out his time before his 
 beholders, 1 doubt not but some such that we read 
 are appointed to be at the burial of Gog, will do 
 this work in my stead; such as shall leave him 
 
 neither skin nor bone above ground, but shall set 
 a sign by it till the buriers have buried it in the 
 
 O 4 / 
 
 valley of Ilamon-gog. Eze. xxxix. 
 
 Fourth. At funerals there does use to be mourn¬ 
 ing and lamentation, but here also Mr. Badman 
 differs from others; his familiars cannot lament 
 his departure, for they have not sense of his dam¬ 
 nable state ; they rather ring him, and sing him to 
 hell in the sleep of death, in which he goes thither. 
 Good men count him no loss to the world, his place 
 can well be without him, his loss is only his own, 
 and it is too late for him to recover that damage 
 or loss by a sea of bloody tears, could he shed them. 
 Yea, God has said he will laugh at his destruction ; 
 who then shall lament for him, saying, Ah! my 
 brother. He was but a stinking weed in his life; 
 nor was he better at all in his death; such may 
 well be thrown, over the wall without sorrow, when 
 once God has plucked them up by the roots in his 
 wrath. 
 
 Reader, if thou art of the race, lineage, stock, 
 or fraternity of Mr. Badman, I tell thee, before thou 
 readest this book, thou wilt neither brook the author 
 nor it, because he hath writ of Mr. Badman as he 
 has. For he that condemneth the wicked that die 
 so, passeth also the sentence upon the wicked that 
 live. I therefore expect neither credit of, nor 
 countenance from thee, for this narration of thy 
 kinsman’s life. For thy old love to thy friend, his 
 ways, doings, &c., will stir up in thee enmity rather 
 in thy very heart against me. 1 shall therefore 
 incline to think of thee, that thou wilt rend, burn, 
 or throw it away in contempt; yea, and wish also, 
 that for writing so notorious a truth, some mischief 
 may befal me. I look also to be loaded by thee 
 with disdain, scorn, and contempt; yea, that thou 
 shouldest railingly and vilifyingly say I lie, and 
 am a bespatterer of honest men’s lives and deaths. 
 For Mr. Badman, when himself was alive, could 
 not abide to be counted a knave, though his actions 
 told all that went by, that indeed lie was such an 
 one. How then should his brethren that survive 
 him, and that tread in his very steps, approve of 
 the sentence that by this book is pronounced against 
 him? Will they not rather imitate Korah, Dathan, 
 and A biram’s friends, even rail at me for condem¬ 
 ning him, as they did at Moses for doing execution ? 
 
 I know it is ill puddling in the cockatrice’s den, 
 and that they run hazards that hunt the wild boar 
 The man also that writeth Mr. Badman’s life had 
 need be fenced with a coat of mail, and with the 
 staff of a spear, for that his surviving friends will 
 know what he doth; but 1 have adventured to do 
 it, and to play, at this time, at the hole of these 
 asps; if they bite, they bite; if they sting, they 
 sting. Christ sends his lambs in the midst of 
 wolves, not to do like them, but to suffer by them 
 for bearing plain testimony against their bad deeds. 
 
I 
 
 592 
 
 THE AUTHOR TO THE READER. 
 
 Hut had one not need to walk with a guard, and 
 to have a sentinel stand at one’s door for this? 
 Verily, the flesh would he glad of such help; yea, 
 a spiritual man, could he tell how to get it. Ac.xxiii. 
 Hut I am stript naked of these, and yet am com¬ 
 manded to be faithful in my service for Christ. 
 Well then, I have spoken what I have spoken, and 
 now * come on me what will. ’ Job xiii. is. True, the 
 text say, Rebuke a scorner and he will hate thee; 
 and that he that reprovetli a Avickcd man getteth 
 himself a blot and shame. But what then ? Open 
 rebuke is better than secret love, and he that 
 receives it shall find it so afterwards. 
 
 So then, whether Mr. Badman’s friends shall 
 raa’e or lau<rh at what I have writ, 1 know that 
 the better end of the stall' 1 is mine. My endeavour 
 is to stop a hellish course of life, and to ‘ save a 
 soul from death. ’ Ja. v. £0. And if for so doing I 
 meet with envy from them, from whom in reason 
 1 should have thanks, 1 must remember the man 
 in the dream, 2 that cut his way through his armed 
 enemies, and so got into the beauteous palace; 1 
 must, I say, remember him, and do myself likewise. 
 
 Yet four things I will propound to the consider¬ 
 ation of Mr. Badman’s friends before I turn my 
 back upon them. 
 
 1. Suppose that there be a hell in very deed; 
 not that 1 do question it any more than I do 
 whether there be a sun to shine, but I suppose it 
 lor argument sake with Mr. Badman’s friends. I 
 
 O 
 
 say, suppose there be a hell, and that too such an 
 one as the Scripture speaks of, one at the remotest 
 distance from God and life eternal, one where the 
 worm of a guilty conscience never dies, and where 
 the lire of the wrath of God is not quenched. Sup¬ 
 pose, I say, that there is such a hell, prepared of 
 God—as there is indeed—for the body and soul of 
 the ungodly world after this life to be tormented 
 in; I say, do but with thyself suppose it, and then 
 tell me is it not prepared for thee, thou being a 
 wicked man? Let thy conscience speak, I say, 
 is it not prepared for thee, thou being an un¬ 
 godly man? And dost thou think, wast thou 
 there now, that thou art able to wrestle with the 
 judgment of God? Why then do the fallen angels 
 tremble there? Thy hands cannot be strong, nor 
 can thy heart endure, in that day when God shall 
 deal with thee. Eze. xxii. it. 
 
 2. Suppose that some one that is now a soul in 
 hell for sin, was permitted to come hither again 
 to dwell, and that they had a grant also, that, 
 upon amendment of life, next time they die, to 
 
 1 In the single combat of quarter-stall, he who held the 
 best end of the staff usually gained the victory.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Pilgrims Progress , Interpreter’s House, p. 100. This 
 is a remarkable illustration of a difficult part of the allegory— 
 faithful admonitions repaid by murderous revenge, but over¬ 
 come by Christian courage.—(E d.) 
 
 change that place for heaven and glory. What 
 savst thou, 0 wicked man? Would such an one, 
 thinkest thou, run again into the same course o( 
 life as before, and venture the damnation that for 
 sin he had already been in? Would he choose 
 again to lead that cursed life that afresh would 
 kindle the flames of hell upon him, and that would 
 bind him up under the heavy wrath of God? 0! 
 lie would not, he would not; Lu. xvi. insinuates it; 
 yea, reason itself awake would abhor it, and 
 tremble at such a thought. 
 
 3. Suppose again, that thou that livest and 
 rollest in thy sin, and that as yet hast known no¬ 
 thing but the pleasure thereof, shouldest bo by 
 an angel conveyed to some place, where, with con¬ 
 venience, from thence thou mightest have a view 
 of heaven and hell, of the joys of the one and the 
 torments of the other; 1 say, suppose that from 
 thence thou mightest have such a view thereof as 
 would convince thy reason that both heaven and 
 hell are such realities as by the Word they are 
 declared to he ; wouldest thou, thinkest thou, when 
 brought to thy home again, choose to thyself thy 
 former life, to wit, to return to thy folly again? 
 No; if belief of what thou sawest remained with 
 thee thou wouldest eat fire and brimstone first. 
 
 4. 1 will propound again. Suppose that there 
 was amongst us such a law, and such a magistrate 
 to inllict the penalty, that for every open wicked¬ 
 ness committed by thee, so much of thy flesli should 
 with burning pincers be plucked from thy bones, 
 wouldest thou then go on in thy open way of lying, 
 swearing, drinking, and whoring, as thou with 
 delight doest now? Surely, surely, no. The fear 
 of the punishment would make thee forbear; yea, 
 would make thee tremble, even then when thy 
 lusts were powerful, to think what a punishment 
 thou wast sure to sustain so soon as the pleasure 
 was over. But 0! the folly, the madness, the 
 desperate madness that is in the hearts of Mr. 
 Badman’s friends, who, in despite of the threaten- 
 ings of a holy and sin-revenging God, and of the 
 outcries and warnings of all good men, ^ea, that 
 will, in despite of the groans and torments of those 
 that are now in hell for sin, go on in a sinful course 
 of life, yea, though every sin is also a step of 
 descent down to that infernal cave. Lu. xvi. 24 , 28. 
 0 how true is that saying of Solomon, * The heart 
 of the sons of men is full of evil, and madness is 
 in their heart while they live, and after that they 
 go to the dead.’ Ec. ix. 3 . To the dead! that is, to 
 the dead in hell, to the damned dead, the place to 
 which those that have died bad men are gone, and 
 that those that live bad men are like to go to, 
 when a little more sin, like stolen waters, hath 
 been imbibed by their sinful souls. 
 
 That which has made me publish this book is, 
 
 1. For that wickedness, like a flood, is like to 
 
593 
 
 THE AUTHOR J 
 
 drown our English world. It begins already to be 
 above the tops of tho mountains; it has almost 
 swallowed up all; our youth, middle age, old ao*e, 
 and all, are almost carried away of this flood. °0 
 debauchery, debauchery, what hast thou done in 
 England! Iliou hast corrupted our young men, 
 and hast made our old men beasts; thou lTast de¬ 
 flow ei ed our virgins, and hast made matrons bawds. 
 Thou hast made our earth ‘ to reel to and fro like 
 a drunkard ; it is in danger to ‘ be removed like a 
 cottage, yea, it is, because transgression is so 
 heavy upon it, like to fall and rise no more. is. 
 xxiv - 0! that I co uld mourn for England, and 
 for the sins that are committed therein, even while 
 1 see that, without repentance, the men of God’s 
 Aviuth are about to deal with us, each having his 
 ‘ slaughtering weapon in his hand.’ Eze. ix. l, 2 . 
 ^ ell, I have written, and by God’s assistance 
 shall pi ay that this flood may abate in England ; 
 and could I but see the tops of the mountains 
 above it, I should think that these waters were 
 abating. 
 
 It is the duty of those that can to cry out 
 against this deadly plague, yea, to lift up their 
 voice as with a trumpet against it, that men may 
 be awakened about it, fly from it, as from that 
 which is the greatest of evils. Sin pulled angels 
 out of heaven, pulls men down to hell, and over¬ 
 toil oweth kingdoms. Who, that sees a house on 
 fire, will not give the alarm to them that dwell 
 therein? W ho, that sees the land invaded, will 
 not set the beacons on a flame. Who, that sees 
 the devils as roaring lions, continually devouring 
 souls, will not make an out-cry? Hut above all, 
 when we see sin, sinful sin, a swallowing up a 
 nation, sinking of a nation, and bringing its in¬ 
 habitants to temporal, spiritual, and eternal ruin, 
 shall we not cry out and cry, They are drunk, but 
 not with wine; they stagger, but not with strong 
 drink; they are intoxicated with the deadly poison 
 of sin, which will, if its malignity be not by whole¬ 
 some means allayed, bring soul and body, and 
 estate, and country, and all, to ruin and destruction? 
 
 3. In and by this outcry I shall deliver myself 
 from the ruins of them that perish; for a man 
 can do no more in this matter—I mean a man in 
 my capacity—than to detect and condemn the 
 wickedness, warn the evil doer of the judgment, 
 and fly therefrom myself. But 0 ! that I might 
 not only deliver myself! 0 that many would hear, 
 and turn at this my cry from sin! that they may 
 
 be secured from the death and judgment that 
 attend it. 
 
 ^ hy I have handled the matter in this method 
 is host known to myself. And why I have con¬ 
 cealed most of the names of the persons whose 
 sins or punishments I here and there in this book 
 
 make relation of is, (1.) For that neither the sins 
 VOL. III. 
 
 ) THE READER. 
 
 nor judgments were all alike open ; the sins of 
 some were committed, and the judgments executed 
 for them, only in a corner. Not to say that I 
 could not learn some of their names, for could I, 
 I should not have made them public, for this 
 reason, (2.) Because I would not provoke those of 
 their lelations that survive them; I would not 
 justly provoke them ; and yet, as I think, 1 should, 
 should I have entailed their punishment to their 
 sins, and both to their names, and so have turned 
 them into the world. (3.) Nor would I lay them 
 under disgrace and contempt, which would, as I 
 think, unavoidably have happened unto them had 
 I withal inserted their names. 
 
 As for those whose names I mention, their 
 crimes or judgments were manifest; public almost 
 as anything of that nature that happeneth to 
 mortal men. Such therefore have published their 
 own shame by their sin, and God his anger, by 
 taking of open vengeance. As Job says, God has 
 stiuck them as wicked men in the open sight of 
 others.’ job xxxiv. 2 e. So that l cannot conceive, 
 since their sin and judgment was so conspicuous, 
 that my admonishing the world thereof should 
 turn to their detriment. For the publishing of 
 these things are, so far as relation is concerned, 
 intended for remembrances, that they may also 
 bethink themselves, repent and turn to God, lest 
 the judgments for their sins should prove heredi¬ 
 tary. For the God of heaven hath threatened to 
 visit the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, 
 if they hate him, to the third and fourth genera¬ 
 tion. Ex. xx. 5. 
 
 Nebuchadnezzar s punishment for his pride be¬ 
 ing open—for he was for his sin driven from his 
 kingly dignity, and from among men too, to eat 
 grass like an ox, and to company with the beasts— 
 Daniel did not stick to tell Belshazzar his son to 
 his face thereof; nor to publish it that it might bo 
 lead and remembered by the generations to come. 
 
 I he same may bo said of Judas and Ananias, Ac., 
 for their sin and punishment were known to all tho 
 dwellers at Jerusalem. Ac. l id. Nor is it a sign but 
 of desperate impenitence and hardness of heart, 
 when the offspring or relations of those who have 
 fallen by open, fearful, and prodigious judgments, 
 for their sin, shall overlook, forget, pass by, or 
 take no notice of such high outgoings of God 
 against them and their house. Thus Daniel a^- 
 giavates Belshazzar s crime, for that he hardened 
 his heart in pride, though he knew that for that 
 very sin and transgression his father was brought 
 down from his height, and made to be a companion 
 for asses. ‘ And thou his son, 0 Belshazzar,’ says 
 he, ‘hast not humbled thine heart, though thou 
 knewest all this.’ Da. v. 22 . A home reproof, indeed, 
 but home [reproof] is most fit for an open and a 
 continued in transgression. 
 
 75 
 
584 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Let those, then, that are the offspring or rela¬ 
 tions of such, who by their own sin, and the dread¬ 
 ful judgments of God, are made to become a sign, 
 Be. xvi. 9-12, having been swept as dung from off the 
 face of the earth, beware, lest when judgment 
 knocks at their door, for their sins, as it did before 
 at the door of their progenitors, it falls also with as 
 heavy a stroke as on them that went before them.' 
 Nu. xvi. 38-40. Lest, I say, they in that day, instead 
 of finding mercy, find for their high, daring, and 
 judgment-affronting sins, judgment without mercy. 
 
 To conclude; let those that would not die Mr. 
 Badman’s death, take heed of Mr. Badman’s ways; 
 tor his ways bring to his end. M ickedness will 
 not deliver him that is given to it; though they 
 should cloak all with a profession of religion. If 
 it was a transgression of old for a man to wear a 
 woman’s apparel, surely it is a transgression now 
 for a sinner to wear a Christian profession for a 
 cloak. Wolves in sheep’s clothing swarm in Eng¬ 
 land this day; wolves both as to doctrine, and as 
 to practice too. Some men make a profession, I 
 doubt, on purpose that they may twist themgelves 
 into a trade; and thence into an estate ; yea, and 
 if need be, into an estate knavishly, by the ruins 
 of their neighbour. Let such take heed, for those 
 
 that do such things have the greater damnation. 
 Christian, make thy profession shine by a conver¬ 
 sation according to the gospel; or else thou wilt 
 damnify religion, bring scandal to thy brethren, 
 and give offence to the enemies; and it would 
 be better that a millstone was hanged about thy 
 neck, and that thou, as so adorned, was cast into 
 the bottom of the sea, than so to do. Christian, 
 a profession according to the gospel is, in these 
 days, a rare thing; seek then after it, put it on, 
 and keep it without spot, and, as becomes thee, 
 white, and clean, and thou shalt be a rare Christian. , 
 The prophecy of the last times is, that profess¬ 
 ing men, for so I understand the text, shall be 
 many of them base, 2 Ti. iii; but continue thou in 
 the things that thou hast learned, not of wanton 
 men, nor of licentious times, but of the Word and 
 doctrine of God, that is, according to godliness; 
 and thou shalt walk with Christ in white. Now, 
 God Almighty gave his people grace, not to hate 
 or malign sinners, nor yet to choose any of their 
 ways, but to keep themselves pure from the blood 
 of all men, by speaking and doing according to 
 that name and those rules that they profess to 
 know and love; for Jesus Christ’s sake. 
 
 John Bunyan. 
 
 fhfo Cff) 10 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Chip. I. Badman’s death and its awful consequences, . 593 
 This leads to the discourse of his life. 
 
 — II. Badman’s wicked behaviour in childhood, . 594 
 
 — III. Badman’s apprenticeship to a pious master, . 605 
 
 — IY, He gets a new master bad as himself, . 614 
 
 — V. Badman in business; the tricks of a wicked 
 
 tradesman, . . . . • • .616 
 
 — VI. His hypocritical courtship and marriage to a 
 
 pious, rich, young lady, . . . .618 
 
 _VII. He throws off the mask and cruelly treats his 
 
 wife. Bunyan’s rules for such as think of 
 marriage, . . . • • • .620 
 
 — VIII. Badman is a bankrupt, and gets by it hat¬ 
 fuls of money, . . - ■ .628 
 
 — IX. Badman’s fraudulent dealings to get money, 633 
 — X. The simple Christian’s views of extortion, . 637 
 
 — XI. Instructions for righteous trading, . . 640 
 
 — XII. Badman’s pride, atheism, infidelity, and 
 
 envy. 
 
 642 
 
 Chap. XIII. He gets drunk and breaks his leg. God’s 
 
 judgments upon drunkards, . . .648 
 
 — XIV. His pretended repentings and promises of 
 
 reform when death grimly stares at him, . 649 
 
 — XV. Death leaves him for a season, and he returns 
 
 to his sins, like a sow that has been washed to 
 her wallowing in the mire, . . .651 
 
 — XVI. His pious wife dies broken-hearted. Her 
 
 deathbed charge to her family, . . .652 
 
 — XVII. He is tricked into a second marriage by a 
 
 woman as bad as himself, . . .654 
 
 — XVIII. He parts from his wife, diseases attack him 
 
 under Captain Consumption; he rots away and 
 dies in sinful security, . . . .655 
 
 — XIX. Future happiness not to be hoped from a 
 
 quiet, hardened death. Some remarkable in¬ 
 stances, ...... 660 
 
 — XX. 'Without godly repentance, the wicked man’s 
 
 hopes and life die together. 
 
 663 
 
 
the LTFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 595 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN, 
 
 PBESKNTED TO THE WORLD IN 
 
 A FAMILIAR DIALOGUE BETWIXT MR. WISEMAN AND MR. ATTENTIVE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 [badman’s death and its awful consequences.] 
 
 Wiseman. Good morrow, my good neighbour, 
 Mr. Attentive; whither are you walking so early 
 this morning? Methinks you look as if you were 
 concerned about something more than ordinary. 
 Have ycu lost any of your cattle, or what is the 
 matter ? 
 
 Attentive, Good Sir, good morrow to you, I 
 have not as yet lost aught, hut yet you give a 
 right guess of me, for I am, as you say, concerned 
 in my heart, hut it is because of the badness of the 
 times. And, Sir, you, as all our neighbours know, 
 are a very observing man, pray, therefore, what do 
 you think of them? 
 
 Wise. Why, I think, as you say, to wit, that 
 they are bad times, and bad they will be, until men 
 are better; for they are bad men that make bad 
 times; if men, therefore, would mend, so would the 
 times. It is a folly to look for good days so long 
 as sin is so high, and those that study its nourish¬ 
 ment so many. God bring it down, and those that 
 nourish it, to repentance, and then, my good neigh¬ 
 bour, you will be concerned, not as you are now; 
 now you are concerned because times are so bad, 
 but then you will be so because times are so good; 
 now you are concerned so as to be perplexed, but 
 then you will be concerned so as to lift up your 
 voice with shouting, for I dare say, could you see 
 such days, they would make you shout. 
 
 so they would; such times I have 
 prayed for, such times I have longed for; but I 
 fear they will be worse before they be better. 
 
 Wise. Make no conclusions, man; for he that 
 bath the hearts of men in bis band can change 
 them from worse to better, and so bad times into 
 good. God give long life to them that are good, 
 and especially to those of them that are capable of 
 doing him service in the world. The ornament and 
 beauty of this lower world, next to God and his 
 wonders, are the men that spangle and shine in 
 godliness. 
 
 Aow as Mr. W iseman said this, he gave a "reat 
 
 • 1 o o 
 
 sigh. 
 
 Atten. Amen, amen. But why, good Sir, do 
 you sigh so deeply; is it for ought else than that 
 lor the which, as you have perceived, I myself am 
 concerned? 
 
 W ise. I am concerned, with yon, for the badness 
 of the times; but that was not the cause of that 
 
 sigh, of the which, as I see, you take notice. I 
 sighed at the remembrance of the death of that 
 man for whom the hell tolled at our town vesterday. 
 
 Atten. Why, I trow, Mr. Goodman your neigh¬ 
 bour is not dead. Indeed I did hear that he had 
 been sick. 
 
 Wise. No, no, it is not he. Had it been he, I 
 could not but have been concerned, but yet not as I 
 am concerned now. If he had died, I should only 
 have been concerned for that the world had lost a 
 light; but the man that I am concerned for now was 
 one that never was good, therefore such an one who 
 is not dead only, but damned. He died that he might 
 die, he went from life to death, and then from death 
 to death, from death natural to death eternal. And 
 as he spake this, the water stood in his eyes . * 1 
 
 Atten. Indeed, to go from a death-bed to hell is a 
 fearful thing to think on. But, good neighbour Wise¬ 
 man, be pleased to tell me who this man was, and 
 why you conclude him so miserable in his death ? 
 
 Wise. Well, if you can stay, I will tell you who 
 he was, and why I conclude thus concerning him. 
 
 Atten. My leisure will admit me to stay, and I 
 am willing to hear you out. And I pray God your 
 discourse may take hold on my heart, that I may 
 be bettered thereby. So they agreed to sit down 
 under a tree. Then Mr. Wiseman proceeded as 
 followeth: — 
 
 Wise. The man that I mean is one Mr. Bad- 
 man ; he has lived in our town a great while, and 
 now, as I said, ne is dead. But the reason of my 
 being so concerned at his death is, not for that he 
 was at all related to me, or for that any good con¬ 
 ditions died with him, for he was far from them, 
 but for that, as I greatly fear, he hath, as was 
 hinted.before, died two deaths at once. 
 
 Atten. I perceive what you mean by two deaths 
 at once; and to speak truth, it is a fearful thing 
 thus to have ground to think of any: for although 
 the death of the ungodly and sinners is laid to 
 heart but of few, yet to die in such a state is more 
 dreadful and fearful than any man can imagine. 
 Indeed if a man had no soul, if his state was not 
 truly immortal, the matter would not be so much; 
 but for a man to be so disposed of by his Maker, 
 
 1 * The unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God.’ 
 
 1 Co. vi. 9. Instead of Christ, the Prince of peace, being 
 theirs, the prince of the power of the air is theirs; instead of 
 the comforts of the gospel, the curses of the law are theirs; 
 instead of heaven, hell is theirs, and an exclusion from God 
 and happiness for ever! Sinner, think now on these things. 
 —(Mason.) 
 
596 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 as to be appointed a sensible being for ever, and 
 for him too to fall into the hands of revenging 
 justice, that vvill be always, to the utmost extre¬ 
 mity that his sin deserveth, punishing of him in 
 the dismal dungeon of hell, this must needs be 
 unutterably sad, and lamentable. 
 
 Wise. There is no man, I think, that is sens¬ 
 ible of the worth of one soul, but must, when lie 
 hears of the death of unconverted men, be stricken 
 with sorrow and grief: because, as you said well, 
 that man’s state is such that he has a sensible 
 being for ever. For it is sense that makes pun¬ 
 ishment heavy. But yet sense is not all that the 
 damned have, they have sense and reason too; so 
 then, as sense receiveth punishment with sorrow, 
 because it feels, and bleeds under the same, so by 
 reason, and the exercise thereof, in the midst of 
 torment, all present affliction is aggravated, and 
 
 that three manner of wavs:—1. Reason will con- 
 
 %/ 
 
 sider thus with himself. For what am I thus tor¬ 
 mented? and will easily find it is for nothing but 
 that base and filthy tiling, sin; and now will vexa¬ 
 tion be mixed with punishment, and that will 
 greatly heighten the affliction. 2. Reason will 
 consider thus with himself. How long must this 
 be my state? And will soon return to himself 
 this answer: This must be my state for ever and 
 ever. Now this will greatly increase the torment. 
 3. Reason will consider thus with himself. What 
 have I lost more than present ease and quiet by 
 my sins that I have committed? And will quickly 
 return himself this answer: I have lost communion 
 with God, Christ, saints, and angels, and a share 
 in heaven and eternal life: and this also must 
 needs greaten the misery of poor damned souls. 
 And this is the case of Mr. Badman. 
 
 Atten. I feel my heart even shake at the 
 thoughts of coming into such a state. Hell! who 
 knows that is yet alive, what the torments of hell 
 are ? This word hell gives a very dreadful sound. 
 
 Wise. Ay, so it does in the ears of him that has 
 a tender conscience. But if, as you say, and that 
 truly, the very name of hell is so dreadful, what is 
 the place itself, and what are the punishments that 
 are there inflicted, and that without the least in¬ 
 termission, upon the souls of damned men, for ever 
 and ever. 
 
 Atten. Well, but passing this ; my leisure will 
 admit me to stay, and therefore pray tell me what 
 it is that makes you think that Mr. Badman is 
 gone to hell. 
 
 Wise. I will tell you. But first, do you know 
 which of the Badmans I mean? 
 
 Atten. Why, was there more of them than one? 
 
 Wise. 0 yes, a great many, both brothers and 
 sisters, and yet all of them the children of a godly 
 parent, the more a great deal is the pity. 
 
 Atten. Which of them therefore was it that died? 
 
 Wise. The eldest, old in years, and old in sin; 
 but the sinner that dies an hundred years old shall 
 be accursed. 
 
 Atten. Well, but what makes you think he is 
 gone to hell? 
 
 Wise. His wicked life, and fearful death, espe¬ 
 cially since the manner of his death was so corre¬ 
 sponding with his life. I > 
 
 Atten. Pray let me know the manner of his 
 death, if yourself did perfectly know it. 
 
 Wise. I was there when he died; but I desire 
 not to see another such man, while I live, die in 
 such sort as he did. 
 
 Atten. Pray therefore let me hear it. 
 
 Wise. You sav you have leisure and can stay, 
 and therefore, if you please, we will discourse even 
 orderly of him. First, we will begin with his life, 
 and then proceed to his death: because a relation 
 of the first may the more affect you, when you 
 shall hear of the second. 
 
 Atten. Did you then so well know his life? 
 
 Wise. I knew him of a child. I was a man, 
 when he was but a boy, and 1 made special ob¬ 
 servation of him from first to last. 
 
 Atten. Pray then let me hear from you an ac¬ 
 count of his life; but be as brief as you can, for I 
 long to hear of the manner of his death. 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 [badman’s wicked beiiayiour in childhood.] 
 
 Wise. I will endeavour to answer your desires, 
 and first, I will tell vou, that from a child he was 
 very bad; his very beginning was ominous, and 
 presaged that no good end was, in likelihood, to 
 follow thereupon. There were several sins that 
 he was given to, when but a little one, that mani¬ 
 fested him to be notoriously infected with original 
 corruption; for I dare say he learned none of them 
 of his father and mother; nor was he admitted to 
 go much abroad among other children that w r ere 
 vile, to learn to sin of them: nay, contrariwise, if 
 at any time he did get abroad amongst others, he 
 would be as the inventor of bad words, and an ex¬ 
 ample in bad actions. To them all he used to be, 
 as w'e say, the ringleader, and master-sinner from 
 a child. 
 
 Atten. This was a bad beginning indeed, and 
 did demonstrate that he was, as you say, polluted, 
 very much polluted with original corruption. For 
 to speak my mind freely, I do confess Original sin is 
 that it is mine opinion that children tudtransVes- 
 como polluted with sin into the w r orld, slon - 
 and that ofttimes the sins of their youth, especially 
 while they are very young, are rather by virtue of 
 indwelling sin, than by examples that are set be¬ 
 fore them by others. Not but that they learn to 
 sin by example too, but example is not the root, 
 
CS7 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 but rather the temptation unto wickedness. The 
 root is sin within; ‘for from within, out of the 
 heart of men,’ proccedeth sin. Mar. vii. 21 . 
 
 Wise. I am glad to hear that you are of this 
 opinion, and to confirm what you have said by a 
 few hints from the Word. Man in his birth is 
 compared to an ass, an unclean beast, and to a 
 wretched infant in its blood. Job xi. 12. Eze. xvi. Be¬ 
 sides, all the first-born of old that were offered 
 unto the Lord, were to be redeemed at the age of 
 a month, and that was before they were sinners by 
 imitation. Ex. xiii. 13 ; xxxiv. 20 . The scripture also 
 affirmeth, that by the sin of one, judgment came 
 upon all; and renders this reason, ‘for that all 
 have sinned.’ no. v. 12 . Nor is that objection worth 
 a rush, that Christ by his death hath taken away 
 original sin. First. Because it is scriptureless. 
 Secondly. Because it makes them incapable of 
 salvation by Christ; for none but those that in 
 their own persons are sinners are to have salvation 
 by him. Many other things might he added, but 
 between persons so well agreed as you and I are, 
 these may suffice at present. But when an anta¬ 
 gonist comes to deal with us about this matter, 
 then we have for him olten other strong argu¬ 
 ments, if lie bo an antagonist worth the taking- 
 notice of. 
 
 Atten. But, as was hinted before, he used to 
 be the ring-leading sinner, or the master of mis¬ 
 chief among other children; yet these are but 
 generals; pray therefore tell me in particular 
 which were the sins of his childhood. 
 
 Wise. I will so. When he was but a child, he 
 Badman addict- ' VVaS S0 addicted to 3 o at his 
 ntm a*dmd“° P arei As scarce knew when to believe 
 he spake true; yea, he would invent, 
 tell, and stand to the lies that he invented and 
 
 told, and that with sucli an audacious face, that 
 one might even read in his very countenance the 
 symptoms of a hard and desperate heart this way. 
 
 Atten. This was an ill beginning indeed, and 
 argueth that he began to harden himself in sin 
 betimes. For a lie cannot be knowingly told and 
 stood in, and I perceive that this was his manner 
 of way in lying, hut he must as it were force his 
 own heart unto it. Yea, he must make his* 
 heart hard, and bold to do it. Yea, 
 lie must be arrived to an exceeding 
 
 , ra*!' mm .... Q 
 
 pitch of wickedness thus to do, since 
 nil this he did against that good edu¬ 
 cation, that before you seemed to hint lie had 
 from his father and mother. 
 
 * A lie knowing¬ 
 ly told demon¬ 
 strates that the 
 heart is despe¬ 
 rately hard. 
 
 A ise. The want of good education, as you have 
 intimated, is many times a cause why children do 
 so easily, so soon, become bad; especially when 
 there is not only a want of that, but bad examples 
 enough, as, the more is the pity, there is in many 
 families; by virtue of which poor children are 
 
 trained up in sin, and nursed therein for the devil 
 and hell. But it was otherwise with Mr. Badman, 
 for to my knowledge this his way of lying was a 
 great grief to his parents, for their hearts were 
 much dejected at this beginning of their son; nor 
 did there want counsel and correction from them 
 to him if that would have made him better. IIo 
 wanted not to be told, in my hearing, and that 
 over and over and over, that ‘ all liars The liar , 8 pur . 
 shall have their part in the lake which tion - 
 burneth with lire and brimstone;’ and that * who¬ 
 soever loveth and maketli a lie,’ should not have 
 any part in the new and heavenly Jerusalem. Be. 
 xxi. 8, 27 ; xxiL is. But all availed nothing with him; 
 when a lit, or an occasion to lie came upon him, 
 he would invent, tell, and stand to his lie as sted- 
 fastly as if it had been the biggest of truths that 
 lie told, and that with that hardening of his heart 
 and face, that it would be to those who stood by, 
 a wonder. Nay, and this he would do when under 
 the rod of correction, which is appointed by God 
 for parents to use, that thereby they might keep 
 their children from hell. r r . xxii. 15 ; xxiii. 13,14. 1 * * 
 
 s Atten. Truly it was, as I said, a bad begin¬ 
 ning, he served the devil betimes; yea, he became 
 nurse to one of his brats,* for a spirit * The devil > 3 
 of lying is the devil’s brat, ‘ for he is brat - 
 a liar and the father of it.’ jn. via. 44 . 
 
 Wise. Right, he is the father of it indeed. A 
 lie is begot by the devil as the father, and is 
 brought forth by the wicked heart as the mother; 
 wherefore another scripture also saith, ‘ Why hath 
 Satan filled thine heart to lie,’ &c. Ac. v. 3,4. Yea, 
 he calleth the heart that is big with a lie, an heart 
 that hath conceived, that is, by the devil. ‘ Why 
 hast thou conceived this thing in thine heart? thou 
 hast not lied unto men, but unto God.’ True, his 
 lie was a lie of the highest nature, hut every lie 
 hath the* same father and mother as * 
 had the lie iast spoken of. ‘For he and mother of 
 is a liar, and the father of it.’ A lie allu ‘ 
 then is the brat of hell, and it cannot he in the 
 heart t before the person has com- 
 
 ■* «L v » 1 
 
 mitted a kind of spiritual adultery with 
 
 the devil. That soul therefore that telleth a known 
 
 lie, has lien with, and conceived it by lying with 
 
 1 These Scriptures have often been perverted to justify the 
 
 most cruel punishments inflicted on helpless children. The 
 
 word ti-’-a, translated ‘ a rod/ is derived from the Hebrew 
 
 verb 4 to govern/ and, as a noun, signilies a sceptre, a pen, 
 or a staff, the emblems of government. Brutal punishments, 
 as practised in our army, navy, and schools, are not only in¬ 
 human and indecent, but have one direct tendency, that of 
 hardening the mind and instilling a vindictive ferocious dis¬ 
 position. After bringing up a very large family, who are a 
 blessing to their parents, I have yet to learn what part of the 
 human body was created to be beaten. There are infinitely 
 better modes of instructing, correcting, and governing children, 
 than that of bruising their flesh, or breaking their bouts, ur 
 even of a box ou the ear.—(Lu.) 
 
598 
 
 THE LIFE AND HEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 
 
 the devil, the only father of lies. For a lie has 
 only one father and mother, the devil and the 
 heart. No marvel therefore if the hearts that 
 hatch and bring forth lies he so much of com¬ 
 plexion with the devil. Yea, no marvel though 
 God and Christ have so bent their word against 
 liars. 1 A liar is wedded to the devil himself. 
 
 Atten. It seems a marvellous thing in Aiine 
 eyes, that since a lie is the offspring of the devil, 
 and since a lie brings the soul to the very den of 
 devils, to wit, the dark dungeon of hell, that men 
 should be so desperately wicked as to accustom 
 themselves to so horrible a thing. 
 
 Wise. It seems also marvellous to me, especially 
 when I observe for how little a matter some men 
 will study, contrive, make, and tell a lie. You 
 shall have some that will lie it over and over, and 
 that for a penny profit. Yea, lie and stand in it, 
 _ .... .. although they know that they lie. 
 
 lie for a penny Yea, you shall have some men that 
 piulit " will not stick to tell lie after lie, 
 
 though themselves get nothing thereby. They 
 will tell lies in their ordinary discourse with their 
 neighbours, also their news, their jests, and their 
 tales, must needs be adorned with lies ; or else 
 they seem to bear no good sound to the ear, nor 
 show much to the fancy of him to whom they are 
 told. But alas ! what will these liars do, when, 
 for their lies they shall be tumbled down into hell, 
 to that devil that did beget those lies in their 
 heart, and so be tormented by fire and brimstone, 
 with him, and that for ever and ever, for their 
 
 lies ? 
 
 Atten. Can you not give one some example of 
 God’s judgments upon liars, that one may tell 
 them to liars when one hears them lie, if perhaps 
 they may by the hearing thereof, be made afraid, 
 and ashamed to lie. 
 
 Wise. Examples! why, Ananias 2 and his wife 
 An example for are examples enough to put a stop, 
 liars< one would think, to a spirit addicted 
 
 thereto, for they both were stricken down dead for 
 telling a lie, and that by God himself, in the midst 
 of a company of people. Ac. v. But if God’s 
 threatening of liars with hell-fire, and with the 
 loss of the kingdom of heaven, will not prevail 
 with them to leave off to lie and make lies, it can¬ 
 not be imagined that a relation of temporal judg¬ 
 ments that have swept liars out of the world 
 heretofore, should do it. Now, as I said, this 
 lying was one of the first sins that Mr. Badman 
 
 1 Peculiarly awful are the denunciations of the Scriptures 
 against the crime of lying. The liar and the murderer are 
 joined together to receive the curse. * Thou shalt destroy them 
 that speak lies - the man of blood and of deceit are abhorred 
 of the Lord/ Ps. v. 6. 
 
 2 The lirst edition has ‘ Sapphira and his wife.’ It is not 
 noticed in the errata, but was corrected in the later copies.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 was addicted to, and he could make them and tell 
 them fearfully. 
 
 Atten. I am sorry to hear this of him, and so 
 much the more, because, as I fear, A spirit of lying 
 this sin did not reign in him alone ; ^compamed 
 for usually one that is accustomed to 
 lying, is also accustomed to other evils besides ; 
 and if it were not so also with Mr. Badman, it 
 
 would be indeed a wonder. 
 
 Wise. You say true, the liar is a captive slave 
 of more than the spirit of lying ; and therefore 
 this Mr. Badman, as he was a liar from a child, 
 so he was also much given to pilfer Badman given 
 and steal, so that what he could, as topdier. 
 we say, handsomely lay his hands on/ that was 
 counted his own, whether they were the things of 
 his fellow-children, or if he could lay hold of any¬ 
 thing at a neighbour’s house, he would take it 
 away ; you must understand me of trifles ; for 
 being yet but a child, he attempted no great 
 matter, especially at first. But yet as he grew up 
 in strength and ripeness of wit, so he attempted to 
 pilfer and steal things still of more value than at 
 first. He took at last great pleasure in robbing 
 of gardens and orchards ; and as he grew up, to 
 steal pullen 3 4 from the neighbourhood. Yea, what 
 was his father’s could not escape his Badman would 
 fingers, all was fish that came to his rob ins father. 
 
 net, so hardened, at last, was he in this mischief 
 also. 
 
 Atten. You make me wonder more and more. 
 What, play the thief too ! What, play the thief 
 so soon ! He could not but know, though he was 
 but a child, that what he toot from others was 
 none of his own. Besides, if his father was a 
 good man, as you say, it could not be but he 
 must also hear from him that to steal was to 
 transgress the law of God, and so to run the 
 hazard of eternal damnation. 
 
 Wise. His father was not wanting to use the 
 means to reclaim him, often urging, as I have been 
 told, that saying in the law of Moses, ‘ Thou shalt 
 not steal.’ Ex. xx. is. And also that, ‘This is the 
 curse that goeth forth over the face of the whole 
 earth ; for every one that stealeth shall be cut off, ’ 
 Ac. Zee. v. 3 . The light of nature also, though he was 
 little, must needs show him that what he took 
 from others was not his own ; and that he would 
 not willingly have been served so himself. But 
 all was to no purpose, let father and conscience 
 say what they would to him, he would go on, he 
 was resolved to go on in his wickedness. 
 
 3 The solemn importance of instilling right principles into 
 the mind, from the first dawn of reason, cannot be too strongly 
 enforced. Many a wretched midnight burglar commenced his 
 career of vice and folly by stealing fruit, followed by thieving 
 anything that he could handsomely. Pilfering, unless 
 severely checked, is a hotbed for the foulest crimes.— (Ed.) 
 
 4 Poultry.—(E d.) 
 
TIIE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR BADMAN. 
 
 599 
 
 Atten. But his father would, as you intimate, 
 sometimes rebuke him for his wickedness ; pray 
 how would he carry it then ? 
 
 Wise. How! why like to a thief that is found. 
 Je. ii. 26 . He would stand gloating, 1 and hanging 
 
 HowBadmandid down his head 111 a sullen > pouching 
 
 use to carrv it manner ; a body might read, as we 
 
 when his father J ° 
 
 used to chide used to say, the picture or ill-luck in 
 
 him for ins sins. y g f ace . an( j when his father did de¬ 
 mand his answer to such questions concerning his 
 villainy, he would grumble and mutter at him, and 
 that should he all he could get. 
 
 Atten. But you said that he would also rob his 
 father, methinks that was an unnatural thing. 
 
 Wise. Natural or unnatural, all is one to a thief. 
 Besides, you must think that he had likewise com¬ 
 panions to whom he was, for the wickedness that 
 „ , he saw in them, more firmly knit, than 
 
 Badinan more J T 
 
 firmly knit to either to father or mother. Yea, and 
 
 than°dther°to w ^ ia t had he cared if father and mo- 
 
 tfier er ° r m0 " ^ ier ^ iad died f° r g lde f f°r him. Their 
 
 death would have been, as he would 
 
 have counted, great release and liberty to him; 
 
 for the truth is, they and their counsel were his 
 
 bondage; yea, and if I forget not, I have heard 
 
 some say that when he was, at times, among his 
 
 Badman would companions he would greatly rejoice 
 
 rejoice to think to think that his parents were old, and 
 that his parents’ . . .. . 1 . . . . 
 
 death were at could not live long, and then, quoth he, 
 
 I shall be mine own man, to do what 
 
 I list, without their control. 
 
 Atten. Then it seems he counted that robbing 
 
 of his parents was no crime. 
 
 Wise. None at all; and therefore he fell directly 
 
 under that sentence, ‘ Whoso robbeth his father or 
 
 his mother, and saith it is no transgression, the 
 
 same is the companion of a destroyer.’ Pr. xxviii. 21. 
 
 And for that he set so light by them as to their 
 
 persons and counsels, it was a sign that at present 
 
 he was of a very abominable spirit, and that some 
 
 judgment waited to take hold of him in time to 
 
 come. ISa. ii.25. 
 
 Atten. But can you imagine what it was, I mean, 
 in his conceit, for I speak not now of the sugges¬ 
 tions of Satan, by which doubtless he was put on to 
 do these things; I say what it should be in his 
 conceit, that should make him think that this his 
 manner of pilfering and stealing was no great 
 matter. 
 
 Wise. It was for that the things that he stole 
 were small; to rob orchards, and gardens, and to 
 
 Badman counted steal P ullen > and the like, these he 
 ins thieving no counted tricks of youth, nor would he 
 
 great matter. . J 
 
 be beat out of it by all that his friends 
 could say. They would tell him that he must not 
 covet, or desire, and yet to desire is less than to 
 
 take, even anything, the least thing that was his 
 neighbour’s ; and that if he did, it would be a trans¬ 
 gression of the law; but all was one to him ; what 
 through the wicked talk of his companions, and 
 the delusion of his own corrupt heart, he would go 
 on in his pilfering course, and where he thought 
 himself secure, would talk of, and laugh at it when 
 he had done. 
 
 Atten. Well I heard a man once, when he was 
 upon the ladder with the rope about r ^ r 
 his neck, confess, when ready to be 
 turned off by the hangman, that that which had 
 brought him to that end was his accustoming of him¬ 
 self, when young, to pilfer and steal small things. 
 To my best remembrance he told us, that he began 
 the trade of a thief by stealing of pins and points 
 and therefore did forewarn all the youth that then 
 were gathered together to see him die, to take heed 
 of beginning, though but with little sins ; because 
 by tampering at first with little ones, way is made 
 for the commission of bigger. 2 3 
 
 Wise. Since you are entered upon The story of old 
 stories, I also will tell you one ; the Tod * 
 which, though I heard it not with mine own ears, 
 yet my author I dare believe. It is young thieves 
 concerning one old Tod, that was take n0tice - 
 hanged about twenty years ago, or more, at Hert¬ 
 ford, for being a thief. The story is this:—- 
 
 At a summer assizes holden at Hertford, while 
 the judge was sitting upon the bench, f 
 
 comes this old Tod into court, clothed 
 in a green suit, with his leathern girdle in his hand, 
 his bosom open, and all on a dung sweat, as if he 
 had run for his life ; and being come in, he spake 
 aloud as follows :—My lord, said he, 
 here is the veriest rogue that breathes his way to the 
 upon the face of the earth. I have jjj^'^orch" 
 been a thief from a child. When I 811,1 tlie 
 was but a little one, I gave myself to 
 rob orchards, and to do other such like wicked 
 things, and I have continued a thief ever since. 
 My lord, there has not been a robbery committed 
 these many years, within so many miles of this 
 place, but I have either been at it, or privy 
 to it. 
 
 The judge thought the fellow was mad, but after 
 some conference with some of the justices, they 
 agreed to indict him ; and so they did of several 
 felonious actions; to all which he heartily con- 
 
 2 Point, a tag or metal point fixed on the end of a lace. Fox 
 narrates that a martyr, brought to the stake in his shirt, took 
 a'point from his hose, and trussed in his shirt between his legs. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 3 ‘ Sin will at first, just like a beggar, crave 
 
 One penny or one halfpenny to have; 
 
 And if you grant its first suit, ’twill aspire 
 
 From peuce to pounds, and so will still mount higher 
 
 To the whole soul.’ 
 
 —Banyan’s Caution against Sin, vol. II., p. 575. 
 
 1 ‘ Gloating,’ stariug sulkily ; or with an evil eye— (Ed.) 
 
600 
 
 TILE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 lessee! guilty, and so was hanged, with his Avife at 
 the same time. 
 
 Atten. This is a remarkable story indeed, and 
 you think it is a true one. 
 
 V 
 
 Wise. It is not only remarkable, hut pat to out- 
 purpose. This thief, like Mr. Badman, began his 
 trade betimes; he began too where Mr. Badman 
 began, even at robbing of orchards, and other 
 such things, which brought him, as you may per¬ 
 ceive, from sin to sin, till at last it brought him to 
 the public shame of sin, which is the gallows. 
 
 As for the truth of this story, the relater told 
 me that lie was, at the same time, himself in the 
 court, and stood within less than two yards of old 
 Tod, when he heard him aloud to utter the words. 
 
 Atten. These two sins, of lying and stealing, 
 were a bad sign of an evil end. 
 
 Wise. So they were, and yet Mr. Badman came 
 not to his end like old Tod; though I fear to as 
 
 bad, nay, worse than was that death of the gallows, 
 though less discerned by spectators; but more of 
 that by and by. But you talk of these two sins 
 as if these were all that Mr. Badman was addicted 
 to in his youth. Alas, alas, he swarmed with sins, 
 even as a beggar does with vermin, and that when 
 he was but a boy. 
 
 Atten. Why, what other sins was he addicted 
 
 to, I mean while he was but a child ? 
 
 Wise. You need not ask to what other sins was 
 he, but to what other sins was he not addicted ; that 
 is, of such as suited with his age; for a man may 
 safely say that nothing that was vile came amiss to 
 him, if he was but capable to do it. Indeed, some 
 sins there be that childhood knows not how to be 
 tampering with; but I speak of sins that he was 
 capable of committing, of which I will nominate 
 two or three more. And, First, He could not en¬ 
 dure the Lord’s day, because of the 
 
 Badman could 1 .. . . . , . 
 
 not abide the holiness that did attend it; the be- 
 
 Lordsday. ginning of that day was to him as if 
 he was going to prison, except he could get out 
 from his father and mother, and lurk in by-holes 
 among his companions, until holy duties were over. 
 Reading the Scriptures, hearing sermons, godly 
 conference, repeating of sermons and prayers, were 
 things that he could not away with; and, there¬ 
 fore, if his father on such days, as often he did, 
 though sometimes, notwithstanding his diligence, 
 he would be sure to give him the slip, did keep 
 him strictly to the observation of the day, he would 
 plainly show, by all carriages, that he was highly 
 discontent therewith. He would sleep at duties, 
 would talk vainly with his brothers, and, as it were, 
 think every godly opportunity seven times as long 
 a3 it Avas, grudging till it was over. 
 
 Atten, This his abhorring of that day, Avas not, 
 I think, for the sake of the day itself; for as it is 
 a day, it is nothing else but as other days of the 
 
 week. But I suppose that the reason of his loath¬ 
 ing of it Avas for that God hath put sanctity and 
 holiness upon it; also, because it is the Batlmnn 
 
 day above all the days of the Aveok could not abide 
 , " . , .-Tii , • the Lord’s day. 
 
 that ought to be spent in holy devotion, 
 in remembrance of our Lord’s resurrection from 
 the dead. 
 
 Wise. Yes, it was therefore that he Avas such an 
 enemy to it; even because more restraint was laid 
 upon him on that day, from his oavii ways, than 
 were possible should be laid upon him on all others. 
 
 Atten. Doth not God, by instituting of a day 
 unto holy duties, make great proof Iioav the hearts 
 and inclinations of poor people do stand to holiness 
 of heart, and a conversation in holy duties? 
 
 Wise. Yes, doubtless; and a man shall show 
 his heart and his life what they are, more by one 
 Lord’s day than by all the days of God proves tlie 
 the week besides. And the reason 
 
 is, because on the Lord’s day there is of the Lord’s 
 
 .... , day,and setting 
 
 a special restraint laid upon men as to it apart to ins 
 
 thoughts and life, more than upon service ’ 
 
 other days of the week besides. Also, men are 
 
 enjoined on that day to a stricter performance of 
 
 holy duties, and restraint of worldly business, than 
 
 upon other days they arc ; wherefore, if their hearts 
 
 incline not naturally to good, iioav they Aviil show 
 
 it, iioav they Avill appear what they are. The Lord s 
 day is a kind of an emblem of the heavenly Sabbath 
 above, and it makes manifest hoiv the heart stands 
 to the perpetuity of holiness, more than to be found 
 in a transient duty does. 
 
 Oil other days, a man may be in and out of holy 
 duties, and all in a quarter of an hour; but now, 
 the Lord’s day is, as it were, a day that enjoins 
 to one perpetual duty of holiness. * Remember 
 that thou keep lioly the Sabbath day;’ which, by 
 Christ, is not abrogated, but changed, into the first 
 of the Aveek, not as it Avas given in particular to 
 the Jews, but as it Avas sanctified by him from the 
 beginning of the AVOrld; Ge. ii. 2 ; Ex. xxxi. 13-17; Mar. 
 xvi. 1; Ac. XX. 7 ; 1 Co. xvi. 1, 2 ; Mar. ii. 27, 28; Re. i. 10 ; and 
 
 therefore is a greater proof of the frame and temper 
 of a man’s heart, and does more make manifest to 
 Avhat he is inclined, than doth bis other performance 
 of duties. Therefore, God puts great difference 
 hetAA r een them that truly call, and Avalk in, this day 
 as holy, and count it honourable, upon the account 
 that now they have an opportunity to sIioav how 
 they delight to honour him; in that they have not 
 only an hour, but a Avhole day, to show it in. is. 
 lviii. 13 . I say, he puts great difference between 
 these, and that other sort that say, When Avill the 
 Sabbath be gone, that we may be at our worldly 
 business? Am. viii. 5. The first lie calletli a blessed 
 man, but brandetli the other for an unsanctified 
 worldling. And, indeed, to delight ourselves in 
 God’s service upon his holy days, gives a better 
 
601 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 proof of a sanctified nature than to grudge at the 
 coming, and to he weary of the holy duties of such 
 days, as Mr. Badman did. 1 
 
 Atten. There may he something in what you 
 say, for he that cannot abide to keep one day holy 
 to God, to be sure he hath given a sufficient proof 
 that lie is an unsanctified man; and, as such, what 
 should he do in heaven? That being the place 
 where a perpetual Sabbath is to be kept to God ; I 
 say, to be kept for ever and ever, ne.iv. 9 . And, for 
 ought I know, one reason why one day in seven 
 hath been by our Lord set apart unto holy duties 
 for men, may be to give them conviction that there 
 is enmity in the hearts of sinners to the God of 
 heaven, for he that hatetli holiness, liateth God 
 himself. They pretend to love God, and yet love 
 not a holy day, and yet love not to spend that day 
 in one continued act of holiness to the Lord. They 
 had as good say nothing as to call him Lord, 
 Lord, and yet not do the things that he says. And 
 this Mr. Badman was such a one, he could not 
 abide this day, nor any of the duties of it. Indeed, 
 
 How Badman when he COuld & et fr0m ^ is friends, 
 
 didusetospend and so spend it in all manner of idle- 
 ness and profaneness, then he would 
 be pleased well enough; but what was this but a 
 turning the day into night, or other than taking an 
 opportunity at God’s forbidding, to follow our 
 callings, to solace and satisfy our lusts and de¬ 
 lights of the flesh ? I take the liberty to speak 
 thus of Mr. Badman, upon a confidence of what 
 you, Sir, have said of him is true. 
 
 "Wise. You needed not to have made that apology 
 for your censuring of Mr. Badman, for all that 
 knew him will confirm what you say of him to be 
 true. He could not abide either that day, or any¬ 
 thing else that had the stamp or image of God 
 upon it. Sin, sin, and to do the thing that was 
 naught, was that which he delighted in, and that 
 from a little child. 
 
 Atten. I must say again 1 am sorry to hear it, 
 and that for his own sake, and also for the sake 
 of his relations, who must needs be broken to pieces 
 with such doings as these. For, for these things’ 
 sake comes the wrath of God upon the children of 
 disobedience. Ep. v. 6 . And, doubtless, he must be 
 gone to hell, if he died without repentance; and 
 
 to beget a child for hell is sad for parents to 
 think on. 
 
 UISE * Of his dying, as I told you, I will give you 
 a relation anon; but now we are upon his life, and 
 upon the manner of his life in his childhood, even 
 ol the sins that attended him then, some of which 
 1 have mentioned already; and, indeed, I have 
 
 mentioned but some, for yet there are more to 
 follow and those not at all inferior to what you 
 have already heard. 
 
 Atten. Pray what were they? 
 
 Wise. Why he was greatly given, and that while 
 a lad, to grievous swearing and cursing; Jea , ho 
 then made no more of swearing and 
 cursing than I do of telling my fingers. KLfS 
 lea, he would do it without provoca- cursin s- 
 tion thereto. He counted it a glory to swear and 
 curse, and it was as natural to him as to eat, and 
 drink, and sleep. 
 
 Atten. 0 what a young villain was this! Here 
 is, as the apostle says, a yielding of ‘members, as 
 instruments of unrighteousness unto sin,’ indeed! 
 Ro. vi. is. This is proceeding from evil to evil with 
 a witness. This argueth that he was a black¬ 
 mouthed young wretch indeed. 
 
 Wise. He was so; and yet, as I told you, lie 
 .he counted above all this kind of swearing a „ d 
 sinning to be a badge of his honour; cursing a badge 
 he leckoned himself a man’s fellow man’s honour, 
 when he had learned to swear and curse boldly. 
 
 Atten. I am persuaded that many do think as 
 you have said, that to swear is a thing that does 
 bravely become them, and that it is the best way 
 for a man, when he would put authority or terror 
 into his words, to stuff them full of the sin of 
 swearing;. 
 
 Wise. You say right, else, as I am persuaded, 
 men would not so usually belch out their blas¬ 
 phemous oaths as they do ; they take a pride in it; 
 they think that to swear is gentleman-like; and, 
 having once accustomed themselves unto it, they 
 hardly leave it all the days of their lives. 2 
 
 Atten. Well, but now we are upon it, pray 
 show me the difference between swear¬ 
 ing and cursing; for there is a differ- StswearbS 
 ence, is there not ? and cursin s- ° 
 
 Wise. Yes; there is a difference betu r een swear¬ 
 ing and cursing. Swearing, vain swearing, such 
 as young Badman accustomed himself W hat swearing 
 unto. Now, vain and sinful swearing * 3 * 
 is a light and wicked calling of God, <fec., to wit¬ 
 ness to our vain and foolish attesting of things, and 
 those things are of two sorts. 1. Things that we 
 swear, are or shall be done. 2. Things so sworn 
 to, true or false. 
 
 1. Things that we swear, are or shall be done. 
 Thou swearest thou hast done such a thing, that 
 such a thing is so, or shall be so; for it is no 
 matter which of these it is that men swear about, 
 if it be done lightly, and wickedly, and ground¬ 
 lessly, it is vain, because it is a sin against the 
 
 Clmstiau assemblies are the life, food, and nourishment of 
 our souls; consequently the forsaking of them, and the pro- 
 
 auatiou of the babbath, are usually the forerunners of apos- 
 tacy.—(Alason.) 1 
 
 VOL. HI. 
 
 * Profane swearers use the language of hell before they 
 arrive at their awful destination. Were God to answer their 
 imprecations they would be miserable beyond conception. ‘ De¬ 
 cause of swearing the laud mournelk.’—(E d.) 
 
 76 
 
602 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 third commandment, ■which says, * Thou shalt not 
 take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.’ Ex.xx.7. 
 For this is a vain using of that holy and sacred 
 name, and so a sin for which, without sound re¬ 
 pentance, there is not, nor can he rightly expected, 
 forgiveness. 
 
 Atten. Then it seems, though as to the matter 
 of fact, a man swears truly, yet if he 
 \Tswe™ing S to sweareth lightly and groundlessly, his 
 a truth * oath is evil, and he by it under sin. 
 
 Wise. Yes, a man may say, ‘The Lord liveth, 
 and that is true, and yet in so saying ‘swear 
 falsely;’ because he sweareth vainly, 
 VTeSLg't! needlessly, and without a ground. Je. 
 the truth. v To swear groundedly and neces¬ 
 sarily, which then a man does when he swears as 
 being called thereto of God, that is tolerated by 
 the Word. 1 But this was none of Mr. Badman’s 
 swearing, and therefore that which now we are 
 not concerned about. 
 
 Atten. I perceive by the prophet that a man 
 may sin in swearing to a truth. They therefore 
 must needs most horribly sin that swear to con¬ 
 firm their jests and lies; and, as they think, the 
 better to beautify their foolish talking. 
 
 Wise. They sin with a high hand ; for they 
 presume to imagine that God is as wicked as tliem- 
 TT , selves, to wit, that he is an avoucher 
 
 to a lie, con- 0 f lies to be true. For, as I said be- 
 is^wkked as fore, to swear is to call God to witness ; 
 himself. and to swear to a lie is to call God 
 to witness that that lie is true. This, therefore, 
 must needs offend; for it puts the highest affront 
 upon the holiness and righteousness of God, there 
 fore his wrath must sweep them away. Zee. v. 3. This 
 kind of swearing is put in with lying, and killing, 
 and stealing, and committing adultery; and there¬ 
 fore must not go unpunished. Je.vii.9; Ilo.iv. 2, 3. For 
 if God ‘ will not hold him guiltless that taketh his 
 name in vain,’ which a man may do when he swears 
 to a truth, as I have showed before, hoxv can it be 
 imagined that he should hold such guiltless, who, 
 by swearing, will appeal to God for lies that be 
 not true, or that swear out of their frantic and bed¬ 
 lam madness. It would grieve and provoke a 
 sober man to wrath, if one should swear to a no¬ 
 torious lie, and avouch that that man would attest it 
 for a truth ; and yet thus do men deal with the holy 
 God. They tell their jestings, tales, and lies, and 
 then swear by God that they are true. Now, this 
 kind of swearing was as common with young Bad- 
 
 man, as it was to eat when he was an hungered, 
 or to go to bed when it Avas night. 
 
 Atten. I have often mused in my mind, what it 
 should be that should make men so common in the 
 use of the sin of swearing, since those that be wise 
 Avill believe them ne\’er the sooner for that. 
 
 Wise. It cannot be anything that is good, you 
 may be sure; because the thing itself is abomin¬ 
 able. 1. Therefore it must be from S ix causes of 
 the promptings of the spirit of the vam swearing, 
 devil within them. 2. Also it flows sometimes 
 from hellish rage, when the tongue hath set on fire 
 of hell even the Avhole course of nature. Ja. m. c-9. 
 3. But commonly, sivearing flows from that daring 
 boldness that biddeth defiance to the law that for¬ 
 bids it. 4. Swearers think, also, that by their 
 belching of their blasphemous oaths out of their 
 black and polluted mouths, they sIioav themselves 
 the more valiant men. 5 . And imagine also, that 
 by these outrageous kind of villallies, they shall 
 conquer those that at such a time they have to do 
 with, and make them believe their lies to be true, 
 6. They also sivear frequently to get gain thereby, 
 and when they meet with fools they overcome them 
 this Avay. But if I might give advice in this 
 matter, no buver should lay out one farthing Avith 
 him that is a common SAvearer in his calling; es¬ 
 
 pecially Avith such an oath-master that endea- 
 voureth to swear away his commodity to another, 
 and that Avould sivear his chapman’s money into 
 his own pocket. 
 
 Atten. All these causes of swearing, so far as I 
 can perceive, floAv from the same root as do the oaths 
 themselves, even from a hardened and desperate 
 heart. But, pray, show me noiv how Avieked cursing 
 is to be distinguished from this kind of swearing*. 
 
 Wise. Swearing, as I said, hath immediately 
 
 to do Avith the name of God, and it calls upon him 
 
 to be witness to the truth of what is Row curshig . # 
 
 said; that is, if they that sivear, swear distinguished 
 ... -ij r • i i „ from swearing. 
 
 by lnm. Some, indeed, swear by idols, 
 as by the mass, by our lady, by saints, beasts, 
 birds, and other creatures ; 2 but the usual way of 
 our profane ones in England is to sivear by God, 
 Christ, faith, and the like. But, however, or by 
 whatever they swear, cursing is distinguished from 
 swearing thus. 
 
 To curse, to curse profanely, it is to sentence 
 another or ourself, for or to evil; or to Of cursing, what 
 wish that some evil might happen to 11 ls * 
 the person or thing under the curse unjustly. 
 
 1 Profane cursing and swearing was awfully fashionable in 
 Bunyan’s days. This led many pious persons to denounce 
 oaths altogether; and the time is fast coming when the world 
 will agree with the Quakers that an affirmation is the best test 
 of truth. It is like the controversy of the teetotallers; some 
 who would be ashamed of taking intoxicating liquors, except 
 as medicine, will soou threw such physics to the dogs or on 
 the dunghill.—(En.) 
 
 2 This is one of Bunyan’s home-thrusts at Popery. Class¬ 
 ing the mass, our lady-saints, and beasts, among the idols or 
 objects of divine worship. He omits an oath very common 
 among Irish labourers, which much puzzled me when a boy, 
 “ blootlunoons,” meaning the bleeding wounds of the Saviour. 
 IIow thankful ought we to be that, iu our days, profane swear¬ 
 ing stamps, upon any one who uses it, the character of a black¬ 
 guard.— (Ed.) 
 
THE LTFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 603 
 
 It is to sentence for or to evil, tliat is, without 
 ft cause. Tlius Shimei cursed David; he sen¬ 
 tenced him for and to evil unjustly, when he said 
 to him, ‘Come out, come out, thou bloody man, and 
 thou man of Belial. The Lord hath returned upon 
 thee all the blood of the house of Saul, in whose 
 stead thou hast reigned, and the Lord hath de¬ 
 livered the kingdom into the hand of Absalom thy 
 son; and, behold, thou art taUeu in thy mischief, 
 because thou art a bloody man.’ 2 s». xvi. 7 , s. 
 
 This David calls ‘a grievous curse.’ ‘And be¬ 
 hold,’ saith he to Solomon his son, ‘ thou hast with 
 thee Shimei, - a Benjamite, - which cursed me with 
 a grievous curse in the day when I went to Maha- 
 naim.’ 1 kl h. 8. 
 
 Lut what was this curse? Why, First, It was 
 a wrong sentence past upon David; Shimei called 
 y an, man ot Belial, when he was not. 
 Secondly, He sentenced him to the evil that at 
 present was upon him for being a bloody man, that 
 is, against the house of Saul, when that present 
 evil overtook David for quite another thing. And 
 we may thus apply it to the profane ones of our 
 times, who in their rage and envy have little else 
 
 Fnw the profane m their mouths but a sentence against 
 
 one> of our times their neighbour for and to evil un- 
 curse* ^ ' v *** 
 
 justly. How common is it with many, 
 when they are but a little offended with one, to 
 cry, Hang him, Damn him, Rogue! This is both 
 a sentencing of him for and to evil, and is in itself 
 a grievous curse. 
 
 2. The other kind of cursing is to wish that 
 some evil might happen to, and overtake this or 
 that person or thing. And this kind of cursing 
 Job counted a grievous sin. ‘Neither have I suf¬ 
 fered (says he) my mouth to sin by wishing a curse 
 to his soul;’ or consequently to body or estate. 
 Job xxxi. 30. This then is a wicked cursing-, to wish 
 that evil might either befall another or ourselves. 
 And this kind of cursing young Badman accustomed 
 himself unto. 1. He would wish that evil miarlit 
 Eadman’s way befallothers; lie wouldwish their necks 
 
 broken, or that their brains were out, 
 or that the pox or plague was upon them, and the 
 like ; all which is a devilish kind of cursing, and is 
 become one of the common sins of our age. 2. He 
 would also as often wish a curse to himself, say¬ 
 ing, A\ ould I might be hanged, or burned, or that 
 the devil might fetch me, if it be not so, or the like. 
 The Damn-me- We count the Damn-me-blades to be 
 Ue " great swearers, but when in their hellish 
 furv they say, God damn me, God perish me, or 
 the like, they rather curse than swear; yea, curse 
 themselves, and that with a wish that damnation 
 might light upon themselves; which wish and curse 
 ot theirs in a little time they will see accomplished 
 upon them, even in hell fire, if they repent them 
 not of their sins. 
 
 # -A-Tten - . But did this young Badman accustom 
 himself to such filthy kind of language? 
 
 Wise. I think I may say that nothing was more 
 frequent, in his mouth, and that upon the least 
 provocation. Yea, he was so versed in such kind 
 
 of language, that neither father, nor 
 mother, nor brother, nor sister, nor curse his fa- 
 servant, no, nor the very cattle that ther,&c ' 
 his father had, could escape these curses of his. I 
 say that even the brute beasts, when he drove them 
 or rid upon them, if they pleased not „ , 
 
 1 • -i , Badman would 
 
 lus humour, they must be sure to par- curse his fa- 
 
 take of his curse. He would wish their tliu s cattle ' 
 
 necks broke, their legs broke, their guts out, or 
 
 that the devil might fetch them, or the like ; and 
 
 no marvel, for he that is so hardv to wish damna- 
 # «/ 
 
 tion or other bad curses to himself, or dearest re¬ 
 lations, will not stick to wish evil to the silly beast 
 in his madness. 
 
 Atten, Well, I see still that this Badman was a 
 desperate villain. But pray, Sir, since you have 
 gone thus far, now show me whence this evil of 
 cursing ariseth, and also wdiat dishonour it bring- 
 eth to God ; for I easily discern that it doth bring 
 damnation to the soul. 
 
 Wise. This evil of cursing ariseth in general 
 from the desperate wickedness of the heart, but 
 particularly from, 1. Envy, which is, as I appre¬ 
 hend, the leading sin to witchcraft. Four causes of 
 2. It also ariseth from pride, which cursmg. 
 was the sin of the fallen angels. 3. It ariseth too, 
 from scorn and contempt of others. 4. But for a 
 man to curse himself, must needs arise from des¬ 
 perate madness. Job. xv. Ec. vii. 22. 
 
 The dishonour that it bringeth to God is this. 
 It taketh away from him his authority, T he dishonour it 
 in whose power it is only to bless and brin ° s t0 God - 
 curse; not to curse wickedly, as Mr. Badman, 
 but justly and righteously, giving by his curse, 
 to those that are wicked, the due reward of their 
 deeds. 
 
 Besides, these wicked men, in their wicked 
 cursing of their neighbour, &c., do even curse God 
 himself in his handiwork. Ja. m. 9. Man is God’s 
 image, and to curse wickedly the image of God is 
 to curse God himself. Therefore as when men 
 wickedly swear, they rend, and tear God’s name, 
 and make him, as much as in them lies, the 
 avoucher and approver of all their wickedness; so 
 he that curseth and condemneth in this sort his 
 neighbour, or that wishcth him evil, curseth, con¬ 
 demneth, and wisheth evil to the image of God, 
 and, consequently judgeth and condemneth God 
 himself. Suppose that a man should say with his 
 mouth, I wish that the king’s picture was burned; 
 would not this man’s so saying render him as an 
 enemy to the person of the king? Even so it is 
 with them that, by cursing, wish evil to their 
 
604 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MIL BADMAN. 
 
 neighbour, or to themselves, they contemn the 
 image, even the image of God himself. 
 
 Atten. But do you think that the men that do 
 thus, do think that they do so vilely, so abomin¬ 
 ably? 
 
 Wise. The question is not what men do believe 
 concerning their sin, but what God’s Word says of 
 it. If God’s Word says that swearing and cursing 
 are sins, though men should count them for vir¬ 
 tues, their reward will be a reward for sin, to wit, 
 the damnation of the soul. To curse another, and 
 Swearing and to swear vainly and falsely, are sms 
 against are the against the light of nature. 1. To 
 light of nature. curS e is so, because whoso curseth 
 
 another, knows that at the same time he would 
 not be so served himself. 2. To swear also is a 
 sin against the same law; for nature will tell me 
 that I should not lie, and therefore much less 
 swear to confirm it. Yea, the heathens have looked 
 upon swearing to be a solemn ordinance of God, 
 and therefore not to be lightly or vainly used by 
 men, though to confirm a matter of truth. Ge. 
 xxxi. 43—55, 
 
 that swear and 
 curse. 
 
 Atten. But I wonder, since cursing and swear¬ 
 ing are such evils in the eyes of God, that he doth 
 not make some examples to others, for their com¬ 
 mitting such wickedness. 
 
 Wise. Alas! so he has, a thousand times twice 
 told, as may be easily gathered by any observing 
 people in every age and country. I could present 
 you with several myself; but waving the abun¬ 
 dance that might be mentioned, I will here present 
 ■r, , . you with two. One was that dreadful 
 
 God’s auger judgment of God upon one N. P. at 
 
 &££ciinst them ttt. i i j. • i /», 
 
 Wimbleton in Surrey; who, after a 
 horrible fit of swearing at and cursing 
 of some persons that did not please 
 him, suddenly fell sick, and in little 
 time died raving, cursing, and swearing. 
 
 But above all, take that dreadful story of 
 Dorothy Mately, an inhabitant of Asliover, in the 
 county of Derby. This Dorothy Mately, saith the 
 relater, was noted by the people of 
 J the town to be a great swearer, and 
 
 curser, and liar, and thief; just like Mr. Badman. 
 And the labour that she did usually follow was to 
 wash the rubbish that came forth of the lead 
 mines, and there to get sparks of lead ore; and 
 her usual way of asserting of things was with 
 these kind of imprecations; I would I might sink 
 into the earth if it be not so; or, I would God 
 would make the earth open and swallow me up. 
 Now upon the 23d of March, 1660, this Dorothy 
 was washing of ore upon the top of a steep hill, 
 about a quarter of a mile from Ashover, and was 
 there taxed by a lad for taking of two single pence 
 out of his pocket, for he had laid his breeches by, 
 and was at work in his drawers; but she violently 
 
 denied it; wishing that the ground might swallow 
 her up if she had them; she also used the same 
 wicked words on several other occasions that day. 
 
 Now one George Hodgkinson, of Ashover, a 
 man of good report there, came accidentally by 
 where this Dorothy was, and stood still awhile to 
 talk with her, as she was washing her ore; there 
 stood also a little child by her tub-side, and another 
 a distance from her, calling aloud to her to come 
 away; wherefore the said George took the girl by 
 the hand to lead her away to her that called her: 
 but behold, they had not gone above ten yards 
 from Dorothy, but they heard her crying out for 
 help; so looking back, he saw the woman, and 
 her tub, and sieve twirling round, and sinking into 
 the ground. Then said the man, Pray to God to 
 pardon thy sin, for thou are never like to be seen 
 alive any longer. So she and her tub twirled 
 round and round, till they sunk about three yards 
 into the earth, and then for a while staid. Then 
 she called for help again; thinking, as she said, 
 she should stay there. Now the man, though 
 greatly amazed, did begin to think which way to 
 help her; but immediately a great stone which 
 appeared in the earth, fell upon her head, and 
 broke her skull, and then the earth fell in upon 
 her, and covered her. She was afterwards digged 
 up, and found about four yards within ground, 
 with the boy’s two single pence in her pocket, but 
 her tub and sieve could not be found. 
 
 Atten. You bring to my mind a ryr 
 sad story, the which I will relate unto 
 you. The thing is this:—About a bow-shot from 
 where I once dwelt, there was a blind ale-house, 1 
 and the man that kept it had a son, whose name 
 was Edward. This Edward was, as it were, a 
 half fool, both in his words and manner of be¬ 
 haviour. To this blind ale-house certain jovial 
 companions would once or twice a week come, and 
 this Ned, for so they called him, his father would 
 entertain his guests withal; to wit, by calling 
 for him to make them sport by his foolish words 
 and gestures. So when these boon blades came 
 to this man’s house, the father would call for Ned. 
 Ned, therefore, would come forth; and the villain 
 was devilishly addicted to cursing, yea, to cursing 
 his father and mother, and any one else that did 
 cross him. And because, though he was a half 
 fool, he saw that his practice was pleasing, he 
 would do it with the more audaciousness. 
 
 Well, when these brave fellows did come at 
 their times to this tippling-house, as they call it, 
 to fuddle and make merry, then must Ned be called 
 out; and because his father was best acquainted 
 with Ned, and best knew how to provoke him, 
 
 1 Out of public view—obscure, contemptible. See Imperial 
 Dictionary. —(Ed.) 
 
TIIE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 605 
 
 therefore he would usually ask him such questions, 
 or command him such business, as would be sure 
 to provoke him indeed. Then would he, after his 
 foolish manner, curse his father most bitterly; at 
 which the old man would laugh, and so would the 
 rest of the guests, as at that which pleased them 
 best, still continuing to ask that Ned still might 
 be provoked to curse, that they might still be pro¬ 
 voked to laugh. This was the mirth with which 
 the old man did use to entertain his guests. 
 
 The curses wherewith this Ned did use to curse 
 his father, and at which the old man would laugh, 
 were these, and such like; the devil take you— 
 the devil fetch you; he would also wish him plagues 
 and destructions many. Well, so it came to pass, 
 through the righteous judgment of God, that Ned’s 
 wishes and curses were in a little time fulfilled upon 
 his father; for not many months passed between 
 them after this manner, but the devil did indeed 
 take him, possess him, and also in a few days car¬ 
 ried him out of this world by death ; I say Satan 
 did take him and possess him; I mean, so it was 
 judged by those that knew him, and had to do with 
 him in that his lamentable condition. He could 
 feel him like a live thing go up and down in his 
 body; but when tormenting time was come, as he 
 had often tormenting fits, then he would lie like an 
 hard bump in the soft place of his chest, I mean I 
 saw it so, and so would rent and tear him, and make 
 him roar till he died away. 
 
 I told you before that I was an ear and eye-wit¬ 
 ness of what I here say; and so I was. I have 
 heard Ned in his roguery cursing his father, and 
 his father laughing thereat most heartily ; still 
 provoking of Ned to curse, that his mirth might 
 be increased. I saw his father also, when he was 
 possessed, I saw him in one of his fits, and saw his 
 flesh, as it was thought, by the devil gathered up 
 on a heap, about the bigness of half an egg, to the 
 unutterable torture and affliction of the old man. 
 There was also one Freeman, who was more than 
 an ordinary doctor, sent for, to cast out this devil; 
 and 1 was there when he attempted to do it; the 
 manner thereof was this;—They had the possessed 
 into an out-roorn, and laid him on his belly upon a 
 form, with his head hanging over the form’s end. 
 Then they bound him down thereto; which done, 
 they set a pan of coals under his mouth, and put 
 something therein which made a great smoke; by 
 this means, as it was said, to fetch out the devil. 
 There, therefore, they kept the man till he was 
 almost smothered in the smoke, but no devil came 
 out of him ; at which Freeman was somewhat 
 abashed, the man greatly afflicted, and I made to 
 go away wondering and fearing. 1 In a little time, 
 
 1 lhank Heaven such enormous brutalities have tied before 
 the benign enlightening influence of the gospel. To suffocate 
 a man, in order to drive out an imaginary evil spirit, was like 
 
 therefore, that which possessed the man, carried 
 him out of the world, according to the cursed 
 wishes of his son. And this was the end of this 
 hellish mirth. 
 
 Wise. These were all sad judgments. 
 
 Atten. These were dreadful judgments indeed. 
 
 Wise. Ay, and they look like the threatening of 
 that text, though chiefly it concerned Judas, ‘As 
 he loved cursing, so let it come unto him; as he 
 delighteth not in blessing, so let it be far from him. 
 As he clothed himself with cursing, like as with a 
 garment, so let it come into his bowels like water, 
 and like oil into his bones.’ Ps. cix. 17, 18 . 
 
 Atten. It is a fearful thing for youth to be 
 trained up in a way of cursing and swearing. 
 
 Wise. Trained up in them! that I cannot say 
 Mr. Badrnan was, for his father hath ofttimes in 
 my hearing bewailed the badness of his children, 
 and of this naughty boy in particular. I believe 
 that the wickedness of his children made him, in 
 the thoughts of it, go many a night with heavy- 
 heart to bed, and with as heavy a one to rise in the 
 morning. But all was one to his graceless son, 
 neither wholesome counsel, nor fatherly sorrow, 
 would make him mend his manners. 
 
 There are some indeed that do train up their chil¬ 
 dren to swear, curse, lie, and steal, 4 . 
 
 . . ’ A grievous thing 
 
 and great is the misery of such poor tobringupchii- 
 children whose hard hap it is to be dlcnwitked b- 
 ushered into the world by, and to be under the 
 tuition too of such ungodly parents. It had been 
 better for such parents had they not begat them, 
 and better for such children had they not been 
 born. 0! methinks for a father or a mother to 
 train up a child in that very way that leadeth to 
 hell and damnation, what thing so horrible! But 
 Mr. Badrnan was not by his parents so brought up. 
 
 Atten. But methinks, since this young Badrnan 
 would not be ruled at home, his father should have 
 tried what good could have been done of him abroad, 
 by putting him out to some man of his acquaint¬ 
 ance, that he knew to be able to command him, and 
 to keep him pretty hard to some employ; so should 
 he, at least, have been prevented of time to do those 
 wickednesses that could not be done without time 
 to do them in. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 [badman’s apprenticeship to a pious master.] 
 
 Wise. Alas! his father did so; he put him out 
 betimes to one of his own acquaintance, 15 uIanu t to 
 and entreated him of all love that he be an appren- 
 would take care of his son, and keep 
 
 the popular trial for witchcraft. The poor woman, if cross, and 
 old, and ugly, her hands and legs being tied together, was 
 thrown into deep water; if she floated, it was a proof of guilt 
 to hang her, if she sunk and was drowned, she was declared 
 to he innocent!!—(E d.) 
 
GOG 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BA DM AN. 
 
 him from extravagant wavs. His trade also was 
 honest and commodious ; he had besides a full em¬ 
 ploy therein, so that this young Badman had no 
 vacant seasons nor idle hours yielded him by his 
 calling, therein to take opportunities to do badly; 
 but all was one to him, as he had begun to be vile 
 in his father’s house, even so he continued to be 
 when he was in the house of his master. 
 
 Atten. I have known some children, who, though 
 they have been very bad at home, yet have altered 
 much when they have been put out abroad; espe¬ 
 cially when they have fallen into a family where 
 the governors thereof have made conscience of 
 maintaining of the worship and service of God 
 therein; but perhaps that might be wanting in 
 Mr. Badman’s master’s house. 
 
 Wise. Indeed some children do greatly mend 
 when put under other men’s roofs; but, as I said, 
 this naughty boy did not so; nor did his badness 
 continue because he wanted a master that both 
 v t, , could and did correct it. Bor his 
 
 YoungBaaman s 
 
 master and his master was a very good man, a very 
 qualifications. •, , c . 1 
 
 devout person ; one that frequented 
 the best soul means, that set up the worship of God 
 in his family, and also that walked himself there¬ 
 after. lie was also a man very meek and merci¬ 
 ful, one that did never over-drive young Badman in 
 business, nor that kept him at it at unseasonable 
 hours. 
 
 Atten. Say you so! This is rare. I for my 
 part can see but few that can parallel, in these 
 things, with Mr. Badman’s master. 
 
 O 7 
 
 Wise. Nor I neither, yet Mr. Badman had such 
 a bad master a an one ; for, for the most part, mas- 
 
 bad thing. t ers are now-a-days such as mind 
 
 nothing but their worldly concerns, and if appren¬ 
 tices do but answer their commands therein, soul 
 and religion may go whither they will. Yea, I 
 much fear that there have been many towardly lads 
 put out by their parents to such masters, that have 
 quite undone them as to the next world. 
 
 Atten. The more is the pity. But, pray, now 
 you have touched upon this subject, show me how 
 many ways a master may be the ruin of his poor 
 apprentice. 
 
 Wise. Nay, I cannot tell you of all the ways, 
 yet some of them I will mention. Suppose, then, 
 that a towardly lad be put to be an apprentice with 
 one that is reputed to be a godly man, yet that lad 
 may be ruined many ways; that is, if his master 
 be not circumspect in all things that respect both 
 God and man, and that before his apprentice. 
 
 1. If he be not moderate in the use of his ap- 
 How many ways prentice; if he drives him beyond his 
 be^thendn^of strength; if he holds him to work at 
 an apprentice, unseasonable hours; if he will not allow 
 him convenient time to read the Word, to pray, &c. 
 This is the way to destroy him; that is, in those 
 
 tender beginnings of good thoughts, and good be¬ 
 ginnings about spiritual things. 
 
 2. If he suffers his house to be scattered with 
 profane and wicked books, such as stir up to lust, 
 to wantonness, such as teach idle, wanton, lascivi¬ 
 ous discourse, and such as have a tendency to pro¬ 
 voke to profane drollery and jesting; and lastly, 
 such as tend to corrupt and pervert the doctrine of 
 faith and holiness. All these things will eat as 
 doth a canker, and will quickly spoil, in youth, &c. 
 those good beginnings that may be putting forth 
 themselves in them. 
 
 3. If there be a mixture of servants, that is, if 
 some very bad be in the same place, that is a way 
 also to undo such tender lads; for they that are 
 bad and sordid servants will be often, and they 
 have an opportunity too, to be distilling and 
 fomenting of their profane and wicked words and 
 tricks before them, and these will easily stick in 
 the flesh and minds of youth, to the corrupting of 
 them. 
 
 4. If the master have one guise for abroad, and 
 another for home; that is, if his religion hangs by 
 in his house as his cloak does, and he be seldom in 
 it, except he be abroad; this young children are 
 beginners will take notice of, and fer^of °what 
 stumble at. We say, hedges have older folks do. 
 
 eyes, and little pitchers have ears j 1 and, indeed, 
 children make a greater inspection into the lives of 
 fathers, masters, &c., than ofttimes they are aware 
 of. And therefore should masters be careful, else 
 they may soon destroy good beginnings in their 
 servants. 
 
 5 . If the master be unconscionable in his deal¬ 
 ing, and trades with lying words; or if bad com¬ 
 modities be avouched to be good, or if he seeks 
 after unreasonable gain, or the like ; his servant 
 sees it, and it is enough to undo him. Eli’s sons 
 being bad before the congregation, made men des¬ 
 pise the sacrifices of the Lord, l Sa. ii. 
 
 But these things, by the by, only they may serve 
 for a hint to masters to take heed that they take 
 not apprentices to destroy their souls. But young 
 Badman had none of these hinder- Badman ]iad alJ 
 ances ; his father took care, and pro- advantages^ to 
 vided well for him, as to this. He had continuedBad- 
 a good master, he wanted not good mausti11 * 
 books, nor good instruction, nor good sermons, nor 
 good examples, no nor good fellow-servants neither; 
 but all would not do. 
 
 1 Parallels to these important proverbs are found in all 
 languages derived from the Hebrew. ‘ There is nothing hid 
 from God,’ and * There is nothing hid that shall not be known.’ 
 Je. xxxii. Mat. x. In French, ‘ Leo murailles ont des oreilles 
 —Walls have ears.’ Shakspeare, alluding to a servant bring¬ 
 ing in a pitcher, as a pretence to enable her to overhear a 
 conversation, uses the proverb, ‘ pitehcrs have ears and I have 
 many servants.’ May that solemn truth be impressed upon 
 every heart, that however screened from human observation, 
 > ‘ Thou God seest me.’ —(Ed.) 
 
THE LIFE ANT) DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 607 
 
 Atten. It is a wonder that in such a family, 
 amidst so many spiritual helps, nothing should take 
 hold of his heart! What! not good hooks, nor 
 good instructions, nor good sermons, nor good ex¬ 
 amples, nor good fellow-servants, nor nothing do 
 him good! 
 
 Wise. You talk, he minded none of these things; 
 All food things na J’ ad ^ iese were abominable to him. 
 h idruan ble *° ^ or £ ood kooks, they might lie in 
 
 his master’s house till they rotted for 
 him, he would not regard to look into them; but 
 contrariwise, would get all the bad and abominable 
 books that he could, as beastly romances, and books 
 full of ribaldry, even such as immediately tended 
 to set all fleshly lusts on fire. 1 True, ho durst not 
 be known to have any of these to his master; there¬ 
 fore would he never let them be seen by him, but 
 would keep them in close places, and peruse them 
 at such times as yielded him fit opportunities 
 thereto. 
 
 2. For good instruction, he liked that much as 
 he liked good books ; his care was to hear but 
 little thereof, and to forget Avhat he heard as soon 
 as it was spoken. Yea, I have heard some that 
 knew him then say, that one might evidently dis¬ 
 cern by the show of his countenance and gestures 
 
 Good counsel to tliat S ood counsel was to him like 
 Badman like little ease, even a continual torment 
 
 to him ; nor did he ever count himself 
 at liberty but when farthest off of wholesome words. 
 Pr. xv. 12 . He would hate them that rebuked him, 
 and count them his deadly enemies. Pr. ix. 8. 
 
 3. For good example, which was frequently set 
 him by his master, both in religious and civil 
 matters, these young Badman would laugh at, 
 and would also make a by-word of them when he 
 came in place where he with safety could. 
 
 4. His master indeed would make him go with 
 
 him to sermons, and that where he thought the 
 
 best preachers were, but this ungodly young man, 
 
 what shall I say, was, I think, a master of art in all 
 
 mischief, he had these wicked ways tohinder himself 
 
 of hearing, let the preacher thunder never so loud. 
 
 How Badman 1. Ilis way was, when come into the 
 used to behave i * i • , ., 
 
 himself at ser- place ot hearing, to sit down in some 
 
 m°ns. corner and then to fall fast asleep. 
 
 2. Or else to fix his adulterous eyes upon some 
 
 beautiful object that was in the place, and so all 
 
 sermon-while therewith to be feeding of his fleshly 
 
 lusts. 3. Or, if he could get near to some that 
 
 he had observed would fit his humour, he would 
 
 be whispering, giggling, and playing with them 
 
 till such time as sermon was done. 
 
 words of onell.S., 
 who once was my 
 companion. lie 
 was own brother 
 to Ned, of whom 
 you read before. 
 
 No period in English history was so notorious for the 
 publication of immoral books, calculated to debauch the mind, 
 as the reign ot Charles II. It must have been most painfully 
 conspicuous to Banyan, who had lived under the moral discipline 
 ot the Commonwealth. —(Ed.) 
 
 Atten. Why! he was grown to a prodigious 
 height of wickedness. 
 
 Wise. He was so, and that which a<r<mivates all 
 was, this was his practice as soon as he was come 
 to his master—he was as ready at all these things 
 as if he had, before he came to his master, served 
 an apprenticeship to learn them. 
 
 Atten. There could not hut be added, as you 
 relate them, rebellion to his sin. Methinks it is as 
 if he had said, I will not hear, I will not regard, 
 I will not mind good, I will not mend, I will not 
 turn, I will not be converted. 
 
 Wise. You say true, and I know not to whom 
 more fitly to compare him than to T]ie desperate 
 that man who, when I myself re¬ 
 buked him or his wickedness, in 
 this great huff replied, What would 
 the devil do for company if it was 
 not for such as I ? 
 
 Atten. Why, did you ever hear 
 any man say so? 
 
 Wise. Yes, that I did, and this young Badman 
 was as like him as an egg is like an egg. Alas! 
 the Scripture makes mention of many that by their 
 actions speak the same, ‘They say unto God, 
 Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge 
 of thy ways.’ Jobxxi. 14. Again, ‘ They refused to 
 hearken, and pulled away the shoulder, and stopped 
 their ears. Yea, they make their hearts ’ hard ‘ as 
 an adamant-stone, lest they should hear the law, 
 and the words which the Lord of hosts hath sent.’ 
 Zee. vii. 11 , 12 . What are all these but such as Bad¬ 
 man, and such as the young man but now men¬ 
 tioned ? That young man was my play-fellow 
 when I was solacing myself in my sins; I may 
 make mention of him to my shame, but he has a 
 great many fellows. 
 
 Atten. Young Badman was like him indeed, and 
 he trod his steps as if his wickedness had been 
 his very copy; I mean as to his desperateness, 
 for had he not been a desperate one he would never 
 have made you such a reply when you was rebuking 
 of him for his sin. But when did you give him 
 such a rebuke? 
 
 Wise. A while after God had parted him and I, 
 by calling of me, as I hope, by his grace, still 
 leaving him in his sins; and so far as I could ever 
 gather, as he lived, so he died, even as Mr. Bad¬ 
 man did; but we will leave him and return again 
 to our discourse. 
 
 Atten. Ha! poor obstinate sinners! Do they 
 think that God cannot be even with them? 
 
 Wise. I do not know what they think, but I 
 know that God hath said, ‘ That as lie cried, and 
 they would not hear; so they cried and I would 
 not hear, saith the Lord.* Zee. vii. 13. Doubtless 
 there is a time coming when Mr. Badman will cry 
 for this. 
 
608 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 Atten. But I wonder that lie should be so expert 
 in wickedness so soon! Alas, he was hut a strip¬ 
 ling, I suppose he was as yet not twenty. 
 
 Wise. No, nor eighteen either; hut, as with 
 Ishmael, and with the children that mocked the 
 prophet, the seeds of sin did put forth themselves 
 betimes in him. Ge. xxl 9 , 10. 2 Ki. ii. 23, 24. 
 
 Atten. Well, he was as wicked a young man as 
 commonly one shall hear of. 
 
 Wise. You will say so when you know all. 
 
 Atten. All, I think, here is a great all; hut if 
 there is more behind, pray let us hear it. 
 
 Wise. Why then, I will tell you, that he had 
 not been with his master much above a year and 
 Badman’s ac- a. half, but he came acquainted with 
 quaintance. three young villains, who here shall 
 
 be nameless, that taught him to add to his sin 
 much of like kind, and he as aptly received their 
 instructions. One of them was chiefly given to 
 uncleanness, another to drunkenness, and the third 
 to purloining, or stealing from his master. 
 
 Atten. Alas! poor wretch, he was bad enough 
 before, but these, I suppose, made him much 
 worse. 
 
 Wise. That they made him worse you may be 
 sure of, for they taught him to be an arch, a chief 
 one in all their ways. 
 
 Atten. It was an ill hap that he ever came 
 acquainted with them. 
 
 Wise. You must rather word it thus—it was 
 the judgment of God that he did, that is, he came 
 A sign of God’s acquainted with them through the 
 
 an g er * anger of God. He had a good mas¬ 
 ter, and before him a good father; by these he 
 had good counsel given him for months and years 
 together, but his heart was set upon mischief, he 
 loved wickedness more than to do good, even until 
 his iniquity came to he hateful, therefore, from 
 the anger of God it was that these companions of 
 his and he did at last so acquaint together. Says 
 Paul, ‘ They did not like to retain God in their 
 knowledge;’ and what follows? wherefore ‘God 
 gave them over,’ or up to their own hearts’ lusts. 
 Ro. i. 28 . And again, ‘As for such as turn aside 
 unto their crooked ways, the Lord shall lead them 
 forth with the workers of iniquity.’ Ps exxv. 5. This 
 therefore was God’s hand upon him, that he might 
 be destroyed, be damned, ‘ because he received not 
 the love of the truth that he might be saved.’ 2 Th. 
 ii. 10 . He chose his delusions and deluders for him, 
 even the company of base men, of fools, that he 
 might be destroyed. Pr. xii. 20 . 
 
 Atten. I cannot but think indeed that it is a 
 great judgment of God for a man to be given up 
 The devil’s de- to the company of vile men; for what 
 coys - are such but the devil’s decoys, even 
 those by whom he draws the simple into his net? 
 A whoremaster, a drunkard, a thief, what are 
 
 they but the devil’s baits by which he catclieth 
 others ? 
 
 Wise. You say right; hut this young Badman 
 was no simple one, if by simple you mean one unin- 
 structed; for he had often good counsel given him; 
 but, if by simple you mean him that is a fool 
 as to the true knowledge of, and faith in Christ, 
 then he was a simple one indeed; for he chose 
 death rather than life, and to live in continual oppo¬ 
 sition to God, rather than to be reconciled unto him; 
 according to that saying of the wise man, ‘ The fools 
 hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of 
 the Lord. ’ Pr. i. 29. And what judgment more dread¬ 
 ful can a fool be given up to, than to he delivered 
 into the hands of such men, that have skill to do 
 nothing hut to ripen sin, and hasten its finishing 
 unto damnation? And, therefore, men should be 
 afraid of offending God, because he can in this 
 manner punish them for their sins. I knew a man 
 that once was, as I thought, hopefully 
 awakened about his condition ; yea, 
 
 I knew two that were so awakened, but in time 
 they began to draw back, and to incline again to 
 their lusts; wherefore, God gave them up to the 
 company of three or four men, that This was done 
 in less than three years’ time, brought 
 them roundly to the gallows, where they were 
 hanged like dogs, because they refused to live like 
 honest men. 
 
 Atten. But such men do not believe that thus 
 to be given up of God is in judgment and anger ; 
 they rather take it to be their liberty, and do count 
 it their happiness; they are glad that their cord 
 is loosed, and that the reins are on their neck ; 
 they are glad that they may sin without control, 
 and that they may choose such company as can 
 make them more expert in an evil way. 
 
 Wise. Their judgment is, therefore, so much 
 the greater, because thereto is added blindness of 
 mind, and hardness of heart in a wicked way. 
 They are turned up to the way of death, but must 
 not see to what place they are going. They must 
 go as the ox to the slaughter, ‘and as a fool to the 
 correction of the stocks, till a dart strike through 
 his liver,’ not knowing ‘that it is for his life.’ Pr. 
 vii. 22,23. This, I say, makes their judgment double; 
 they are given up of God for a while, to sport them¬ 
 selves with that which will assuredly make them 
 * mourn at the last, when their flesh and their body 
 are consumed.’ Pr. v. 11. These are those that Peter 
 speaks, that shall utterly perish in their own cor¬ 
 ruptions ; these, I say, who ‘ count it pleasure to 
 riot in the day-time,’ and that sport ‘themselves 
 with their own deceivings,’ are ‘ as natural brute 
 beasts, made to be taken and destroyed.’ 2 Pe. 
 ii. 12, 13 . 
 
 Atten. Well, but I pray now concerning these 
 three villains that were young Badman’s com- 
 
G09 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 pan ions; tell me more particularly how he carried 
 it then. 
 
 Wise. IIo\y he carried it? why, he did as they. 
 I intimated so much before, when I said they made 
 him an arch , 1 a chief one in their ways. 
 
 Fiist, lie became a frequenter of taverns and 
 Badman be- tippling-houses, and would stav there 
 
 comes a fre- . .m l . , J 
 
 quenter of ta- until lie was even as drunk as a beast. 
 
 And if it was so that he could not 
 
 get out by day, he would, be sure, get out by night. 
 
 lea, he became so common a drunkard at last, 
 
 that lie was taken notice of to be a drunkard even 
 
 by all. 
 
 Atten. This was swinish, for drunkenness is so 
 beastly a sin, a sin so much against nature, that 
 I wonder that any that have but the 
 appearance of men can give up them¬ 
 selves to so' beastly, yea, worse than beastly, a 
 
 thin 
 
 O 
 
 ^ ise. It is a swinish vanity indeed. I will tell 
 you another story. There was a gentleman that 
 A story for a had a drunkard to be his groom, and 
 ai coming home one night very much 
 abused with beer, his master saw it. Well, quoth 
 his master within himself, I will let thee alone to 
 night, but to-morrow morning I will convince thee 
 that thou art worse than a beast by the behaviour 
 of my horse. So, when morning was come, he 
 bids his man go and water his horse, and so he did; 
 but, coming up to his master, he commands him 
 to water him again; so the fellow rode into the 
 water the second time, but his master’s horse would 
 now drink no more, so the fellow came up and told 
 his master. Then, said his master, thou drunken 
 sot, thou art far worse than my horse; he will 
 drink but to satisfy nature, but thou wilt drink to 
 the abuse of nature; he will drink but to refresh 
 himself, but thou to thy hurt and damage; he will 
 diink that he may be more serviceable to his mas¬ 
 ter, but thou till thou art incapable of serving 
 either God or man. 0 thou beast, how much art 
 thou worse than the horse that thou ridest on! 
 
 Atten. Truly, I think that his master served 
 him right; for, in doing as he did, he showed him 
 plainly, as he said, that he had not so much govern¬ 
 ment of himself a3 his horse had of himself; and, 
 consequently, that his beast did live more accord¬ 
 ing to the law of his nature by far than did his man. 
 But, pray, go on with what you have further to say. 
 
 ise. \\ hy, I say, that there are four things, 
 which, if they were well considered, wmuld make 
 
 Four evils at- drunkenness to be abhorred in the 
 tend drunken- thoughts of the children of men. 1. 
 
 JlCSS. y 
 
 it greatly tendeth to impoverish and 
 beggar a man. ‘The drunkard,’says Solomon, 
 
 1 From chief, ‘ my worthy arch and patron.’— King 
 
 Lear ; or from the Teutonic ‘ are:/ a rogue. It usually denotes 
 roguish, knavish, sly, artful.—(E d.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 shall come to povorty.* Pr. xxiii. 21 . Many that 
 ha\e begun the world with plenty, have gone out 
 of it in rags, through drunkenness. Yea, many 
 children that have been born to good estates, have 
 }et been biought to a flail and a rake, through this 
 beastly sin of their parents. 2. This sin of drunken¬ 
 ness it bringeth upon the body many, great, and 
 incurable diseases, by which men do, in little time, 
 come to their end, and none can help them. So, 
 because they are overmuch wicked, therefore they 
 die before their time. Ec. vii. 17 . 3. Drunkenness is 
 
 a sin that is oftentimes attended with abundance 
 of other evils. ‘Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? 
 Who hath contentions ? Who hath babbling ? 
 Who hath wounds without cause ? Who hath red¬ 
 ness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine, 
 they that go to seek mixed wine ;’ that is, the 
 drunkard. Pr. xxiii. 29, 30 . 4. By drunkenness, men 
 
 do oftentimes shorten their daj’s; go out of the 
 ale-house drunk, and break their necks before they 
 come home. Instances, not a few, might be given 
 of this, but this is so manifest a man need say 
 nothin Gf. 
 
 O 
 
 A 'item. But that which is worse than all is, it 
 
 also prepares men for everlasting The fifth evati,. 
 burnings. 1 Co. vi. 10. worst. 
 
 Wise. Yea, and it so stupifies and besots the 
 soul, that a man that i3 far gone in drunkenness 
 is hardly ever recovered to God. Tell me, when 
 did you see an old drunkard converted? No, no, 
 such an one will sleep till he dies, though he sleeps 
 on the top of a mast; let his dangers be never so 
 great, and death and damnation never so near, I 13 
 will not be awaked out of his sleep. Pr. xxiii. 34, 35. 
 So that if a man have any respect either to credit, 
 health, life, or salvation, he will not be a drunken 
 man. But the truth is, where this sin gets the 
 upper hand, men are, as I said before, so intoxi¬ 
 cated and bewitched with the seeming pleasures 
 and sweetness thereof, that they have neither heart 
 noi mind to think of that which is better in itself; 
 and would, if embraced, do them good. 
 
 Atten. lou said that drunkenness tends to 
 poverty, yet some make themselves rich by drunken 
 bargains. 
 
 Wise. I said so, because the Word says so. 
 And as to some men’s getting thereby, that is in¬ 
 deed but rare and base; yea, and base An ol)jectiou 
 will be the end of such gettings. The answered. 
 Word of God is against such ways, and the curse 
 of God will be the end of such doings. An in¬ 
 heritance may sometimes thus be hastily gotten at 
 the beginning, but the end thereof shall not be 
 blessed. Hark what the prophet saitli, ‘ Woe to 
 him that coveteth an evil covetousness, that he 
 may set his nest on high. ’ Hab. u. 5,9-12,15. Whether 
 he makes drunkenness, or ought else, the engine 
 and decoy to get it; for that man doth but con- 
 
 77 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 
 
 610 
 
 suit the shame of his own house, the spoiling of 
 his family, and the damnation of his soul; for that 
 which he getteth by working of iniquity is hut a 
 getting by the devices of hell; therefore he can be 
 no gainer neither for himself or family, that gains 
 by an evil course. But this was one of the sms 
 that Mr. Badman was addicted to after he came 
 acquainted with these three fellows, nor could all 
 that his master could do break him off this beastly 
 sin. 
 
 Atten. But where, since he was but an appi en¬ 
 tice, could he get money to follow this practice; 
 for drunkenness, as you have intimated, is a very 
 
 costly sin. , 
 
 Wise. His master paid for all. For, as I told 
 
 you before, as he learned of these three villains to 
 Badman’s mas- be a beastly drunkard, so he learned 
 
 tor’s purse paid f t | t0 p ilf er and steal from his 
 for Ills drunk- _ 1 . n n 
 
 enness. master. Sometimes he would sell ott 
 
 his master’s goods, but keep the money, that is, 
 when he could; also, sometimes he would beguile 
 his master by taking out of his cash box ; and when 
 he could do neither of these, he would convey away 
 of his master’s wares, what he thought would be 
 least missed, and send or carry them to such and 
 such houses, where he knew they would be laid up 
 to his use; and then appoint set times there, to 
 meet and make merry with these fellows. 
 
 Atten. This w r as as bad, nay, I think, worse 
 than the former; for by thus doing he did not only 
 run himself under the wrath of God, but ha3 en¬ 
 dangered the undoing of his master and his family. 
 
 Wise. Sins go not alone, but follow one the 
 other as do the links of a chain; he that will be a 
 drunkard, must have money, either of his own or 
 of some other mail’s ; either of his father s, 
 mother’s, master’s, or at the highway, or some way. 
 
 Atten. I fear that many an honest man is un¬ 
 done by such kind of servants. 
 
 Wise. I am of the same mind with you, but 
 A caution for this should make the dealer the more 
 
 masters. wary what kind of servants he keeps, 
 and what kind of apprentices he takes. It should 
 also teach him to look well to his shop himself; 
 also to take strict account of all things that are 
 bought and sold by his servants, ine mastei s 
 neglect herein may embolden his servant to be bad, 
 and may bring him too in short time to rags and 
 a morsel of bread. 
 
 Atten. I am afraid that there is much of this 
 kind of pilfering among servants in these bad days 
 of ours. 
 
 Wise. Now while it is in my mind, I will tell 
 you a story. When I was in prison, 
 there came a woman to me that was 
 under a great deal of trouble. 1 So 1 asked her, 
 
 1 This is one among a multitude of proofs of the popularity 
 
 she being a stranger to me, what she had to say 
 to me. She said she was afraid she should be 
 damned. I asked her the cause of those fears. 
 She told me that she had, some time since, lived 
 with a shopkeeper at Wellingborough, and had 
 robbed his box in the shop several times of money, 
 to the value of more than now I will say; and 
 pray, says she, tell me what I shall do. I told 
 her I would have her go to her master, and make 
 him satisfaction. She said she was afraid; I 
 asked her, why? She said, she doubted he would 
 hang her. I told her that I would intercede for 
 her life, and would make use of other friends too 
 to do the like; but she told me she durst not ven¬ 
 ture that. Well, said I, shall I send to your master, 
 while vou abide out of sight, and make your peace 
 with him, before he sees you; and with that 1 
 asked her her master’s name. But all that she 
 said, in answer to this, was, Pray let it alone till 
 I come to you again. So away she went, and 
 neither told me her master’s name nor her own. 
 This is about ten or twelve years since, and I never 
 saw her again. I tell you this story for this cause; 
 to confirm your fears that such kind of servants 
 too many there be; and that God makes t lem 
 sometimes like old Tod, of whom mention was made 
 before, through the terrors that he lays upon them, 
 to betray themselves. 
 
 I could tell you of another, that came to mo with 
 a like relation concerning herself, and 
 the robbing of her mistress; hut at this 
 
 time let this suffice. # 
 
 Atten. But what was that other villain addicted 
 to ; I mean young Badman s third companion. 
 Wise. Uncleanness; I told you he- Bad man’s third 
 
 „ n , companion ad- 
 
 fore, but it seems you forgot. dieted to uu- 
 
 Atten. Right, it was uncleanness, cleanness. 
 
 Uncleannes3 is also a filthy sin. 
 
 Wise. It is so; and yet it is one of the most 
 
 reigning sins in our day. 2 
 
 Atten. So they say, and that too among those 
 that one would think had more wit, even among 
 the great ones. 
 
 Wise. The more is the pity; for usually exam¬ 
 ples that are set by them that are great and chief, 
 spread sooner, and more universally, sins of great 
 
 1 /i men dangerous. 
 
 than do the sms of other men; yea, and 
 when such men are at the head in transgressing, 
 sin walks with a bold face through the land. As 
 
 and high esteem in which Banyan was held, even while a 
 
 prisoner for Christ’s sake.—(Em) 
 
 a Reader, bless God that you live in a happier day than 
 that of Bunyan. The reign of Charles II. was pre-eminently 
 distinguished for licentiousness and debauchery. Still there 
 were some who crucified the flesh, with its lusts, and held 
 every obscene word in detestation and abhorrence ; because it 
 is written ‘ be ve holy, for 1 am holy.’ Such must have sorely 
 dazzled the owls of debauchery. Can we wonder that they 
 tormented and imprisoned them? (hn.) 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 611 
 
 Jeremiali saitli of the prophets, so may it he said 
 of such, ‘From them is profaneness gone forth into 
 all the land:’ that is, with bold and audacious 
 face. Je. xxiii. 15. 
 
 Atten. But pray let us return again to Mr. 
 Badman and his companions. You say one of them 
 was very vile in the commission of uncleanness. 
 
 Wise. Yes, so I say; not but that he was a 
 drunkard and also thievish, but he was most arch 
 in this sin of uncleanness: this roguery was his 
 masterpiece, for he was a ringleader to them all 
 in the beastly sin of whoredom. He was also best 
 acquainted with such houses where they were, and 
 so could readily lead the rest of his gang unto them, 
 ihe strumpets also, because they knew this young 
 villain, would at first discover themselves in all their 
 whorish pranks to those that he brought with him. 
 
 Atten. That is a deadly thing: I mean, it is a 
 deadly thing to young men, when such beastly 
 queens shall, with words and carriages that are 
 openly tempting, discover themselves unto them ; 
 it is hard for such to escape their snare. 
 
 Wise. That is true, therefore the wise man’s 
 counsel is the best: * Come not nigh the door of 
 her house. ’ rr. v. s. For they are, as you say, very 
 tempting, as is seen by her in the Proverbs. ‘ I 
 looked,’ says the wise man, ‘through my case¬ 
 ment, and behold among the simple ones I dis¬ 
 cerned a young man void of understanding, passing 
 through the street near her corner, and he went 
 the way to her house, in the twilight, in the even¬ 
 ing, in the black and dark night. And, behold, 
 there met him a woman with the attire of an har¬ 
 lot, and subtle of heart; she is loud 
 and stubborn; her feet abide not in her 
 house; now is she without, now in the streets, and 
 lieth in wait at every corner. So she caught him, 
 and kissed him, and, with an impudent face, said 
 unto him, I have peace-offerings with me; this day 
 have I paid my vows. Therefore came I forth to 
 meet thee diligently to seek thy face, and I have 
 found thee. 1 have decked my bed with coverings 
 of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of 
 Egypt. 1 have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, 
 and cinnamon. Come, let us take eur fill of love 
 until the morning; let us solace ourselves with 
 loves.’ Pr. vfi. 6—is. Here was a bold beast. And, 
 indeed, the very eyes, hands, words, and ways of 
 such, are all snares and bands to youthful, lustful 
 fellows. And with these was young Badman 
 greatly snared. 
 
 Atten. This sin of uucleanness is mightily cried 
 
 The sin of un- 0Llt a o ainst both by Moses, the pro- 
 
 c.'eanness cried phets, Christ, and his apostles; and 
 out against. r 1 
 
 yet, as we see, tor all that, how men 
 run headlong to it! 
 
 Wise. You have said the truth, and I will add, 
 that God, to hold men buck from so filthy a sin, 
 
 Signs of a whore. 
 
 has set such a stamp of his indignation upon it, 
 and commanded such evil effects to follow it, that, 
 were not they that use it bereft of all fear of God, 
 and love to their own health, they could not but 
 stop and be afraid to commit it. For besides the 
 eternal damnation that doth attend such in the next 
 world, for these have no ‘ inheritance in the king¬ 
 dom of Christ and of God,’ Eph. v. 5; the evil effects 
 thereof in this world are dreadful. 
 
 Atten. Pray show me some of them, that as 
 occasion offereth itself, I may show them to others 
 for their good. 
 
 Wise. So I will. 1. It bringeth a man, as was 
 said of the sin before, to want and evils at . 
 poverty; ‘ For by means of a whorish teud this sin - 
 woman, a man is brought to a piece of bread.’ Pr. 
 vi. 28. The reason is, for that a whore will not 
 yield without hire; and men, when the devil and 
 lust is in them, and God and his fear far away from 
 them, will not stick, so they may accomplish their 
 desire, to lay their signet, their bracelets, and their 
 staff to pledge, rather than miss of the fulfilling of 
 their lusts. Ge. xxxviii. is. 2. Again, by this sin 
 men diminish their strength, and bring upon them¬ 
 selves, even upon the body a multitude of diseases. 
 This King Lemuel’s mother warned him of. ‘ What, 
 my son ?’ said she, ‘and what the son of my womb ? 
 And what the son of my vows? Give not thy 
 strength unto women, nor thy ways to that which 
 destroyeth kings.’ Pr. xxxi. 2, 3. This sin is destruc¬ 
 tive to the body. Give me leave to 
 tell you another story. I have heard 
 of a great man that was a very unclean a story for un¬ 
 person, and he had lived so long in that to^take^notice 
 sin that he had almost lost his sidit. of * 
 
 O 
 
 So his physicians were sent for, to whom he told 
 his disease; but they told him that they could do 
 him no good, unless he would forbear his women. 
 Kay then, said he, farewell sweet sight. Whence 
 observe, that this sin, as I said, is destructive to 
 the body; and also, that some men be so in love 
 therewith, that they will have it, though it destroy 
 their body. 1 
 
 Atten. Paul says also, that he that sins this 
 sin, sins against his own body. But what of that? 
 He that will run the hazard of eternal damnation 
 of his soul, but he will commit this sin, will for it 
 run the hazard of destroying his body. If young 
 Badman feared not the damnation of his soul, do 
 you think that the consideration of impairing of his 
 body would have deterred him therefrom? 
 
 Wise. You say true. But yet, methinks, there 
 
 1 How often is suicide committed without poisou, suffocation, 
 the knife, or firearms. About forty years agooue of my neigh¬ 
 bours was told by his doctor that, unless he gave up the bottle, 
 it would send him into auother world, lie called his servant 
 aud ordered wine, sayiug, I had rather die than give up all my 
 enjoyments. In about six months I saw his splendid funeral.. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
612 
 
 THE LIEE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 are still such had effects follow, often upon the 
 commission of it, that if men would consider them, 
 it would put, at least, a stop to their career 
 therein. 
 
 Atten. What other evil effects attend this sin? 
 
 Wise. Outward shame and disgrace, and that in 
 
 More evils at- these particulars:— 
 tend this sin. First, There often follows this foul* 
 
 sin the foul disease, now called by us the pox. 
 A disease so nauseous and stinking, so infectious 
 to the whole body, and so entailed to this sin, that 
 hardly are any common with unclean nomen, but 
 they have more or less a touch of it to their 
 shame. 
 
 Atten. That is a foul disease indeed! I knew 
 a man once that rotted away with it; 
 and another that had his nose eaten 
 off, and his mouth almost quite sewed up thereby. 
 
 Wise. It is a disease, that where it is it com¬ 
 monly declares that the cause thereof is unclean¬ 
 ness. It declares to all that behold such a man, 
 that he is an odious, a beastly, unclean person. 
 This is that strange punishment that Job speaks 
 of, that is appointed to seize on these workers of 
 iniquity. Job xxxi. 1-3. 
 
 Atten. Then it seems you think, that the strange 
 punishment that Job there speaks of should be 
 the foul disease. 
 
 Wise. 1 have thought so indeed, and that for 
 this reason. We see that this disease is entailed, 
 as I may say, to this most beastly sin, nor is there 
 any disease so entailed to any other sin as this to 
 this. That this is the sin to which the strange 
 punishment is entailed, you will easily perceive 
 when you read the text. ‘I made a covenant with 
 mine eyes,’ said Job, ‘why then should I think 
 upon a maid? For what portion of God is there,' 
 for that sin, ‘from above, and what inheritance of 
 the Almighty from on high ?’ And then he answers 
 himself: ‘ Is not destruction to the wicked, and a 
 strange punishment to the workers of iniquity?’ 
 This strange punishment is the pox. Also, I think 
 that this foul disease is that which Solomon intends 
 when he saith, speaking of this unclean and beastly 
 creature, ‘ A wound and dishonour shall he get, 
 and his reproach shall not be wiped away.’ Fr. vi. 33. 
 A punishment Job calls it; a wound and dishonour 
 Solomon calls it; and they both do set it as a remark 
 upon this sin; Job calling it a ‘strange punishment,’ 
 and Solomon a ‘ reproach that shall not be wiped 
 away,’ from them that are common in it. 
 
 Atten. What other things follow upon the com¬ 
 mission of this beastly sin ? 
 
 Wise, Why, oftentimes it is attended with 
 murder, with the murder of the babe begotten on 
 the defiled bed. How common it is for the bas¬ 
 tard-getter and bastard-bearer to consent together 
 to murder their children, will be better known at 
 
 the day of judgment, yet something is manifest 
 now. 
 
 I will tell you another story. An ancient man, 
 one of mine acquaintance, a man of good credit in 
 our country, had a mother that was a 
 midwife, who was mostly employed in 
 laying great persons. To this woman’s house, 
 upon a time, comes a brave young gallant on horse¬ 
 back, to fetch her to lay a young lady. So she 
 addresses herself to go with him, wherefore he 
 takes her up behind him, and away they ride in 
 the night. Now they had not rid far, but the 
 gentleman litt off his horse, and, taking the old 
 midwife in his arms from the horse, turned round 
 with her several times, and then set her up again, 
 then he got up and away they went till they came 
 at a statelv house, into which he had her, and so 
 into a chamber where the young lady was in her 
 pains. He then bid the midwife do her office, 
 and she demanded help, but he drew out his sword, 
 and told her if she did not make speed to do her 
 office without, she must look for nothing-but death. 
 Well, to be short, this old midwife laid the young- 
 lady, and a fine sweet babe she had. Now there 
 was made in a room hard by a very great fire; so 
 the gentleman took up the babe, went and drew 
 the coals from the stock, cast the child in and 
 covered it up, and there was an end of that. So 
 when the midwife had done her work he paid her 
 well for her pains, but shut her up in a dark room 
 all day, and when night came took her up behind 
 him again, and carried her away till she came 
 almost at home, then he turned her round and 
 round as he did before, and had her to her house, 
 set her down, bid her farewell, and away he went, 
 and she could never tell who it was. This story 
 the midwife’s son, who was a minister, told me, 
 and also protested that his mother told it him for 
 a truth. 
 
 Atten. Murder doth often follow indeed, as that 
 which is the fruit of this sin. But sometimes God 
 brings even these adulterers and adulteresses to 
 
 O # 
 
 shameful ends. I heard of one, I think 
 a doctor of physic, and his whore, who 
 had three or four bastards betwixt them and had 
 murdered them all, but at last themselves were 
 hanged for it, in or near to Colchester. It came 
 out after this manner,—the whore was so afflicted 
 in her conscience about it that she could not be 
 quiet until she had made it known. Thus God 
 many times makes the actors of wickedness their 
 own accusers, and brings them, by their own 
 tongues, to condign punishment for their own sins. 
 
 Wise. There has been many such instances, but 
 we will let that pass. I was once in the presence 
 of a woman, a married woman, that lay sick of the 
 sickness whereof she died, and being smitten in 
 her conscience for the sin of uncleanness, which 
 
613 
 
 TIIE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 she had often committed with other men, I heard 
 l ier > as s he lay upon her bed, cry out 
 thus, I am a whore, and all my chil¬ 
 dren are bastards, and I must go to hell for my 
 sm, and look, there stands the devil at my bed’s 
 feet to receive my soul when I die. 
 
 Atten. These are sad stories, tell no more of 
 them now, but if you please show me yet some 
 other of the evil effects of this beastly sin. 
 
 Wise. This sin is such a snare to the soul, that, 
 unless a miracle of grace prevents, it unavoidably 
 perishes in the enchanting and bewitching pleasures 
 of it. This is manifest by these and such like 
 texts—‘ The adulteress will hunt for the precious 
 life.’ Pr. vi. 26 . ‘ Whoso committeth adultery with a 
 
 woman Iacketh understanding. He that doetli it 
 destroyeth his own soul. ’ Pr.vi.32. ‘A whore is a deep 
 ditch, and a strange woman is a narrow pit. ’ Pr.xxiii. 
 2 :. ‘ Her house inclineth unto death, and her paths 
 unto the dead. None that go unto her return 
 again, neither take they hold of the paths of life.’ 
 Pr. ii. is, 19 . ‘ She hath cast down many wounded; 
 
 } ea, many strong men have been slain by her. 
 Her house is the way to hell, going down to the 
 chambers of death.’ p r . vii. 26 , 27 . 
 
 Atten. These are dreadful sayings, and do 
 show the dreadful state of those that are guilty of 
 this sin. 
 
 Wise. Verily so they do. But yet that which 
 makes the whole more dreadful is, that men are 
 given up to this sin because they are abhorred of 
 God, and because abhorred, therefore they shall 
 fall into the commission of it, and shall live there. 
 
 ‘ The mouth, ’ that is, the flattering lips, ‘ of 
 strange women is a deep pit, he that is abhorred 
 of the Lord shall fall therein. Pr. xxii. 14. There¬ 
 fore it saith again of such, that they have none 
 
 Desperate words. 
 
 with him— 
 
 4 inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God.’ 
 
 Ep. v. 5. 
 
 Atten. Put all together, and it is a dreadful 
 thing to live and die in this transgression. 
 
 V ise. True, but suppose that instead of all 
 these judgments this sin had attending of it all 
 the felicities of this life, and no bitterness, shame, 
 or disgrace mixed with it, yet one hour in hell will 
 spoil all. 0! this hell, hell-fire, damnation in 
 hell, it is such an inconceivable punishment that, 
 were it but thoroughly believed, it would nip this 
 sin, with others, in the head. But here is the 
 mischief, those that give up themselves to these 
 things do so harden themselves in unbelief and 
 atheism about the things, the punishments that 
 God hath threatened to inflict upon the committers 
 of them, that at last they arrive to almost an ab¬ 
 solute and firm belief that there is no judgment to 
 come hereafter; else they would not, they could 
 not, no not attempt to commit this sin by such 
 abominable language as some do. 
 
 I heard of one that should say to his miss when 
 he tempted her to the committing of 
 this sin, If thou wilt venture thy body 
 I will venture my soul. And I myself 
 heard another say, when he was tempt¬ 
 ing of a maid to commit uncleanness 
 it was in Oliver’s days—that if she did provo 
 with child he would tell her how she might escape 
 punishment—and that was then somewhat severe 
 bay, saith he, when you come before 
 the judge, that you are with child by 
 the Holy Ghost. I heard him say thus, and it 
 gieathy afflicted me; I had a mind to have accused 
 him for it before some magistrate, but he was a 
 great man, and I was poor and young, so I let it 
 alone, but it troubled me very much. 
 
 Atten. It was the most horrible thing that ever 
 I heard in my life. But how far off are these men 
 from that spirit and grace that dwelt in Joseph. 
 
 Ge. xxxix. 10. 
 
 Wise. Right; when Joseph’s mistress tempted 
 
 him, yea, tempted him daily, yea, she 0 f chaste Jo- 
 laid hold on him and said, with her se P k * 
 whores forehead, Come, ‘lie with me ,’ but he 
 refused; he hearkened not to lie with her or to 
 be with her. Mr. Badman would have taken the 
 opportunity. 
 
 And a little to comment upon this of Joseph. 
 1. Here is a miss, a great miss, the wife of the 
 captain of the guard, soino beautiful dame I’ll 
 warrant you.. 2. Here is a miss won, and in her 
 whorish affections come over to Joseph without 
 his speaking of a word. 3. Here is her unclean 
 desire made known, Come, ‘lie with me,’ said she. 
 4. Here was a fit opportunity, there was none of 
 the men of the house there within. 5. Joseph 
 was a young man, full of strength, and therefore 
 the more in danger to be taken. 6. This was to 
 him a temptation from her that lasted days. 7. 
 And yet Joseph refused, (1.) Her daily temptation; 
 (2.) Her daily solicitation; (3.) Her daily provo¬ 
 cation, heartily, violently, and constantly. For 
 Avhen she got him by the garment, saying, * Lie 
 with me,’ he left his garment in her hand and gat 
 him out. Ay, and although contempt, treachery, 
 slander, aocusation, imprisonment, and danger of 
 death followed—for a whore carcth not what mis¬ 
 chief she does when she cannot have her end—yet 
 Joseph will not defile himself, sin against God, and 
 hazard his own eternal salvation. 
 
 Atten. Blessed Joseph! I would thou hadst 
 more fellows! 
 
 Wise. Mr. Badman has more fellows than 
 Joseph, else there would not be so many whores 
 as there are; for though I doubt not but that that 
 sex is bad enough this way, yet I verily believe 
 that many of them are made whores at first by the 
 flatteries of Badman’s fellows. Alas! there is 
 
TTTE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 
 
 614 
 
 many a woman plunged into tliis sin at first even 
 Many are made by promises of maniage. X say by 
 promfses^ 1 of f^ iese promises they are flattered, yea, 
 marriage. forced into a consenting to these 
 villainies, and so being in, and growing hardened 
 in their hearts, they at last give themselves up, 
 even as wicked men do, to act this kind of wicked¬ 
 ness with greediness. 1 But Joseph you see, was 
 of another mind, for the fear of God was in him. 
 
 X will, before I leave this, tell you here two 
 * notable stories; and I wish Mr. Badman’s com¬ 
 panions may bear of them. They are found 
 in Clark’s Looking-glass for Sinners; and are 
 these:—Mr. Cleaver, says Mr. Clark, reports of 
 
 Clark’s Looking, one whom be knew that had com- 
 
 oiass for Sin - m j ttec i t ] ie ac t 0 f uncleanness, where- 
 ners. —on. n. 
 
 P- 13 * * - upon he fell into such horror of con¬ 
 
 science that he hanged himself, leaving it thus 
 written in a paper:—‘ Indeed,’ saith he, ‘ I do 
 acknowledge it to be utterly unlawful for a man 
 to kill himself, but I am bound to act the magis¬ 
 trate’s part, because the punishment of this sin is 
 death.’ 
 
 Clark doth also, in the same page, make men¬ 
 tion of two more, who, as they were committing 
 adultery in London, were immediately struck dead 
 with fire from heaven, in the very act. Their 
 bodies were so found, half burned up, and sending 
 out a most loathsome savour. 
 
 Attest. These are notable stories indeed. 
 
 Wise. So they are, and I suppose they are as 
 true as notable. 
 
 Atten. Well, but I wonder if young Badman’s 
 master knew, him to be such a wretch, that he 
 would suffer him in his house. 
 
 Wise. They liked one another even as fire and 
 „ . ... water do. Young Badman’s ways 
 
 master abhor were odious to his master, and ins 
 master’s ways were such as young 
 Badman could not endure. Thus, in these two, 
 were fulfilled that saying of the Holy Ghost: ‘An 
 unjust man is an abomination to the just; and he 
 that is upright in the way is an abomination to the 
 wicked.’ Pr. xxix. 27. The good man’s ways, Mr. 
 Badman could not abide, nor could the good man 
 abide the bad ways of his base apprentice. Yet 
 would his master, if he could, have kept him, and 
 also have learned him his trade. 
 
 Atten. If he could! Why, he might, if he 
 would, might he not? 
 
 Wise. Alas, Badman ran away from him once 
 
 „ _ , and twice, and would not at all be 
 
 loung Badman 7 , 
 
 runs away from ruled. So the next time lie did run 
 away from him, he did let him go in- 
 
 1 Tlie remorse and stings of conscience seducers will feel 
 
 in the next life, for being the instruments of so much wicked¬ 
 
 ness and desolation in others, will prove to them a thousand 
 
 hells.— (Mason.) 
 
 deed. For he gave him no occasion to run away, 
 except it was by holding of him as much as ho 
 could, and that he could do but little, to good and 
 honest rules of life. And had it been one s own 
 case, one should have let him go. For what should 
 a man do that had either regard to his own peace, 
 his children’s good, or the preservation of the rest 
 of his servant’s from evil, but let him go? Had 
 he staid, the house of correction had been most fit 
 for him, but thither his master was loth to send 
 him, because of the love that he bore to his father. 
 A house of correction, I say, had been the fittest 
 place for him, but his master let him go. 
 
 Atten. He ran away, you say, but whither did 
 he run? 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 [iie gets a new master bad as iiimself.] 
 
 Wise. Why, to one of his own trade, and also 
 
 like himself. Thus the wicked joined Hg gets a npw 
 
 hand in hand, and there he served out master like h:m- 
 
 selt. 
 
 his time. 
 
 Atten. Then, sure, he had his heart s desire 
 when he was with one so like himself. 
 
 Wise. Yes, so lie had, but God gave it him in 
 his anger. 
 
 • Atten. How do you mean? 
 
 Wise. I mean as before, that for a wicked man 
 to be by the providence of God turned A sign of God , s 
 out of a goodman’s doors,into a wicked 
 man’s house to dwell, is a sign of the 
 anger of God. For God by this, and such judg¬ 
 ments, says thus to such an one. Thou wicked 
 one, thou lovest not me,' my ways, nor my people; 
 thou castest my law and good counsel behind thy 
 back. Come, I will dispose of thee in my wrath ; 
 thou slialt be turned over to the ungodly, thou shalt 
 be put to school to the devil, I will leave thee to 
 sink and swim in sin, till I shall visit thee with 
 death and judgment. This was, therefore, another 
 judgment that did come upon this young Badman. 
 
 Atten. You have said the truth, for God by 
 such a judgment as this, in effect says so indeed; 
 for he takes them out of the hand of the just, and 
 binds them up in the hand of the wicked, and whi¬ 
 ther they then shall be carried a man may easily 
 
 imagine. 
 
 Wise. It is one of the saddest tokens of God’s 
 
 anger that happens to such kind of Demonstration 
 
 persons: and that for several reasons, of God’s auger 
 1 . . . , . towards lum. 
 
 1. Such a one, by this judgment, is 
 put out of the way, and from under the means 
 which ordinarily are made use of to do good to the 
 soul. For a family, where godliness is professed, 
 and practised, is God’s ordinance, the place which 
 he has appointed to teach young ones the way and 
 fear of God. Ge. xviii. is, 19. Now', to be put out of 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 615 
 
 sucli a family, into a bad, a wicked one, as Mr. 
 Badman was, must needs be in judgment, and a 
 sign of the anger of God. For in ungodly families 
 men learn to forget God, to bate goodness, and to 
 estrange themselves from the ways of those that 
 are good. 1 2. In bad families they have continu¬ 
 ally fresh examples, and also incitements to evil, 
 and fresh encouragements to it too. Yea, more¬ 
 over, in such places evil is commended, praised, 
 well-spoken of, and they that do it are applauded; 
 and this, to be sure, is a drowning judgment. 
 3. Such places are the very haunts and walks of 
 the infernal spirits, who are continually poisoning 
 the cogitations and minds of one or other in such 
 families, that they may be able to poison others. 
 Therefore observe it, usually in wicked families, 
 some one or two are more arch for wickedness than 
 are any other that are there. Now such are Satan’s 
 conduit pipes, for by them he conveys of the spawn 
 of hell, through their being crafty in wickedness, 
 into the ears and souls of their companions. Yea, 
 and when they have once conceived wickedness, 
 they travail with it, as doth a woman with child, 
 till they have brought it forth; ‘ Behold, he tra- 
 vaileth with iniquity, and hath conceived mischief, 
 and brought forth falsehood.’ Ps. vii. 14. Some men, 
 as here is intimated in the text, and as was hinted 
 also before, have a kind of mystical but hellish 
 copulation with the devil, who is the father, and 
 their soul the mother of sin and wickedness; and 
 they, so soon as they have conceived by him. finish, 
 by bringing forth sin, both it and their own damna¬ 
 tion. Ja. i. 15. 
 
 Atten. How much then doth it concern those 
 
 It concerns pnr- parents that love their children, to see, 
 cuts to put their ,i , •/. ,i r . , , 
 
 children into t{ iat n they g o from them, they be put 
 good families. i n t 0 guc ] 1 f am jp e3 as p e t p at t ] 1G y 
 
 may learn there betimes to eschew evil, and to fol¬ 
 low that which is good! 
 
 Wise. It doth concern them indeed; and it doth 
 Masters should also concern them that take children 
 
 what servants into their families, to take heed what 
 they entertain, children they receive. For a man may 
 
 soon, by a bad boy, be damaged both in his name, 
 estate, and family, and also hindered in his peace 
 and peaceable pursuit after God and godliness ; I 
 sa y> by one such vermin as a wicked and filthy ap¬ 
 prentice. 
 
 Atten. True, for one sinner destroyeth much 
 good, and a poor man is better than a liar. But 
 many times a man cannot help it; for such as at 
 the beginning promise very fair are by a little time 
 proved to be very rogues, like young Badman. 
 
 W ise. That is true also; but when a man has 
 
 1 Ungodly, Cliristlcss, prayerless families are little hells— 
 filthy luuutaius, whose waters cast up mire aud dirt; they are 
 the blind and willing captives of sin and Satan, going down to 
 the chambers of death and endless despair.— (Ed.) 
 
 done the best he can to help it, he may with the 
 more confidence expect the blessing of God to fol¬ 
 low, or he shall have the more peace if things go 
 contrary to bis desire. 
 
 Atten. Well, but did Mr. Badman and his 
 master agree so well? I mean his last master, 
 since they were birds of a feather, I mean since 
 they were so well met for wickedness. 
 
 Wise. This second master was, as before I told 
 you, bad enough; but yet he would Young Badman 
 often fall out with young Badman, his 
 servant, and chide, yea and sometimes a s ree - 
 beat him too, for his naughty doings. 
 
 Atten. What! for all he was so bad himself! 
 This is like the proverb, The devil corrects vice. 
 
 Wise. I will assure you it is as I say. For you 
 must know that Badman’s ways suited not with 
 his master’s gains. Could he have done as the 
 damsel that we read of, Ac. xvi. 16 , did, to wit, fill 
 his master’s purse with his badness, he bad cer¬ 
 tainly been his white-boy, but it was not so with 
 young Badman ; and, therefore, though his master 
 and he did suit well enough in the main, yet in this 
 and that point they differed. Young Reasons of their 
 Badman was for neglecting of his dls;i ° rcein °- 
 master’s business, for going to the wliore-house, 
 for beguiling of his master, for attempting to de¬ 
 bauch his daughters, and the like. No marvel 
 then if they disagreed in these points. Not so much 
 for that his master had an antipathy against the 
 fact itself, for he could do so when he was an ap¬ 
 prentice ; but for that his servant by his sin made 
 spoil of his commodities, &c., and so damnified his 
 master. 
 
 Had, as I said before, young Badman’s wicked¬ 
 ness had only a tendency to his master’s advan¬ 
 tage, as could he have sworn, lied, cozened, cheated, 
 and defrauded customers for his master—and indeed 
 sometimes he did so—but had that been all that he 
 had done, he had not had, no, not a wry word from 
 his master; but this was not always Mr. Badman’s 
 way. 
 
 Atten. That was well brought in, even the maid 
 that we read of in the Acts, and the distinction was 
 as clear betwixt the wickedness and wickedness of 
 servants. 
 
 Wise. Alas! men that are wicked themselves, 
 yet greatly hate it in others, not simply because it 
 is wickedness, but because it opposeth their interest. 
 Do you think that that maid's master would have 
 been troubled at the loss of her, if he had not lost, 
 with her, his gain? No, 1 11 warrant you; she 
 might have gone to the devil for him ; but ‘ when 
 her masters saw that the hope of their gains was 
 gone,’ then, then he fell to persecuting Paul. 
 Ac. xvi. 17-20. But Mr. Badman’s master did some¬ 
 times lose by Mr. Badman’s sins, and then Bad¬ 
 man and his master were at odds. 
 
GIG 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADM AN. 
 
 * 
 
 *1 
 
 * 
 
 v 
 
 ! 
 
 Atten. Alas, poor Badman! Then it seems 
 thou couldest not at all times please thy like. 
 Wise. No, he could not, and the reason I have 
 
 told you. 
 
 Atten. But do not had masters condemn them¬ 
 selves in condemning the badness of their servants ? 
 
 Wise. Yes; in that they condemn that in an¬ 
 other which they either have, or do allow in them¬ 
 selves. lio. xiv. 22 . And the time will 
 
 Bud masters con¬ 
 
 demn them- come when that very sentence that hath 
 
 selves, 
 
 , w : lie 1 u cone out of their own mouths against 
 ness beat their the sins of others, themselves living 
 servants. an q taking pleasure in the same, shall 
 
 return with violence upon their own pates. The 
 Lord pronounced judgment against Baasha, as foi 
 all his evils in general, so for this in special, be¬ 
 cause he was ‘like the house of Jeroboam and yet 
 ‘killed him.’ iKi. xvi. 7. This is Mr. Badman s 
 master’s case; he is like his man, and yet he beats 
 him. He is like his man, and yet he rails at him 
 for being bad. 
 
 Atten. But why did not young Badman run 
 away from this master, as he ran away from tne 
 other? 
 
 Wise. He did not. And if I be not mistaken, 
 the reason why was this. There was godliness in 
 the house of the first, and that young Badman 
 could not endure. For fare, for lodging, for work, 
 arid time, he had better, and more by this master s 
 allowance, than ever he had by his last; 
 but all this would not content, because 
 godliness was promoted there. He 
 
 Why young Bad¬ 
 man did not run 
 away from this 
 master, though 
 he did 
 him. 
 
 Wise. It was hellish living indeed ; and a man 
 might say, that with this master, young By what means 
 Badman completed himself yet more tobecompVe^d 
 and more in wickedness, as well as in m wickedness, 
 his trade: for by that he came out of his time, 
 what with his own inclination to sin, Avhat with lus 
 acquaintance with his three companions, and Avhat 
 with this last master, and the wickedness he saAV 
 in him; he became a sinner in grain. 1 I think he 
 had a bastard laid to his charge before he came 
 out of his time. 
 
 Atten. Well, but it seems he did Badman out of 
 live to come out of his time, but Avhat 
 did he then ? 
 
 Wise. Why, he Avent home to his He goes borne 
 father, and he, like a loving and tender- t0 llis fatlier ' 
 hearted father, received him into his house. 
 
 Atten. And Iioav did he carry it there ? 
 
 Wise. Why, the reason why he Avent home, Avas. 
 for money to set up for himself; he stayed but a 
 little at home, but that little vvliile that Herefrainshim- 
 lie did stay, he refrained himself as sell for money, 
 well as he could, and did not so much discover 
 himself to be base, for fear his father should take 
 distaste, and so should refuse, or for a Avliile for¬ 
 bear to give him money. Yet even then he Avould 
 have his times, and companions, and the fill of his 
 lusts with them, but he used to blind all Avith this, 
 he Avas glad to see his old acquaintance, and they 
 as glad to see him, and he could not in civility but 
 accommodate them with a bottle or two of Avine, or 
 a dozen or two of drink. 
 
 teat could not abide this praying, this read¬ 
 ing of Scriptures, and hearing, and 
 repeating of sermons; lie could not abide to be 
 told of his transgressions in a sober and godly , 
 manner. 
 
 Atten. There is a great deal in the manner of 
 reproof; wicked men both can and cannot abide to 
 hear their transgressions spoken against. 
 
 Wise. There is a great deal of difference indeed. 
 This last master of Mr. Badman’s would tell Mr. 
 
 Badman of his sins in Mr. Badman’s 
 ^couid bearTS own dialect; he Avould swear, and 
 rcproofTettcr curse, and damn, when he told him of 
 than be could pis sins, and this he could bear better, 
 than to be told of them after a godly 
 sort. Besides, that last master Avould, when his 
 passions and rage Avere over, laugh at and make 
 merry with the sins of his servant Badman ; and 
 that Avould please young Badman Avell. Nothing 
 offended Badman but bloAvs, and those he had but 
 feAv of noAv, because he Avas pretty Avell grown up. 
 For the most part when his master did rage and 
 swear, he would give him oath for oath, and curse 
 for curse, at least secretly, let him go on as long 
 as he would. 
 
 Atten. This Avas hellish living. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 [badman in business, the tricks of a wicked 
 
 TRADESMAN. ] 
 
 Atten. And did the old man give him money to 
 set up with ? 
 
 Wise. Yes, above two hundred pounds. 
 
 Atten. Therein, I think, the old man Avas out. 
 Had I been his father, I Avould have held him a 
 little at staves-end, till I had had far better proof 
 of his manners to be good; for I perceive that his 
 father did knoAV Avhat a naughty boy severity, what 
 he had been, both by Avhat he used to 11 mcliues t0 - 
 do at home, and because he changed a good mas¬ 
 ter for a bad, &c. He should not therefore have 
 given him money so soon. What if he had pinched 
 a little, and gone to journey-work for a time, that 
 he might have known Avhat a penny Avas, by his 
 earning of it? Then, in all probability, he had 
 known better how to have spent it; yea, and by 
 that time perhaps, have better considered Avith 
 himself, Iioav to have lived in the Avorld. Av, 
 
 1 * In grain,’ material dyed before it is manufactured, so 
 that every gvciin receives the colour, which becomes indelible. 
 —(End 
 
 
617 
 
 tiie life and death of hr. badman. 
 
 and who knows but he might have come to himself 
 "ith the prodigal, and have asked God and his 
 Hither forgiveness for the villainies that he had 
 committed against them. 
 
 Wise. If his father could also have blessed this 
 manner of dealing to him, and have made it effec¬ 
 tual for the ends that you have propounded, then 
 I should have thought as you. But alas, alas, you 
 talk as if you never knew, or had at this present 
 
 'at ^vin^tliari the bowels and compas- 
 
 takm» good sions of a father are. Why, did you 
 
 not serve your own son so ? But it 
 is evident enough that we are better at giving good 
 counsel to others, than we are at taking good coun¬ 
 sel ourselves. But mine honest neighbour, sup¬ 
 pose that Mr. Badman’s father had done as you 
 say, and by so doing had driven his son to ill 
 com ses, what had he bettered either himself or his 
 son in so doing ? 
 
 Atten. That is true, but it doth not follow that 
 This is to be if the father had done as I said, the 
 1 L,u ‘ son would have done as you suppose. 
 But if he had done as you have supposed, what had 
 he done worse than what he hath done" already ? 
 
 M ise. He had done bad enough, that is true. 
 But suppose his father had given him no money, 
 and suppose that young Badman had taken a pet 
 thereat, and in an anger had gone beyond sea, and 
 his father had neither seen him, nor heard of him 
 more. Or suppose that of a mad and headstrong 
 stomach, he had gone to the highway for money, 
 and so had brought himself to the gallows, and his 
 father and family to great contempt, or if by so 
 doing he had not brought himself to that end, yet 
 lie had added to all his wickedness such and such 
 evils besides; and what comfort could his father 
 have had in this ? Besides, when his father haa 
 done for him what he could, with desire to make 
 him an honest man, he would then, whether his 
 son had proved honest or no, have laid down his 
 head with far more peace than if he had taken 
 your counsel. 
 
 Atten. Yay I think I should not have been for- 
 ward to have given advice in the cause; but truly 
 you have given me such an account of his villainies, 
 that the hearing thereof has made me angry with 
 him. 
 
 U ise. In an angry mood we may soon outshoot 
 ourselves, but poor wretch as he is, he is gone to 
 his place. But, as I said, when a good father hath 
 done what he can for a bad child, and that child 
 shall prove never the better, he will lie down with 
 far more peace, than if through severity, he had 
 driven him to inconveniences. 1 
 
 I remember that I have heard of a good woman, 
 that had, as this old man, a bad and ungodly son, 
 
 and she prayed for him,counselled him, and carried 
 it motherly to him for several years a 
 together ; but still he remained bad. and a bad sou. 
 At last, upon a time, after she had been at prayer, 
 as she was wont, for his conversion, she comes to 
 him, and thus, or to this effect, begins again to 
 admonish him. Son, said she, thou hast been and 
 art a wicked child, thou hast cost mo many a 
 piayer and tear, and yet thou remainest wicked. 
 Well, I have done my duty, I have done what 
 I can to save thee; now I am satisfied, that if I 
 shall see thee damned at the day of judgment, I 
 shall be so far off from being grieved for thee, that 
 I shall rejoice to hear the sentence of thy damna¬ 
 tion at that day; and it converted him. 
 
 I tell you that if parents carry it lovingly to¬ 
 wards their children, mixing their mercies with 
 loving rebukes, and their loving rebukes with 
 fatherly and motherly compassions, they are more 
 likely to save their children, than by being chur¬ 
 lish and severe towards them : but if they°do not 
 save them, if their mercy do them no good, yet- it 
 will greatly ease them at the day of death, to con¬ 
 sider ; I have done by love as much as 1 could, to 
 save and deliver my child from hell. 
 
 Atten. Well I yield. But pray let us return 
 again to Mr. Badman. You say, that his father 
 
 gave him a piece of money that he might set no 
 for himself. 2 ° 
 
 Wise. Yes, his father did give him a piece of 
 money, and he did set up, and almost 
 as soon set down again: for he was VetsuX^m- 
 not long set up, but by his ill manag- 
 mg of his matters at home, together laud ’ s end - 
 with his extravagant expenses abroad, he was got 
 so far into debt, and had so little in his shop°to 
 pay, that he was hard put to it to keep himself out 
 of piison. But when his creditors understood that 
 lie was about to marry, and in a fair way to get a 
 rich wife, they said among themselves, We will 
 
 not be hasty with him; if he gets a rich wife ho 
 will pay us all. 
 
 Atten. But how could he so quickly run out, 
 
 f°i ^ perceive it was in little time, by what you 
 say ? J 
 
 Wise. It was in little time indeed, I think ho 
 was not above two years and a half in doing of it; 
 but the reason is apparent, for he be- ° 
 ing a wild young man, and now hav- to 
 ing the bridle loose before him, and out ‘ 
 being wholly subjected to his lusts and vices, ho 
 gave himself up to the way of his heart, and to’tho 
 sight of his eye, forgetting that for all these things 
 God would bring him to judgment. Ec. xi. o. And 
 he that doth thus, you may be sure, shall not bo 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 See the note on p. 597. 
 
 / * fiWf 0f T^ y> is here mcant two hundred pound* 
 | tune.—[ edO 1 P1 ' 0bab y mCaU3 a P ° rti0U or P iece his for- 
 
 73 
 
618 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 able long* to stand on his legs. Besides he had 
 now an addition of new companions ; companions 
 New compa- y ou must think most like himself in 
 nions. manners, and so such that cared not 
 who sunk, if they themselves might swim. . These 
 would often he haunting of him, and of his shop 
 too when he was absent. They would commonly 
 eo-o- 1 him to the alehouse, hut yet make him jack- 
 pay-for-all; they would also he borrowing money 
 of him, hut take no care to pay again, except it 
 was with more of their company, which also he 
 liked very well; and so his poverty came like ‘one 
 that travelleth, and his want as an armed man. 
 rr. vi. 11 . But all the while they studied his temper; 
 
 Mr. Bad man’s lie loved t0 be flattered ’ P raised ’ and 
 temper. commended for wit, manhood, and per¬ 
 sonage ; and this was like stroking him over the 
 face. Thus they colleagued with him, and got 
 yet more and more into him, and so, like horse 
 leeches, they drew away that little that his father 
 had given him, and brought him quickly down, 
 almost to dwell next door to the beggar. 
 
 Atten. Then was the saying of the wise man 
 fulfilled, ‘ He that keepeth company with harlots,’ 
 and ‘ a companion of fools, shall be destroyed. 
 
 Pr. xxix. 3 ; xiii. 20 . 
 
 Wise. Ay, and that too, ‘ A companion of riot¬ 
 ous persons sliameth his father. ’ 2 Pr. xxviii. 7 . For 
 he, poor man, had both grief and shame, to see 
 how his son, now at his own hand, behaved him¬ 
 self in the enjoyment of those good things, in and 
 under the lawful use of which he might have lived 
 to God’s glory, his own comfort, and credit among 
 his neighbours. ‘ But he that followeth after vain 
 persons , shall have poverty enough.’ Pr. xxviii. 19. 
 The way that he took, led him directly into this 
 condition; for who can expect other things of one 
 that follows such courses ? Besides, when he was 
 in his shop, he could not abide to be doing; he was 
 naturally given to idleness. He loved to live high, 
 but his hands refused to labour; and what else can 
 the end of such an one be but that which the wise 
 man saitli ? ‘ The drunkard and the glutton shall 
 come to poverty, and drowsiness shall clothe a man 
 with rags.’ Pr. xxiii. 21. 3 
 
 Atten. But now, methinks, when he was brought 
 thus low, he should have considered the hand of 
 God that was gone out against him, and should 
 have smote upon the breast, and have returned. 
 
 Wise. Consideration, good consideration, was 
 far from him, he was as stout and proud now 
 
 1 From the Anglo-Saxon ‘ Eggian,’ to incite, urge.—(E d.) 
 
 2 The Genevan or Puritan version of this passage is very 
 striking: ‘ he that feedeth the gluttons, shaineth his father.’ 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 3 This is one of the numerous passages of Holy Writ whiph 
 are more expressive without than with the words supplied in 
 italics: toomn/i arc not exempt from the ‘ rags’ which must ever 
 folio w d row si ness.—(Id 0 .) 
 
 as ever in all his life, and was as high too in the 
 pursuit of his sin, as when he was 111 jj ig tj e h av i om 
 the midst of his fulness ; only he went under his de- 
 no w like a tired jade, the devil had 
 rid him almost off of his legs. 
 
 Atten. Well, but what did he do when all was 
 
 almost gone? 
 
 Wise. Two things were now his play. 1. He 
 bore all in hand by swearing, and now lie covered 
 cracking, and lying, that he was as 
 well to pass as he was the first day he set up for 
 himself, yea that ho had rather got than lost; and 
 he had at his heck some of his companions that 
 would swear to confirm it as fast as he. 
 
 Atten. This was double wickedness, it was a 
 sin to say it, and another to swear it. 
 
 Wise. That is true,'but what evil is that that 
 he will not do, that is left of God, as I believe 
 Mr. Bad man was? 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 [ins hypocritical courtship and marriage to a 
 pious rich young lady.] 
 
 Atten. And what was the other thing? 
 
 Wise. Why that which I hinted before, he was 
 for looking out for a rich wife; and Badman is for 
 now I am come to some more of his 
 invented, devised, designed, and abominable 
 roguery, such that will yet declare him to he a 
 most desperate sinner. 
 
 The thing was this: a wife he wanted, or rather 
 money; for as for a woman, he could have whores 
 enow at his whistle. But, as I said, he wanted 
 money, and that must he got by a p a ,] man ] ias a 
 wife or no way; nor could he so easily g^'y maili iu 
 
 X . . Ins eye. 
 
 get a wife neither, except he became 
 an artist at the way of dissembling; nor would 
 dissembling do among that people that could dis¬ 
 semble as well as he. But there He9eeltttoJ!et 
 dwelt a maid not far from him, that J»er, why, and 
 
 _ ._ IlUW* 
 
 was both godly, and one that had a 
 good portion, but how to get her, there lay all tho 
 craft. Well, he calls a council of some of his 
 most trusty and cunning companions, IIe calls ]lia 
 and breaks his mind to them; to wit, c °^ nion imi 
 that he had a mind to marry: and he iheyadVisehim 
 also told them to whom; hut, said he, howtogetki ' 
 how shall I accomplish my end; she is religious, 
 and I am not? Then one of them made reply, 
 saying, Since she is religious, you must pretend to 
 he so likewise, and that for some time before you 
 go to her. Mark therefore whither she goes daily 
 to hear, and do you go thither also; but there you 
 must be sure to behave yourself soberly, and make 
 as if you liked the Word wonderful well; stand 
 also where she may see you, and when you come 
 home, he sure that you walk the street very so- 
 
619 
 
 the life and death of mr. badman. 
 
 berlj, and go within sight of her. This done for 
 a while, then go to her, and first talk of how sorry 
 you are for your sins, and show great love to the 
 religion that she is of, still speaking well of her 
 preachers and of her godly acquaintance, bewail- 
 your hard hap that it was not your lot to be 
 acquainted with her and her fellow-professors 
 sooner; and this is the way to get her. Also you 
 must write down sermons, talk of scriptures, and 
 protest that you came a-wooing to her, only be¬ 
 cause she is godly, and because you should count 
 it } our greatest happiness if you might but have 
 such a one. As for her money, slight it, it will 
 be never the further off, that is the way to come 
 soonest at it, for she will be jealous at first that 
 .you come for her money; you know what she has, 
 but make not a word about it. Do this, and you 
 shall see if you do not entangle the lass. Thus 
 was the snare laid for this poor honest maid, and 
 she was quickly catched in his pit. 
 
 Atten. Why, did he take this counsel? 
 
 A ise. Did lie! yes, and after a while, went as 
 boldly to her, and that under a vizard of religion, 
 Badiinu goes to as if lie had been for honesty and 
 
 Besides he would he often telling of her what a 
 go v father he had, and what a new man he was 
 also become himself; and thus did this treacherous 
 dealer deal with this honest and good girl, to her 
 
 great grief and sorrow, as afterward you shall 
 hear. 
 
 Atten. But had the maid no friend to look after 
 her? 
 
 Wise. Iler father and mother were dead, and 
 that he knew well enough, and so she was the 
 more easily overcome by his naughty lying tongue. 
 But if she had never so many friends, she might 
 have been beguiled by him. It is too much the 
 custom of young people now, to think Neglect of coun- 
 themselves wise enough to make their 
 
 Badman obtains 
 bis desire, is 
 married, &c. 
 
 the damsel as . . 
 
 ins counsel ad- godliness one or the most sincere and 
 vised km. upright-hearted in England. He ob 
 served all bis points, and followed the advice of 
 his counsellors, and quickly obtained her too; for 
 natural parts he had; he was tall, and fair, and 
 had plain, but very good clothes on his back; and 
 his religion was the more easily attained; for he 
 had seen something in the house of his father, and 
 first master, and so could the more readily put 
 himself into the form and show thereof. 
 
 So he appointed his day, and went to her, as 
 Badman’s com- that he might easily do, for she had 
 
 TlllTTIPnf-. lii« . - J 7 
 
 plimeut, bis • i r - 
 
 neither father nor mother to oppose 
 
 jying 
 
 meut 
 
 compli- 
 
 Well, when he was come, and had 
 given her a civil compliment, to let her understand 
 why he was come, then he began and told her 
 that he had found in his heart a great deal of love 
 to her person; and that of all the damsels in the 
 world lie had pitched upon her, if she thought fit, 
 to make her his beloved wife. The reasons, as he 
 told her, why he had pitched upon her were her 
 religious and personal excellencies; and therefore 
 entreated her to take his condition into her tender 
 and loving consideration. As for the world, quoth 
 he, I have a very good trade, and can maintain 
 myself and family well, while my wife sits still on 
 her seat; I have got thus and thus much already, 
 and feel money come in every day, but that is not 
 the thing that I aim at; it is an honest and godly 
 wife. Then he would present her with a good 
 book or two, pretending how much good he had 
 got by them himself. He would also be often 
 speaking well of godly ministers, especially of 
 those that he perceived she liked, and loved most. 
 
 sel about mar 
 
 _ i riage danger- 
 
 own choice; and that they need not ous - 
 ask counsel of those that are older, and also wiser 
 than they; but this is a great fault in them, and 
 many of them have paid dear for it. Well, to be 
 short, in little time Mr. Badman obtains his de- 
 siie, gets this honest girl, and her 
 money, is married to her, brings her 
 home, makes a feast, entertains her 
 royally, but her portion must pay for all. 
 
 Atten. This was wonderful deceitful doings, a 
 man shall seldom hear of the like. 
 
 Wise. By this his doing, he showed how little 
 he feared God, and what little dread he had of his 
 judgments. For all this carriage, and all these 
 words were by him premeditated evil; he knew he 
 lied, he knew he dissembled; yea, he knew that 
 he made use of the name of God, of religion, good 
 men, and good books, but as a stalking-horse, 
 thereby the better to catch his game. 
 
 In all this his glorious pretence of re- ^udgecnmgofi- 
 ligion, he was but a glorious painted Iy ^ wicke(L 
 hypocrite, and hypocrisy is the highest sin that a 
 poor carnal wretch can attain unto; it is also a 
 sin that most dareth God, and that also bringetli 
 the greater damnation. Now was he a whited 
 wall, now was he a painted sepulchre. Mat. xxtti. 27. 
 Now was he a grave that appeared not. Lu. xi. a. 
 F 01 this poor, honest, godly damsel, little thought 
 that both her peace and comfort, and estate, and 
 liberty, and person, and all, were go- TIie 
 ing to her burial, when she was going tcratmn that 
 to be married to Mr. Badman; and pSSfto& 
 yet so it was, she enjoyed herself but mau ’ sw tfe. 
 little afterwards; she was as if she was dead and 
 buried to what she enjoyed before. 
 
 Atten. Certainly some wonderful judgment of 
 God must attend and overtake such wicked men 
 as these. 
 
 Wise. You may be sure that they shall have 
 judgment to the lull, for all these things, when 
 the day of judgment is come. But as for judg¬ 
 ment upon them in this life, it doth not always 
 come, no not upon those that are worthy thereof. 
 
G20 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 « They that tempt God are delivered, and they that 
 work wickedness are set up.’ Mai. m. 15. But they 
 are reserved to the day of wrath; and 
 
 E jSg C n»ent?sfor then, for their wickedness, God will 
 s u chthings. repay them t0 their faces. ‘The 
 
 wicked is reserved to the day of destruction; tney 
 shall be brought forth to the day of wrath. Who % 
 shall declare his way to his face ? and who shall 
 repay him what he hath done ? Yet shall lie be 
 brought to the grave, and shall remain in the 
 tomb.’ Job xxi. so— 32 . That is, oidinatily they 
 escape God’s hand in this life, save only a few 
 examples are made, that others may be cautioned, 
 and take warning thereby. But at the day of 
 judgment they must be rebuked for theii evil with 
 
 the lashes of devouring fire. 
 
 Atten. Can you give me no examples of God s 
 wrath upon men that have acted this tragical 
 wicked deed of Mr. Badman. 
 
 Wise. Yes; Hamor and Shecliem, and all the 
 
 An example of V men ° f their c[t ?\ f ? r attem P thl S t0 
 God’s anger on make God and religion the stalking- 
 
 SU heretofore horse to get Jacob’s daughters to wife, 
 SSKffi were together slain with the edge of 
 man - the sword. A judgment of God upon 
 
 them, no doubt, for their dissembling in that 
 matter. Ge. xxxiv. l. All manner of lying and dis¬ 
 sembling is dreadful, but to make God and leligion 
 a disguise, therewith to blind thy dissimulation 
 from others’ eyes, is highly provoking to the Divine 
 majesty. I knew one that dwelt not 
 far off from our town, that got him a 
 wife as Mr. Badman got his; but he did not enjoy 
 her long; for one night as he was riding home 
 from his companions, where he had been at a 
 neighbouring town, his horse threw him to the 
 ground, where he was found dead at break of da^ ; 
 frightfully and lamentably mangled with his fall, 
 and besmeared with his own blood. 
 
 Atten. Well, but pray return again to Mr. 
 Badman; how did he carry it to his wife, after he 
 was married to her? 
 
 Wise. Nay, let us take things along as we go. 
 lie had not been married but a little while, but liis 
 creditors came upon him for their money. He 
 deferred them a little while, but at last things 
 were come to that point that pay he 
 “maSS must, or must do worse; so he ap- 
 creditors come po i ntec [ them a time, and they came 
 
 ins v.-ife s por- for their money, and he payed them 
 that which his down with her money, before her eyes, 
 J'S for those goods that he had profusely 
 before bis mar- S p en t among his whores long before, 
 besides the portion that his father 
 gave him, to the value of two hundred pounds. 
 
 Atten. This beginning was bad, but what shall 
 I say? It was like Mr. Badman himself. Poor 
 woman! this was but a bad beginning lor her; 1 
 
 fear it filled her with trouble enough, as I think 
 such a beginning would have done one perhaps 
 much stronger than she. 
 
 Wise. Trouble, aye, you may be sure of it, but 
 now it was too late to repent; she should have 
 looked better to herself when being wary would 
 have done her good; her haims may s | ie reaps 
 be mi advantage to others that will 
 learn to take heed thereby, but for 
 herself, she must take what follows, even such a 
 life now as Mr. Badman her husband will lead her, 
 and that will be bad enough. 
 
 Atten. This beginning was bad, and yet I fear 
 it was but the beginning of bad. 
 
 Wise. You may be sure that it was but the be¬ 
 ginning of badness, for other evils Now Badman has 
 
 e ’ 0 £ * , nr . *j. got him a \'i e 
 
 came on apace ; as, lor instance, it religion> ] ie 
 
 was but a little while after he was 
 
 married, but he hangs his religion & entertains his 
 
 upon the hedge, or rather dealt 
 
 with it as men deal with their old clothes, who cast 
 
 them off, or leave them to others to wear, ioi his 
 
 part he would be religious no longer. 
 
 Now therefore he had pulled off his vizard, and 
 beo-an to show himself in his old shape, a base, 
 wicked, debauched fellow ; and now the poor 
 woman saw that she was betrayed indeed, now 
 also his old companions begin to flock about him, 
 and to haunt his house and shop as formerly. 
 And who with them but Mr. Badman? And who 
 with him again but they ? 
 
 Now those good people that used to company 
 with his wife began to be amazed and discouraged, 
 also he would frown and glout 1 upon He drives g00(1 
 them as if he abhorred the appearance comply from 
 of them, so that in little time he drove 
 all good company from her, and made her sit soli¬ 
 tary by herself. He also began now He goes to his 
 to go out a-niglits to those drabs who whores * 
 were his familiars before, with whom he would 
 stay sometimes till midnight, and sometimes till 
 almost morning, and then would come home as 
 drunk as a swine: and this was the course of Mi. 
 Badman. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 [he throws off the mask and cruelly treats 
 
 his wife.] 
 
 Now when he came home in this case, if his 
 wife did but speak a word to him about where he 
 had been and why he had so abused himself, though 
 her words were spoken in never so He rails at lus 
 much meekness and love, then she 
 was whore, and bitch, and jade! and it was well 
 if she missed his fingers and heels. Sometimes 
 
 1 ‘ Glout,’ to pout or look sulky; obsolete.- (En.) 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 621 
 
 a ‘ s ° ^oulcl bring his punks home to liis bouse, 
 anu woe be to liis wife when they were gone if she 
 did not entertain them with all varieties possible, 
 and also carry it lovingly to them. Thus this 
 good woman was made by Badman, her husband, 
 to possess nothing but disappointments as to all 
 that he had promised her, or that she hoped to 
 have at his hands. 
 
 But that that added pressing weight to all her 
 lie seeks to force sorr °' v wa s that, as lie had cast away 
 hi religion”” 1 * * f 11 reli S' ion himself, so he attempted, 
 if possible, to make her do so too. 
 He would not suffer her to go out to the preaching 
 of the word of Christ, nor to the rest of his ap° 
 pointments, for the health and salvation of her 
 
 He mocks at her s °uh lie would now taunt at and 
 preachers. reflectingly speak of her preachers, 
 
 and would receive, yea, raise scandals of them, to 
 her very great grief and affliction. 
 
 Now she scarce durst go to an honest neigh¬ 
 bour s house, or have a good book in her hand, 
 especially when he had his companions in his 
 house, or had got a little drink in his head. He 
 lie mocks his wou ^ a ^ so . when he perceived that 
 
 jectiou her de ' S ^ e Was ^ e j ec ^ e d* speak tauntingly 
 and mockingly to her in the presence 
 of his companions, calling of her his religious wife, 
 his demure dame, and the like, also he would 
 make a sport of her among his wanton ones 
 abroad. 
 
 If she did ask him, as sometimes she would, to 
 let her go out to a sermon, he would in a churlish 
 manner reply, Keep at home, keep at home and 
 He refuses to let *°°k to J l)Ur business, we cannot live 
 ^ hearh, g of sermons. If she sti 
 urged that he would let her go, the 
 he u ould say to her, Go if you dare. He woul 
 also charged her with giving of what he had t 
 her ministers, when, vile wretch, he had spent i 
 on his vain companions before. This was the lif 
 that Mr. Badman’s good wife lived, within fev 
 months after he had married her. 
 
 Atten. This was a disappointment indeed. 
 
 V> ise. A disappointment indeed, as ever I tliinl 
 
 poor woman had. One would think that the knave 
 might a little let her have had her will since it was 
 nothing but to be honest, and since she brought 
 him so sweet, so lumping af portion—for she brought 
 hundreds into his house—I say, one would think 
 ho should have let her had her own will a little, 
 since she desired it only in the service and wor¬ 
 ship of God; but could she win him to grant her 
 that? No, not a bit, if it would have saved her 
 
 She pets out ^ e * ^’ rue » sometimes she would steal 
 b y out when he was from home, or on a 
 journey, or among his drunken com¬ 
 panions, but with all privacy imaginable; and, 
 poor woman, this advantage she had she carried 
 
 it so to all her neighbours that, though many cf 
 them were but carnal, yet they would not betray 
 her, or tell of her going out to the Word if they 
 saw it, but would rather endeavour to hide it from 
 Mr. Badman himself. 
 
 Atten. This caiiiage of his to her was enough 
 to break her heart. 
 
 Wise. It was enough to do it indeed, yea, it did 
 effectually do it. It killed her in time, yea, it 
 was all the time a killing of her. She „ er rcpenta „ M 
 would oftentimes, when she sat by and complaint, 
 herself, thus mournfully bewail her condition :—■ 
 
 ‘ Woe is me that I sojourn in Meshech,’ and ‘ that 
 I dwell in the tents of Kedar! My soul hath 
 long dwelt with him that hateth peace.’ 0 ‘ what 
 shall be given unto thee,’ thou ‘ deceitful tongue?’ 
 
 or what shall be done unto thee, thou false 
 tongue?’ Ps.cxx. I am a woman grieved in spirit, my 
 husband has bought me and sold me for his lusts. 
 It was not me, but my money that he wanted ; 
 0 that he had had it, so I had had my liberty! 
 Ibis she said, not of contempt of his person, but 
 of his conditions, 1 and because she saw that, by his 
 hypocritical tongue, he had brought her not only 
 almost to beggary, but robbed her of the Word of 
 God. 
 
 Atten. It is a deadly thing, I see, to be un¬ 
 equally yoked with unbelievers. If t . 
 
 ... The evil of bem» 
 
 tills Woman had had a good hus- unequally yoked 
 
 band, how happily might they have togecher ‘ 
 
 lived together! Such an one would have prayed 
 
 foi hei, taught her, and also would have encouraged 
 
 her in the faith and ivays of God; but now, poor 
 
 creature, instead of this there is nothing but the 
 
 quite contrary. 
 
 M ise. It is a deadly thing indeed, and there¬ 
 fore, by the Word of God, his people are forbid 
 to be joined in marriage with them. ‘ Be ye not,’ 
 saitli it, ‘unequally yoked togetherwith unbelievers: 
 for what fellowship hath righteousness with un¬ 
 righteousness? and what communion hath light 
 with darkness? And what concord hath Christ 
 with Belial ? or what part hath he that believeth 
 with an infidel? and what agreement hath the 
 temple of God with idols?’ 2 Co. vi. h-ig. There 
 can be no agreement where such matches are 
 made; even God himself hath declared the con¬ 
 trary from the beginning of the world. ‘ I,’ says 
 he, ‘ will put enmity between thee and the woman, 
 and between thy seed and her seed.’ Ge. m. is. 
 Iheiefore he saitli in another place they can mix 
 no better than iron and clay. Da ii. 43. I say they 
 cannot agree, they cannot be one, and therefore 
 they should be aware at first, and not lightly 
 receive such into their affections. God has 
 
 1 This is one of the hardest lessons a disciple has to learu 
 
 in the school of Christ; not to hate the sinner, but the sir. • 
 
 especially under circumstances of such cruel deception.—(El)./ 
 
622 
 
 THE LTFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 often made sucli matches bitter, especially to his 
 own. Such matches are, as God said of Eli s 
 sons that were spared, to consume the eyes and to 
 grieve the heart. 0 ! the wailing and lamentation 
 that they have made that have been thus yoked, 
 especially if they were such as would he so yoked 
 against their light and good counsel to the contrary,^ 
 
 Atten. Alas! he deluded her with his tongue, 
 and feigned reformation. 
 
 Wise. Well, well, she should have gone more 
 Good counsel to warily to work. A hat if she had 
 IS that°are acquainted some of her best, most 
 to marry. knowing, and godly friends therewith? 
 What if she had engaged a godly minister or two 
 to have talked with Mr. Badman? Also, what if 
 she had laid wait round about him, to espy if he 
 was not otherwise behind her back than he was 
 before her face? And besides I verily think— 
 since in the multitude of couscllors there is safety 
 —that if she had acquainted the congregation with 
 it, and desired them to spend some time in prayer to 
 God about it, and if she must have had him, to have 
 received him as to his godliness upon the judgment 
 of others, rather than her own—she knowing them 
 to be godly and judicious and unbiassed men—she 
 had had more peace all her life after, than to 
 trust to her own poor, raw, womanish judgment as 
 she did. Love is blind, and will see nothing amiss 
 where others may see a hundred faults. There¬ 
 fore I say she should not have trusted to her own 
 thoughts in the matter of his goodness. 
 
 As to his person, there she was fittest to judge, 
 because she was to be the person pleased, but as to 
 his godliness, there the Word was the fittest judge, 
 and they that could best understand it, because God 
 a caution to was therein to be pleased. I wish 
 young maidens, that all young maidens will take heed 
 
 of being beguiled with flattering words, with feign¬ 
 ing and lying speeches, and take the best way to 
 preserve themselves from being bought and sold by 
 wicked men as she was, lest they repent with her, 
 when, as to this, repentance will do them no good, 
 but for their unadvisedness go sorrowing to their 
 
 graves. 
 
 Atten. Well things are past with this poor 
 T . ,, , woman and cannot be called back, let 
 
 man’s wife be others beware by her misfortunes, lest 
 also fall into her distress. 
 
 Wise. That is the thing that 1 say, let them 
 take heed, lest for their unadvisedness they smart, 
 as this poor woman has done. And ah! methinks, 
 that they that yet are single persons, and that are 
 tempted to marry to such as Mr. Badman, would, 
 to inform and warn themselves in this matter before 
 they entangle themselves, but go to some that 
 already are in the snare, and ask them how it is 
 with them, as to the suitable or unsuitableness of 
 their marriage, and desire their advice. Surely 
 
 they would ring such a peal in their ears about ths 
 unequality, unsuitableness, disadvantages, and dis- 
 quietments, and sins that attend such marriages, 
 that would make them beware as long as they live. 
 But the bird in the air knows not the notes of the 
 bird in the snare until she comes thither herself. 
 Besides, to make up such marriages, Satan and 
 carnal reason, and lust, or at least inconsiderate¬ 
 ness, has the chiefest hand ; and where these things 
 bear sway, designs, though never so destructive, 
 will go headlong on; and therefore I fear that but 
 little warning will be taken by young girls at Mr. 
 Badman’s wife’s affliction. 
 
 Atten. But are there no dissuasive arguments 
 to lay before such, to prevent their future misery ? 
 
 Wise. Yes : there is the law of God, that for- 
 biddeth marriage with unbelievers. These kind 
 of marriages also are condemned even by irrational 
 creatures. 1. It is forbidden by the law of God, 
 both in the Old Testament and in the New. 1. In 
 the Old. Thou shalt not ‘ make marriages with 
 them; thy daughter thou shalt not give unto his 
 son, nor his daughter shalt thou take unto thy son. 
 De. vii. 3. 2. In the New Testament it is forbidden. 
 
 ‘ Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbe¬ 
 lievers,’ let them marry to whom they will, * only 
 in the Lord.’ 2 Co. vi. 14—1 6 . 1C0. vii. 39. 
 
 Here now is a prohibition, plainly forbidding 
 the believer to marry with the uube- Ry le3 [°5 lhoaa 
 liever, therefore they should not do it. marry. 
 Again, these unwarrantable marriages are, as I 
 may so say, condemned by irrational creatures, who 
 will not couple but with their own sort. Will the 
 sheep couple with a dog, the partridge with a 
 crow, or the pheasant with an owl? No, they wili 
 strictly tie up themselves to those of their own sort 
 only. Yea, it sets all the world a wondering, when 
 they see or hear the contrary. Man only is most 
 subject to wink at, and allow of these unlawful mix¬ 
 tures of men and women; because man only is 
 a sinful beast, a sinful bird, therefore he, above all, 
 wili take upon him, by rebellious actions, to answer, 
 or rather to oppose and violate the law of his God 
 and Creator; nor shall these or other interrog¬ 
 atories, What fellowship? what concord? what 
 agreement? what communion can there be in such 
 
 O 
 
 marriages ? be counted of weight or thought worth 
 the answering by him, 
 
 But further, the dangers that such do commonly 
 run themselves into, should be to others a dissuasive 
 argument to stop them from doing the if you love your 
 like: for besides the distresses of Mr. soul take heed. 
 
 Badman’s wife, many that have had very hopeful 
 beginnings for heaven, have, by virtue of the mis¬ 
 chiefs that have attended these unlawful marriages, 
 miserably and fearfully miscarried. Soon after 
 such marriages, conviction, the first step towards 
 heaven, hath ceased ; prayer, the next step towards 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 6.23 
 
 hea\cn, hath ceased; hungerings and thirstings 
 after salvation, another step towards the kingdom 
 of heaven, hath ceased. In a word, such marriages 
 have estranged them from the Word, from their 
 godly and faithful friends, and have brought them 
 again into carnal company, among carnal friends, 
 and also into carnal delights, where, and with 
 whom, they have in conclusion both sinfully abode, 
 and miserably perished. 
 
 And this is one reason why God hath forbidden 
 this kind of unequal marriages. ‘ For they,’ saitli 
 he, meaning the ungodly, * * will turn away thy son 
 from following me, that they may serve other gods ; 
 so n ill the anger of the Lord be kindled against 
 you, and destroy thee suddenly.’ De. vii. 4. Now 
 mark, there were some in Israel, that would not¬ 
 withstanding this prohibition, venture to marry to 
 the heathens and unbelievers. But what followed? 
 
 ‘ They served their idols, they sacrificed their sons 
 and their daughters unto devils. Thus were they 
 defiled with their own works, and went a whoring 
 with their own inventions; therefore was the wrath 
 of the Lord kindled against his people, insomuch 
 that he abhorred his own inheritance.’ Ps. cvi. 36—40. 
 
 Atten. But let us return again to Mr. Badman ; 
 had he any children by his wife? 
 
 Wise. Yes, seven. 
 
 Atten. I doubt they were but badly brought up. 
 
 Wise. One of them loved its mother dearly, and 
 Bad man’s chil- would constantly hearken to her voice. 
 Lad by this good Now that child she had the opportunity 
 woman. to instruct in the principles of Chris¬ 
 
 tian religion, and it became a very gracious child. 
 But that child Mr. Badman could not abide, he 
 would seldom afford it a pleasant word, but would 
 scowl and frown upon it, speak churlishly and 
 doggedly to it, and though, as to nature, it was 
 the most feeble of the seven, yet it oftenest felt the 
 weight of its father’s fingers. Three of his children 
 did directly follow his steps, and began to be as 
 vde as, in his youth, he was himself. The other 
 that remained became a kind of mongreP profes¬ 
 sors, not so bad as their father, nor so good as 
 their mother, but were betwixt them both. They 
 had their mother’s notions, and their father’s 
 actions, and were much like those that you read of 
 in the book of Nehemiah; these children were half 
 of Aslidod, ‘ and could not speak in the Jews’ lan¬ 
 guage, but according to the language of each 
 people.’ Ne. xiii. 21. 
 
 Atten. What you say in this matter is observ¬ 
 able, and if I take not my mark amiss, it often 
 happeneth after this manner where such unlawful 
 marriages are contracted. 
 
 ^ ise. It sometimes doth so, and the reason, 
 
 1 Mixed, impure. 
 
 * ’Tis true, the cause is in the lurch . 
 
 Between the right and mongrel church.’— IluJibras. —(Ed.) 
 
 with respect to their parents, is this. Where the 
 one of the parents is godly, and the other ungodly 
 and vile, though they can agree in begetting of chil- 
 dren, yet they strive for their children IIowUle , mgoal , 
 when they are born. The godly parent lather, and a 
 strives for the child, and by prayers, 
 counsel, and good examples, labours to 
 make it holy in body and soul, and so 
 fit for the kingdom of heaven ; but the ungodly 
 would have it like himself, wicked, and base, and 
 
 fattier, and god¬ 
 ly mother do 
 strive for the 
 children that 
 God doth give 
 them. 
 
 sinful; and so they both give instructions accord¬ 
 ingly. Instructions did I say? yea, and examples 
 too according to their minds. Thus the godlv, as 
 Hannah, is presenting her Samuel unto the Lord: 
 but the ungodly, like them that went before them, 
 are for offering their children to Moloch, to an idol, 
 to sin, to the devil, and to hell. Thus one heark- 
 eneth to the law of their mother and is preserved 
 from destruction, but as for the other, as their 
 fathers did, so do they. Thus did Mr. Badman 
 and his wife part some of their children betwixt 
 
 them; but as for the other three that were, as it 
 were, mongrels, betwixt both, they were like unto 
 those that you read of in Kings, they feared the 
 Lord, but served their own idols. 2 Ki. xvii. They 
 bad, as I said, tlieir mother’s notions, and I will 
 add, profession too; but their father’s lusts, and 
 something of his life. Now tlieir father did not 
 like^them, because they had their mother’s tongue; 
 and the mother did not like them because they had 
 still their father’s heart and life; nor were they 
 indeed fit company for good or bad. The good 
 would not trust them because they were bad, the 
 bad would not trust them because they were good; 
 namely, the good would not trust them because 
 they were bad in tlieir lives, and the bad would 
 not trust them because they were good in their 
 words. So they were forced with Esau to join in 
 affinity with Ishmael; to wit, to look out a people 
 that were hypocrites like themselves, and with them 
 they matched, and lived, and died. 
 
 Atten. Poor woman, she could not but have 
 much perplexity. 
 
 Wise. Yea, and poor children, that ever they 
 were sent into the world as the fruit of the loins, 
 and under the government of such a father as Mr. 
 Badman. 
 
 Atten. You say right, for such children lie al¬ 
 most under all manner of disadvantages: hut we 
 must say nothing, because this also is the sovereign 
 will of God. 
 
 Wise. We may not by any means object against 
 God; yet we may talk of the advantages and dis¬ 
 advantages that children have by having for tlieir 
 parents such as are either godly or the contrary. 
 
 Atten. You say right, we may so, and pray 
 now, since we are about it, speak something in 
 brief unto it, that is, unto this: what advantage 
 
 O 
 
624 
 
 TIIE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 those children have above others, that have for 
 their parents such as indeed are godly? 
 
 Wise. So I will, only I must first premise these 
 two or three things. 1. They have not the advan- 
 
 . , tao-e of election for their fathers’ sakes. 
 
 T!ie advantages » . . „ 
 
 that children 2. They are horn as others, the elm- 
 parents " ^ are dren of wrath, though they come of 
 both godly. godly parents. 3. Grace comes not 
 
 unto them as an inheritance, because they have 
 godly parents. These things premised I shall now 
 proceed. 
 
 1. The children of godly parents are the children 
 of many prayers. They are prayed for before, 
 and prayed for after they are born; and the prayer 
 of a godly father and godly mother doth much. 
 2. They have the advantage of what restraint 
 is possible, from what evils their parents see them 
 inclinable to, and that is a second mercy. 3. They 
 have the advantage of godly instruction, and of 
 being told which be and which be not the right 
 ways of the Lord. 4. They have also those ways 
 commended unto them, and spoken well of in their 
 hearing, that are good. 5. Such are also, what 
 may be kept out of evil company, from evil books, 
 and from being taught the way of swearing, lying, 
 and the like, as sabbath-breaking, and mocking at 
 good men and good things, and this is a very great 
 mercy. 6. They have also the benefit of a godly 
 life set before them doctrinally by their parents, 
 and that doctrine backed with a godly and holy 
 example. And all these are very great advantages. 
 
 Now all these advantages the children of ungodly 
 _. ,. , parents want; and so are more in 
 
 tapes that the danger of being carried away with 
 godly e parents the error of the wicked. For ungodly 
 have * parents neither pray for their children, 
 
 nor do nor can they heartily instruct them; they do 
 not after a godly manner restrain them from evil, nor 
 do they keep them from evil company. They arc 
 not grieved at, nor yet do they forewarn their chil¬ 
 dren to beware of such evil actions that are abomina¬ 
 tion to God and to all good men. They let their 
 children break the sabbath, swear, lie, be wicked 
 and vain. They commend not to their children a 
 holy life, nor set a good example before their eyes. 
 No, they do in all things contrary: estranging of 
 their children what they can, from the love of God 
 and all good men, so soon as they are bora. 
 Therefore it is a very great judgment of God upon 
 children, to be the offspring of base and ungodly 
 men. Job xxx. 8 . 
 
 Atten. Well, but before we leave Mr. Badman’s 
 wife and children, I have a mind, if you please, to 
 inquire a little more after one thing, the which I 
 am sure you can satisfy me in. 
 
 Wise. What is that? 
 
 Atten. You said a while ago that this Mr. Bad- 
 man would not suffer his wife to go out to hear 
 
 such godly ministers as she liked, but said, if she 
 did, she had as good never come home any more. 
 Did he often carry it thus to her? 
 
 Wise. He did say so, he did often say so. This 
 I told you then, and had also then told you more, 
 but that other things put me out. 
 
 Atten. Well said; pray, therefore, now go on. 
 
 Wise. So I will. Upon a time, she was, on a 
 Lord’s day, for going to hear a sermon, and Mr. 
 Badman was unwilling she should; but she at that 
 time, as it seems, did put on more courage than 
 she was wont; and, therefore, after she had spent 
 upon him a great many fair words and entreaties, 
 if nerliaps she might have prevailed by a contest be- 
 them, but all to no purpose at ali, at man ail(l hl3 
 last she said she Avould go, and ren- Wlle - 
 dered this reason for it: I have a husband, but 
 also a God; my God has commanded me, and that 
 upon pain of damnation, to be a continual wor¬ 
 shipper of him, and that in the way of his own ap¬ 
 pointments. I have a husband, but also a soul, 
 and my soul ought to be more unto me than all the 
 world besides. This soul of mine I will look after, 
 care for, and, if I can, provide it a heaven for its 
 habitation. You are commanded to love me, as 
 you love your own body, and so do I love you; but 
 I tell you true, I prefer my soul before all the world, 
 and its salvation I will seek. 1 Ep. v. 28. 
 
 At this, first he gave her an ugly wish, and then 
 fell into a fearful rage, and sware Now with what 
 moreover that if she did go, he would niau P °did ^eal 
 make both her and all her damnable with bis wife, 
 brotherhood, for so he was pleased to call them, to 
 repent their coming thither. 
 
 Atten. But what should he mean by that? 
 
 Wise. You may easily guess what he meant. 
 He meant he would turn informer, 2 and so either 
 weary out those that she loved from meeting to¬ 
 gether to worship God, or make them pay dearly 
 for their so doing, the which, if he did, he knew it 
 would vex every vein of her tender heart. 
 
 Atten. But do you think Mr. Badman would 
 have been so base ? 
 
 Wise. Truly he had malice and enmity enough 
 in his heart to do it, only he was a tradesman; also 
 he knew that he must live by his neighbours, and 
 so he bad that little wit in his anger, that he re- 
 
 1 Such were the sound reasons which animated the martyrs 
 to resist unjust human laws, interfering with or directing the 
 mode of divine worship; and such are the reasons which pre¬ 
 vent conformity to national religions, to the payment of church 
 rates, and similar ungodly impositions.—(E d ) 
 
 2 The Quakers braved the storm, met in public, and appeared 
 to court persecution. Not so the Baptists; they met in 
 woods and caves, and with such secrecy that it was not possible 
 to detect them, unless by an informer. William Penn taunfed 
 them in these words : ‘ they resolve to keep their old haunt of 
 creeping into garrets, cheese-lofts, coalholes, and such like 
 nice walks.’ And so would I, rather than be disturbed by con¬ 
 stables.—(E d.) 
 
625 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 framed himself and did it not. But, as I said, he 
 had malice and envy enough in his heart to have 
 
 Mr. Badman*. mad ° ,lim to . !t - he thought it 
 heart discover- would worst him in his trade: yet these 
 
 ed ns tn its pn. . * . •» . , 7 J 
 
 niity against ^ iree things he would be doing: 1. 
 to, rifl nda ° f He would bo putting of others on to 
 molest and abuse her friends. 2. He 
 would he glad when he heard that any mischief 
 befel them. 3. And would laugh at her when he 
 saw her troubled for them. And now I have told 
 you Mr. Badman’s way as to this. 
 
 Atten. But was he not afraid of the judgments 
 of God that did fly about at that time ? 
 
 M ise. He regarded not the judgment nor mercy 
 of God, for had he at all done that he could not 
 have done as he did. But what judgments do you 
 mean ? 
 
 . Atten. kuch judgments, that if Mr. Badman 
 himself had taken but sober notice of, they might 
 have made him a hung down his ears. 
 
 Wise. Why, have you heard of any such per¬ 
 sons that the judgments of God have overtaken. 
 
 Atten. Yes, and so, I believe, have you too, 
 though you make so strange about it. 
 
 Wise. I have so indeed, to my astonishment and 
 wonder. 
 
 Atten. Pray, therefore, if you please, tell me 
 what it is, as to this, that you know; and then, per¬ 
 haps, I may also say something to you of the same. 
 
 Wise. In our town there was one W. S., a man 
 Mark. of a very wicked life; and he, when 
 there seemed to be countenance given 
 to it, would needs turn informer. Well, so he did, 
 and was as diligent in his business as most of them 
 could be; he would watch of nights, climb trees, 
 and range the woods of days, if possible, to find 
 out the ineeters,. for then they were forced to meet 
 in the fields; yea, he would curse them bitterly, 
 and swear most fearfully what he would do to 
 them when he found them. Well, after he had 
 gone on like a bedlam in his course awhile, and 
 had done some mischiefs to the people, he was 
 stricken by the hand of God, and that in this man¬ 
 ner : 1. Although he had his tongue naturally at 
 will, now he was taken with a faltering in his 
 speech, and could not for weeks together speak 
 otherwise than just like a man that was drunk. 
 2. Then he was taken with a drauling, or slabber¬ 
 ing at his mouth, which slabber sometimes would 
 hang at his mouth well nigh half-way down to the 
 ground, o. Then he had such a weakness in the 
 back sinews of his neck, that ofttimes he could 
 not look up before him, unless he clapped his hand 
 hard upon his forehead, and held up his head that 
 way, by strength of hand. 4. After this his speech 
 went quite away, and he could speak no more than 
 a swine or a bear. Therefore, like one of them, 
 
 he would gruntle and make an ugly noise, accord- 
 VOL. III. 
 
 ing as he was offended, or pleased, or would havo 
 anything done, &c. 
 
 In this posture he continued for the spaco of half 
 a year or thereabouts, all the while otherwise well, 
 and could go about his business, save once that lie 
 had a fall from the bell as it hangs in our steeple, 
 which it was a wonder it did not kill him. But 
 after that he also walked about, until God had 
 made a sufficient spectacle of his judgment for his 
 sin, and then on a sudden he was stricken, and 
 died miserably; and so there was an end of him 
 and his doings. 
 
 I will tell you of another. About four miles 
 from St. Neots, there was a gentleman 
 had a man, and he would needs be an 
 informer, and a lusty young man he was. Well, 
 an informer he was, and did much distress some 
 people, and had perfected his informations so effect¬ 
 ually against some, that there was nothing further 
 to do but for the constables to make distress on the 
 people, that he might have the money or goods; 
 and, as I heard, he hastened them much to do it. 
 Now, while he was in the heat of his work, as lie 
 stood one day by the fire-side, he had, it should 
 seem, a mind to a sop in the pan, for the spit was 
 then at the fire, so he went to make him one; but 
 behold, a dog, some say his own dog, took distaste 
 at something, and bit his master by the leg ; the 
 which bite, notwithstanding all the means that was 
 used to cure him, turned, as was said, to a gan¬ 
 grene ; however, that wound was his death, and 
 that a dreadful one too. Bor my relator said that 
 he lay in such a condition by this bite, as the be¬ 
 ginning, until his flesh rotted from off him before he 
 went out of the world. But what need I instance 
 in particular persons; when the judgment of God 
 against this kind of people was made manifest, I 
 think I may say, if not in all, yet in most of the 
 counties in England where such poor creatures 
 were. But I would, if it had been the will of God, 
 that neither I nor anybody else, could tell you more 
 of these stories ; true stories, that are neither lie 
 nor romance. 
 
 Atten. Well, 1 also heard of both these myself, 
 and of more too, as remarkable in their kind as 
 these, if I had any list to tell them ; but let us 
 leave those that are behind to others, or to the 
 coming of Christ, who then will justify or condemn 
 them, as the merit of their work shall require ; or 
 if they repented, and found mercy, 1 shall be glad 
 when I know it, for I wish not a curse to the soul 
 of mine enemy. 
 
 Wise. There can be no pleasure in the telling of 
 such stories, though to hear of them may do us a 
 pleasure. They may put us in mind that there is 
 a God that judgeth in the earth, and that doth not 
 always forget nor defer to hear the cry of the des¬ 
 titute ; they also carry along with them both can* 
 
626 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BA DMA N. 
 
 tion and counsel to those that are the survivors of 
 such. Let us tremble at the judgments of God, 
 and be afraid of sinning against him, and it shall 
 be our protection. It shall go well with them that 
 fear God, that fear before him. 
 
 Atten. Well, Sir, as you have intimated, so I 
 think we have, in this place, spoken enough about 
 these kind of men; if you please, let us return again 
 to Mr. Badman himself, if you have any more to 
 say of him. 
 
 Wise. More ! we have yet scarce thoroughly 
 begun with anvthing that we have said. All the 
 particulars are in themselves so full of badness, 
 that we have rather only looked in them, than in¬ 
 deed said anything to them; but we will pass them 
 and proceed. You have heard of the sins of his 
 youth, of his apprenticeship, and how he set up, 
 and married, and what a life he hath led his wife; 
 and now I will tell you some more of his pranks. 
 
 New discourse He had the very knack of knavery; 
 of Mr. Badman. p a( | i ie> as j sa i c l before, been bound 
 
 to serve an apprenticeship to all these things, he 
 could not have been more cunning, he could not 
 have been more artificial at it. 
 
 Atten. Nor perhaps so artificially neither. For 
 as none can teach goodness like to God himself, 
 so, concerning sin and knavery, none can teach 
 a man it like the devil, to whom, as I perceive, 
 Mr. Badman went to school from his childhood to 
 the end of his life. But, pray, Sir, make a be¬ 
 ginning. 
 
 Wise. Well, so I will. You may remember that 
 I told you what a condition he was in for money 
 before he did marry, and how he got a rich wife, 
 with whose money he paid his debts. Now, when 
 he had paid his debts, he having some money left, 
 he sets up again as briskly as ever, keeps a great 
 shop, drives a great trade, and runs again a great 
 way into debt; but now not into the debt of one or 
 „ D . two, but into the debt of many, so that 
 plays a new at last he came to owe some thousands, 
 yrauk ‘ and thus he went on a good while. 
 
 And, to pursue his ends the better, be began now to 
 study to please all men, and to suit himself to any 
 company; he could now be as they, say as they, 
 that is, if he listed; and then he would list, when 
 he perceived that by so doing he might either make 
 them his customers or creditors for his commodities. 
 If he dealt with honest men, as with some honest 
 men he did, then he would be as they, talk as they, 
 seem to be sober as they, talk of justice and reli¬ 
 gion as they, and against debauchery as they; yea, 
 and would too seem to show a dislike of them that 
 said, did, or were otherwise than honest. 
 
 Again, when he did light among those that were 
 bad, then he would be as they, but yet more close 
 and cautiously, except he were sure of his com¬ 
 pany. Then he would carry it openly, be as they, 
 
 say, damn them and sink them 1 as they. If they 
 railed on good men, so could he; if they railed on 
 religion, so could he; if they talked beastly, 
 vainly, idly, so would he; if they were Mr. Bad man ’3 
 for drinking, swearing, whoring, or peifectums. 
 any the like villainies, so was he. This was now 
 the path he trod in, and could do all artificially as 
 any man alive. And now he thought himself a 
 perfect man, he thought he was always a boy till 
 now. What think you now of Mr. Badman? 
 
 Atten. Think! why I think he was an atheist; 
 for no man but an atheist can do this. I say it 
 cannot be but that the man that is such as this 
 Mr. Badman must be a rank and stinking atheist, 
 
 for he that believes that there is either God or 
 devil, heaven or hell, or death and judgment after, 
 cannot do as Mr. Badman did; I mean if he could 
 do these things without reluctancy and check of 
 conscience, yea, if he had not sorrow and remorse 
 for such abominable sins as these. 
 
 Wise. Nay, he was so far off from reluctances 
 and remorse of conscience for these things, that 
 he counted them the excellency of his attainments, 
 the quintessence of his wit, his rare and singular 
 virtues, such as but few besides himself could be 
 the masters of. Therefore, as for those that 
 made boggle and stop at things, and that could 
 not in conscience, and for fear of death and judg¬ 
 ment, do such things as he, he would call them 
 fools and noddies , 2 and charge them for being 
 frighted with the talk of unseen bugbears, and 
 would encourage them, if they would be men in¬ 
 deed, to labour after the attainment of this his 
 excellent art. He would oftentimes please him¬ 
 self with the thoughts of what he could do in this 
 matter, saying within himself, I can be religious 
 and irreligious, I can be anything or nothing; I 
 can swear, and speak against swear- How Mr> Bad _ 
 ing; I can lie, and speak against lying; nwn came to 
 
 _ 0 , . ’ f . 0 , 1 enjoy lnmseli. 
 
 I can drink, wench, be unclean, ana 
 
 defraud, and not be troubled for it. Now I 
 
 enjoy myself, and am master of mine own ways, 
 and not they of me. This I have attained with 
 much study, great care, and more pains. But this 
 his talk should be only with himself, to his wife, 
 who he knew durst not divulge it, or among his 
 intimates, to whom he knew he might say any 
 thing 
 
 Atten. Did I call him before an atheist? I may 
 call him now a devil, or a man possessed with one, 
 
 if not with manv. I think that there cannot bo 
 
 «/ 
 
 found in every corner such a one as this. True, 
 it is said of king Aliaz that he sinned more and 
 
 1 Sink them is an unusual kind of oath, wishing that body 
 or mind might he depressed. Sliakspeare uses the word in 
 reference to mental suffering: ‘If I have a conscience, let it 
 sink me/—(E d.) 
 
 2 Noddy, a simpleton; see Imperial Dictionary. —(Ed.) 
 
THE LTFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 627 
 
 more. 2 Ch. xxviii. 22. And of Ahab, that lie sold 
 ' himself to work wickedness.* 1 Ki. xxi. 25. And of 
 the men of Sodom, that they ‘ were sinners before 
 the Lord exceedingly,’ Ge. xiii, 13. 
 
 Wise. An atheist he was no doubt, if there be 
 such a thing as an atheist in the world; but for 
 all his brags of perfection and security in his 
 wickedness, I believe that at times God did let 
 down fire from heaven into his conscience. Job xxi. 17. 
 True, I believe he would quickly put it out again, 
 and grow more wicked and desperate afterward, 
 but this also turned to his destruction, as after¬ 
 ward you may hear. 
 
 But I am not of your mind to think that there 
 are but few such in the world, except you mean as 
 to the degree of wickedness unto which he had 
 
 There are abund- attaine d- For otherwise, no doubt, 
 
 ance like Mr. there is abundance of such as he : 
 Madman. „ ’ 
 
 men of the same mind, of the same 
 
 principles, and of the same conscience too, to put 
 them into practice. Yea, I believe that there 
 are many that are endeavouring to attain to the 
 same pitch of wickedness, and all them are such 
 as he in the judgment of the law, nor will their 
 want of hellish wit to attain thereto excuse them 
 at the day of judgment. You know that in all 
 science some are more arch than some, and so it 
 is in the art as well as in the practice of wicked¬ 
 ness, some are two-fold and some seven-fold more 
 the children of hell than others—and yet all the 
 children of hell—else they would all be masters, 
 and none scholars in the school of wickedness. 
 But there must be masters, and there must be 
 learners; Mr. Badman was a master in this art, 
 and therefore it follows that he must be an arch 
 and chief one in that mystery. 
 
 Atten. You are in the right, for I perceive that 
 some men, though they desire it, are not so arch 
 in the practice thereof as others, but are, as I sup¬ 
 pose they call them, fools and dunces to the rest, 
 their heads and capacities will not serve them to 
 act and do so wickedly. But Mr. Badman wanted 
 not a wicked head to contrive, as well as a wicked 
 heart to do his wickedness. 
 
 Wise. True, but yet I say such men shall at 
 the day of judgment be judged, not only for what 
 they are, but also for what they would be. For 
 if ‘ the thought of foolishness is sin,’ doubtless the 
 desire of foolishness is more sin; and if the desire 
 be more, the endeavour after it must needs be 
 He tiiat would more and more. rs. xxiv. 9. He then 
 be baa is aud. that is not an artificial atheist and 
 
 transgressor, yet if I10 desires to be so, if he en- 
 deavourcth to be so, he shall be judged and con¬ 
 demned to hell for such a one. For the law 
 judgeth men, as I said, according to what they 
 would be. He that ‘ looketli on a woman to lust 
 after her, hath committed adultery with her already 
 
 in his heart.* Mat. v. 28. By the same rule, lie that 
 would steal doth steal; lie that would cheat, doth 
 cheat; lie that would swear, doth swear; and he 
 that would commit adultery, doth do so. For 
 God judgeth men according to the working of their 
 minds, and saith, ‘As he thinketh, so is he.’ rr.xxiii.7. 
 That is, so is he in his heart, in his intentions, in 
 his desires, in his endeavours; and God’s law, I 
 say, lays hold of the desires, intentions, and en¬ 
 deavours, even as it lays hold of the act of wicked¬ 
 ness itself. Mat. v. Ro. vii. 7. A man then that desires 
 to be as bad as Mr. Badman, and desires to be so 
 wicked have many in their hearts, though lie 
 never attains to that proficiency in wickedness as 
 he, shall be judged for as bad a man as he, be¬ 
 cause it was in his desires to be such a wicked 
 one. 
 
 Atten. But this height of wickedness in Mr. 
 Badman will not yet out of my mind. This hard, 
 desperate, or, what shall I call it, diabolical frame 
 of heart, was in him a foundation, a ground-work 
 to all acts and deeds that were evil. 
 
 Wise. The heart, and the desperate wickedness 
 of it, is the foundation and ground-work of all. 
 
 Atheism, professed and practical, . . , , 
 
 . , - 1 1 * A bad Heart 
 
 spring both out of the heart, yea, makes a bad 
 and all manner of evil besides. For man ‘ 
 they be not bad deeds that make a bad man, but 
 he is already a bad man that doth bad deeds. A 
 man must be wicked before he can do wickedness. 
 
 ‘ Wickedness proceedeth from the wicked.’ i sa. 
 xxiv. 13. It is an evil tree that bears evil fruit. 
 Men gather no grapes of thorns; the heart there¬ 
 fore must be evil before the man can do evil, and 
 good before the man doth good. Mat. vii. 16 - 18 . 
 
 Atten. Now I see the reason why Mr. Badman 
 was so base as to get a wife by dissimulation, and 
 to abuse her so like a villain when he had got her, 
 it was because he was before, by a wicked heart, 
 prepared to act wickedness. 
 
 Wise. You may be sure of it, * For from with¬ 
 in, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, 
 adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetous¬ 
 ness, wickedness, deceit, lasciviousness, an evil eye, 
 blasphemy, pride, foolishness: all these things come 
 from within and defile the man.’ Mar.vii.20-23. And 
 a man, as his naughty mind inclines him, makes 
 use of these, or any of these, to gratify his lust, 
 to promote his designs, to revenge his malice, to 
 enrich, or to wallow himself in the foolish pleasures 
 and pastimes of this life. And all these did Mr. 
 Badman do, even to the utmost, if either oppor¬ 
 tunity, or purse, or perfidiousness, would help him 
 to the obtaining of his purpose. 
 
 Atten. Purse! why he could not but have purse 
 to do almost what he would, having married a wife 
 with so much money. 
 
 Wise. Hold you there; some of Mr. Badman*s 
 
628 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 sins were costly, as Ills drinking, and whoring, and 
 keeping other bad company ; though he was a man 
 that had ways too many to get money, as well as 
 ways too many to spend it. 
 
 Atten. Had he then such a good trade, for all 
 he was such a had man? Or was his calling so 
 gainful to him as always to keep his purse s belly 
 full, though he was himself a great spender? 
 
 Wise. No, it was not his trade that did it, 
 though he had a pretty trade too. He had another 
 way to get money, and that by hatfuls and pocket¬ 
 fuls at a time. 
 
 Atten. Why I trow he was no highwayman, 
 was he? 
 
 Wise. I will he sparing in my speech as to that, 
 though some have muttered as if he could ride out 
 now and then, about nobody hut himself knew 
 what, over night, and come home all dirty and 
 weary next morning. But that is not the thing 
 I aim at. 
 
 Atten. Pray let me know it, if you think it 
 convenient that I should. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 [BADMAN IS A BANKRUPT, AND GETS BY IT ‘ HATFULS 
 
 OF MONEY.’] 
 
 so sure of what he had, that his creditors could not 
 touch a penny. Well, when he had done, he sends 
 his mournful sugared letters to his Mr> Ba d man ’ g 
 creditors, to let them understand what wds t° 
 
 had happened unto him, and desired 
 them not to he severe with him, for he bore to¬ 
 wards all men an honest mind, and would pay so 
 
 far as he was able. Now he sends Badman , s frien(L 
 his letters by a man confederate with 
 him, who could make both the worst and best of 
 Mr Baflman’s case: the best for Mr. Badman and 
 
 the worst for his creditors. So when he comes to 
 them he both bemoans them and condoles Mr. 
 Badman’s condition, telling of them that, without 
 a speedy bringing of things to a conclusion, Mr. 
 Badman would be able to make them no satisfac¬ 
 tion, but at present he both could and would, and 
 that to the utmost of his power, and to that end he 
 desired that they would come over to him. Well, 
 his creditors appoint him a time and come over, and 
 he, meanwhile, authorizes another to treat with 
 them, but will not be seen himself, unless it was 
 on a Sunday, lest they should snap him with a writ. 
 So his deputed friend treats with them about their 
 concern with Mr. Badman, first telling them of the 
 great care that Mr. Badman took to satisfy them 
 and all men for whatsoever he oived, as far as in 
 
 Wise. I will tell you; it was this, he had an art 
 to break, and get hatfuls of money by breaking. 
 
 „ „ , , . Atten. But what do you mean by 
 
 Mr.Baclinnnliacl . . Q - r ■. 
 
 an art to break, Mr. Badman s breaking ? You speak 
 
 n!oney t0 that mystically, do you not ? 
 wa y- Wise. No, no, I speak plainly. Or, if 
 
 you will have it in plainer language, it is this;— 
 when Mr. Badman had swaggered and whored away 
 most of his wife’s portion, he began to feel that lie 
 could not much longer stand upon his legs in this 
 course of life and beep up his trade and repute— 
 such as he had—in the world, but by the new 
 TT . . engine of breaking. Wherefore upon 
 
 IIow he managed ° ° 1 . . 
 
 things in order a time he gives a great and sudden 
 
 to ins breaking. gev eral men’s debts, to the 
 
 value of about four or five thousand pounds, driv¬ 
 
 ing at the same time a very great trade, by selling 
 many things for less than they cost him, to get 
 him custom, therewith to blind his creditors’ eyes. 
 Plis creditors therefore seeing that he had a great 
 employ, and dreaming that it must needs at length 
 turn to a very good account to them, trusted him 
 freely without mistrust, and so did others too, to 
 the value of what was mentioned before. Well, 
 when Mr. Badman had well feathered his nest with 
 other men’s goods and money, after a little time 
 he breaks. And by and by it was 
 He breaks. no j stJ( j a p r0 ad that Mr. Badman had 
 
 shut up shop, was gone, and could trade no longer. 
 Now r by that time his breaking was come to his 
 creditors’ ears, he had by craft and knavery made 
 
 him lay, and how little he thought a while since to 
 be in this low condition. He pleaded also the 
 greatness of his charge, the greatness of taxes, 
 the badness of the times, and the great losses that 
 he had by many of his customers ; some of which 
 died in his debt, others were run away, and for 
 many that were alive he never expected a farthing 
 from them. Yet nevertheless he would show him¬ 
 self an honest man, and would pay as far as he 
 was able; and if they were willing to come to 
 terms, he would make a composition with them, 
 for he was not able to pay them all. what Mr Bad . 
 
 The creditors asked what he would man propounds 
 
 to bis creditors. 
 
 give? It was replied, Half-a-crow T n 
 in the pound. At this they began to huff, and he to 
 renew his complaint and entreaty, but the creditors 
 would not hear, and so for that time their meeting 
 without success broke up. But after his creditors 
 were in cool blood, and admitting of second 
 thoughts, and fearing lest delays should make 
 them lose all, they admit of a second debate, come 
 together again, and, by many words and great ado, 
 they obtained five shillings in the pound. So the 
 money was produced, releases and They at last 
 discharges drawn, signed, and sealed, fridnmn nd g;h*!s 
 books crossed, and all things con- breaking, 
 firmed; and then Mr. Badman can put his head 
 out a doors again, and be a better man than when 
 he shut up shop, by several thousands of pounds . 1 
 
 1 Fraudulent bankruptcy is a sore and prevailing evil. It 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 629 
 
 Atten. And did he do thus indeed ? 
 
 Wise. Yes, once and again. I think he brake 
 twice or thrice. 
 
 Atten. And did he do it before he had need to 
 do it ? 
 
 "W ISE. Need ! What do you mean by need ? 
 There i 3 no need at any time for a man to play the 
 knave. lie did it of a wicked mind, to defraud 
 and beguile his creditors. He had wherewithal of 
 There is no plea ^ a ^ ier » an d also by his wife, to have 
 honesty dls " ^ vec ^ u P on > with lawful labour, like an 
 honest man. He had also, when he 
 made this wicked break, though he had been a 
 profuse and prodigal spender, to have paid his 
 creditors their own to a farthing. But had he 
 done so, he had not done like himself, like Mr. 
 Badman; had he, I say, dealt like an honest man, 
 he had then gone out of Mr. Badman’s road. He 
 did it therefore of a dishonest mind, and to a wicked 
 end; to wit, that he might have wherewithal, how¬ 
 soever unlawfully gotten, to follow his cups and 
 queans , * 1 and to live in the full swing of his lusts, 
 even as he did before. 
 
 Atten. Why this was a mere cheat. 
 
 Wise. It was a cheat indeed. This way of 
 breaking, it is nothing else but a more neat way 
 of thieving, of picking of pockets, of breaking open 
 of shops, and of taking from men what one has 
 nothing to do with. But though it seem easy, it 
 is hard to learn; no man that has conscience to 
 God or man, can ever be his crafts-master in this 
 hellish art. 
 
 Atten. 0 ! Sir ! What a wicked man was this ! 
 
 Wise. A wicked man indeed. By this art he 
 could tell how to make men send their goods to his 
 shop, and then be glad to take a penny for that 
 which he had promised, before it came thither, 
 to give them a groat: I say, he could make them 
 glad to take a crown for a pound’s worth, and a 
 thousand for that for which he had promised before 
 to give them four thousand pounds. 
 
 Atten. This argueth that Mr. Badman had but 
 little conscience. 
 
 Wise. This argued that Mr. Badman had no 
 conscience at all; for conscience, the least spark 
 ot a good conscience, cannot endure this. 
 
 Atten. Before we go any further in Mr. Bad¬ 
 man’s matters, let me desire you, if you please, to 
 give me an answer to these two questions. 1 . What 
 do you find in the Word of God against such a prac¬ 
 tice as this of Mr. Badman’s is ? 2 . What would 
 
 you have a man do that is in his creditor’s debt, 
 and can neither pay him what he owes him, nor 
 go on in a trade any longer ? 
 
 is thieving under the protection of the law. How many live 
 in state, until their creditors get a few shillings in the pound, 
 and the bankrupt gets the curse of God upon his soul 1 —(Ed.) 
 
 1 Quean, a slut, a strumpet; see Imperial Did, —(Ed.) 
 
 Wise. I will answer you as well as I can. And 
 first, to the first of your questions; an a „ swer t0 
 to wit, What I find in the Word of two questions. 
 God against such a practice as this of Mr. Bad¬ 
 man’s is. 
 
 The Word of God doth forbid this wickedness ; 
 and to make it the more odious in our Thc firsi . 9 _ 
 eyes, it joins it with theft and robbery. tion answered. 
 ‘Thou shalt not,’says God, ‘defraud thy neighbour, 
 neither rob him.’ Le. xix. 13. Thou shalt not defraud, 
 that is, deceive or beguile. Now thus to break, is 
 to defraud, deceive and beguile; which is, as } r ou see, 
 forbidden by the God of heaven: ‘ Thou shalt not 
 defraud thy neighbour, neither rob him.’ It is a 
 kind of theft and robbery, thus to defraud, and be¬ 
 guile. It is a vilely robbing of his shop, and picking 
 of his pocket ; a thing odious to reason and con¬ 
 science, and contrary to the law of nature. It is a 
 designed piece of wickedness, and therefore a double 
 sin. A man cannot do this great wickedness on a 
 sudden, and through a violent assault Theheinousnesa 
 of Satan. He that will commit this sin, of thls sm * 
 must have time to deliberate, that by invention he 
 may make it formidable, and that with lies and high 
 dissimulations. He that commits this wickedness, 
 must first hatch it upon his bed, beat his head about 
 it, and lay his plot strong. So that to the completing 
 of such a wickedness, there must be adjoined many 
 sins, and they too must go hand in hand until it 
 be completed. But what saith the scripture ? ‘ Let 
 no Than go beyond and defraud his brother in any 
 matter: because that the Lord is the avenger of 
 all such.’ l Thes. iv. e. But this kind of breaking is 
 a going beyond my brother; this is a compassing of 
 
 him about, that I may catch him in 
 
 , -i T • i . , , Fair warning, 
 
 my net; and as 1 said, an art to rob 
 
 my brother, and to pick his pocket, and that with 
 his consent. Which doth not therefore mitigate, 
 but so much the more greaten, and make odious 
 the offence. Bor men that are thus wilily abused, 
 cannot help themselves; they are taken in a deceit¬ 
 ful net. But God will here concern himself, he 
 will be the avenger, he will be the avenger of all 
 such either here, or in another world. 
 
 And this, the apostle testifies again, where he 
 saith, ‘ But he that doeth wrong, shall receive for 
 the wrong which ho hath done; and there is no re¬ 
 spect of persons.’ Col. iii. 25. That is, there is no 
 man, be he what he will, ii 
 guilty of this sin, of going 
 beguiling of, and doing wrong to his brother, but 
 God will call him to an account for it, and will pay 
 him with vengeance for it too; for ‘ there is no re¬ 
 spect of persons.’ 
 
 I might add, that this sin of wronging, of going 
 beyond, and defrauding of my neighbour, it is like 
 that first prank that the devil played with our first 
 parents, as the altar that Uriah built for Ahaz, 
 
 he will be 
 
 t. Fair warning. 
 
 , of 
 
630 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 was taken from the fashion of that that stood at 
 Damascus, to he the very pattern of it. The ser¬ 
 pent beguiled me, says Eve; Mr. Badman beguiles 
 his creditors. The serpent beguiled Eve with lying 
 lie that design- promises of train; and so did Mr. Bad- 
 SS.taSuS man beguile his creditors. The ser- 
 the devil. pent said one thing and meant another, 
 when he beguiled Eve; and so did Mr. Badman 
 when he beguiled his creditors. 
 
 That man therefore that doth thus deceive and 
 beguile his neighbour, imitateth the devil; he tak- 
 eth his examples from him, and not from God, the 
 Word, or good men; and this did Mr. Badman. 
 
 And now to your second question; to wit, what 
 The second I would have a man do that is in his 
 
 question. creditor’s debt, and that can neither 
 pay him, nor go on in a trade any longer ? 
 
 Answ. First of all. If this be his case, and he 
 
 knows it, let him not run one penny further in his 
 
 creditors’ debt, for that cannot be done with good 
 
 conscience. He that knows he cannot pay, and 
 
 yet will run into debt; does knowingly wrong and 
 
 defraud his neighbour, and falls under that sentence 
 
 of the Word of God, ‘ The wicked borroweth, and 
 
 TT , payetli not again.’ rs. xxxvii. 21. Yea, 
 
 How those that * J ° 
 
 are bankrupts worse, he borrows, though at the very 
 
 with their coii- same time he knows that he cannot 
 sciences. pay a <vain. lie doth also craftily take 
 
 away what is his neighbour’s. That is therefore 
 the "first thing that I would propound to such; let 
 him not run anv farther into his creditors’ debt. 
 
 Secondly, After this, let him consider, how, and 
 by what means he was brought into 
 such a condition that he could not pay 
 his just debts. To wit, whether it was by his own 
 remissness in his calling, by living too high in diet 
 or apparel, by lending too lavishingly that which 
 was none of his own, to his loss; or whether by the 
 immediate hand and judgment of God. 
 
 If by searching he finds that this is come upon 
 him through remissness in his calling, extravagan¬ 
 cies in his family, or the like; let him labour for a 
 sense of his sin and wickedness, for he has sinned 
 against the Lord. First, in his being slothful in 
 business, and in not providing, to wit, of his own, 
 by the sweat of his brow, or other honest ways, 
 for those of his own house. Ro. xii. 11. 1 Ti. v. 8. And, 
 secondly, in being lavishing in diet and apparel in 
 the family, or in lending to others that which was 
 none of his own. This cannot be done with good 
 conscience. It is both against reason and nature, 
 and therefore must be a sin against God. I say 
 therefore, if thus this debtor hath done, if ever he 
 would live quietly in conscience, and comfortably 
 in his condition for the future, let him humble him¬ 
 self before God, and repent of this his wickedness 
 For ‘ he that is slothful in his work, is brother to 
 him that is a great waster.’ Pr. xviii. 9. To be sloth 
 
 Good advice. 
 
 "ul and a waster too, is to be as it were a double 
 sinner. 
 
 But again, as this man should inquire into these 
 things, so he should also into this, How came I 
 into this way of dealing in which I have now mis¬ 
 carried? Is it a way that my parents brought me 
 up in, put me apprentice to, or that by providence 
 I was first thrust into? Or is it a way into which 
 I have twisted myself, as not being contented with 
 my first lot, that by God and my parents I was 
 cast into? This ought duly to be con- Good counsel 
 sidered, and if upon search a man shall again- 
 find that he is out of the place and calling into 
 which he was put by his parents, or the providence 
 of God, and has miscarried in a new way, that 
 through pride and dislike of his first state he has 
 chose rather to embrace ; his miscarriage is his sin, 
 the fruit of his pride, and a token of the judgment 
 of God upon him for his leaving of his first state. 
 And for this he ought, as for tho former, to be 
 humble and penitent before the Lord, 
 
 But if by search, he finds that his poverty came 
 by none of tliese; if by honest search, Il0wt0fllldtlla , 
 
 lie finds it so, and can say with good thydecaycame 
 . T , , , r i by the jutlg- 
 
 conscience, I went not out or my place m J cnt 0 f God, 
 and state in which God by his provi- £arm-e. y miS * 
 dence had put me; but have abode 
 with God in the calling wherein I was called, and 
 have wrought hard, and fared meanly, been civilly 
 apparelled, and have not directly nor indirectly 
 made away with my creditors’ goods ; then has his 
 fall come upon him by the immediate hand of God, 
 whether by visible or invisible ways. For some¬ 
 times it comes by visible ways, to wit, by fire, by 
 thieves, by loss of cattle, or the wickedness of sin¬ 
 ful dealers, <fce. And sometimes by means in¬ 
 visible, and then no man knows how; we only see 
 things are going, but cannot see by what way they 
 go. Well, now suppose that a man, by an im¬ 
 mediate hand of God, is brought to a morsel of 
 bread, what must he do now ? 
 
 I answer: His surest way is still to think, that 
 this is the fruit of some sin, though Another ques- 
 possibly not sin in the management of tlon * 
 his calling, yet of some other sin. ‘God casteth 
 away the substance of the wicked.’ rr. x. 3. There¬ 
 fore let him still humble himself before his God, 
 because his hand is upon him, and say, What sin 
 is this, for which this hand of God is upon me ? 
 1 re. v. 0. And let him be diligent to find it out, for 
 some sin is the cause of this judgment; for God 
 ‘ doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children 
 of men.’ La. m. 33. Either the heart is too much 
 set upon the world, or religion is too much neglected 
 in thy family, or something. There is a snake in 
 the grass, a worm in the gourd ; some sin in thy 
 bosom, for the sake of which God doth thus deal 
 with thee. 
 
G31 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 Thirdly, This thus done, let that man again 
 
 Good advice consider thus 'with himself: perhaps 
 asauu _ God is now changing of my condition 
 and state in the world ; he has let me live in fashion, 
 in fulness, and abundance of worldly glory; and I 
 did not to his glory improve, as I should, that his 
 good dispensation to me. But when I lived in full 
 and fat pasture, I did there lift up the heel. Do. 
 xxxu. is. Therefore he will now turn me into hard 
 commons, that with leanness, and hunger, and 
 meanness, and want, I may spend the rest of my 
 days. But let him do this without murmuring 
 and repining; let him do it in a godly manner^ 
 submitting himself to the judgment of God. ‘ Let 
 the rich rejoice in that he is made low.’ j a . i. a, 10. 
 
 This is duty, and it may be privilege to those 
 that are under this hand of God. And for thy 
 encouragement to this hard work, for this is a hard 
 work, consider of these four things. 1. This is 
 
 Consider four right lying down under God’s hand, 
 things. ^ aud the way t0 be exa } ted ia God > g 
 
 time. Y\ hen God would have Job embrace the 
 dunghill,he embraces it,and says, ‘The Lord gave, 
 and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the 
 name of the Lord.’ Job i. 21 . 2. Consider, that there 
 
 are blessings also that attend a low condition, more 
 than all the world are aware of.^ A poor condi¬ 
 tion has preventing mercy attending of it. The 
 poor, because they are poor, are not capable of 
 sinning against God as the rich man does. Ps. xiix. c. 
 3 . I he poor can more clearly see himself preserved 
 by the providence of God than the rich, for he 
 trusteth in the abundance of his riches. 4 . It may 
 be God has made thee poor, because he would make 
 thee rich. ‘ Hearken, my beloved brethren, hath 
 not God chosen the poor of this world, rich in faith, 
 and heirs of the kingdom which God hath pro¬ 
 mised to them that love him?’ Ja. ii. 5 . 
 
 I am persuaded if men upon whom this hand of 
 God is, v,ould thus quietly lie down and humble 
 themselves under it, they would find more peace, 
 yea more blessing of God attending them in it, 
 than the most of men are aware of. But this is a 
 hard chapter, and therefore I do not expect that 
 many should either read it with pleasure, or desire 
 to take my counsel. 
 
 Having thus spoken to the broken man, with 
 reference to his own self, I will now speak to him 
 Honest dealing as he stands related to his creditors, 
 with ciediaua. j n the next place therefore, let him 
 
 1 Witness the shepherd boy’s song in the Pilgrim, p.20G:— 
 
 lie that is down need fear no fall, 
 
 He that is low, no pride; 
 
 He that is humble ever shall 
 Have God to be his guide. 
 
 This poor boy, in his very mean clothes, carried more heart's 
 
 ease in his bosom, than he that wa3 clad in silk and velvet_ 
 
 (Ed.) 
 
 fall upon the most honest way of dealing witli his 
 creditors, and that I think must he this:° 
 
 First, Let him timely make them acquainted 
 with his condition, and also do to them these three 
 things. 1 . Let him heartily and unfeignedly ask 
 them foigiveness for the wrong that he has done 
 them. 2 . Let him proffer them all, and the whole 
 all that ever he has in the world; let him hide 
 nothing, let him strip himself to his raiment for 
 them; let him not keep a ring, a spoon, or any¬ 
 thing from them. 3 . If none of these two will 
 satisfy them, let him proffer them his body, to be 
 at their dispose, to wit, either to abide imprison¬ 
 ment at their pleasure, or to be at their service, 
 till by labour and travel lie hath made them such 
 amends as they in reason think fit, only reserving 
 something for the succour of his poor and distressed 
 family out of his labour, which in reason, and con¬ 
 science, and nature, he is hound also to take care 
 of. Thus shall he make them what amends he is 
 able, for the wrong that he hath done them in 
 wasting and spending of their estates. 
 
 By thus doing, lie submits himself to God’s rod, 
 commits himself to the dispose of liis providence; 
 yea, by thus doing, lie castetli the lot of liis pre¬ 
 sent and future condition into the lap“ of his credi¬ 
 tors, aud leaves the whole dispose thereof to the 
 Lord, even as he shall order and incline their 
 hearts to do with him. Pr. xvi. 33. And let that be 
 either to forgive him, or to take that which he 
 hath foi satisfaction, or to lay liis body under 
 affliction, this way or that, according to law; can 
 lie, I say, thus leave the whole dispose to God, let 
 the issue be what it will, that man shall have 
 peace in his mind afterward. And the comforts 
 of that state, which will be comforts that attend 
 equity, justice, and duty, will be more unto him, 
 because more according to godliness, than can be 
 the comforts that are the fruits of injustice, fraud- 
 ulency, and deceit. Besides, this is the way to 
 engage God to favour him by the sentence of his 
 creditors; for he can entreat them to use him 
 kindly, and he will do it when his ways are pleasing 
 in liis sight. j e . xv. 10,11. When a man’s ways 
 please the Lord, he maketh even his enemies to be 
 at peace with him. Pr. xvi. 7. And surely, for a man 
 to seek to make restitution for wrongs done to the 
 utmost of his power, by what lie is, lias, and enjoys 
 in this world, is the best way, in that capacity, and 
 with reference to that tiling, that a man can at 
 this time be found active in. 
 
 But he that doth otherwise, abides in his sin, 
 refuses to be disposed of by the providence of God, 
 chooseth an high estate, though not attained in 
 God’s way; when God’s will is that lie should 
 descend into a low one. Yea, he desperately saitli 
 
 2 Tor this use of the word lap, see Pr. xvi. 33 .—(Ed.) 
 
632 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 
 
 in his heart and actions, I will be mine own chooser, 
 and that in mine own way, whatever happens or 
 follows thereupon. 
 
 Atten. You have said well, in my mind. But 
 suppose now that Mr. Badinan was here, could he 
 not object as to what you have said, saying, Go 
 and teach your brethren, that are professors, this 
 lesson, for they as I am are guilty of breaking*; 
 
 A heavy blot upon jea, I am apt to think, of that which 
 
 religion. y 0ll ca H m y knavish way of breaking, 
 
 to wit, of breaking before they have need to break. 
 But if not so, yet they are guilty of neglect in 
 their calling, of living higher, both in tare and 
 apparel, than their trade or income will maintain. 
 Besides that they do break all the world very well 
 knows, and that they have the art to plead for a 
 composition, is very well known to men ; and that 
 is usual with them to hide their linen, their plate, 
 their jewels, and it is to be thought, sometimes 
 money and goods besides, is as common as four 
 eggs a penny. 1 And thus they beguile men, de¬ 
 bauch their consciences, sin against their profession, 
 and make, it is to be feared, their lusts in all this, 
 and the fulfilling of them their end. I say, if Mr. 
 Badman was here to object thus unto you, what 
 would be your reply? 
 
 Wise. What ? Why I would say, I hope no 
 good man, no man of good conscience, no man that 
 either feareth God, regardeth the credit of religion, 
 the peace of God’s people, or the salvation of his 
 own soul, will do thus. Professors such, perhaps, 
 there may be, and who upon earth can help it? 
 Jades there be of all colours. If men will profess, 
 and make their profession a stalking-horse to be¬ 
 guile their neighbours of their estates, as Mr. Bad- 
 T . , ... man himself did, when he beguiled 
 
 makeprofessiou her that now is with sorrow his wire, 
 beviie^vho can who can help it ? The churches of old 
 kelp it? were pestered with such, and therefore 
 no marvel if these perilous difficult times be so. 
 But mark how the apostle words it: ‘ Nay, ye do 
 wrong, and defraud, and that your brethren. Know 
 ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the 
 kingdom of God? Be not deceived, neither forni¬ 
 cators, nor idolators, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, 
 nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor 
 thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, 
 nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.’ 
 1 Co. vi. 8 — 10 . 2 Ti. iii. 1 — 5 . 
 
 None of these shall be saved in this state, nor 
 shall profession deliver them from the censure of 
 the godly, when they shall be manifest such to be. 
 
 1 In the reign of Edward II. the price of provisions was re¬ 
 gulated by Act of Parliament. Twenty-four eggs were ordered 
 to be sold for one penny, but the penny of that period contained 
 as much silver as the threepenny piece of Bunyan’s, and of our 
 time. 1 have bought, within the last forty years, the finest eggs 
 at four a penny in Normandy.— (Ed.) 
 
 But their profession we cannot help. How can we 
 ielp it, if men should ascribe to themselves the 
 itle of holy ones, godly ones, zealous ones, self- 
 denying ones, or any other such glorious title? and 
 while they thus call themselves, they should be the 
 veriest rogues for all evil, sin, and villainy imagin¬ 
 able, who could help it? True, they are a scandal to 
 religion, a grief to the honest-hearted, an offence to 
 ;he world, and a stumbling-stone to the weak, and 
 diese offences have come, do come, and will come, 
 do what all the world can ; but woe be to them 
 through whom they come. Mat. xviii. 6— s. Let such 
 professors therefore be disowned by Let be di*- 
 
 all true Christians, and let them be owned of ail 
 
 r , good men. 
 
 reckoned among those base men of the 
 world, which, by such actions, they most resemble. 
 They are Mr. Badman’s kindred. For they are a 
 shame to religion, I say, these slithy, 2 rob-shop, 
 pick-pocket men, they are a shame to religion, and 
 religious men should be ashamed of them. God 
 puts such an one among the fools of the world, 
 therefore let not Christians put them among thoso 
 that are wise for heaven. ‘ As the partridge sit- 
 teth on eggs, and hatcheth them not, so he that 
 getteth riches, and not by right, shall leave them 
 in the midst of his days, and at his end shall be a 
 fool.’ Jer. xvii. ii. And the man under consideration 
 is one of these, and therefore must look to fall by 
 this judgment. 
 
 A professor! and practice such villainies as 
 these! such a one is not worthy to bear that name 
 any longer. We may say to such as the prophet 
 spake to their like, to wit, to the rebellious that 
 were in the house of Israel: ‘ Go ye, serve ye every 
 one his idols.’ Eze. xx. 39 . If ye will not hearken to 
 the law and testament of God, to lead your lives 
 hereafter: * but pollute God’s holy name no more 
 with your gifts, and with your idols.’ 
 
 Go, professors, go; leave off profession, unless 
 you will lead your lives according to your pro¬ 
 fession. Better never profess, than to make pro¬ 
 fession a stalking-horse to sin, deceit, to the devil, 
 and hell. The ground and rules of religion allow 
 not any such thing: ‘receiveus,’ says the apostle, 
 ‘ we have wronged no man, we have corrupted no 
 man, we have defrauded no man.’ 2 Co. vii. 2. In¬ 
 timating that those that are guilty of wronging, 
 corrupting, or defrauding of any, should not be ad¬ 
 mitted to the fellowship of saints, no, nor into the 
 common catalogue of brethren with them. Nor 
 can men with all their rhetoric, and eloquent speak¬ 
 ing, prove themselves fit for the kingdom of heaven, 
 or men of good conscience on earth. 0 that godly 
 plea of Samuel: ‘Behold here I am,’ says he, 
 ‘ witness against me, before the Lord, and before 
 
 2 * Slither,’ slippery, deceitful; obsolete, except in Lincoln¬ 
 shire.—(E d.) 
 
 \ 
 
G33 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 his anointed, whose ox have I taker.? or whose ass 
 have I taken? or whom have I defrauded? whom 
 have I oppressed?’ &c. 1 Sa. xii. s. This was to do 
 like a man of good conscience indeed. Mat. x. io. 
 And in this his appeal, he was so justified in the con¬ 
 sciences of the whole congregation, that they could 
 not but with one voice, as with one mouth, break 
 out jointly, and say, ‘ Thou hast not defrauded us, 
 nor oppressed us.’ Mat. x. 4. 
 
 A professor, and defraud, away with him ! A 
 p: ofessor should not owe any man anything but 
 h'\e. A professor should provide things, not of 
 other men s but of his own, of his own honest get¬ 
 ting, and that not only in the sight of God, but of 
 all men; that he may adorn the doctrine of God 
 our Saviour in all things. 
 
 Atten. But suppose God should blow upon a 
 
 a question. P r °f essor in his estate and calling, and 
 he should be run out before he is aware, 
 must he be accounted to be like Mr. Badman, and 
 lie under the same reproach as he? 
 
 Wise. No: if he hath dutifully done what he could 
 
 An answer. t0 aV ° id lt It * S P ossibIe f or a ship to 
 sink at sea, notwithstanding the most 
 faithful endeavour of the most skilful pilot under 
 heaven. And thus, as I suppose, it was with the 
 piophet, that left his wife in debt, to the hazarding 
 the slavery of her children by the creditors. 2Ki.iv.i,2. 
 lie was no profuse man, nor one that was given to 
 defraud, for the text says he feared God; yet, as 
 1 said, he was run out more than she could pay. 
 
 If God would blow upon a man, who can help 
 it ? Hag. i. 9. And he will do so sometimes, because 
 he will change dispensations with men, and because 
 he will try their graces. Yea, also, 
 
 God does some- - -? -> 
 
 times blow because he will overthrow the wicked 
 
 people. How "itn Ins judgments ; and all these 
 
 attlut thne. d0 thin S s are seen in Job. But then the 
 consideration of this should bid men 
 have a care that they be honest, lest this comes 
 upon them for their sin. It should also bid them 
 beware of launching further into the world, than in 
 an honest way, by ordinary means, they can god- 
 lily make their retreat; for the further in the greater 
 fall. It should also teach them to beg of God his 
 blessing upon their endeavours, their honest and 
 lawful endeavours. And it should put them upon 
 a diligent looking to their steps, that if in their 
 going they should hear the ice crack, they may 
 timely go back again. These things considered, 
 and duly put in practice, if God will blow upon a 
 man, then let him be content, and with Job embrace 
 the dunghill. Let him give unto all their dues, 
 and not fight against the providence of God, but 
 humble himself rather under his mighty hand, 
 which comes to strip him naked and bare : for he 
 that doth otherwise fights against God ; and de¬ 
 clares that he is a stranger to that of Paul; ‘ I 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 know both how to be abased, and I know how to 
 abound; everywhere and in all things lam in¬ 
 structed both to be full and to be hungry, both to 
 abound and to suffer need.’ Phi. iv. 12. 
 
 Atten. But Mr. Badman would not, I believe, 
 have put this difference betwixt things feigned and 
 those that fall of necessity. 
 
 Wise. If he will not, God will, conscience will; 
 and that not thine own only, but the consciences 
 of all those that have seen the way, and that have 
 known the truth of the condition of such a one. 
 
 Atten. Well: let us at this time leave this mat¬ 
 ter, and return again to Mr. Badman. 
 
 Wise. With all my heart will I proceed to give 
 you a relation of what is yet behind of his lifet in 
 order to our discourse of his death. 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 [badman s fraudulent dealings to get money.] 
 
 Atten. But pray, do it with as much brevity as 
 you can. 
 
 Wise. Why, are you weary of my relating of 
 things ? 
 
 Atten. No : but it pleases me to hear a great 
 deal in few words. 
 
 Wise. I profess myself not an artist that way, 
 but yet, as briefly as I can, I will pass through 
 what of his life is behind; and again I shall begin 
 with his fraudulent dealing, as before I have 
 showed with his creditors, so now with his cus¬ 
 tomers, and those that he had otherwise to deal 
 withal. 
 
 He dealt by deceitful weights and measures. 
 He kept weights to buy by, and 
 
 weights to sell by; measures to buy b adman’"sfraul 
 by, and measures to sell by: those he duient dealing. 
 
 ... y He used de- 
 
 Dougnt by were too big, those he sold ceitfulweights 
 by were too little. and scde3 ‘ 
 
 Besides, he could use a thing called slight of 
 hand, if he had to do with other men’s weights and 
 measures, and by that means make them whether 
 he did buy or sell, yea though his customer or 
 chapman looked on, turn to his own advantage. 
 
 Moreover, he had the art to misreckon men in 
 their accounts, whether by weight, or measure, or 
 money, and would often do it to his worldly advau- 
 tage, and their loss. What say you to Mr. Bad¬ 
 man now ? And if a question was made of his 
 faithful dealing, lie had his servants ready, that to 
 his purpose he had brought up, that would avouch 
 and swear to his book or word. This was Mr. 
 Badman’s practice. What think you of Mr. Bad¬ 
 man now ? 
 
 Atten. Think ! Why I can think no other but 
 that he was a man left to himself, a naughty man; 
 for these, as his other, were naughty things'; if 
 the tree, as indeed it may, ought to be judged, 
 
 bO 
 
634 
 
 tiie life and death of mr. badman. 
 
 wliat it is, by its fruits, then Mr. Badman must 
 needs be a bad tree. But pray, for my further 
 satisfaction, show me now, by the Word of God, 
 the evil of this his practice; and first of his using 
 
 false weights and measures. 
 
 Wise. The evil of that! Why the evil of that 
 appears to every eye. The heathens, that live like 
 beasts and brutes in many things, do abominate 
 and abhor such wickedness as this. Let a man 
 but look upon these things as he goes by, and he 
 shall see enough in them from the light of natui e 
 to make him loathe so base a practice, although 
 Mr. Badman loved it. 
 
 Atten. But show me something out of the Word 
 against it, will you ? 
 
 Wise. I will willingly do it. And first, look 
 
 fustweiiits into the Old Testament: ‘Ye shall,’ 
 °and SreJ sa ith God there, ‘ do no unrighteous¬ 
 ness in judgment, in mete-yard, in weight, or in 
 measure; just balances, just weights, a just ephah 
 and a just hin shall you have.’ Le. xix. 35, 36 . This 
 is the law of God, and that which all men, accord¬ 
 ing to the law of the land, ought to obey. . So 
 ao-ain: ‘Ye shall have just balances, and a just 
 
 ephah,’ &c. Eze. xiv. 10. 
 
 Now having showed you the law, I will also show 
 you how God takes swerving therefrom. * A false 
 balance is not good.’ Pr. xx. 23 . ‘A false balance 
 is abomination to the Lord.’ Pr. xi. l. Some have 
 The evil of de- just weights, but false balances; and 
 weights, alan an(i hy virtue of these false balances, by 
 
 measures. 
 
 tlieir just weights, they deceive the 
 country. Wherefore God first of all commands 
 that the balance be made just. A just balance 
 shalt thou have; else they may be, yea are, de¬ 
 ceivers, notwithstanding their just weights. 
 
 Now, having commanded that men have a just 
 balance, and testifying that a false one is an abomi¬ 
 nation to the Lord, he proceedeth also unto weight 
 and measure. Thou shalt not have in thy bag 
 divers weights, a great and a small; that is, one 
 to buy by, and another to sell by, as Mr. Badman 
 had. ‘ Thou shalt not have in thine house divers 
 measures, a great and a small. (And these had 
 Mr. Badman also.) But thou shalt have a perfect 
 and just weight; a perfect and just measure shalt 
 thou have, that thy days may be lengthened in the 
 land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. For all 
 that do such things (that is, that use false weights 
 and m-easures), and all that do unrighteously, are 
 an abomination unto the Lord. ’ De. xxv. 13 - 16 . See 
 now both how plentiful, and how punctual the 
 Scripture is in this matter. But perhaps it may 
 be objected, that all this is old law, and therefore 
 hath nothing to do with us under the New Testa- 
 ment. Not that I think you, neighbour, will ob¬ 
 ject thus. Well, to this foolish objection, let us 
 make an answer. First, he that makes this objec¬ 
 
 tion, if he doth it to overthrow the authority of 
 hose texts, discovereth that himself is The old and new 
 first cousin to Mr. Badman. For a just t 
 
 man is willing to speak reverently of honestandlug 
 those commands. That man therefore weights and 
 hath, I doubt, but little conscience, if 
 any at all that is good, that thus objecteth against 
 the text. But let us look into the New Testament, 
 and there we shall see how Christ confirmeth the 
 same ; where he commandeth that men make 
 to others good measure, including also that they 
 make good weight; telling such that do thus, oi 
 those that do it not, that they may be encouraged 
 to do it: ‘ Good measure, pressed down, and shaken 
 together, and running over, shall men give into 
 your bosom. For with the same measuie that ^e 
 mete withal, it shall be measured to you again. 
 
 La. vi. 38. To wit, both from God and man. For as 
 God will show his indignation against the false 
 man, by taking away even that he hath, so he will 
 deliver up the false man to the oppressor, and the 
 extortioner shall catch from him, as well as he 
 hath catched from his neighbour; therefore, an¬ 
 other scripture saith, ‘ When thou shalt make an 
 end to deal treacherously, they shall deal treacher¬ 
 ously with thee.’ is. xxxiii. l. That the New Testa¬ 
 ment also hath an inspection into men s trading, 
 yea, even with their weights and measures, is evi¬ 
 dent from these general exhortations, ‘Defraud 
 not;’ ‘lie not one to another. ‘Let pat g cl .jp toC3 
 no man go beyond his brother in any for our i ,ur * 
 matter, for the Lord is the avenger of p ° be 
 all such.’ ‘ Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as 
 to the Lord,’ ‘doing all in his name,’ ‘to his glory ;’ 
 and the like. All these injunctions and command¬ 
 ments do respect our life and conversation among 
 men, with reference to our dealing, trading, and 
 so, consequently, they forbid false, deceitful, yea, 
 all doings that are corrupt. 
 
 Having thus in a word or two showed you that 
 these things are bad, I will next, for Where false 
 the conviction of those that use them, measures are 
 show you where God saith they are to t0 belound * 
 be found. 
 
 1 . They are not to be found in the house of the 
 good and godly man, for he, as his God, abhors 
 
 them; but they are to be found in the WMj e<u doe ,. 3 
 
 house of evil doers, such as Mr. Lad- 
 man’s is. ‘Are there,’ saith the prophet, ‘yet the 
 treasures of wickedness in the house ot the wicked, 
 and the scant measure that is abominable! ’ Mi. vi. 10. 
 Are they there yet, notwithstanding God’s forbid¬ 
 ding, notwithstanding God’s tokens of anger against 
 
 those that do such things! 0 how loth is a wicked 
 man to let go a sweet, a gainful sin, when he hath 
 hold of it! They hold fast deceit, they refuse to 
 let it go. 
 
 2 . These deceitful weights and measures are not 
 
635 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 
 
 to be found in the house of the merciful, but in the 
 house ol the cruel; in the house of them that love 
 With the merci- to °PP ress * ‘The balances of deceit 
 pressor'^ ° P ' are in his hand ; he loveth to oppress.’ 
 
 iio. xii. 7. lie is given to oppression 
 and cruelty, therefore he usetli such wicked things 
 in his calling. 1 ea, he is a very cheat, and, as 
 was hinted before concerning Mr. Badman’s break¬ 
 ing, so I say now, concerning his using these de¬ 
 ceitful weights and measures, it is as bad, as base, 
 as to take a purse, 1 or pick a pocket; for it is a 
 plain robbery; it takes away from a man that which 
 is his own, even the price of his money. 
 
 3. The deceitful weights and measures are not 
 With such as to h e found in the house of such as re- 
 up thepouli° W * leve ^ le holly, and that cover the loins 
 
 of the poor, but of such as indeed would 
 swallow them up. ‘ Hear this, 0 ye that swallow 
 up the needy, even to make the poor of the land to 
 fail, saying, When will the new moon be gone, 
 that we may sell corn? and the Sabbath, that we 
 may set forth wheat, making the ephah small, and 
 the shekel great (making the measure small, and 
 the price great), and falsifying the balances by de¬ 
 ceit? That ye may buy the poor for silver, and 
 the needy for a pair of shoes, and sell the refuse 
 of the wheat. The Lord hath sworn by the ex¬ 
 cellency of Jacob, Surely I will never forget any 
 of their works.’ Am. viii. 4 - 8 . So detestable and vile 
 a thing is this in the sight of God. 
 
 4. God abominates the thoughts of calling of 
 With impure those that use false weights and mea- 
 
 ones - sures, by any other term than that 
 they be impure ones, or the like: ‘Shall I count 
 them pure,’ saitli he, ‘with the bag of deceitful 
 weights?’ Mi. vi. n. No, by no means, they are im¬ 
 pure ones; their hands are defiled, deceitful gain 
 is in their houses, they have gotten what they 
 have by coveting an evil covetousness, and there¬ 
 fore must and shall be counted among the impure, 
 among the wicked of the world. 
 
 Thus you see how full and plain the Word of 
 God is against this sin, and them that use it. And 
 therefore Mr. Badman, for that he used by these 
 things thus to rook and cheat his neighbours, is 
 rightly rejected from having his name in and among 
 the catalogue of the godly. 
 
 Atten. But I am persuaded that the using of 
 these things, and the doing by them thus deceit¬ 
 fully, is not counted so great an evil by some. 
 
 Wise. Whether it be counted an evil or a virtue 
 by men, it mattereth not; you see by the Scrip¬ 
 tures the judgment of God upon it. It was not 
 counted an evil by Mr. Badman, nor is it by any 
 that still are treading in his steps. But, I say, it 
 
 is no matter how men esteem of things, let us ad¬ 
 here to the judgment of God. And the rather, 
 .because when we ourselves have done weighing and 
 measuring to others, then God will weigh and mea¬ 
 sure both us and our actions. And when lie doth 
 so, as he will do shortly, then woe bo to him to 
 whom, and of whoso actions it shall be thus said 
 by him, ‘Tekel, thou art weighed in the balances, 
 and are found wanting.’ Da. v. 27. God will then 
 recompense their evil of deceiving upon their own 
 head, when he shall shut them out of his presence, 
 favour, and kingdom, for ever and ever. 
 
 Atten. But it is a wonder, that since Mr. Bad¬ 
 man’s common practice was to do thus, that some 
 one or more did not find him out, and blame him 
 for this his wickedness. 
 
 Wise.. For the generality of people he went away 
 clever with his knavery. For what with his bal¬ 
 ance, his false balance, and good weight, and what 
 with his slight of hand to boot, he beguiled some¬ 
 times a little, and sometimes more, most that ho 
 had to deal with; besides, those that use this 
 naughty trade are either such as blind men with a 
 show of religion, or by hectoring the buyer out by 
 words. I must confess Mr. Badman How Mr. Ead- 
 was not so arch at the first; that aifcf hiie 1 *? 
 is, to do it by show of religion; for cheating, 
 now he began to grow threadbare, though some cf 
 his brethren are arch enough this way, yea, and 
 of his sisters too, for I told you at first that there 
 w r ere a great many of them, and never a one of 
 them good; but for hectoring, for swearing, for 
 b^g, ^ these things would make weight and mea¬ 
 sure, they should not be wanting to Mr. Badman’s 
 customers. 
 
 Atien. Then it seems he kept good weights and 
 a bad balance; well that was better than that both 
 should be bad. 
 
 Wise. Not at all. There lay the depth of his 
 deceit; for if any at any time found fault that he 
 used them hardly, and that they wanted their 
 weight of things, he would reply, Why, did you 
 not see them weighed ? will you not r 1 
 believe your own eyes ? if you question an ^ a bad bal¬ 
 my weights, pray carry them whither piece of kna\ P 
 you will, 1 will maintain them to be ery ‘ 
 good and just. The same he would say of his 
 scales, so he blinded all by his balance. 
 
 Atten. This is cunning indeed ; but as you say, 
 there must be also something done or said to blind 
 therewith, and this I perceive Mr. Badman had. 
 
 Wise. Yes, he had many ways to blind, but I10 
 was never clever at it by making a show of religion, 
 though he cheated his wife therewith; for he was, 
 especially by those that dwelt near him, too well 
 known to do that, though he would bungle at it as 
 well as he could. But there are some that are arch 
 villains this way; they shall to view live a wholo 
 
 1 Purses were worn, in Banyan’s time, hanging to the girdle, 
 or slung over the shoulder, as they uow are in some parts of 
 Germany. A pickpocket was then called ‘ a cut-purse.’— (Ed.) 
 
636 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 life religiously, and yet shall be guilty of these 
 most horrible sins. And yet religion in itself is 
 never the worse, nor yet the true professors of it. 
 But, as Luther says, in the name of God begins 
 all mischief. 1 For hypocrites have no other way 
 to bring their evils to maturity but by using and 
 mixing the name of God and religion therewith. 
 Thus they become whited walls; tor by this white, 
 the white of religion, the dirt of their actions is hid. 
 Mat. xxiii. Thus also they become graves that ap- 
 A cloak of re- pear not, and they that go ovei them, 
 M? n Cheat’s that have to do with them, are not 
 knavery. aware of them, but suffer themselves 
 to be deluded by them. Yea, if there shall, as 
 there will sometimes, rise a doubt in the heart of 
 the buyer about the weight and measure he should 
 have, why, he suffereth his very senses to be also 
 deluded, by recalling of his chapman’s religion to 
 mind, and thinks verily that not his good chapman 
 but himself is out; for he dreams not that his chap¬ 
 man can deceive. But if the buyer shall find it 
 out, and shall make it apparent, that he is be¬ 
 guiled, then shall he be healed by having amends 
 made, and perhaps fault shall be laid upon ser¬ 
 vants, &c. And so Mr. Cheat shall stand for a 
 right honest man in the eye of his customer, though 
 the next time he shall pick his pocket again. 
 
 Some plead custom for their cheat, as if that 
 Some plead cus- could acquit them before the tribunal 
 tom to cheat. 0 f Q 0( p And others say it came to 
 
 them for so much, and, therefore, another must 
 take it for so much, though there is wanting both 
 as to weight and measure; but in all these things 
 there are juggles ; or if not, such must know that 
 ‘that which is altogether just,’ they must do. De. 
 xvi. 20. Suppose that I be cheated myself with a 
 brass half-crown, must I therefore cheat another 
 therewith? if this be bad in the whole, it is also 
 bad in the parts. Therefore, however thou art 
 dealt withal in thy buying, yet thou must deal 
 justly in selling, or thou sinnest against thy soul, 
 and art become as Mr. Badman. And know, that 
 a pretence to custom is nothing worth. It is not 
 custom, but good conscience that will help at God’s 
 tribunal. 
 
 Atten. But I am persuaded that that which is 
 gotten by men this way doth them but little good. 
 
 Wise. 1 am of your mind for that, but this is 
 not considered by those thus minded. For if they 
 can get it, though they get, as we say, the devil 
 and all, by their getting, yet they are content, and 
 count that their getting is much. 2 
 
 1 Many ecclesiastical instruments of terror, spoliation, and 
 
 death, began with, ‘ In the name of God. Amen.’ That sacred 
 name has been, and now is, awfully profaned and prostituted 
 to the vilest purposes.—(E d.) 
 
 3 This is a sad mistake ; such getting is a curse: ‘ Cursed 
 is the deceiver* I will curse your blessings,’ saith Jehovah 
 by his prophet Malachi.— (Ed.) 
 
 Little good ! why do you think they consider 
 that ? No; no more than they consider what they 
 shall do in the judgment, at the day of God Al¬ 
 mighty, for their wrong getting of what they get, 
 and that is just nothing at all. 
 
 But to give you a more direct answer. This 
 kind of getting is so far off from doing them little 
 
 no- 
 
 good, that it doth them no good at They t 
 all; because thereby they lose their thing that eo- 
 
 , T r, ,n. c> sen and cheat. 
 
 own souls; ‘What shall it profit a 
 man if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his 
 own soul ?’ Mar. viii. sc. He loseth then, he loseth 
 greatly that getteth after this fashion. This is 
 the man that is penny-wise and pound-foolish ; 
 this is he that loseth his good sheep for a half¬ 
 penny-worth of tar ; 3 that loseth a soul for a little 
 of the world. And then what doth he get thereby 
 but loss and damage ? Thus he getteth or rather 
 loseth about the world to come. But what doth he 
 
 get in this world, more than travail and sorrow, 
 vexation of spirit, and disappointment ? Men aim 
 at blessedness in getting, I mean, at temporal 
 blessedness; but the man that thus getteth, shall 
 not have that. For though an inheritance after 
 this manner may be hastily gotten at the beginning, 
 yet the end thereof shall not be blessed. They 
 gather it indeed, and think to keep it too, but what 
 says Solomon ? God casteth it away. * The Lord 
 will not suffer the soul of the righteous to famish; 
 but he casteth away the substance of the wicked.’ 
 
 Pr. x. 3 . Je. xv. 13 ; xvii. 3 . 
 
 The time, as I said, that they do enjoy it, it 
 shall do them no good at all; but long, to be sure, 
 they must not have it. For God will either take 
 it away in their lifetime, or else in the generation 
 following, according to that of Job: ‘ He,’ the 
 wicked, ‘ may prepare it, but the just shall put it 
 on. and the innocent shall divide the silver.’ Job 
 xxvii. 17 . 
 
 Consider that also that it is written in the Pro¬ 
 verbs ; ‘ A good man leaveth an inheritance to his 
 children’s children, and the wealth of the sinner is 
 laid up for the just.’ Pr. xiii. 22 . What then doth I 10 
 get thereby, that getteth by dishonest means? Why 
 he getteth sin and wrath, hell and damnation, and 
 now tell me how much he doth get. 
 
 This, I say, is his getting; so that as David 
 says, we may be bold to say too; I beheld the 
 wicked in great prosperity, and presently I cursed 
 his habitation ; for it cannot prosper with him. Ps. 
 lxxiii. Fluster and huff, and make ado for a while 
 he may, but God hath determined that both he and 
 it shall melt like grease, and any observing man 
 may see it so. Behold the unrighteous man, in a 
 way of injustice, getteth much, and loadeth him- 
 
 0 Modern editors, not so well aware as Banyan of the value 
 of tar as a medicine for sheep, altered the word to ship. A 
 halfpenny loorth of tar will serve a sheep, but not a ship.— (Ed.) 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 V61 
 
 self with thick clay, but anon it withereth, it de- 
 caveth, and even he, or the generation following 
 decline, and return to beggary. And this Mr. Bad° 
 man, notwithstanding his cunning and crafty tricks 
 to get money, did die, nobody can tell whether 
 worth a farthing or no. 
 
 Atten. lie had all the bad tricks, I think, 
 that it was possible for a man to have, to get 
 
 money; one would think that he should have been 
 rich. 
 
 Wise. \ou reckon too fast, if you count these 
 
 More of Mr. a ^ ^ad tricks to get money; for 
 Eaciman’ 3 bad he had more besides. If his custom¬ 
 ers were in his books, as it should go 
 hard but he would have them there; at least, & if 
 he thought he could make any advantage of them, 
 then, then would he be sure to impose upon them 
 his worst, even very bad commodity, yet set down 
 for it the price that the best was sold at; like those 
 that sold the refuse wheat; or the worst of the 
 wheat; making the shekel great, yet hoisting up 
 the price. Am. via. This was Mr. Badman’s way. 
 Another art to He would sell goods that cost him not 
 the best price by far, for as much as 
 he sold his best of all for. He had also a trick to 
 mingle his commodity, that that which was bad 
 might go off with the least mistrust. Besides, if 
 his customers at any time paid him money, let them 
 look to themselves, and to their acquaintances, for 
 he would usually attempt to call for that payment 
 again, especially if lie thought that there were hopes 
 ot making a prize thereby, and then to be sure if 
 tney could not produce good and sufficient ground 
 ot the payment, a hundred to one but they paid it 
 again. Sometimes the honest chapman would ap¬ 
 peal to his servants for proof of the payment of 
 money, but they were trained up by him to say af¬ 
 ter his mind, wriglit or wrong; so that, relief that 
 way, he could get none. 
 
 Atten. It is a bad, yea, an abominable thing for 
 a man to have such servants. For by such means 
 a poor customer may be undone, and not know how 
 to help himself. Alas! if the master be so uncon¬ 
 scionable, as I perceive Mr. Badman was, to call 
 for his mouey twice, and if his servant will swear 
 that it is a due debt, where is any help for such a 
 man ? He must sink, there is no remedy. 
 
 \\ ise. 1 his is very bad, but this has been a 
 Servants ob- P ract i ce > and that hundreds of years 
 
 words. tliese ag0, But what saith the Woi'd of 
 God ? * I will punish all those that 
 leap on the threshold, which rill their masters’ 
 houses with violence and deceit.’ z ep . i. 9. 
 
 Mi. Badman also had this art; could he get a 
 man at advantage, that is, if his chapman durst 
 not go fiom him, or if the commodity he wanted 
 could not for the present be conveniently had else¬ 
 where, then let him look to himself, he would 
 
 Of extortion. 
 
 surely make his purse-strings crack; he would ex¬ 
 act upon him without any pity or conscience. 
 
 Atten. 1 hat was extortion, was it not ? I prav 
 let me hear your judgment of extortion, what it is”, 
 and when committed ? 
 
 Wise. Extortion is a screwing from men more 
 than by the law of God or men is right; 
 and it is committed sometimes by them 
 in office, about fees, rewards, and the like: 1 but it 
 is most commonly committed by men of trade, who 
 without all conscience, when they have the advan- 
 tage, will make a prey of their neighbour. And 
 thus was Mr. Badman an extortioner; for although 
 he did not exact, and force away, as bailiffs and 
 clerks have used to do, yet he had his opportuni¬ 
 ties, and such cruelty to make use of them, that 
 he would often, in his way, be extorting and forc¬ 
 ing of money out of his neighbour’s pocket. For 
 every man that makes a prey of his advantage up >n 
 his neighbour’s necessities, to force from him more 
 than in reason and conscience, according to the 
 present prices of things such commodity is worth, 
 may very w r ell be called an extortioner, and judged 
 for one that hath no inheritance in the kingdom 
 of God. 1 Co. vi. 9, 10. 
 
 Atten. Well, this Badman was a sad wretch. 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 [the simple Christian’s views of extortion.] 
 
 Wise. Thus you have often said before. But 
 now we are in discourse of this, give me leave a 
 little to go on. We have a great many people in 
 the country too that live all their days in the prac¬ 
 tice, and so under the guilt of extortion; people, 
 alas ! that think scorn to be so accounted. 
 
 As for example: There is a poor body that dwells, 
 we will suppose, so many miles from who are extor- 
 the market; and this man wants a turners. 
 
 bushel of grist, a pound of butter, or a cheese for 
 himself, his wife, and poor children ; but dwelling 
 so far from the market, if he goes thither, he shall 
 lose his day’s work, which will be eightpence or 
 tenpence damage to him, and that is something to 
 a poor man. 2 So he goeth to one of his masters 
 or dames for what he wanteth, and asks them to 
 help him with such a thing; yes, say they, you 
 may have it; but withal they will give him a gripe. 
 
 This was attempted when Banyan was released from his 
 cruel imprisonment by the King’s pardon, which one instru¬ 
 ment included the names of nearly five hundred sufferers ; and 
 because the fees upon a pardon were twenty pounds, ‘the covetous 
 clerks did strive to exact upon us/ says Whitehead, * by demand¬ 
 ing that sum upon every name.’ Further application to the King 
 put an end to this exaction.—(E d.) 
 
 a When the labourer’s wages were eightpence or tenpence 
 per day, in 1683, wheat averaged forty-five shillings per quarter. 
 How comparatively happy is the present state of our agricul¬ 
 tural labourers; and so would be that of the farmer, if rent 
 was as low now as it was at that period.—(E d.) 
 
638 
 
 TI1E LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 perhaps make him pay as much or more for it at 
 home, as they can get when they have carried it 
 five miles to a market, yea, and that too for the 
 refuse of their commodity. But in this the women 
 are especially faulty, in the sale of their butter and 
 cheese, &c. Now this is a kind of extortion, it is 
 a making a prey of the necessity of the poor, it is 
 a grinding of their faces, a buying and selling of 
 them. 
 
 But above all, your hucksters, that buy up the 
 poor man’s victuals by wholesale, and 
 Hucksters. ge j| him again for unreasonable 
 
 gains, by retail, and as w r e call it by piecemeal; 
 they are got into a way, after a stinging rate, to 
 play their game upon such by extortion: I mean 
 such who buy up butter, cheese, eggs, bacon, &c. 
 by wholesale, and sell it again, as they call it, 
 by pennyworths, two pennyworths, a halfpenny¬ 
 worth, or the like, to the poor, all the week after 
 
 the market is past. 
 
 These, though I will not condemn them all, do, 
 many of them, bite and pinch the poor by this kind 
 of evil dealing. These destroy the poor because 
 he is poor, and that is a grievous sin. ‘ He that 
 oppresseth the poor to increase his riches , and he 
 that giveth to the rich, shall surely come to want.’ 
 Therefore he saith again, ‘ Rob not the poor be¬ 
 cause he is poor, neither oppress the afflicted in 
 the gate: for the Lord will plead their cause, and 
 spoil the soul of them that spoiled them.’ Fr. xxii. ig, 
 22, 23. 
 
 0 that he that gripeth and grindeth the face of 
 the poor, would take notice of these two scriptures! 
 Here is threatened the destruction of the estate, 
 yea and of the soul too, of them that oppress the 
 poor. Their soul we shall better see where, and 
 in what condition that is in, when the day of doom 
 is come; but for the estates of such, they usually 
 quickly moulder; and that sometimes all men, and 
 sometimes no man knows how. 
 
 Besides, these are usurers, yea, they take usury 
 for victuals, which thing the Lord has forbidden. 
 De.xxiii. 19 . And because they cannot so well do it 
 on the market-day, therefore they do it, as I said, 
 when the market is over; for then the poor fall into 
 their mouths, and are necessitated to have, as they 
 can, for their need, and they are resolved they shall 
 pay soundly for it. Perhaps some will find fault 
 for my meddling thus with other folks’ matters, and 
 for my thus prying into the secrets of their iniquity. 
 But to such I would say, since such actions are 
 evil, it is time they were hissed out of the world. 
 For all that do such things offend against God, 
 
 1 Hucksters, or general dealers, were more formidable ene¬ 
 mies to the poor in former days, than in the present time of 
 competition. ‘ A great famine was caused by huckstering hus¬ 
 bandmen, those knaves in grain.’—Fuller’s Worthies , North¬ 
 umberland.— (Ed.) 
 
 wrong their neighbour, and like Mr. Badman do 
 provoke God to judgment. 
 
 Atten. God knows there is abundance of deceit 
 in the world ! 
 
 Wise. Deceit! Ay, but I have not told you the 
 thousandth part of it; nor is it my business now to 
 rake to the bottom of that dunghill. What would 
 you say, if I should anatomize some of those vile 
 wretches called pawnbrokers, that lend money and 
 goods to poor people, who are by necessity forced 
 to such an inconvenience; and will make, by one 
 trick or other, the interest of what they so lend 
 amount to thirty, forty, yea sometimes fifty pound 
 by the year; notwithstanding the principal is se¬ 
 cured by a sufficient pawn ; which they will keep 
 too at last, if they can find any shift to cheat the 
 wretched borrower. 
 
 Atten. Say ! Why such miscreants are the pest 
 and vermin of the commonwealth, not fit for the 
 society of men; but methinks by some of those 
 things you discoursed before, you seem to import 
 that it is not lawful for a man to make the best 
 of his own. 
 
 Wise. If by making the best, you mean to sell 
 
 for as much as by hook or crook he whether it be 
 
 can get for his commodity; then I say 
 
 it is not lawful. And if I should say best of lusown ; 
 
 , t i • *£• ivr t> j proved in the 
 
 the contrary, 1 should justify Mr. Had- negative by 
 
 man and all the rest of that gang; but eigllt ieasons - 
 that I never shall do, for the Word of God con¬ 
 demns them. But that it is not lawful for a man 
 at all times to sell his commodity for as much as 
 he can, I prove by these reasons:— 
 
 First, If it be lawful for me alway to sell my 
 
 commodity as dear, or for as much as I can, then 
 
 it is lawful for me to lay aside in my dealing with 
 
 others good conscience to them and to God; but 
 
 it is not lawful for me, in my dealing with others, 
 
 to lay aside good conscience, &c. Therefore it is 
 
 not lawful for me always to sell my commodity as 
 
 dear, or for as much as I can. That Goodconscience 
 
 it is hot lawful to lay aside good con- must be used 
 , i i j in selling. 
 
 science in our dealings has already 
 been proved in the former part of our discourse; 
 but that'a man must lay it aside that will sell his 
 commodity always as dear, or for as much as he 
 can, is plainly manifest thus. 
 
 1. He that will, as is mentioned afore, sell his 
 commodity as dear as he can, must We must not 
 sometimes make a prey of the ignor- oumeighboui’s 
 ance of his chapman. But that he ignorance. 
 
 cannot do with a good conscience, for that is to 
 overreach, and to go beyond my chapman, and is 
 forbidden, l Th. iv. 6. Therefore he that will sell his 
 commodity as afore, as dear, or for as much as ho 
 can, must of necessity lay aside good conscience. 
 
 2. He that will sell his commodity always as 
 dear as he can, must needs sometimes make a prey 
 
680 
 
 TIIE LIFE AND DE^ 
 
 of his neighbour's necessity; but that he cannot do 
 
 Norofiiisneigii- " a ® 00( * * conscience, for that is to go 
 U.ur’s ueces- beyond and defraud his neighbour, con- 
 
 s ' l} - . trary to 1 Th. iv. s. Therefore lie’that 
 
 will sell his commodity, as afore, as dear, or for 
 as much as he can, must needs cast off and lay 
 aside a good conscience. 
 
 o. lie that will, as afore, sell his commodity as 
 
 Nor of bis fond- ^ eai > or for as much as he can, must, 
 nessofom-com- if need be, make a prey of his neigh¬ 
 bour’s fondness; but that a man can¬ 
 not do with a good conscience, for that is still a 
 going beyond him, contrary to 1 Th iv. 6 . Therefore, 
 he that will sell his commodity as dear, or for as 
 much as he can, must needs cast off, and lay aside 
 good conscience. 
 
 The same also may be said for buying; no man 
 We must ' use may always buy as cheap as he can, 
 m buy^ng? ence ^ ut mus ^ a ^ s ° use good conscience in 
 buying; the which he can by no means 
 use and keep, if he buys always as cheap as he 
 can, and that for the reasons urged before. For 
 such will make a prey of the ignorance, necessity, 
 and fondness of their chapman, the which they 
 cannot do with a good conscience. When Abra¬ 
 ham would buy a burying-place of the sons of 
 Ilctli, thus he said unto them: ‘ Intreat for me to 
 Lphron the son of Zoliar, that he may give me 
 the cave of Macphelah, which he hath - in the end 
 of his field; for as much - as it is worth ’ shall he 
 give it me. Ge. xxin. 8, 9. He would not have it 
 under foot, lie scorned it, he abhorred it; it stood 
 not with his religion, credit, nor conscience. So 
 also, when David would buy a field of Oman the 
 Jebusite, thus he said unto him, ‘ Grant me the 
 place of this thrashing-floor, that I may build an 
 altar therein unto the Lord; thou shalt grant it 
 me for the full price.* 1 Ch. xxi. 22. He also, as 
 Abraham, made conscience of this kind of dealing. 
 He would not lie at catch 1 to go beyond, no, 
 not the Jebusite, but will give him his full price 
 foi his field. For he knew that there was wicked¬ 
 
 ness, as in selling too dear, so in buying too cheap, 
 therefore he would not do it. 2 
 
 rheie ought therefore to be good conscience 
 used, as in selling so in buying; for it is also un¬ 
 lawful for a man to go beyond or to defraud his 
 neighbour in buying; yea, it is unlawful to do it 
 in any matter, and God will plentifully avenge that 
 wiong, as I also before have forewarned and tes¬ 
 tified. See also the text, Le. xxv. 14. But, 
 
 Secondly. If it be lawful forme always to sell 
 
 * io lie at catch, to watch for an opportunity to take an 
 nniatr advantage. See the conversation between Faithful and 
 talkative in the Pilgrim's Progress, p. 124.— (Ed.) 
 
 Augustine had so strong a sense of fair dealing, that when 
 a bookseller asked lor a book far less than it was worth, he, of 
 his own accord, gave hiinthe full value thereof ! 1 See Clark’s 
 Looking-glass, p. 121, edit. 1657.—fEn.) 
 
 HI OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 my commodity as dear, or for as much as I can, 
 then it is lawful for me to deal with my 
 neighbour without the use of charity. 
 
 But it is not lawful for me to lay deilllDgs * 
 aside, or to deal with my neighbour without the 
 use of charity, therefore it is not lawful for mo 
 always to sell my commodity to my neighbour for 
 as much as I can. A man in dealing should as 
 really design his neighbour’s good, profit, and 
 advantage, as his own, for this is to exercise 
 charity in his dealing. 
 
 That I should thus use, or exercise charity to¬ 
 wards my neigbour in my buying and selling, &c., 
 with him, is evident from the general command— 
 ‘ Let all your things be done with charity.’ 1 Co. 
 xvi. 14. But that a man cannot live in the exercise 
 of charity that selleth as afore, as dear, or that 
 buyeth as cheap as he can, is evident by these 
 reasons:— 
 
 1. He that sells his commodity as dear, or for 
 as much money always as he can, seeks himself, 
 and himself only. But charity seeketh not her 
 own, not her own only. 1 Co. xiii. So then he that 
 seeks himself, and himself only, as he that sells, 
 as afore, as dear as he can, does, maketh not use 
 of, nor doth he exercise charity in his so dealing. 
 
 2. He that selleth his commodity always for as 
 much as he can get, hardeneth his heart against 
 all reasonable entreaties of the buyer. But he 
 that doth so cannot exercise charity in his dealing; 
 therefore it is not lawful for a man to sell his 
 commodity, as afore, as dear as he can. 
 
 3. If it be lawful for me to sell my commodity, 
 as afore, as dear as I can, then there can be no 
 sin in my trading, how unreasonably soever I 
 manage my calling, whether by lying, swearing, 
 cursing, cheating, for all this is but to 
 
 1, ?. , _ There may be, 
 
 sell my commodity as dear as I can. and is sin in 
 Ep. iv. 25. But that there is sin in these trddin °' 
 is evident, therefore I may not sell my commodity 
 always as dear as I can. 
 
 4. He that sells, as afore, as dear as he can, 
 
 offereth violence to the law of nature, for that 
 
 saitli, Do unto all men even as ye A man in trad _ 
 
 would that they should do unto you. in & must not 
 ,, . v 1, ofter violence 
 
 Mat. vn. 12 . JNow, was the seller a to the law of 
 
 buyer, he would not that he of whom Udture ‘ 
 
 he buys should sell him always as dear as he can, 
 
 therefore he should not sell so himself when it is 
 
 his lot to sell and others to buy of him. 
 
 5. He that selleth, as afore, as dear as he can, 
 makes use of that instruction that God hath not 
 given to others, but sealed up in his hand, to abuse 
 his law, and to wrong his neighbour withal, which 
 indeed is contrary to God. Job xxxvii. 7 . We must not 
 God hath given thee more skill, more abuse the £ ia 
 
 , 111 i .. .. we have in the 
 
 knowledge and understanding 111 thy knowledge of 
 
 commodity, than he hath given to him eaulll> tJUI ‘ i53 * 
 
640 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR, BAD MAN. 
 
 that would buy of thee. But what! canst thou 
 think that God hath given thee this that thou 
 mightest thereby make a prey of thy neighbour? 
 that thou mightest thereby go beyond and beguile 
 thy neighbour? No, verily, but he hath given thee 
 it for his help, that thou mightest in this be eyes 
 to the blind, and save thy neighbour from that 
 damage that his ignorance, or necessity, or fond¬ 
 ness 1 would betray him into the hands of. l Co. 
 x. 13. 
 
 6. In all that a man does he should have an 
 An eye to the eye to the glory of God, but that he 
 
 an r we f Should cannot have that sells his commodity 
 have. always for as much as he can, for the 
 
 reasons urged before. 
 
 7. All that a man does he should do * in the 
 name of the Lord Jesus ’ Christ, that is, as being 
 commanded and authorized to do it by him. Col. 
 m. 17 . But he that selleth always as dear as he 
 can, cannot so much as pretend to this without 
 horrid blaspheming of that name, because com¬ 
 manded by him to do otherwise. 
 
 8. And lastly, in all that a man does he should 
 have an eye to the day of judgment, and to the 
 consideration of how his actions will be esteemed 
 of in that day. Ac. xxiv. 15,16. Therefore there is not 
 any man can, or ought to sell always as dear as he 
 can, unless he will, yea, he must say in so doing, 
 
 I will run the hazard of the trial of that day. ‘ If 
 thou sell aught unto thy neighbour, or buyest aught 
 of thy neighbour’s hand, ye shall not oppress one 
 another.’ Le. xxv. it. 
 
 Atten. But why do you put in these cautionary 
 words, They must not sell always as dear, nor buy 
 always as cheap as they can? Do you not thereby 
 intimate that a man may sometimes do so? 
 
 Wise. I do indeed intimate that sometimes the 
 seller may sell as dear, and the buyer buy as cheap 
 as he can ; but this is allowable only in these cases: 
 when he that sells is a knave, and lays aside all 
 good conscience in selling, or when the buyer is a 
 knave, and lays aside all good conscience in buy¬ 
 ing. If the buyer therefore lights of a knave, or 
 if the seller lights of a knave, then let them look 
 to themselves; but yet so as not to lay aside con¬ 
 science, because he that thou dealest with doth so, 
 but how vile or base soever the chapman is, do 
 thou keep thy commodity at a reasonable price; 
 or, if thou buyest, offer reasonable gain for the 
 thing thou wouldst have, and if this will not do 
 with the buyer or seller, then seek thee a more 
 honest chapman. If thou objectest, But 1 have 
 not skill to know when a pennyworth is before me, 
 get some that have more skill than thyself in that 
 affair, and let them in that matter dispose of thy 
 
 1 ‘ Fondness/ an inordinate desire to possess. ‘ I have such 
 a fond fantasy of my own.’—Sir T. More.—(E d.) 
 
 money. But if there were no knaves in the world 
 these objections need not be made. 2 
 
 And thus, my very good neighbour, have I given 
 you a few of my reasons why a man that hath it 
 should not always sell too dear nor buy as cheap 
 as he can, but should use good conscience to God 
 and charity to his neighbour in both. 
 
 Atten. But were some men here to hear you, I 
 believe they would laugh you to scorn. 
 
 Wise. I question not that at all, for so Mr. 
 
 Badman used to do when any man told him of his 
 
 faults; he used to think himself wiser Badman used t.o 
 , . , , , T , laugh at them 
 
 than any, and would count, as 1 have tliat told him 
 
 hinted before, that he was not arrived ot hls luults - 
 
 to a manly spirit that did stick or boggle at any 
 
 wickedness. But let Mr. Badman and his fellows 
 
 laugh, I will bear it, and still give them good 
 
 counsel. Lu. xvi. 13-15. But I will remember also, 
 
 for my further relief and comfort, that thus they 
 
 that were covetous of old served the Son of God 
 
 himself. It is their time to laugh now, that they 
 
 may mourn in time to come. Lu. vi. 25. And I say 
 
 again, when they have laughed out their laugh, 
 
 he that usetli not good conscience to God and 
 
 charity to his neighbour in buying and selling, 
 
 dwells next door to an infidel, and is near of kin 
 
 to Mr. Badman. 
 
 Atten. Well, but what will you say to this 
 question? You know that there is no ^ q Uest i 0Q 
 settled price set by God upon any com¬ 
 modity that is bought or sold under the sun, but 
 all things that we buy and sell do ebb and flow, as 
 to price, like the tide; how then shall a man of a 
 tender conscience do, neither to wrong the seller, 
 buyer, nor himself, in buying and selling of com¬ 
 modities? 
 
 An answer. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 [instructions for righteous trading.] 
 
 Wise. This question is thought to be frivolous 
 by all that are of Mr. Badman’s way, it is also 
 difficult in itself, yet I will endeavour 
 to shape you an answer, and that first 
 to the matter of the question, to wit, how a trades¬ 
 man should, in trading, keep a good conscience; 
 a buyer or seller either. Secondly, how he should 
 prepare himself to this work and live in the prac- 
 tiee of it. For the first, he must ob- PreplratioM 
 serve what hath been said before, to be a good 
 wit, he must have conscience to God, dedltr ‘ 
 charity to his neighbour, and, I will add, much 
 moderation in dealing. Let him therefore keep 
 
 2 Cheating, either in quality, weight, or price of commodities, 
 is not common in Mahometan countries, where the punish¬ 
 ment is very severe; that of nailing the dealer’s ears to his 
 door-posts. It is a foul disgrace to Christian countries that 
 these crimes are so common.— (Kd ) 
 
641 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 
 
 within tno bounds of the affirmative of those eight 
 ' easons that before were urged to prove that men 
 ought not, in their dealing, but to do justly and 
 mercifully betwixt man and man, and then there 
 will be no great fear of wronging the seller, buyer, 
 or himself. But particularly to prepare or instruct 
 a man to this work:— 
 
 1. Let the tradesman or others consider that 
 there is not that in great gettings and in abund¬ 
 ance which the most of men do suppose; for all 
 that a man has over and above what serves for his 
 piesent necessity and supply, serves only to feed 
 the lusts of the eye. For ‘ what good is there to 
 the owners thereof, saving the beholding of them 
 with their eyes?’ e c . v. 11 . Men also, many times, 
 in getting of riches, get therewith a snare to their 
 soul. i Ti. vi. 7—9. But few get good by getting of 
 
 them. But this consideration Mr. Badman could 
 not abide. 
 
 2. Consider that the getting of wealth dis¬ 
 honestly as he does that getteth it without good 
 conscience and charity to his neighbour—is a great 
 offender against God. Hence he says, ‘ I have 
 omitten mine hand at thy dishonest gain which 
 thou hast made.’ Eze. xxii. is. It is a manner of 
 speech that shows anger in the very making of 
 mention of the crime. Therefore, 
 
 o. Consider that a little, honestly gotten, though 
 it niay yield thee but a dinner of herbs at a time, 
 will yield more peace therewith than will a stalled 
 ox ill gotten. Pr. *v. it. ‘Better is a little with 
 iighteousness, than great revenues without right.’ 
 
 Pr. xvL 8 . 1 Sa. ii. 5 . 
 
 4. Be thou confident that God’s eyes are upon 
 all thy ways, and ‘that he pondereth all thy 
 goings, and also that he marks them, writes 
 them down, and seals them up in a bag against 
 the time to come. Pr. v. 21. job xiv. 17. 
 
 5. Be thou sure that thou rememberest that 
 thou knowest not the day of thy death. Bemem- 
 bei also that when death comes God will give thy 
 substance, for the which thou hast laboured, and 
 for the which perhaps thou hast hazarded thy soul, 
 to one thou knowest not who, nor whether he shall 
 be a wise man or a fool. And then, ‘ what profit 
 hath he that hath laboured for the wind?’ Ec. v. ig. 
 
 Besides, thou shalt have nothing that thou 
 mayest so much as carry away in thine hand. 
 Guilt shall go with thee if thou hast got it [thy 
 substance] dishonestly, and they also to whom 
 thou shalt leave it shall receive it to their hurt. 
 These things duly considered and made use of by 
 thee to the preparing of thy heart to thy calling 
 of buying and selling, I come, in the next place, to 
 show thee how thou shouldst live in the practick 
 part of this art. Art thou to buy or sell? 
 
 1. If thou sellest, do not commend; if thou 
 buyest, do not dispraise; any otherwise but to 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 give the thing that thou hast to do with its just 
 value and worth; for thou canst not do otherwise, 
 knowingly, but of a covetous and wicked mind! 
 Wherefore else are commodities overvalued by the 
 seller, and also undervalued by the buyer. ‘ It is 
 naught, it is naught, saith the buyer,’ but when he 
 hath got his bargain he boasteth thereof. p r . xx . h. 
 What hath this man done now, but lied in the 
 dispraising of his bargain ? and why did he dis¬ 
 praise it, but of a covetous mind to wrong and 
 beguile the seller? 
 
 2. Art thou a seller, and do things grow dear? 
 Set not thy hand to help or hold them up higher; 
 this cannot be done without wickedness neither, 
 for this is a making of the shekel great. Am. viii. 5 . 
 Art thou a buyer, and do tilings grow dear? use 
 no cunning or deceitful language to pull them 
 down, for that cannot be done but wickedly too. 
 What then shall we do, will you say? Why I 
 answer, leave things to the providence of God, and 
 do thou with moderation submit to his hand. But 
 since, when they are growing dear, the hand that 
 upholds the price is, for the time, more strong 
 than that which would pull it down; that being 
 the hand of the seller, who loveth to have it dear, 
 especially if it shall rise in his hand. Therefore 
 I say, do thou take heed and have not a hand in 
 it, the which thou mayest have to thine own and 
 thy neighbour’s hurt, these three ways:— 
 
 1. By crying out scarcity, scarcity, beyond the 
 trutii and state of things; especially take heed of 
 doing of this by way of a prognostic for time to 
 come. It was for this for which he A judgment of 
 was trodden to death in the gate of God. 
 Samaria, that you read of in the second book of 
 Kings. 2 Ki. vii. 17 . This sin hath a double evil in 
 it. (1.) It belieth the present blessing of God 
 among us; and (2.) It undervalued the riches of 
 his goodness, which can make all good things to 
 abound towards us. 
 
 2. This wicked thing may be done by hoarding 
 up when the hunger and necessity of the poor calls 
 for it. Now, that God may show his dislike 
 against this, he doth, as it were, license the people 
 to curse such a hoarder up—‘ He that withholdeth 
 corn, the people shall curse him, but blessing shall 
 be upon the head of him that scllcth it. 1 rr. X i. 20 . 
 
 3. But if things will rise, do thou be grieved, 
 be also moderate in all thy sellings, and be sure 
 let the poor have a pennyworth, and sell thy corn 
 to those in necessity. Which then thou wilt do 
 when thou showest mercy to the poor in thy selling 
 to him, and wdien thou, for his sake because he is 
 poor, underscllest the market. This is to buy and 
 sell with good conscience; thy buyer thou wrongest 
 not, thy conscience thou wrongest not, thyself thou 
 wrongest not, for God will surely recompense thee, 
 is. ivfiL c—s. I have spoken concerning corn, but 
 
 81 
 
G42 
 
 THE LTFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 thy duty is to ‘ let your moderation ’ in all things 
 * be known unto all men, the Lord is at hand. 
 
 Phi. iv. 5 . 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 [badman’s pride, atheism, infidelity, and envy.] 
 
 Atten. Well, Sir, now I have heaid enough of 
 Mr. Badman’s naughtiness, pray now proceed to 
 
 his death. 
 
 Wise. Why, Sir, the sun is not so low, we have 
 
 yet three hours to night. 
 
 Atten. Nay, I am not in any great haste, but 
 I thought you had even now done with nis life. 
 Wise. Bone! no, I have yet much moie to say. 
 Atten. Then he has much more wickedness 
 than I thought he had. 
 
 Wise. That may he. But let us proceed. 
 Mr. Bataan a This Mr. Badman added to all his 
 very proud man. wickedness this, he was a very proud 
 man, a very proud man. He was exceeding proud 
 and haughty in mind; he looked that what he said 
 ought not, must not he contradicted or opposed. 
 He counted himself as wise as the wisest in the 
 country, as good as the best, and as beautiful as 
 he that had most of it. He took great delight in 
 praising of himself, and as much in the praises 
 that others gave him. He could not abide that 
 any should think themselves above him, or that 
 their wit or personage should by 
 
 Of pride in general. ^ ^ befor0 hig< He had 
 
 scarce a fellowly carriage for his equals. But for 
 those that were of an inferior rank, he would look 
 over them in great contempt. And if at any time 
 he had any remote occasion of having to do with 
 them, he would show great height and a very 
 domineering spirit. So that in this it may be 
 said that Solomon gave a characteristical note of 
 him when he said, ‘ Proud and haughty scorner is 
 his name, who dealeth in proud wrath.’ Pr. xxi. 24 . 
 He never thought his diet well enough dressed, his 
 clothes fine enough made, or his praise enough 
 refined. 
 
 Atten. This pride is a sin that sticks as close 
 to nature, I think, as most sins. There is un¬ 
 cleanness and pride, I know not of any two gross 
 sins that stick closer to men than they. They 
 have, as I may call it, an interest in nature; it 
 likes them because they most suit its lusts and 
 fancies; and therefore no marvel though Mr. Bad¬ 
 man was tainted with pride, since he had so wick¬ 
 edly given up himself to work all iniquity with 
 greediness. 
 
 Wise. You say right; pride is a sin that sticks 
 close to nature, and is one of the first follies where- 
 
 Pride sticks close in it shows itself to be polluted. Eor 
 to nature. even j n childhood, even in little chil¬ 
 
 dren, pride will first of all show itself; it is a hasty, 
 
 an early appearance of the sin of the soul. It, 
 as I may say, is that corruption that strives for 
 predominancy in the heart, and therefore usually 
 comes out first. But though children are so in¬ 
 cident to it, yet methinks those of more years 
 should be ashamed thereof. I might at the first 
 have begun with Mr. Badman’s pride, only I think 
 it is not the pride in infancy that begins to make 
 a difference betwixt one and another, as did, and 
 do those wherewith I began my relation of his life, 
 therefore I passed it over, but now, since he had 
 no more consideration of himself, and of his vile 
 and sinful state, but to be proud when come to 
 years, I have taken the occasion in this place to 
 
 make mention of his pride. 
 
 Atten. But pray, if you can remember them, 
 tell me of some places of scripture that speak 
 against pride. I the rather desire this because 
 that pride is now a reigning sin, and I happen 
 sometimes to fall into the company of them that 
 in my conscience are proud, very much, and I have 
 a mind also to tell them of their sin, now when I 
 tell them of it, unless I bring God’s Word too, I 
 doubt they will laugh me to scorn. 
 
 Wise. Laugh you to scorn! the proud man will 
 laugh you to scorn bring to him what text you 
 can, except God shall smite him in his conscience 
 by the Word. Mr. Badman did use to serve them 
 so that did use to tell him of his; and besides, 
 when you have said what you can, they will tell 
 you they are not proud, and that you are lather 
 the proud man, else you would not judge, nor 
 so malapertly 1 meddle with other men s mat¬ 
 ters as you do. Nevertheless, since you desire it, 
 I will mention two or three texts; they are these: 
 —‘ Pride and arrogancy - do I hate. Pr. viii. 13 . 
 
 ‘ A man’s pride shall bring him low. Pr. xxix. 23 . 
 
 ‘ And he shall bring down their pride.’ is. xxv. 11. 
 
 ‘ And all the proud, yea, and all that do wickedly, 
 shall be stubble, and the day that cometh shall 
 burn them up.’ Mai. iv. 1 . This last is a dreadful 
 text, it is enough to make a proud man shake. 
 God, saith he, will make the proud ones as stubble; 
 that is, as fuel for the fire, and the day that cometh 
 shall be like a burning oven, and that day shall 
 burn them up, saith the Lord. But Mr. Badman 
 could never abide to hear pride spoken against, 
 nor that any should say of him, He is a pioud 
 man. 
 
 Atten. What should be the reason of that ? 
 Wise. He did not tell me the reason; but I sup¬ 
 pose it to be that which is common to Proud men do 
 all vile persons. They love this vice, 
 
 but care not to bear its name. The 
 drunkard loves the sin, but loves not to be called 
 
 1 Malapert, dexterous in evil-speaking. ‘ It is blasphemous 
 to say that God will not hear us for our presumptuous mala- 
 fieriness unless we invoke the saiuts.’ lyndale. 
 
G43 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MS. BADMAN. 
 
 a drunkard. The thief loveth to steal, but cannot 
 abide to be called a thief; the whore loveth to 
 commit uncleanness, but loveth not to be called a 
 whore. And so Mr. Badman loved to be proud, 
 but could not abide to be called a proud man. The 
 sweet of sin is desirable to polluted and corrupted 
 man, but the name thereof is a blot in his escut¬ 
 cheon. 1 
 
 Atten. It is true that you have said; but pray 
 how many sorts of pride are there ? 
 
 M ise. There are two sorts of pride; pride of 
 Two sorts of spirit, and pride of body. The first of 
 pndu these is thus made mention of in the 
 scriptures. ‘ Every one that is proud in heart is 
 an abomination to the Lord.’ p r . xvi. 5 . ‘ A high 
 
 look, and a proud heart, and the ploughing of the 
 wicked, is sin.’ rr. xxi. 4. * The patient in spirit is 
 
 better than the proud in spirit.’ Ec. vii. s. Bodily 
 pride the Scriptures mention. ‘ In that day the 
 Lord will take away the bravery of tlieir tinkling 
 ornaments about their feet, and their cauls, and their 
 round tires like the moon, the chains and the 
 bracelets, and the mufilers, the bonnets, and the 
 ornaments of the legs, and the headbands, and 
 the tablets, and the earrings, the rings, and nose 
 jewels, 2 the changeable suits of apparel, and the 
 mantles, and the wimples, and the crisping pins, 
 the glasses, and the fine linen, and the hoods, and 
 the vails.’ is. iii. is- 23 . By these expressions it is 
 evident that there is pride of body, as Avell as pride 
 of spirit, and that both are sin, and so abominable 
 to the Lord. But these texts Mr. Badman could 
 never abide to read; they were to him as Micaiah 
 was to Ahab, they never spake good of him, but 
 evil. 
 
 Atteu. I suppose that it was not Mr. Badman’s 
 
 Wicked men do case alone even to malign those texts 
 hate that word ■ i , „ r 
 
 that reproves tliat speak against their vices; fori 
 
 their vice. believe that most ungodly men, where 
 
 the Scriptures are, have a secret antipathy against 
 
 those words of God that do most plainly and fully 
 
 rebuke them for their sins. 
 
 M ise. That is out of doubt; and by that anti¬ 
 pathy they show that sin and Satan are more 
 welcome to them than are wholesome instructions 
 of life and godliness. 
 
 Atten. Well, but not to go off from our dis¬ 
 course of Mr. Badman. You say he was proud; 
 
 1 This is a phrase in heraldry to signify that the armorial 
 bearings are marked with some sign of disgrace. Thus John 
 de Aveoues having reviled his mother in the King’s presence, 
 he ordered that the tongue and claw of the lion which he bore 
 in his arms should be defaced. In many cases a baton is in¬ 
 serted as a mark of illegitimacy.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 From a tine Persian drawing in the editor’s cabinet, it ap¬ 
 pears that the nose jewel lies on the right cheek, and is fixed 
 by a ring cut through to form a spring ; one edge of the cut 
 going inside, and the other meeting outside the nostril, so as 
 to be readily removed as occasion required.— (Ed.) 
 
 but will you show me now some symptoms of one 
 that is proud ? 
 
 Wise. Tes, that I will; and first I will show 
 you some symptoms of pride of heart. Signs of t proud 
 1 ride of lieart is seen by outward muu in general, 
 things, as pride of body in general is a sign of 
 pride of heart; for all proud gestures of the body 
 flow from pride of heart; therefore Solomon saith, 
 ‘ There is a generation, 0 how lofty are their eyes, 
 and their eye-lids are lifted up. Pr. xxx. 13. And 
 again, there is ‘that exalteth his gait,’ his going. 
 Pr. xvii. ia. Now, these lofty eyes, and this exalt¬ 
 ing of the gait, is a sign of a proud heart; for 
 both these actions come from the heart. For out 
 of the heart comes pride, in all the visible appear¬ 
 ances of it. Mar. vii. But more particularly — 
 
 1. Heart pride is discovered by a stretched-out 
 neck, and by mincing as they go. For 
 the wicked, the proud, have a proud In particular * 
 neck, a proud foot, a proud tongue, by which this 
 their going is exalted. This is that which makes 
 them look scornfully, speak ruggedly, and carry 
 it liuffingly among their neighbours. 2. A proud 
 heart is a persecuting one. ‘ The wicked in his 
 pride doth persecute the poor.’ p s . x. 2 . 3. A 
 
 prayerless man is a proud man. p s . x. 4 . 4. A con¬ 
 tentious man is a proud man. rr. xiii. 10 . 5. The 
 
 disdainful man is a proud man. Ps. cxix. 51 . 6. The 
 man that oppresses his neighbour is a proud man. 
 Ps. cxix. 122 . 7. He that hearkeneth not to God’s 
 
 word with reverence and fear is a proud man. 
 Je. xiii. 15 ,17. 8. And he that calls the proud happy 
 is, be sure, a proud man. All these are proud in 
 heart, and this their pride of heart doth thus dis¬ 
 cover itself. Je. xliii. 2. Mai. iii. 15. 
 
 As to bodily pride, it is discovered that is some¬ 
 thing of it, by all the particulars 
 mentioned before; for though they 0foutward P nde - 
 are said to he symptoms of pride of heart, yet they 
 are symptoms of that pride, by their showing of 
 themselves in the body. You know diseases that 
 are within are seen offctiraes by outward and visible 
 signs, yet by these very signs even the outside is 
 defiled also. So all those visible signs of heart 
 pride are signs of bodily pride also. But to como 
 to more outward signs. The putting on of gold, 
 and pearls, and costly array; the plaiting of the 
 hair, the following of fashions, the seeking by 
 gestures to imitate the proud, either by speech, 
 looks, dresses, goings, or other fools’ baubles, of 
 which at this time the world is full, all these, and 
 many more, are signs, as of a proud heart, so of 
 bodily pride also. 1 Ti. ii. 9. 1 Pe. iii. 3-5. 
 
 But Mr. Badman would not allow, by any means, 
 that this should be called pride, hut Mr. Badman 
 rather neatness, handsomeness, come- Sng^pride 
 iness, cleanliness, &e., neither would ca‘led pride, 
 he allow that following of fashions was anything 
 
644 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 else, but because be would not be proud, singular, 
 and esteemed fantastical by bis neighbours. 
 
 Atten. But I have been told that when some 
 have been rebuked for their pride, they have turned 
 it again upon the brotherhood of those by whom 
 they have been rebuked, saying, Physician, heal 
 thy friends, look at home among your brother¬ 
 hood, even among the wisest of you, and see if yoil 
 yourselves be clear, even you professors. For who 
 is prouder than you professors ? scarcely the devil 
 himself. 
 
 Wise. My heart aches at this answer, because 
 „ , , u there is too much cause for it. This 
 
 Professors guilty ,, , 
 
 of the sin of very answer would Mr. Bauman give 
 
 pnde * his wife when she, as she would some¬ 
 
 times, reprove him for his pride. We shall have, 
 says he, great amendments in living now, for the 
 devil is turned a corrector of vice ; for no sin reign- 
 eth more in the world, quoth he, than pride among 
 professors. And who can contradict him ? Let 
 us give the devil his due, the thing is too apparent 
 for any man to deny. And I doubt not but the 
 same answer is ready in the mouths of Mr Bad- 
 man’s friends ; for they may and do see pride dis¬ 
 play itself in the apparel and carriages of profes¬ 
 sors, one may say, almost as much, as among any 
 people in the land, the more is the pity. Ay, and 
 I fear that even their extravagancies in this hath 
 hardened the heart of many a one, as I perceive it 
 did somewhat the heart of Mr. Badman himself. 
 For my own part, I have seen many myself, and 
 those church members too, so decked and be¬ 
 daubed with their fangles 1 and toys, and that 
 when they have been at the solemn appointments 
 of God in the way of his worship, that I have 
 wondered with what face such painted persons 
 could sit in the place where they were without 
 swooning. But certainly the holiness of God, and 
 also the pollution of themselves by sin, must need 
 be very far out of the minds of such people, what 
 profession soever they make. 
 
 I have read of a whore’s forehead, and I have 
 read of Christian shamefacedness. Je. Hi. 3 . 1 Ti. ii. 9 . 
 I have read of costly array, and of that which be- 
 cometh women professing godliness, with good 
 works. 1 Pe. in. i-3. But if I might speak, I know 
 what I know, and could say, and yet do no wrong, 
 that which would make some professors stink in 
 their places; but now I forbear. Je. xxiii. 15 . 
 
 Atten. Sir, you seem greatly concerned at this, 
 but what if I shall say more ? It is whispered 
 that some good ministers have countenanced their 
 people in their light and wanton apparel, yea, 
 have pleaded for their gold and pearls, and costly 
 array, Ac. 
 
 1 An attempt at something new, a foolish innovation, gene¬ 
 rally used with the word netv ; as, ‘ In holiday gown, and my 
 . new fanyled hat.’ — Cunningham. —(Ed.) 
 
 And I will 
 
 Pride in profes¬ 
 sors a shame 
 and stumbling- 
 block to the 
 world. 
 
 Wise. I know not what they have pleaded for, 
 but it is easily seen that they tolerate, or at least¬ 
 wise, wink and connive at such things, both in 
 their wives and children. And so ‘ from the pro¬ 
 phets of Jerusalem is profaneness gone forth into 
 all the land.’ Je. xxiii. is. And when the hand of 
 the rulers are chief in a trespass, who can keep 
 their people from being drowned in that trespass ? 
 
 Ezr. ix. 2 . 
 
 Atten. This is a lamentation, and must stand 
 for a lamentation. 
 
 Wise. So it i3, and so it must, 
 add, it is a shame, it is a reproach, it 
 is a stumbling block to the blind; for 
 though men be as blind as Mr. Bad- 
 man himself, yet they can see the 
 foolish lightness that must needs be the bottom of 
 all these apish and wanton extravagancies. But 
 many have their excuses ready; to wit, their par¬ 
 ents, their husbands, and their breeding calls for 
 it, and the like; yea, the examples of good people 
 prompt them to it; but all these will be but the 
 spider’s web, when the thunder of the word of the 
 great God shall rattle from heaven against them, 
 as it will at death or judgment; but I wish it 
 misht do it before. But alas! these excuses are 
 but bare pretences, these proud ones love to have 
 it so. I once talked with a maid by way of re¬ 
 proof for lier fond and gaudy garment. But she 
 told me, The tailor would make it so; 
 when alas! poor proud girl, she gave 
 order to the tailor so to make it. Many make 
 parents, and husbands, and tailors, Ac., the blind 
 to others; but their naughty hearts, and their 
 giving of way thereto, that is the original cause of 
 all these evils. 
 
 Atten. Now j’ou are speaking of the cause of 
 pride, pray show me yet further why why pride is in 
 pride is now so much in request. sut:h request - 
 
 Wise. I wili show you what I think are the 
 reasons of it. 
 
 1. The first is, because, such persons are led by 
 their own hearts, rather than by the _ 
 
 1-iT , /» sw i t . i i First reason. 
 
 Word of God. Mar. vii. 21 - 23 . 1 told yOU 
 
 before that the original fountain of pride is the 
 
 heart. For out of the heart comes pride; it is, 
 
 therefore, because they are led by their hearts, 
 
 which naturally tend to lift them up in pride. This 
 
 pride of heart tempts them, and by its deceits over- 
 
 eometh them ; yea, it doth put a bewitching virtue 
 
 into their peacock’s feathers, and then they are 
 
 swallowed up with the vanity of them. Oba. 3. 
 
 2. Another reason why professors are so proud 
 for those we are talking of now, is 
 because they are more apt to take 
 example by those that are of the world, than they 
 are to take example of those that are saints indeed. 
 Pride is of the world. * For all that is in the world. 
 
 Second reason. 
 
615 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 tlie lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and 
 the pride of life, is not of the Father but of the 
 world. ’iJn.il. 16 . Of the world, therefore, professors 
 learn to be proud. But they should not take them 
 for example. It will be objected, No, nor your saints 
 neither, for you are as proud as others ; well, let 
 them take shame that are guilty. But when I say 
 professors should take example for their life by 
 those that are saints indeed, I mean as Peter says ; 
 they should take example of those that were in old 
 time the saints ; for saints of old time were the 
 best, therefore to these he directed us for our pat¬ 
 tern. Let the wives conversation be chaste and 
 also coupled with fear. ‘ Whose adorning,’ saith 
 i eter, ‘ let it not be that outward adorning of 
 plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of 
 putting on of apparel; but let it be the hidden man 
 of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even 
 the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in 
 the sight of God of great price. For after this 
 manner, in the old time, the holy women also who 
 trusted in God, adorned themselves, being in sub¬ 
 jection to their own husbands.’ l re. m. 1 - 5 . 
 
 3. Another reason is, because they have forgotten 
 
 . . the pollution of their nature. For the 
 
 remembrance of that must needs keep 
 us humble, and being kept humble, we shall be at 
 a distance from pride. The proud and the humble 
 are set in opposition ; * God resisteth the proud, 
 but giveth grace unto the humble.’ And can it be 
 imagined that a sensible Christian should be a proud 
 one; sense of baseness tends to lay us low, not to 
 lift us up with pride; not with pride of heart, nor 
 pride of life. But when a man begins to forget 
 what lie is, then he, if ever, begins to be proud. 
 Metninks it is one of the most senseless and ridicul¬ 
 ous things in the world that a man should be proud 
 of that which is given him on purpose to cover the 
 shame of his nakedness with. 
 
 4. Persons that are proud have gotten God and 
 
 his holiness out of their sight. If God 
 
 Fourth reason. , „ .. . . ® , . , . . 
 
 was before them, as he is behind their 
 
 back. And if they saw him in his holiness, as he 
 sees them in their sins and shame, they would take 
 but little pleasure in their apish knacks. The 
 holiness of God makes the angels cover their faces, 
 crumbles Christians, when they behold it, into dust 
 and ashes. And as his majesty is, such is his 
 Word. is. vi. Therefore they abuse it that bring it 
 to countenance pride. 
 
 Lastly. But what can be the end of those that 
 . are proud in the decking of themselves 
 
 after their antic manner? Why are 
 they for going with their bull’s foretops, 1 with their 
 naked shoulders, and paps hanging out like a cow’s 
 
 1 A tuft of hair worn on a man’s forehead, or a projecting 
 conspicuous part of the women’s caps worn by the fashionables 
 of that time.—(En.) 
 
 bag? Why are they for painting their faces, for 
 stretching out their neck, and for putting of them¬ 
 selves unto all the formalities which proud fancy 
 leads them to? Is it because they would honour 
 God ? because they would adorn the gospel ? be¬ 
 cause they would beautify religion, and make sinners 
 to fall in love with their own salvation ? No, no, 
 it is rather to please their lusts, to satisfy their wild 
 and extravagant fancies ; and I wish none doth it 
 to stir up lust in others, to the end they may com¬ 
 mit uncleanness with them. I believe, whatever is 
 their end, this is one of the great designs of the 
 devil; and I believe also that Satan has drawn 
 more into the sin of uncleanness by the spangling 
 show of fine cloths, than he could possibly have 
 drawn unto it without them. I wonder what it 
 was that of old was called the attire of a harlot ; 
 certainly it could not be more bewitching and 
 tempting than are the garments of many professors 
 this day. 
 
 Atten. I like what you say very well, and I 
 wish that all the proud dames in England that 
 profess were within the reach and sound of your 
 words. 
 
 Wise. What I have said I believe is true ; but 
 as for the proud dames in England that profess, 
 they have Moses and the prophets, and if they will 
 not hear them, how then can we hope that they 
 should receive good by such a dull-sounding ram’s- 
 horn as I am V However, I have said my mind, 
 and now, if you will, we will proceed to some other 
 of Mr. Bad man’s doings. 
 
 Atten - . No ; pray, before you show me anything 
 else of Mr. Badman, show me yet - , 
 more particularly the evil effects of of the sia of 
 this sin of pride. 1)llde ‘ 
 
 Wise. With all my heart I will answer your re¬ 
 quest. 
 
 1. Then : It is pride that makes poor man so 
 
 like the devil in hell, that he cannot _ 
 
 ♦ . 1 1 . , ,. , First evil effects, 
 
 in it be known to be the image and 
 
 similitude of God. The angels, when they became 
 
 devils, it was through their being lifted or puffed 
 
 up witli pride. 1 Ti. m. 6. It is pride also that lifteth 
 
 or puffeth up the heart of the sinner, and so makes 
 
 him to bear the very image of the devil. 
 
 2. Pride makes a man so odious in the sight of 
 God, that he shall not, must not, come second evil ef- 
 nigh his majesty. * Though the Lord fect - 
 
 be high, yet hath he respect unto the lowly; but 
 the proud he knoweth afar off.’ Ps. cxxxviii. 6 . Pride 
 sets God and the soul at a distance ; pride will not 
 let a man come nigh God, nor God will not let a 
 
 2 No one, except he has blown a ram’s horn, or attended the 
 Jewish ceremony of the New-year, Tizri 1 (Sept.), can imagine 
 the miserable sounding of a ram’s horn. Bunyan, with all his 
 powers and popularity, was, to an extraordinary degree, * a 
 humble mau.’— (Ed.) 
 
646 
 
 THE LITE AND DEATH OE MR. BADMAN. 
 
 man come nigh unto him. 
 
 Now this is a 
 
 Third evil effect. 
 
 proud 
 dreadful thing. 
 
 3. As pride sets, so it keeps God and the soul 
 at a distance. ‘ God resisteth the 
 proud.’ Ja. iv. 6. Resists, that is, he 
 
 opposes him, he thrusts him from him, he con- 
 temneth his person and all his performances. 
 Come unto God’s ordinances the proud man may; 
 hut come into his presence, have communion with 
 him, or blessing from him, he shall not. P or the 
 high God doth resist him. 
 
 4. The Word saitli that ‘ The Lord will destroy 
 
 Fourth evil ef- the house of the proud.’ Tr. XV. 25 . He 
 feet- will destroy his house; it may be under¬ 
 
 stood he will destroy him and his. So he destroyed 
 proud Pharaoh, so he destroyed proud Korah, and 
 many others. 
 
 5. Pride, where it comes, and is entertained, is 
 
 a certain forerunner of some judgment 
 Fifth evil effect. j g no j- f ar Behind. When pride 
 
 goes before, shame and destruction will follow after. 
 
 * When pride cometh, then cometh shame.’ Fr. xi. 2. 
 
 «Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty 
 spirit before a fall.’ Pr. xvi. is. 
 
 6 . Persisting in pride makes the condition of a 
 
 poor man as remediless as is that of 
 Sixth evil effect, bedevils themselves. 1 Ti. iii. 6. And 
 
 this, I fear, was Mr. Badman’s condition, and that 
 was the reason that he died so as he did; as I shall 
 show you anon. 
 
 But what need I thus talk of the particular ac¬ 
 tions, or rather the prodigious sins of 
 ^racter F of Mr. Mr. Badman, when his whole life, and 
 Badman. a q pi s actions, went, as it were, to the 
 making up one massy body of sin ? Instead of be¬ 
 lieving that there was a God, his mouth, his life 
 and actions, declared that he believed no such 
 thing. 1 His ‘ transgression saith within my heart, 
 that there was no fear of God before his eyes.’ Ps. 
 .... ... xxxvi. 1. Instead of honouring of God, 
 
 A brief relation . „ . . , , . . / c 
 
 of Mr. Bad- and of giving glory to him tor any oi 
 
 manswajs. j^s mercies, or under any of his good 
 providences towards him, for God is good to all, 
 and lets his sun shine, and his rain fall upon the 
 unthankful and unholy, he would ascribe the glory 
 to other causes. If they were mercies, he would 
 ascribe them, if the open face of the providence 
 did not give him the lie, to his own wit, labour, 
 care, industry, cunning, or the like. If they w^ere 
 crosses, he would ascribe them, or count them the 
 offspring of fortune, ill luck, chance, the ill man¬ 
 agement of matters, the ill will of neighbours, or 
 to his wife’s being religious, and spending, as he 
 called it, too much time in reading, praying, or the 
 like. It was not in his way to acknowledge God, 
 
 1 A professor of Christianity who indulges in sin, is the 
 worst of Atheists. Such conduct is practical hypocrisy and 
 Atheism.— (Ed.) 
 
 that is, graciously, or his hand in things. But, 
 as the prophet saith, ‘ Let favour be showed to the 
 wicked, yet will he not learn righteousness.’ Is. 
 xxvi. 10 . And again, They returned not to him that 
 smote them, nor did they seek the Lord of hosts, 
 is. ix. is. This was Mr. Badman’s temper, neither 
 mercies nor judgment would make him seek the 
 Lord. Nay, as another scripture says, ‘ He would 
 not see the works of God, nor regard the opera¬ 
 tions of his hands either in mercies or in judg¬ 
 ments.’ is. xxvi. ii. Ps. xxix. 5. But farther, when 
 
 by providence he has been cast under the best 
 means for his soul—for, as was showed before, he 
 having had a good master, and before him a good 
 father, and after all a good wife, and being some¬ 
 times upon a journey, and cast under the hearing 
 of a good sermon, as he would sometimes for 
 novelty’s sake go to hear a good preacher—he was 
 always without heart to make use thereof. Pr. xvii. 6. 
 In this land of righteousness he would deal un¬ 
 justly, and would not behold the majesty of the 
 Lord. is. xxvi. 10 . 
 
 Instead of reverencing the Word, when he heard 
 it preached, read, or discoursed of, he Mr Ka( j man > a 
 would sleep, talk of other business, or judgment of 
 else object against the authority, har¬ 
 mony, and wisdom of the Scriptures ; saying, How 
 do you know them to be the Word of God ? IIow 
 do you know that these sayings are true ? The 
 Scriptures, he would say, Avere as a nose of wax, 
 and a man may turn them whithersoever he lists. 
 One scripture says one thing, and another says the 
 quite contrary; besides, they make mention of a 
 thousand impossibilities ; they are the cause of all 
 dissensions and discords that are in the land. 
 Therefore you may, would he say, still think what 
 you will, but in my mind they are best at ease 
 that have least to do with them. 
 
 Instead of loving and honouring of them that 
 
 Good men Mr. 
 Badman’s song. 
 
 did bear in their foreheads the name, 
 and in their lives the image of Christ, 
 they should be his song, the matter of his jests, 
 and the objects of his slanders. Pie would either 
 make a mock at their sober deportment, their 
 gracious language, quiet behaviour, or else des¬ 
 perately swear that they did all in deceit and 
 hypocrisy. He would endeavour to render godly 
 men as odious and contemptible as he could; any 
 lies that were made by any, to their disgrace, 
 those he would avouch for truth, and would not 
 endure to be controlled. Pie was much like those 
 that the prophet speaks of, that would sit and 
 slander his mother’s son. Ps. 1.19, 20 . Yea, he would 
 speak reproachfully of his wife, though his con¬ 
 science told him, and many ■would testily, that she 
 was a very virtuous woman. He would also raise 
 slanders of his wife’s friends himself, affirming 
 that their doctrine tended to lasciviousness, and 
 
i 
 
 TIIE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 that in their assemblies they acted and did unbe¬ 
 seeming men and women, that they committed un¬ 
 cleanness, &c. lie was much like those that 
 affirmed the apostle should say, * Let us do evil 
 that good may come. ’ r 0 . iii. 7, s. Or, like those of 
 whom it is thus written; ‘Report, say they , and 
 we will report it.’ j e . xx. 10 . And if he could get 
 any thing by the end that had scandal in it, if* it 
 did but touch professors, how falsely soever re¬ 
 ported, 0 ! then he would glory, laugh, and be 
 glad, and lay it upon the whole party; saying, Hang 
 them rogues, there is not a barrel better herring 
 of all the holy brotherhood of them. Like to like* 
 quoth the devil to the collier, this is your precise 
 
 ciew. And then he would send all home with a 
 curse. 
 
 Atten. If those that make profession of religion 
 be wise, Mr. Badman’s watchings and words will 
 make them the more wary, and careful in all things. 
 When the Wise. You say true. For when we 
 
 God’? people see men do watch for our halting, and 
 should be rejoice to see us stumble and fall, it 
 
 should make us so much abundantly 
 the more careful. 
 
 I do think it was as delightful to Mr. Badman 
 to hear, raise, and tell lies, and lying stories of 
 them that fear the Lord, as it was for him to go 
 to bed when a weary. But we will at this time let 
 these things pass. For as he was in these things 
 
 bad enough, so he added to these many more the 
 like. 
 
 He was an angry, wrathful, envious man, a 
 
 Badman an man t ^ la ^ knew not what meekness or 
 anpy, envious gentleness meant, nor did he desire to 
 
 learn. His natural temper was to be 
 surly, huffy, and rugged, and worse; and he so gave 
 way to his temper, as to this, that it brought him 
 to be furious and outrageous in all things, espe¬ 
 cially against goodness itself, and against other 
 things too, when he was displeased. 
 
 Atten. Solomon saith, He is a fool that rageth, 
 
 Pr. xiv. 16 . 
 
 Wise. He doth so ; and says moreover, that 
 ‘ Anger resteth in the bosom of fools. ’ Ec. vii. 9. 
 And, truly, if it be a sign of a fool to have an°’er 
 rest in his bosom, then was Mr. Badman, notwith¬ 
 standing the conceit that he had of his own abili¬ 
 ties, a fool of no small size. 
 
 Atten. Fools are mostly most wise in their, own 
 eyes. 
 
 ise. True; but I was a saying, that if it be a 
 sign that a man is a fool, when anger rests in his 
 bosom; then what is it a sign of, think you, when 
 malice and envy rests there ? For, to my know¬ 
 ledge Mr. Badman was as malicious and as envious 
 a man as commonly you can hear of. 
 
 Atten. Certainly, malice and envy flow from 
 pride and arrogancy, and they again from ignor¬ 
 
 ed 7 
 
 ance, and ignorance from the devil. And I 
 thought, that since you spake of the whence cnvv 
 pride of Mr. Badman before, we should flows. y 
 have something of these before we had done. 
 
 Wise. Envy flows from ignorance indeed. And 
 this Mr. Badman was so envious an one, where ho 
 set against, that he would swell with it as a toad, 
 as we say, swells with poison. 1 Ho Avhom he 
 maligned, might at any time even read envy in his 
 face wherever he met with him, or in whatever ho 
 had to do with him. His envy was so rank and 
 stiong, that if it at any time turned its head against 
 a man, it would hardly ever be pulled in again; 
 he would watch over that man to do him mischief, 
 as the cat watches over the mouse to destroy it; 
 yea, he would wait seven years, but he would have 
 an opportunity to hurt him, and when he had it, 
 he would make him feel the weight of his envy. 
 
 Envy is a devilish thing, the scripture intimates 
 that none can stand before it: ‘A stone is heavy, 
 and the sand weighty; but a fool’s wrath is heavier 
 than them both. Wrath is cruel, and anger is out¬ 
 rageous ; but who is able to stand before envy ?’ 
 
 Pr. xxvii. 3 , 4 . 
 
 This envy, for the foulness of it, is reckoned 
 among the foulest villainies that are, Envy tIie „. orst 
 as adultery, murder, drunkenness, of tlie four. 3 
 revellings, witchcrafts, heresies, seditions, &c. 
 Ga. v. 19, 20. Yea, it is so malignant a corruption, 
 that it rots the very bones of him in whom it 
 dwells. ‘ A sound heart is the life of the flesh; but 
 envy the rottenness of the bones. ’ p r . xiv. 30. 
 
 Atten. This envy is the very father and mother 
 of a great many hideous and prodi- Envy i 3 the fa- 
 gious wickednesses. I say, it is the ^ er ? nd m °- 
 
 „ . J . tner 01 a many 
 
 very tather and mother of them; it both wickednesses, 
 begets them, and also nourishes them up, till they 
 come to their cursed maturity in the bosom of him 
 that entertains them. 
 
 Wise. You have given it a very right descrip¬ 
 tion, in calling of it the father and mother of a 
 great many other prodigious wickednesses; for it 
 is so venomous and vile a thing that it puts the 
 whole course of nature out of order, and makes it 
 fit for nothing but confusion, and a hold for every 
 evil thing; ‘ For where envying and strife is, there 
 is confusion, and every evil work.’ j a . m. 16. Where¬ 
 fore, I say, you have rightly called it the very 
 father and mother of a great many other sins. 
 And now for our further edification, I will reckon 
 up of some of the births of envy. 1. Some o( the 
 Envy, as I told you before, it rotteth births of envy. 
 
 1 The general opinion, to a late period, was, that the frog 
 or toad was poisonous. Bartolomeus calls the trog ‘venomous/ 
 and that in proportion to the number of his spots. Bunyan, 
 who was lar in advance of his age, throws a doubt upon it, by 
 the words * as we say/— (Ed.) 
 
 Pride, Atheism, infidelity, and envy.— (Ed.) 
 
643 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. EADMAN. 
 
 the very bones of him that entertains it. And, | 
 2. As you have also hinted, it is heavier than a 
 stone, than sand; yea, and I will add, it falls like 
 a millstone upon the head. Therefore, 3. It kills 
 him that throws it, and him at whom it is thrown. 
 
 ‘ Envy slayeth the silly one.’ Job v. 2. That is, him 
 in whom it resides, and him who is its object. 
 4. It was that also that slew Jesus Christ himself ;* 
 for his adversaries persecuted him through their 
 envy. Mat. xxvii. is. Mar. xv. io. 5. Envy was that, by 
 virtue of which Joseph was sold by his brethren 
 into Egypt. Ac. vii. a 
 
 6 . It is envy that hath the hand in making of 
 variance among God’s saints, is. xi. 13 . 7 . It is 
 
 envy in the hearts of sinners, that stirs them up 
 to thrust God’s ministers out of their coasts. Ac. 
 xiii. 50 ; xiv. 6. 8. What shall I say? It is envy 
 
 that is the very nursery of whisperings, debates, 
 backbitings, slanders, reproaches, murders, &c. 
 
 It is not possible to repeat all the particular 
 fruits of this sinful root. Therefore, it is no mar¬ 
 vel that Mr. Badman was such an ill-natured man, 
 for the great roots of all manner of wickedness 
 were in him unmortified, unmanned, untouched. 
 
 Atten. But it is a rare case, even 
 A rare thing. ^ ]3 a( ] man , that he should 
 
 never in all his life be touched with remorse for 
 his ill-spent life. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 [ns gets drunk and breaks his leg—god’s 
 
 JUDGMENTS UPON DRUNKARDS.] 
 
 Wise. Remorse, I cannot say he ever had, if by 
 Mr.Badmanun- remorse you mean repentance for his 
 
 der some ev p s Yet twice I remember he was 
 trouble oi 
 
 mind. under some trouble of mind about his 
 
 condition. Once when he broke his leg as he came 
 home drunk from the ale-house; and another time 
 when he fell sick, and thought he should die. Be¬ 
 sides these two times, I do not remember any more. 
 
 Atten. Did he break his leg then ? 
 
 Wise. Yes; once as he came home drunk from 
 the ale-house. 
 
 Atten. Pray how did he break it ? 
 
 Wise. Why upon a time he was at an ale-house, 
 Mr. Badmau that wicked house about two or three 
 breaks his leg. m ji es f rom home, and having there 
 
 drank hard the greatest part of the day, when 
 night was come, he would stay no longer, but calls 
 for his horse, gets up and like a madman, as 
 drunken persons usually ride, away he goes, as 
 hard as horse could lay legs to the ground. * Thus 
 he rid, till coming to a dirty place, where his horse 
 flouncing in, fell, threw his master, and with his 
 fall broke his leg. So there he lay. But you 
 would not think how he swore at first. 
 But after a while, he coming to him¬ 
 
 self, and feeling by his pain, and the uselessness 
 of his leg, what case he was in, and also fearing 
 that this bout might be his death; he began to cry 
 out after the manner of such, Lord help me, Lord 
 have mercy upon me, good God de- ^ ^ 
 liver me, and the like. So there he 
 lay, till some came by, who took him up, carried 
 him home, where he lay for some time, before he 
 could go abroad again. 
 
 Atten. And then you say he called upon God. 
 
 Wise. He cried out in his pain, and would say, 
 
 0 God, and, 0 Lord, help me. But whether it was 
 that his sin might be pardoned, and his soul saved, 
 or whether to be rid of his pain, I will not posi¬ 
 tively determine; though I fear it was but for the 
 last; because when his pain was gone, It has u0 good 
 and he had got hopes of mending, even effect upon 
 before he could go abroad, he cast oil 
 prayer, and began his old game; to wit, to be as 
 bad as he was before. 1 He then would send for 
 his old companions ; his sluts also would come to 
 his house to see him, and with them he would be, 
 as well as he could for his lame leg, as vicious as 
 they could be for their hearts. 
 
 Atten. It was a wonder he did not break his 
 neck. 
 
 Wise. His neck had gone instead of his leg, but 
 that God was long-suffering towards him; he had 
 deserved it ten thousand times over. There have 
 been many, as I have heard, and as I have hinted 
 to you before, that have taken their horses when 
 drunk as he; but they have gone from the pot to 
 the grave; for they have broken their 
 necks betwixt the ale-house and home. 
 
 One hard by us also drunk himself dead; he drank, 
 and died in his drink. 
 
 Atten. It is a sad thing to die drunk. 
 
 Wise. So it is ; but yet I wonder that no more 
 
 do so. For considering the heinous- Howmanysins 
 
 ness of that sin, and with how many do accompauy 
 ... ... . . drunkenness. 
 
 other sms it is accompanied, as with 
 oaths, blasphemies, lies, revellings, whorings, 
 brawlings, Ac., it is a wonder to me that any that 
 live in that sin should escape such a blow from 
 Heaven, that should tumble them into their graves. 
 Besides, when I consider also how, when they are 
 as drunk as beasts, they, without all fear of dan¬ 
 ger, will ride like bedlams and madmen, even as 
 if they did dare God to meddle with them if he 
 durst, for their being drunk. I say, I wonder that 
 he doth not withdraw his protecting providences 
 from them, and leave them to those dangers and 
 destructions that by their sin they have deserved, 
 and that by their bedlam madness they would rush 
 
 1 Outward reformation without inward grace is like washing 
 a sow, which you may make clean, hut never can make cleanly ; 
 it will soon return to the mire, and delight in filth more than 
 ever.—(Mason.) 
 
 He swears. 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BaDMAN. 
 
 649 
 
 themselves into. Only I consider again, that he 
 has appointed a day wherein he will reckon with 
 them, and doth also commonly make examples of 
 some, to show that he takes notice of their sin, 
 abhors their way, and will count with them for it 
 at the set time. Ac. xvii. 30, 31. 
 
 Atte.w It is worthy of our remark, to take notice 
 how God, to show his dislike of the sins of men, 
 strikes some of them down with a blow; as the 
 breaking of Mr. Badman’s leg, for doubtless that 
 was a stroke from heaven. 
 
 ^ ise. It is worth our remark, indeed. It was 
 an open stroke, it fell upon him while he was in 
 the height of his sin; and it looks much like to 
 that in Job—‘ Therefore he knovveth their works, 
 and overturneth them in the nig’ht, so that they are 
 destroyed, lie striketh them as wicked men in 
 the open sight of others.’ Or, as the margin reads 
 it, in the place of beholders.’ Job xxxiv. 25, 26 . He 
 la} s them, with his stroke, in the place of beholders, 
 ihere was Mr. Badman laid; his stroke was taken 
 notice of by every one, his broken leg was at this 
 
 An open stroke, the . t0VVn talk * Mr * Lilian has 
 
 broken his leg, says one. How did he 
 break it ? says another. As lie came home drunk 
 from such an ale-house, said a third. A judgment 
 of God upon him, said a fourth. This his sin, his 
 shame, and punishment, are all made conspicuous 
 to all to at are about him. 1 will here tell you 
 another story or two. 
 
 I have read, in Mr. Clark’s Looking-glass for 
 p ar , e 4I Sinners , that upon a time a certain drunken 
 fellow boasted in his cups that there was 
 neither heaven nor hell; also he said he believed 
 that man had no soul, and that, for his own part, 
 he would sell his soul to any that would buy it. 
 Then did one of his companions buy it of him for 
 a cup of wine, and presently the devil, in man’s 
 shape, bought it of that man again at the same 
 price; and so, in the presence of them all, laid 
 hold on the soul-seller, and carried him away 
 through the air, so that he was never more heard 
 
 of. J 
 
 He tells us also, that there was one at Salisbury, 
 ra „ e 141 i n the midst of his health, drinking and 
 carousing in a tavern; and he drank a 
 health to the devil, saying that if the devil would 
 not come and pledge him, he would not believe 
 that there was either God or devil. Whereupon 
 his companions, stricken with fear, hastened out 
 of the room; and presently after, hearing a hide¬ 
 ous noise, and smelling a stinking savour, the 
 vintner ran up into the chamber; and coming in 
 he missed his guest, and found the window broken, 
 
 1 Mr. Clarke relates this singular story on the authority of 
 ‘ Disci de Temp.’ The writers iu the Middle Ages are lull of 
 such narrations; see especially the first English book of homilies 
 called The Festival. —(Ed.) 
 
 VOL. 11 L. 
 
 the iron bar in it bowed, and all bloody. Bat 
 the man was never heard of afterwards. 2 
 
 Again, he tells us of a bailiff of Hedley, who, 
 upon a Lord’s day, being drunk at Mel- 
 ford > S'°t upon his horse, to ride through Page 149 * 
 the streets, saying that his horse would carry him 
 to the devil. And presently his horse threw him 
 and broke his neck. These things are worse than 
 the breaking of Mr. Badman’s leg; and should be 
 a caution to all of his friends that are living, lest 
 they also fall by their sin into these sad judgments 
 
 . But, as I said, Mr. Badman quickly forgot all; 
 his conscience was choked before his leg was 
 healed. And, therefore, before he was weH°of the 
 fruit of one sin, he tempts God to send another 
 judgment to seize upon Tim. And so he did quickly 
 
 after. For not many months after his Mr . Badrnau 
 leg was well, he had a very dangerous faileu sick - 
 fit of sickness, insomuch that now he began to think 
 lie must die in very deed. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 [HIS PRETENDED REPENTINGS AND PROMISES OP RE- 
 PORM WiIEN DEATH GRIMLY STARES AT HIM.] 
 
 Aiten. V eil, and what did he think and do 
 then ? 
 
 Wise. He thought he must go to hell; this I 
 know, for he could not forbear but say ni3 conscience 
 so. io my best remembrance, he lay « wounded, 
 ciying out all one night for fear; and at times ho 
 would so tremble that be would make the very 
 bed shake under him. But 0! how Hecmthoutta 
 the thoughts of death, of hell-fire, and sickness, 
 of eteinal judgment, did then wrack his conscience, 
 h ear might be seen in his face, and in his tossings 
 to and fi o; it might also be heard in his words, 
 and be understood by his heavy groans. He would 
 often ciy, I am undone, I am undone; my vile life 
 has undone me! 
 
 Atien. 1 hen his former atheistical thoughts and 
 principles were too weak now to support him from 
 the fears of eternal damnation. 
 
 Wise. Ay! they were too weak indeed. They 
 may serve to stifle conscience, when a man is in 
 the midst of his prosperity; and to harden the 
 heart against all good counsel, when a man is left 
 of God, and given up to his reprobate mind. But, 
 alas, atheistical thoughts, notions, and TT . . , 
 
 • • . . , . His atheism w ill 
 
 opinions must shrink and melt away, not heij) lum 
 when God sends, yea, comes with sick- 1J v ’ 
 ness to visit the soul of such a sinner for his sin. 
 There was a man dwelt about twelve miles off from 
 us, that had so trained up himself in his atheistical 
 
 2 Clarke’s authority for this accouut is Beard’s Theatre of 
 God’s Judgments. —(Eo.J 
 
 83 
 
65 0 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 notions, that at last lie attempted to write a book 
 against Jesus Christ, and against the Divine au¬ 
 thority of the Scriptures. But I think it was not 
 printed. Well, after many days, God struck him 
 with sickness, whereof he died. So, being sick, 
 and musing upon his former doings, the book that 
 he had written came into his mind, and with it 
 such a sense of his evil in writing of it, that it tore 
 his conscience as a lion would tear a 
 
 A ClrCetdJ Hi 
 
 ample of God’s kid. He lay, therefore, upon his deatli- 
 atl ° er * bed in sad case, and much affliction of 
 
 conscience; some of my friends also went to see 
 him; and as they were in his chamber one day, 
 he hastily called for pen, ink, and paper; which 
 when it was given him, he took it and writ to this 
 purpose:—I, such a one, in such a town, must go 
 to hell-fire, for writing a book against 
 
 3^" Jesus Christ, and against the Holy 
 Scriptures. And would also have leaped out of 
 the window of his house, to have killed himself, 
 but was by them prevented of that; so he died m 
 his bed, such a death as it was. It will be well if 
 others take warning by him. 1 
 
 Atten. This is a remarkable story. 
 
 Wise. It is as true as remarkable. I had it 
 from them that I dare believe, who also themselves 
 were eye and ear witnesses; and also that catched 
 him in their arms, and saved him, when he would 
 have leaped out of his chamber window, to have 
 destroyed himself! 
 
 Atten. Well, you have told me what were Mr. 
 Badman’s thoughts now, being sick, of his con¬ 
 dition; pray tell me also what he then did when 
 he was sick? 
 
 Wise. Did! he did many things which, I am 
 sure, he never thought to have done ; and which, 
 to be sure, was not looked for of his wife and 
 wimt Mr. Bail- children. In this fit of sickness, his 
 when d he m S thoughts were quite altered about his 
 sick - wife; I say his thoughts, so far as 
 
 could be judged by his words and carriages to her. 
 For now she was his good wife, his godly wife, his 
 honest wife, his duck and dear, and all. Now he 
 told her that she had the best of it; she having a 
 good life to stand by her, while his debaucheries 
 and ungodly life did always stare him in the face. 
 Now he told her the counsel that she often gave 
 him was good; though he was so bad as not to 
 take it. 
 
 Now he would hear her talk to him, and he would 
 
 Great alteration ,ie sighing by her while she so did. 
 made in Mr. Now he would bid her pray for him, 
 
 that he might be delivered from hell. 
 He would also now consent that some of her good 
 ministers might come to him to comfort him; and 
 
 1 See the account of an Atheist in his pride in Pilgrim's 
 Progress and notes. Vol. iii., p. 152. 
 
 he would seem to show them kindness when they 
 came, for he would treat them kindly with words, 
 and hearken diligently to what they said ; only he 
 did not care that they should talk much of his ill- 
 spent life, because his conscience was clogged with 
 that already. He cared not now to see his old 
 companions, the thoughts of them were a torment 
 to him; and now he would speak kindly to that 
 child of his that took after its mother’s steps, 
 though he could not at all abide it before. 
 
 He also desired the prayers of good people, that 
 God of his mercy would spare him a little longer; 
 promising that if God would but let him recover 
 this once, what a new, what a penitent man he 
 would be toward God, and what a loving husband 
 he would be to his wife; what liberty he would 
 
 give her, yea, how he would go with her himself, v 
 to hear her ministers, and how they should go 
 hand in hand in the way to heaven together. 
 
 Atten. Here was a fine show of things; I’ll 
 warrant you, his wife was glad for this. 
 
 Wise. His wife! ay, and a many good people 
 besides. It was noised all over the The town-talk of 
 town what a great change there was Mr-^Badman’s 
 wrought upon Mr. Badman; how sorry 
 he was for his sins, how he began to love his wife, 
 how he desired good men should pray to God to 
 spare him; and what promises he now made to 
 God, in his sickness, that if ever he should raise 
 him from his sick bed to health again, what a new 
 penitent man he would be towards God, and what a 
 loving husband to his good wife. Well, ministers 
 prayed, and good people rejoiced, thinking verily 
 that they now had gotten a man from the devil; 
 nay, some of the weaker sort did not stick to say 
 that God had begun a work of grace in his heart; 
 and his wife, poor woman, you cannot His wife is com- 
 think how apt she was to believe it so; torted - 
 she rejoiced, and she hoped as she would have it. 
 But, alas! alas! in little time things all proved 
 otherwise. 
 
 After he had kept his bed a while, his distemper 
 be^an to abate, and he to feel himself Mr. Badman re- 
 
 , ° , . ..... . covers, and re¬ 
 
 better; so he m a little tune was so turns to his old 
 
 finely mended, that he could walk course * 
 
 about the house, and also obtained a very fine 
 
 stomach to his food; and now did his wife and her 
 
 good friends stand gaping to see Mr. Badman 
 
 fulfil his promise of becoming new towards God, 
 
 and loving to his wife; but the contrary only 
 
 showed itself. For, so soon as ever he had hopes 
 
 of mending, and found that his strength began to 
 
 renew, his trouble began to go off his heart, and 
 
 he grew as great a stranger to his frights and 
 
 fears, as if he never had them. 
 
651 
 
 the life and death of mil badman. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 [DEATH LEA\ ES HIM FOR a SEASON, AND IIE RETURN3 
 TO IIIS SIN LIKE A SOW THAT HAS BEEN WASHED 
 TO HER WALLOWING IN THE MIRE.] 
 
 But verily, I am apt to think, that one reason 
 of Ins no more regarding or remembering of his 
 sick-bed fears, and of being no better for them, was 
 some words that the doctor that supplied him with 
 physic said to him when he was mending. For 
 as soon as Mr. Badman began to mend, the doctor 
 comes and sits him down by him in his house, and 
 tncre fell into discourse with him about the nature 
 of his disease; and among other things they talked 
 of Badman s trouble, and how he would cry out, 
 tremble, and express his fears of going to hell when 
 his sickness lay pretty hard upon him. To which 
 
 the docfco . r re P lied » those fears 
 
 while they cure ail d outcries did arise from the height 
 of his distemper; for that disease was 
 
 i. ' -- v 0-0 
 
 often attended with lightness of the head, by reason 
 the sick party could not sleep, and for that the 
 vapours disturbed the brain : but you see, Sir, 
 quoth he, that so soon as you got sleep and betook 
 yourself to rest, you quickly mended, and your 
 head settled, and so those frenzies left you. And 
 it was so indeed, thought Mr. Badman; was my 
 troubles only the effects of my distemper, and be¬ 
 cause ill vapours got up into my brain? Then 
 surely, since my physician was my saviour, my 
 lust again shall be my god. So he never minded 
 religion more, but betook him again to the world, 
 his lusts and wicked companions: and there was 
 an end of Mr. Badman’s conversion. 
 
 Atten. I thought, as you told me of him, that 
 this would be the result of the whole; for I dis¬ 
 cerned, by your relating of things, that the true 
 symptoms of conversion were wanting in him, and 
 that those that appeared to be anything like them, 
 were only such as reprobates may have. 
 
 Wise. You say right, for there wanted in him, 
 when he was most sensible, a sense of the pollution 
 of his nature; he only had guilt for his sinful 
 actions, the which Cain, and Pharaoh, and Saul, 
 and Judas, those reprobates, have had before him. 
 
 Ge. iv. 13, 14. Ex. ix. 27. 1 Sa. xv. 24. Mat. xxvii. 3-5. 
 
 Besides, the great things that he desired, were 
 The true symp- to be delivered from going to hell, and 
 who would, willingly? and that his 
 
 mA'Si!? !* ™'S ht be lengthened in this world, 
 sin, and desires W e find not, by all that he said or did, 
 
 J _ that Jesus Christ the Saviour was de¬ 
 sk ed by him, from a sense of his need of his right¬ 
 eousness to clothe him, and of his Spirit to sanctify 
 him. Ilis own strength was whole in him, he saw 
 nothing of the treachery of his own heart: for had 
 lie, he would never have been so free to make 
 promises to God of amendment. He would rather 
 
 have been afraid, that if he had mended, he should 
 have turned with the dog to his vomit, and have 
 begged prayers of the saints, and assistance from 
 heaven upon that account, that he might have been 
 kept from doing so. It is true he did beg prayers 
 of good people, and so did Pharaoh of Moses and 
 Aaron, and Simon Magus of Simon Peter. Ex. ix. 28 . 
 Ac. vni. 24 . His mind also seemed to bo turned to 
 his wife and child ; but, alas! it was rather from 
 conviction that God had given him concerning 
 their happy estate over his, than for that he had any 
 true love to the work of God that was in them. True,, 
 some shows of kindness he seemed to have for 
 them, and so had rich Dives when in hell, to his 
 five brethren that were yet in the world: yea, he 
 had such love as to wish them in heaven, that they 
 might not come thither to be tormented. Lu. xvi. 27 , 2 s. 
 
 Atten. Sick-bed repentance is seldom good for 
 anything. 
 
 Wise, lou say true, it is very rarely good for 
 anything indeed. Death is unwelcome of sick-bcd re. 
 to nature, and usually when sickness ?w ta . nce i a ? d 
 
 l ±1 • . that it is to be 
 
 ancl death visit the sinner; the first suspected, 
 taking of him by the shoulder, and the second 
 standing at the bed-chamber door to receive him ; 
 then the sinner begins to look about him, and to 
 bethink with himself, these will have me away be¬ 
 fore God ; and I know that my life has not been 
 as it should, how shall I do to appear before God! 
 Or if it be more the sense of the punishment, and 
 the place of the punishment of sinners, that also is 
 starting to a defiled conscience, now roused by 
 death’s lumbering at the door. And hence usually 
 is sick-bed repentance, and the matter of it; to wit, 
 to be saved from hell, and from death, and that 
 God will restore again to health till they mend, 
 din_, that it is in their power to mend, as is 
 evident by their large and lavishing promises to do 
 it. I have known many that, when they have been 
 sick, have had large measures of this kind of re¬ 
 pentance, and while it has lasted, the noise and 
 sound thereof has made the town to ring again. 
 But, alas ! how long has it lasted? ofttimes scarce 
 so long as until the party now sick has been well. 
 
 It has passed away like a mist or a vapour, it has 
 been a thing of no continuance. But this kind of 
 repentance is by God compared to the howling of 
 a dog. ‘ And they have not cried unto me with 
 their heart, when they howled upon their beds.’ 
 
 IIo. vii. 14. 
 
 Atten. Yet one may see by this the desperate¬ 
 ness of man’s heart; for what is it but i ^ } 
 
 desperate wickedness to make promise desperateness' 
 to God of amendment, if he will but ° nuah ' s heart - 
 spare them; and yet, so soon as they are recovered, 
 or quickly after, fall to sin as they did before, and 
 never to regard their promise more. 
 
 Wise. It is a sign of desperateness indeed; yea. 
 
632 
 
 tite life and death of mr. badman. 
 
 of desperate madness. De. i. 34, 35. For, surely, 
 they must needs think that God took notice of 
 their promise, that he heard the words that they 
 spake, and that he hath laid them up against the 
 time to come; and v/ill then bring out, and testify 
 to their faces, that they flattered him with their 
 mouth, and lied unto him with their tongue, when 
 they lay sick, to their thinking, upon their death¬ 
 bed, and promised him that if he would recover 
 them they would repent and amend their ways. 
 Ps. lxxviii. S4-37. But thus, as I have told you, Mr. 
 Badman did. He made great promises that he 
 would he a new man, that he would leave his sins 
 and become a convert, that he would love, &c., 
 his godly wife, <fcc. Yea, many fine words had 
 Mr. Badman in his sickness, but no good actions 
 when he was well. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 [ills PIOUS WIFE DIES BROKEN-HEARTED.-nER 
 
 DEATII-BED CHARGE TO HER FAMILY.] 
 
 Atten. And how did his good wife take it, 
 when she saw that he had no amendment, but that 
 he returned with the dog to his vomit, to his old 
 courses again ? 
 
 Wise. Whv, it broke her heart, it was a worse 
 
 Air Brvimnn’s disappointment to her than the cheat 
 * wife’s heart is that lie gave her in marriage. At 
 biokcn. l eas t she laid it more to heart, and 
 could not so well grapple with it. You must think 
 that she had put up many a prayer to God for him 
 before, even all the time that he had carried it so 
 badly to her, and now, when he w r as so affrighted 
 in his sickness, and so desired that he might live 
 and mend; poor woman, she thought that the time 
 was come for God to answer her prayers; nay, she 
 did not let 1 with gladness, to whisper it out amongst 
 her friends, that it was so; but when she saw her¬ 
 self disappointed by her husband turning rebel 
 again, she could not stand up under it, but falls 
 into a languishing distemper, and in a few weeks 
 gave up the ghost. 
 
 Atten. Pray how did she die ? 
 
 Wise. Die ! she died bravely; full of comfort 
 of the faith of her interest in Christ, and by him, 
 of the world to come. She had many brave ex¬ 
 pressions in her sickness, and gave to those that 
 came to visit her many signs of her salvation ; the 
 thoughts of the grave, hut especially of her rising 
 again, were sweet thoughts to her. She would 
 long for death, because she knew it would be her 
 friend. She behaved herself like to some that were 
 making of them ready to go meet their bridegroom 
 
 Her Christian Now, said she, I am going to rest 
 speech. from my sorrows, my sighs, my tears, 
 
 1 To let, prevent, or hinder. See Isa. xliii. 13.— (Ed.) 
 
 my mournings, and complaints; I have heretofore 
 longed to be among the saints, but might by no 
 means be suffered to go, hut now I am going, and 
 no man can stop me, to the great meeting, ‘ to the 
 general assembly, and church of the firstborn which 
 are written in heaven.’ He. xii. 22-24. There I shall 
 have my heart’s desire; there I shall worship with¬ 
 out temptation or other impediment; Her talk to her 
 there I shall see the face of my Jesus, lrienda - 
 whom I have loved, whom I have served, and who 
 now I know will save my soul. I have prayed 
 often for my husband, that he might be converted, 
 but there has been no answer of God in that mat¬ 
 ter. Are my prayers lost ? are they forgotten ? 
 are they thrown over the bar? No; they are 
 hanged upon the horns of the golden altar, and I 
 must have the benefit of them myself, that moment 
 that I shall enter into the gates, in at which the 
 righteous nation that keepeth truth shall enter; I 
 say, I shall have the benefit of them. I. can say 
 as holy David ; I say, I can say of my husband, 
 as he could of his enemies: ‘ As for me, when they 
 were sick, my clothing was sackcloth; I humbled 
 my soul with fasting, and my prayer returned into 
 mine own bosom.’ rs. xxxv. 13 . My prayers are not 
 lost, my tears are yet in God’s bottle; I would 
 have had a crown, and glory for my husband, and 
 for those of my children that follow his steps; hut 
 so far as I can see yet, I must rest in the hope of 
 having all myself. 
 
 Atten. Did she talk thus openly ? 
 
 Wise. No; this she spake but to one or two of 
 her most intimate acquaintance, who were permit¬ 
 ted to come and see her, when she lay languishing 
 upon her death-bed. 
 
 Atten. Well, hut pray go on in your relation, 
 this is good; I am glad to hear it, this is as a cor¬ 
 dial to my heart while we sit thus talking under 
 this tree. 
 
 Wise. When she drew near her end, she called 
 for her husband, and when he was Her talk to her 
 come to her she told him that now Luslmud * 
 he and she must part, and, said she, God knows, 
 and thou slialt know, that I have been a loving, 
 faithful wife unto thee; my prayers have been many 
 for thee; and as for all the abuses that 1 have re¬ 
 ceived at thy hand, those I freely and heartily for¬ 
 give, and still shall pray for thy conversion, even as 
 lone as I breathe in this world. But husband, I am 
 eoino- thither, where no bad man shall come, and 
 if thou dost not convert, thou wilt never see me 
 more with comfort; let not my plain words offend 
 thee ; I am thy dying wife, and of my faithfulness 
 to thee, would leave this exhortation with thee; 
 break off thy sins, fly to God for mercy while 
 mercy’s gate stands open ; remember that the day 
 is coming, when thou, though now lusty and well, 
 must lie at the gates of death as I do; and what 
 
THE LTFE AND DEATH OF MS. BADMAN. 
 
 G53 
 
 wilt thou then do, if thou slialt be found with a 
 naked soul, to meet with the cherubims with their 
 flaming swords ? Yea, what wilt thou then do, if 
 death and hell shall come to visit thee, and thou 
 in thy sins, and under the curse of the law ? 
 
 Atten*. Tiiis was honest and plain; but what 
 said Mr. Badman to her? 
 
 Wise. lie did what he could to divert her talk, 
 He diverts her by throwing in other things ; he also 
 
 discourse. showed some kind of pity to her now, 
 
 and would ask her what she would have ? and with 
 various kind of words put her out of her talk; for 
 when she saw that she was not regarded, she fetched 
 a deep sigh, and lay still. So he went down, and 
 then she called for her children, and began to talk 
 
 Her speech to to them. And first she spake to those 
 her children that were rude, and told them the 
 
 _ rUtJe ' danger of dying before they had grace 
 in their hearts. She told them also that death 
 might be nearer them than they were aware of; 
 and bid them look when they went through the 
 churchyard again, if there were not little graves 
 there. And, ah children, said she, will it not be 
 dreadful to you if we only shall meet at the day 
 °f judgment, and then part again, and never see 
 each other more ? And with that she wept, the 
 children also wept: so she held on her discourse. 
 Children, said she, I am going from you; I am 
 going to Jesus Christ, and with him there is 
 neither sorrow, nor sighing, nor pain, nor tears, 
 nor death. He. vii. ig; xxi. s, 4. Thither would I have 
 you go also, but I can neither carry you nor fetch 
 you thither; but if you shall turn from your sins 
 to God, and shall beg mercy at his hands by Jesus 
 Christ, you shall follow me, and shall, when you 
 die, come to the place where I am going, that 
 blessed place of rest; and then we shall be for 
 ever together, beholding the face of our Redeemer, 
 to our mutual and eternal joy. So she bid them 
 remember the words of a dying mother when she 
 was cold in her grave, and themselves were hot in 
 their sins, if perhaps her words might put check 
 to their vice, and that they might remember and 
 turn to God. 
 
 Then they all went down but her darling, to 
 wit, the child that she had most love for, because 
 it followed her wavs. So she addressed herself to 
 Her speech to that. Come to me, said she, my sweet 
 her darling, child, thou art the child of my joy; 1 
 
 have lived to see thee a servant of God; thou slialt 
 have eternal life. I, my sweet heart, 1 shall go 
 before, and thou slialt follow after, if thou shalt 
 ‘ hold the beginning of thy confidence stedfast unto 
 the end.’ lie. iii 14 . When I am gone, do thou 
 
 1 Terms of endearment: thus Sliakspeare, in Henry IV., 
 p. 2, represents the hostess calling her maid, Doll Tear-sheet, 
 sweet-heart. It is uow more restricted to lovers while court¬ 
 ing—(E d.) 
 
 still remember my words. Love thy Bible, follow 
 my ministers, deny ungodliness still, and if trouble¬ 
 some times shall com?, set a higher price upon 
 Christ, his word, ana ways, and the testimony of 
 a good conscience, than upon all the >vorld be¬ 
 sides. 2 Carry it kindly and dutifully to thy father, 
 but choose none of his ways. If tliou mayest go 
 to service, choose that rather than to stay at home ; 
 but then be sure to choose a service where thou 
 mayest be helped forwards in the way to heaven ; 
 and that tliou mayest have such a service, speak 
 to my minister, lie will help thee, if possible, to 
 such a one. 
 
 I would have thee also, my dear child, to love 
 thy brothers and sisters, but learn none of their 
 naughty tricks. * Have no fellowship with tho 
 unfruitful works of darkness, but rather reprove 
 them . ’ Ep. v. 11. Thou hast grace, they have none; 
 do thou therefore beautify the way of salvation 
 before their eyes, by a godly life and conformable 
 conversation to the revealed will of God, that thy 
 brothers and sisters may see and be the more 
 pleased with the good ways of the Lord. If thou 
 slialt live to marry, take heed of being served as 
 I was; that is, of being beguiled with fair words 
 and the flatteries of a lying tongue. But first be 
 sure of godliness, yea, as sure as it is possible for 
 one to be in this world. Trust not thine own eves, 
 nor thine own judgment, I mean as to that per¬ 
 son’s godliness that tliou art invited to marry. 
 Ask counsel of good men, and do nothing therein, 
 if he lives, without my minister’s advice. I have 
 also myself desired him to look after thee. Thus 
 she talked to her children, and gave them counsel; 
 and after she had talked to this a little longer, she 
 kissed it, and bid it go down. 
 
 Well, in short, her time drew on, and the day 
 that she must die. So she died, with a 
 soul full of grace, a heart full of com- Lcr death ' 
 fort, and by her death ended a life full of trouble. 
 Iler husband made a funeral for her, perhaps be¬ 
 cause he was glad he was rid of her, but we will 
 leave that to he manifest at judgment. 
 
 Atten. This woman died well. And now we 
 are talking of the dying of Christians, I will tell 
 you a story of one that died some time sinco in 
 our town. The man was a godly old Puritan, for 
 so the godly were called in time past. This man, 
 after a long and godly life, fell sick, cf the sick¬ 
 ness whereof lie died. And as he lay drawing on, 
 the woman that looked to him thought she heard 
 music, and that the sweetest that ever she heard 
 
 2 Uncertain was the liberty occasionally enjoyed by our 
 pilgrim forefathers, who were always expecting ‘ troublesome 
 times/ We ought to be more thankful for the mercies we 
 enjoy ; and to pray that the state may soon equally recognize 
 and cherish every good subject, without reference to sect, or 
 authorizing persecution.—(E d.) 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 G54 
 
 in lier life, which also continued until he gave up 
 the ghost. Now when his soul departed from him 
 the music seemed to withdraw, and to go 
 further and further off from the house, 
 and so it went until the sound was quite gone out 
 of hearing. 
 
 Wise. What do you think that might he ? 
 Atten. For ought I know the melodious notes 
 of angels, that were sent of God to fetch him to 
 heaven. 
 
 Wise. I cannot say hut that God goes out of 
 his ordinary road with us poor mortals sometimes. 
 
 I cannot say this of this woman, hut yet she had 
 better music in her heart than sounded in this 
 woman’s ears. 
 
 Atten. I believe so; hut pray tell me, did any 
 of her other children hearken to her words, so as 
 to be bettered in their souls thereby ? 
 
 One of her chii- Wise. One of them did, and be- 
 by en he°r nV (iying came a vei T hopeful young man. But 
 words. for the rest I can say nothing. 
 
 Atten. And what did Badman do after his wife 
 was dead ? 
 
 Wise. Why, even as he did before; he scarce 
 mourned a fortnight for her, and his mourning 
 then was, I doubt, more in fashion than in heart. 
 
 Atten. Would he not sometimes talk of his wife 
 when she was dead ? 
 
 Wise. Yes, when the fit took him, and could 
 commend her too extremely, saying she was a 
 good, godly, virtuous woman. But this is not a 
 thins; to be wondered at. It is common with 
 wicked men to hate God’s servants while alive, 
 and to commend them when they are dead. So 
 served the Pharisees the prophets. Those of the 
 prophets that were dead they commended, and 
 those of them that were alive they condemned. 
 Mat. xxiii. 
 
 CHAPTER NYU. 
 
 [iie is tricked into a second marriage by a 
 
 WOMAN AS BAD AS HIMSELF.] 
 
 Atten. But did not Mr. Badman marry again 
 quickly ? 
 
 Wise. No, not a good while after; and when 
 he was asked the reason he would make this sliglity 
 Mr. Badman’s answer, Who would keep a cow of 
 base language, their own that can have a quart of 
 
 milk for a penny? Meaning, who would be at the 
 charge to have a wife that can have a whore when 
 
 o 
 
 he listeth ? So villainous, so abominable did he 
 continue after the death of his wife. Yet at last 
 there was one was too hard for him. For getting 
 lie marries of him to her upon a time, and making 
 im got tills'last °f bim sufficiently drunk, she was so 
 wife - cunning as to get a promise of mar 
 
 riage of him, and so held him to it, and forced 
 
 him to marry her. And she, as the saying is, was 
 as good as he at all his vile and rant- What she wnfcj 
 ing tricks. She had her companions tlie y 
 
 as well as he had his, and she would 
 meet them too at the tavern and ale-house more 
 commonly than he was aware of. To be plain, 
 she was a very whore, and had as great resort 
 came to her, where time and place was appointed, 
 as any of them all. Ay, and he smelt it too, but 
 could not tell how to help it. For if he began to 
 talk, she could lay in his dish the whores that she 
 knew he haunted, and she could fit him also with 
 cursing and swearing, for she would give him oath 
 for oath, and curse for curse. 
 
 Atten. What kind of oaths would she have ? 
 
 Wise. Why, damn her, and sink her, and the like. 
 Atten. These are provoking things. 
 
 Wise. So they are ; but God doth not altogether 
 let such things go unpunished in this life. Some¬ 
 thing of this I have showed you already, and will 
 here give you one or two instances more. 
 
 There lived, saith one, in the year 1551, in a 
 city of Savoy, a man who was a mon- ciark’s Looking- 
 strous curser and swearer, and though fflass> 13, loo ‘ 
 he was often admonished and blamed for it, yet 
 
 would he by no means mend his manners. At 
 length a great plague happening in the city, he 
 withdrew himself [with his wife and a kinswoman] 
 into a garden, where being again admonished to 
 give over his wickedness, he hardened liis heart 
 more, swearing, blaspheming God, and giving him¬ 
 self to the devil. And immediately the devil 
 snatched him up suddenly, his wife and kinswoman 
 looking on, and carried him quite away. The 
 magistrates, advertised hereof, went to the place 
 and examined the women, who justified the truth 
 of it. 
 
 Also at Oster, in the duchy of Magalapole, saith 
 Mr. Clark, a wicked woman used in her cursing to 
 give herself body and soul to the devil, and being 
 reproved for it, still continued the same; till, being 
 at a wedding-feast, the devil came in person, and 
 carried her up into the air, with most horrible 
 outcries and roarings; and in that sort carried her 
 round about the toivn, that the inhabitants were 
 ready to die for fear. And by and by he tore her 
 in four pieces, leaving her four quarters in four 
 several highways; and then brought her bowels to 
 the marriage-feast, and threw them upon the table 
 before the mayor of the town, saying, Behold these 
 dishes of meat belong to thee, whom the like de¬ 
 struction waiteth for if thou dost not amend thy 
 wicked life. 
 
 Atten. Though God forbears to deal thus with 
 all men that thus rend and tear his name, and that 
 immediate judgments do not overtake them, yet 
 he makes their lives by other judgments bitter to 
 them, docs he not ? 
 
655 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BAD MAX. 
 
 Wise. Yes, yes, and for proof, I need go no 
 farther than to this Badrnan and his wife; for 
 their railing, and cursing, and swearing ended not 
 in words. They would fight and fly at each 
 other, and that like cats and dogs. But it must 
 be looked upon as the hand and judgment of God 
 upon him for his villainy; he had an honest woman 
 before, but she would not serve his turn, and 
 therefore God took her away, and gave him one 
 as bad as himself. Thus that measure that he 
 meted to his first wife, this last did mete to him 
 again. And this is a punishment wherewith some¬ 
 times God will punish wicked men. So said Amos 
 to Amaziah, ‘ Thy wife shall be a harlot in the 
 city.’ Am. vii. 17. With this last wife Mr. Badrnan 
 lived a pretty while ; but, as I told you before, in a 
 most sad and hellish manner. And now he would 
 bewail his first wife’s death; not of love that he had 
 to her godliness, for that he could never abide, but 
 for that she used always to keep home, whereas 
 this would go abroad; his first wife was also 
 honest, and true to that relation, but this last was 
 a whore of her body. The first woman loved to 
 keep things together, but this last would whirl 
 them about as well as he. The first would be 
 silent when he chid, and would take it patiently 
 He is punished w ^en abused her; but this would 
 
 in liis Inch wifp ^__.1 r__ l l 1 n i i 
 
 notice of this alteration that Mr. Badrnan had 
 made ? 
 
 Wise. Yes; and many of his neighbours, yea, 
 many of those that were carnal said, It is a right¬ 
 eous judgment of God upon him for 
 
 i • i . . , , None did pity 
 
 Ins abusive carriage and language to him for his sor- 
 
 his other wife: for they were all con- upon'a^'a 
 
 vinced that she was a virtuous woman, ^ llsl l ' e ' vard - 
 
 and that he, vile wretch, had killed her, I will not 
 
 say with, but with the want of kindness. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 [iIE PARTS FROM HIS WIFE-DISEASES ATTACK TT F'ff 
 
 UNDER CAPTAIN CONSUMPTION, HE ROTS AWAY, AND 
 DIES IN SINFUL SECURITY.] 
 
 lorhibadcar- S ive him worti for word, blow for blow, 
 rmges towards curse for curse ; so that now Mr. Bad- 
 
 man had met with his match. God 
 had a mind to make him see the baseness of his 
 own life in the wickedness of his wife’s. But all 
 He is not at all would not do with Mr. Badrnan, he 
 would be Mr. Badrnan still. This 
 judgment did not work any reformation upon him, 
 no, not to God nor man. 
 
 Atten. I warrant you that Mr. Badrnan thought 
 when his wife was dead, that next time he would 
 match far better. 
 
 Wise. What he thought I cannot tell, but he 
 could not hope for it in this match. For here he 
 knew himself to be catched, he knew that he was 
 by this woman entangled, and would therefore have 
 gone back again, but could not. He knew her, I 
 say, to be a whore before, and therefore could not 
 promise himself a happy life with her. For he or 
 she that will not be true to their own soul, will 
 neither be true to husband nor wife. And he 
 knew that she was not true to her own soul, and 
 therefore could not expect she should be true to 
 him. But Solomon says, ‘ A w T hore is a dtep 
 ditch,’ and Mr. Badrnan found it true. For when 
 she had caught him in her pit, she would never 
 leave him till she had got him to promise her mar¬ 
 riage; and when she had taken him so far, she 
 forced him to marry indeed. And after that, they 
 lived that life that I have told you. 
 
 Atten. But did not the neighbours take 
 
 Atten. And how long, I pray, did they live thus 
 together. 
 
 Wise. Some fourteen or sixteen years, even 
 until, though she also brought some- Badman and 
 thing with her, they had sinned all Si*?™!! 
 away, and parted as poor as howlets. bowieta. 
 And, in reason, how could it be otherwise? he 
 would have his way, and she would have hers; he 
 among his companions, and she among hers; he 
 with his whores, and she with her rogues; and so 
 they brought their 1 noble to ninepence. 
 
 Atten. Pray of what disease did Mr. Badman 
 die, for now I perceive we are come up to his 
 death ? 
 
 Wise. I cannot so properly say that he died of 
 one disease, for there were many that Mr. Badman’s 
 had consented, and laid their heads diseases ai [ l f 
 together to bring him to his end. He which he died, 
 was dropsical, he was consumptive, he was sur¬ 
 feited, was gouty, and, as some say, he had a 
 tang of the pox in his bowels. Yet the captain of 
 all these men of death that came against him to 
 take him away, was the consumption, for it was 
 that that brought him down to the grave, 2 
 
 Atten. Although I will not say but the best 
 men may die of a consumption, a dropsy, or a 
 surfeit; yea, that these may meet upon a man to 
 end him; yet I will say again, that many times 
 these diseases come through man’s inordinate use 
 of things. Much drinking brings dropsies, con¬ 
 sumptions, surfeits, and many other diseases; and 
 I drubt that Mr. Badman’s death did come by his 
 abuse of himself in the use of lawful and unlawful 
 things. I ground this my sentence upon that re¬ 
 port of his life that you at large have given me. 
 Wise. I think verily that you need not call 
 
 1 The noble was a gold coin of Ileury VIII.; value six shil¬ 
 lings and eightpcnce.—(E d.) 
 
 ‘ Bunyan’s allegorical spirit appears in nearly all his writ¬ 
 ings. Diseases lay their heads together to bring Badman to 
 the grave, making Consumption their captain or leader of these 
 men of death.— (Ed.) 
 
656 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 back your sentence; for it is thought by many 
 that by his cups and his queans 1 be brought him¬ 
 self to this his destruction: he was not an old man 
 when he died, nor was he naturally very feeble, 
 but strong and of a healthy complexion. \et, as 
 I said, he moultered away, and went, when he set 
 agoing, rotten to his grave. And that which made 
 him stink when he was dead, 1 mean, that made 
 him stink in his name and fame, was, that he died 
 with a spice of the foul disease upon him. A man 
 whose life was full of sin, and whose death was 
 without repentance. 
 
 Atten. These were blemishes sufficient to make 
 him stink indeed. 
 
 Wise. They were so, and they did do it. No 
 man could speak well of him when he 
 
 Badman s name a T . ,, , -i 
 
 stinks when lie was gone. 11 is name rotteu above 
 lsdealL ground, as his carcase rotted under. 
 
 And this is according to the saying of the wise 
 man, ‘ The memory of the just is blessed, but the 
 name of the wicked shall rot.’ Fr. x. 7. 
 
 This text, in both the parts of it, was fulfilled 
 upon him and the ■woman that he married first. 
 For her name still did flourish, though she had 
 been dead almost seventeen years; but his began 
 to stink and rot before he had been buried seven¬ 
 teen days. 
 
 Atten. That man that dieth with a life full of 
 sin, and with a heart void of repentance, although 
 he should die of the most golden disease, if there 
 were any that might be so called, I will warrant him 
 his name shall stink, and that in heaven and earth. 
 
 Wise. You say true; and therefore doth the 
 name of Cain, Pharaoh, Saul, Judas, and the 
 Pharisees, though dead thousands of years ago, 
 stink as fresh in the nostrils of the world as if 
 they were but newly dead. 
 
 Atten. I do fully acquiesce with you in this. 
 
 That Mr. Bad- But, Sir, since you have charged him 
 man dies uu- jyj n g impenitent, pray let me 
 
 IS 
 
 penitent ... - — - 
 
 proved. see \ 10W y 0U will prove it; not that I 
 
 altogether doubt it, because you have affirmed it, 
 
 but yet I love to have proof for what men say in 
 
 such weighty matters. 
 
 Wise. When I said he died without repentance, 
 
 I meant so far as those that knew him could 
 judge, when they compared his life, the Word, and 
 his death together. 
 
 o 
 
 Atten. Well said, they went the right way to 
 find out whether he had, that is, did manifest that 
 he had repentance or no. Now then show me how 
 they did prove he had none. 
 
 Wise. So I will. And first, this was urged to 
 , ... . prove it. He had not in all the time 
 
 First proof that I . 
 
 he died im- of his sickness a sight and sense oi 
 
 pemtenc. s j lis> but was as secure, and as 
 
 See note on p. G29. 
 
 much at quiet, as if he had never sinned in all his 
 life. 
 
 Atten. I must needs confess that this is a sign 
 he had none. For how can a man repent of that 
 of which he hath neither sight nor sense? But it 
 is strange that he had neither sight nor sense oi 
 sin now, when he had such a sight and sense of 
 his evil before; I mean when he was sick before. 
 
 Wise. He was, as I said, as secure now as if 
 he had been as sinless as an angel; though all 
 men knew what a sinner he was, for he carried his 
 sins in his forehead. His debauched life was read 
 and known of all men ; but his repentance was 
 read and known of no man; for, as 1 said, he had 
 none. And for ought I know, the reason why he 
 had no sense of his sins now was, because he pro¬ 
 fited not by that sense that he had of them before. 
 He liked not to retain that knowledge of God then, 
 that caused his sins to come to remembrance. 
 Therefore God gave him up now to a reprobate 
 mind, to hardness and stupidity of spirit; and so 
 was that Scripture fulfilled upon him, ‘ lie hath 
 blinded their eyes.’ Is. vi. 10 . And that, ‘Let their 
 eyes be darkened that they may not see.’ Ro. xi. 10 . 
 0, for a man to live in sin, and to go out of the 
 world without repentance for it, is the saddest 
 judgment that can overtake a man. 
 
 Atten. But, Sir, although both you and I have 
 consented that without a sight and No scllse of gin( 
 sense of sin there can be no repent- p° m r ^ )entan<:6 
 ance, yet that is but our bare say so; 
 let us therefore now see if by the Scripture we can 
 make it good. 
 
 Wise. That is easily done. The three thousand 
 that were converted, Ac. ii., repented not till they 
 had sight and sense of their sins. Paul repented 
 not till he had sight and sense of his sins. Ac. ix. 
 The jailer repented not till he had sight and sense 
 of his sins ; nor could they, Ac. xvi. For oi what 
 should a man repent? The answer is, Of sin. 
 What is it to repent of sin? The answer is, To be 
 sorry for it, to turn from it. But how can a man 
 be sorry for it, that has neither sight nor sense of 
 it? Ps. xxxviii. is. David did not only commit sins, 
 but abode impenitent for them, until Nathan the 
 prophet was sent from God to give him a sight 
 and sense of them; and then, but not till then, he 
 indeed repented of them. 2 Sa. xii. Job, in order to 
 his repentance, cries unto God, * Show me where¬ 
 fore thou coutendest with me?’ Jobx. 2. And again, 
 ‘That which I see not teach thou me, I have borne 
 chastisement, I will not ofiend any more. Job 
 xxxiv. 32. That is, not in what I know, for I will 
 repent of it; nor yet in what I know not, when 
 thou slialt show me it. Also Ephraim’s repent¬ 
 ance was after he was turned to the sight and sense 
 of his sins, and after he was instructed about the 
 evil of them. Je. xxxi. is-2o. 
 
TIIE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 657 
 
 Atten. These are good testimonies of this truth, 
 and do, if matter of fact, with which Mr. Badman 
 is charged, be true, prove indeed that he did not 
 repent, but as he lived so he died in his sin. Job 
 xt. 11 . For without repentance a man is sure to 
 die in his sin; for they will lie down in the dust 
 with him, rise at the judgment with him, hang 
 about his neck like cords and chains when he 
 standeth at the bar of God’s tribunal. Pr. v. 22 . 
 And go with him, too, when he goes away from 
 the judgment-seat, with a * Depart from me, ye 
 cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil 
 and his angels.’ Mat. xxv. 41. And there shall fret 
 and gnaw his conscience, because they will be to 
 him a never-dying worm. Mar. ix. 44. is. lxvL 24. 
 
 Wise. You say well, and I will add a word or 
 Every sight and two more to what I have said. Re- 
 caunotproduce pentance, as it is not produced without 
 repentance. a s ight and sense of sin, so every sight 
 
 and sense of sin cannot produce it; I mean every 
 sight and sense of sin cannot produce that repent¬ 
 ance, that is repentance unto salvation; repentance 
 never to be repented of. For it is yet fresh be¬ 
 fore us, that Mr. Badman had a sight and sense 
 of sin, in that fit of sickness that he had before, 
 but it died without procuring any such godly fruit; 
 as was manifest by his so soon returning with the 
 dog to his vomit. Many people think also that 
 repentance stands in confession of sin only, but 
 they are very much mistaken; for repentance, as 
 was said before, is a being sorry for, and returning 
 from transgression to God by Jesus Christ. Now, 
 if this be true, that every sight and sense of sin 
 will not produce repentance, then repentance can¬ 
 not be produced there where there is no sight and 
 sense of sin. That every sight and sense of sin 
 will not produce repentance, to wit, the godly re¬ 
 pentance that we are speaking of, is manifest in 
 Cain, Pharaoh, Saul, and Judas, who all of them 
 had sense, great sense of sin, but none of them 
 repentance unto life. 
 
 Now I conclude that Mr. Badman did die im¬ 
 penitent, and so a death most miserable. 
 
 Atten. But pray now, before we conclude our 
 discourse of Mr. Badman, give me another proof 
 of his dying in his sins. 
 
 Wise. Another‘proof is this, he did not desire 
 
 Second proof ^ sight and sense of sins, that he 
 that he died might have repentance for them. Did 
 
 lnipemtent T ° 1 . . 
 
 1 say he did not desire it, I will add, 
 he greatly desired to remain in his security, and 
 that I shall prove by that which follows. First, 
 he could not endure that any man now should talk 
 to him of his sinful life, and yet that was the way 
 to beget a sight and sense of sin, and so of repent¬ 
 ance from it, in his soul. But I say he could not 
 endure such discourse. Those men that did offer to 
 talk unto him of his ill-spent life, they were as little 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 welcome to him, in the time of his last sickness, 
 as was Elijah when he went to meet with Ahab as 
 he went down to take possession of Naboth’s vine¬ 
 yard. ‘Hast thou found me,’ said Ahab, ‘0 
 mine enemy?’ 1 Ki. xxi. 17 - 21 . So would Mr. Bad¬ 
 man say in his heart to and of those that thus did 
 come to him, though indeed they came even of 
 love to convince him of his evil life, that ho might 
 have repented thereof and have obtained mercv. 
 
 Atten. Did good men then go to see him in his 
 last sickness ? 
 
 Wise. Yes. Those that were his first wife’s 
 acquaintance, they went to see him, and to talk 
 with him, and to him, if perhaps he might now, 
 at last, bethink himself and cry to God for mercy. 
 
 Atten. They did well to try now at last if they 
 could save his soul from hell. But pray how can 
 you tell that he did not care for the company of 
 such? 
 
 Wise. Because of the differing carriage that he 
 had for them from what he had when his old car¬ 
 nal companions came to see him. When his old 
 companions came to see him he would stir up him¬ 
 self as much as he could, both by words and looks, 
 to signify they were welcome to him; he would 
 also talk with them freely and look pleasantly upon 
 them, though the talk of such could be none 
 other but such as David said carnal men would 
 offer to him when they came to visit him in his 
 sickness. ‘ If he come to see me,’ says he, ‘ he 
 speaketh vanity, his heart gathereth iniquity to it¬ 
 self.’ Ps. xii. 6. But these kind of talks, I say, 
 Mr. Badman better brooked than he did the com¬ 
 pany of better men. 
 
 But I will more particularly give you a charac¬ 
 ter of his carriage to good men, and good talk, 
 when they came to see him. 1. When they were 
 come he would seem to fail in his spirits at the 
 sight of them. 2. He would not care to answer 
 them to any of those questions that 
 they would at times put to him, to feel to 
 
 what sense he had of sin, death, hell, t ^ y u “ h to 
 and judgment. But would either say ^ 
 
 nothing or answer them by way of 
 evasion, or else by telling of them he was so weak 
 and spent that he could not speak much. 3. He 
 would never show forwardness to speak to or talk 
 with them, but was glad when they held their 
 tongues. He would ask them no question about 
 his state and another world, or how he should 
 escape that damnation that he had deserved. 4. 
 He had got a haunt 1 at last to bid his wife and 
 keeper, when these good people attempted to come 
 to see him, to tell them that he was asleep, or in¬ 
 clining to sleep, or so weak for want thereof that 
 
 1 * Haunt,’ an Anglo-Norman word. Custom, practice ; more 
 commonly used as a verb, to haunt, or frequently visit.— (Ed.) 
 
 83 
 
658 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 lie could not abide any noise. And so tliey would 
 serve them time after time, till at last they were 
 discouraged from coming to see him any more. 
 5. He was so hardened now in this time of his 
 sickness, that he would talk, when his companions 
 came unto him, to the disparagement of those good 
 men, and of their good doctrine too, that of love 
 did come to see him, and that did labour to convert 
 him. 6. When these good men went away from 
 him he would never say, Pray, when will you be 
 pleased to come again, for I have a desire to more 
 of your company and to hear more of your good 
 instruction? No, not a word of that, but when 
 they were going would scarce bid them drink, 1 or 
 say, Thank you for your good company and good 
 instruction. 7- His talk in his sickness with his 
 companions would be of the world, as trades, 
 houses, lands, great men, great titles, great places, 
 outward prosperity or outward adversity, or some 
 such carnal thing. By all which I conclude that 
 he did not desire a sense and sight of his sin, that 
 he might repent and be saved. 
 
 Atten. It must needs be so as you say, if these 
 things be true that you have asserted of him. And 
 I do the rather believe them, because I think you 
 dare not tell a lie of the dead. 
 
 Wise. I was one of them that went to him and 
 that beheld his carriage and manner of way, and 
 this is a true relation of it that I have given you. 
 
 Atten. I am satisfied. But pray, if you can, 
 show me now, by the Word, what sentence of God 
 doth pass upon such men. 
 
 Wise. Why, the man that is thus averse to re¬ 
 pentance, that desires not to hear of his sins that 
 he might repent and be saved, is said to be a man 
 that saith unto God, ‘ Depart from me, for I desire 
 not the knowledge of thy ways. ’ Job xxi. h. He is 
 a man that says in his heart and with his actions, 
 
 * I have loved strangers (sins) and after them will 
 I go.’ Je. ii.25. He is a man that shuts his eyes, 
 stops his ears, and that turneth his spirit against 
 God. Zee. vii. 11, 12. Ac. xxviii. 26, 27. Yea, he is the 
 man that is at enmity with God, and that abhors 
 him with his soul. 
 
 Atten. What other sign can you give me that 
 Mr. Badman died without repentance ? 
 
 Wise. Why, he did never heartily cry to God 
 
 Third proof that f° r merc y the time of his affliction. 
 
 lie died impeni- True, when sinking fits, stitches, or 
 tent. . ° . 
 
 pains took hold upon him, then he 
 would say, as other carnal men used to do, Lord, 
 help me; Lord, strengthen me ; Lord, deliver me, 
 and the like. But to cry to God for mercy, that 
 lie did not, but lay, as I hinted before, as if he 
 never had sinned. 
 
 Atten. That is another bad sign indeed, for 
 crying to God for mercy is one of the first signs of 
 repentance. When Paul lay repenting of his sin 
 upon his bed, the Holy Ghost said of him, * Behold 
 le prayeth.’ Ac. ix. n. But he that hath not the 
 first signs of repentance, it is a sign he hath none 
 of the other, and so indeed none at all. I do not 
 say but there may be crying where there may be 
 no sign of repentance. ‘ They cried,’ says David, 
 
 ‘ unto the Lord, but he answered them notbut 
 that he would have done if their cry had been the 
 fruit of repentance. Ps. xviii. 41. But, I say, if men 
 may cry and yet have no repentance, be sure they 
 have none that cry not at all. It is said in Job, 
 
 ‘ they cry not when he bindeth them,’ Jobxxxvi. is ; 
 that is, because they have no repentance; no re¬ 
 pentance, no cries; false repentance, false cries; 
 true repentance, true cries. 
 
 Wise. I know that it is as possible for a man to 
 forbear crying that hath repentance, as it is for a 
 man to forbear groaning that feeleth deadly pain. 
 He that looketh into the book of Psalms, where 
 repentance is most lively set forth even in its true 
 and proper effects, shall their find that crying, 
 strong crying, hearty crying, great crying, and 
 incessant crying, hath been the fruits of repent¬ 
 ance ; but none of this had this Mr. Badman, there¬ 
 fore he died in his sins. 
 
 That crying is an inseparable effect of repent¬ 
 ance, is seen in these scriptures—‘ Have mercy 
 upon me, 0 God ; according unto the multitude of 
 thy tender mercies, blot out my transgressions.’ 
 Ps. li. l. * 0 Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger, 
 neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure. Have 
 mercy upon me, 0 Lord, for I am weak: 0 Lord, 
 heal me, for my bones are vexed. My soul is also 
 sore vexed, but thou, 0 Lord, how long? Return, 
 0 Lord, deliver my soul: 0 save me for thy mercies’ 
 sake.’ Ps. vi. 1 - 4 . ‘ 0 Lord, rebuke me not in thy 
 
 wrath, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure* 
 for thine arrows stick fast in me, and thy hand 
 presseth me sore. There is no soundness in rny 
 flesh because of thine anger, neither is there any 
 rest in my bones, because of my sin. For mine 
 iniquities are gone over mine head; as a heavy 
 burden they are too heavy for me. My wounds 
 stink and are corrupt, because 'of my foolishness. 
 I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly, I go 
 mourning all the day long. My loins are filled 
 with a loathsome disease, and there is no soundness 
 in my flesh. I am feeble and sore broken ; I have 
 roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.’ 
 
 Ps. xxxviii. 1—S. 
 
 I might give you a great number more of the 
 holy sayings of good men whereby they express 
 how they were, what they felt, and whether they 
 cried or no when repentance was wrought in them. 
 Alas, alas, it is as possible for a man, when the 
 
 1 An old tippling custom, more honoured in the breach than 
 in the observance.—(E d.) 
 
659 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 pangs of guilt are upon him, to forbear praying, 
 as it is for a womafi, when pangs of travail are 
 upon her, to forbear crying. If all the world 
 should tell me that such a man hath repentance, 
 yet if he is not a praying man I should not be 
 persuaded to believe it. 
 
 Atten. I know no reason why you should, for 
 there is nothing can demonstrate that such a man 
 hath it. But pray, Sir, what other sign have you 
 bj, which you can prove that Mr. Badman died in 
 his sins, and so in a state of damnation? 
 
 M ise. I have this to prove it. Those who were 
 Fourth proof that an( I sinful companions in the 
 
 e n e t die<i time of his health, were those whose 
 
 company and carnal talk he most 
 delighted in in the time of his sickness. I did 
 occasionally hint this before, but now I make it an 
 argument of his want of grace, for wFere there is 
 indeed a work of grace in the heart, that work 
 doth not only change the heart, thoughts, and 
 desires, but the conversation also; yea, conversa¬ 
 tion aud company too. When Paul had a work 
 of giace in his soul he essayed to join himself to 
 the disciples. He was for his old companions in 
 their abominations no longer. He was now a dis¬ 
 ciple, and was for the company of disciples. ‘ And 
 he was with them coming in and going out at 
 Jerusalem.’ Ac. ix. 27, 28. 
 
 Atten. I thought something when I heard you 
 make mention of it before. Thought I, this is a 
 shrewd sign that he had not grace in his heart. 
 Biids of a feather, thought I, will flock together. 
 If this man was one of God’s children he would 
 herd with God s children, his delight would be with 
 and in the company of God’s children. As David 
 said, ‘ I am a companion of all them that fear thee, 
 and of them that keep thy precepts. ’ p s . cxix. 63 . 
 
 Wise. You say well, for what fellowship hath 
 he that believeth with an infidel? And although 
 it be ti ue that all that join to the godly are not 
 godly, yet they that shall inwardly choose the com¬ 
 pany of the ungodly and open profane, rather than 
 the company of the godly, as Mr. Badman did, 
 surely are not godly men, but profane. He was, 
 as I told you, out of his element when good men 
 did come to visit him; but then he was where he 
 would be, when he had his vain companions about 
 him. Alas! grace, as I said, altereth all, heart, 
 life, company, and all; for by it the heart and man 
 is made new. And a new heart and a new man 
 must have objects of delight that are new, and like 
 himself; ‘Old things are passed away;’ why? For 
 ‘all things are become new.’ 2 Co. v. 27. Now, if all 
 things are become new, to wit, heart, mind, thoughts, 
 desires, and delights, it followeth by consequence 
 that the company must be answerable; hence it is 
 said, that they ‘that believed were together;’ that 
 ‘ they went to their own company;’ that they were 
 
 ‘ added to the church;’ that they ‘were of one heart 
 and of one soul;’ and the like. Ac. ii. 44 - 47 ; iv. 23 32 
 Now if it be objected that Mr. Badman was sick, 
 and so could not go to the godly, yet he had a 
 tongue in his head, and could, had he had a heart, 
 have spoken to some to call or send for the godly to 
 come to him. Yea, he would have done so; yea, 
 the company of all others, especially his fellow- 
 sinners, would, even in every appearance of them 
 before him, have been a burden and a grief unto 
 him. His heart and affection standing bent to 
 good, good companions would have suited him best. 
 But his companions were his old associates, his 
 delight was in them, therefore his heart and soul 
 were yet ungodly. 
 
 Atien. Pray, how was he when he drew near 
 his end ; for, I perceive, that what you say of him 
 now hath reference to him and to his actions at the 
 beginning of his sickness? Then he could endure 
 company and much talk; besides, perhaps then he 
 thought he should recover and not die, as after- 
 waids he had cause to think, when he was quite 
 wasted with pining sickness, when he was at the 
 giave s mouth. But how was he, I say, when he 
 was, as we say, at the grave’s mouth, within a 
 step of death, when he saw and knew, and could 
 not but know, that shortly he must die, and appear 
 before the judgment of God? 
 
 Wise. Why, there was not any other alteration 
 in him than what was made by his 
 disease upon his body. Sickness, you ^an was when 
 know, will alter the body, also pains uear Ms end - 
 and stitches will make men groan ; but for his 
 mind he had no alteration there. His mind was 
 the same, his heart was the same. He was the 
 self-same Mr. Badman still. Not only in name 
 but conditions, and that to the very day of his 
 death ; yea, so far as could be gathered to the very 
 moment in which he died. 
 
 Atten. Pray, how was he in his death ? Was 
 
 death strong upon him ? or did he die with ease, 
 quietly ? 
 
 Wise. As quietly as a lamb. There seemed not 
 to be m it, to standers by, so much He died ^ a 
 as a strong struggle of nature. And lamb - 
 aa for his mind, it seemed to be wholly at quiet. 
 But, pray, why do you ask me this question? 
 
 Atten. Not for mine own sake, but for others. 
 For there is such an opinion as this T he opinion of 
 among the ignorant,that if a man dies, tbe ignorant 
 as they call it, like a lamb, that is, ner of dying, 
 quietly, and without that consternation of mind 
 that others show in their death, they conclude, 
 and that beyond all doubt, that such a one is gone 
 to heaven, and is certainly escaped the wrath to 
 come. 
 
600 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 [future happiness not to be hoped from a quiet 
 
 HARDENED DEATH.] 
 
 Wise. There is no judgment to be made by a 
 quiet death, of the eternal state of him that so 
 dieth. Suppose that one man should die quietly, 
 another should die suddenly, and a third should 
 How we must die under great consternation of spirit, 
 judge whether n0 rnan can i uc |o’e of their eternal con- 
 
 or no. dition by the manner of any ot these 
 
 kinds of deaths. He that dies quietly, suddenly, 
 or under consternation of spirit, may go to heaven, 
 or may go to hell ; no man can tell whether a man 
 goes, by any such manner of death. The judg¬ 
 ment, therefore, that we make of the eternal con¬ 
 dition of a man must be gathered from another 
 consideration, to wit, Did the man die in his sins ? 
 did he die in unbelief ? did he die before he was 
 born again? then he has gone to the devil and hell, 
 though he died never so quietly. Again, Was the 
 man a good man? had he faith and holiness? was 
 he a lover and a worshipper of God by Christ, 
 according to his Word? Then he is gone to God 
 and heaven, how suddenly, or in what consternation 
 of mind soever he died. But Mr. Badman was 
 naught, his life was evil, his ways were evil, evil 
 to his end. He therefore went to hell and to the 
 devil, how quietly soever he died. 
 
 Indeed there is, in some cases, a judgment to 
 be made of a man’s eternal condition by the man¬ 
 ner of the death he dieth. As, suppose now a man 
 should murder himself, or live a wicked life, and 
 ™ after that die in utter despair ; these 
 
 judgeofaman’s men, without doubt, do both of them 
 
 eternal state . . t * 11.1 
 
 by the manner go to hell. And here 1 will take an 
 ot his death. occasion to speak of two of Mr. Bad- 
 
 man’s brethren, for you know I told you before 
 that he had brethren, and of the manner of their 
 death. One of them killed himself, and the other, 
 after a wicked life, died in utter despair. Now, I 
 should not be afraid to conclude of both these, that 
 they went by and through their death to hell. 
 
 Atten. Pray tell me concerning the first, how 
 he made away with himself? 
 
 Wise. Why, he took a knife and cut his own 
 throat, and immediately gave up the ghost and 
 died. Now, what can we judge of such a man’s 
 condition, since the Scripture saith, ‘No murderer 
 hath eternal life,’ &e., but that it must be con¬ 
 cluded that such a one is gone to hell. He was a 
 murderer, a self-murderer; and he is the worst 
 murderer, one that slays his own body and soul. 1 
 
 1 The dialogues between Hopeful and Christian in Doubting 
 Castle admirably prove the wickedness of suicide. The unlet¬ 
 tered tinker triumphs over all the subtleties of the Dean of St. 
 Paul’s. See Pilgrim's Progress , p. 140, and notes, compared 
 with the introduction, p. 74 .—(Ed.) 
 
 Nor do we find mention made of any but cursed 
 ones that do such kind of deeds. I say, no men¬ 
 tion made in Holy Writ of any others, but such 
 that murder themselves. 
 
 And this is a sore judgment of God upon men, 
 when txod shall, for the sins of such, give them up 
 to be their own executioners, or rather to execute 
 his judgment and anger upon themselves. And 
 let me earnestly give this caution to sinners. Take 
 heed, Sirs, break off your sins, lest God serves you 
 as he served Mr. Badman’s brother ; that is, lest 
 he gives you up to be your own murderers. 
 
 Atten. Now you talk of this; I did once know 
 a man, a barber, that took his own 
 razor and cut his own throat, and then 
 put his head out of his chamber window, to show 
 the neighbours what he had done, and after a little 
 while died. 
 
 Wise. I can tell you a more dreadful thing than 
 this ; I mean as to the manner of doing 
 the fact. There was, about twelve years 
 since, a man that lived at Brafield, by Northampton, 
 named John Cox, that murdered him- The story of 
 self; the manner of his doing of it was John Cox * 
 thus. He was a poor man, and had for some time 
 been sick, and the time of his sickness was about 
 the beginning of hay-time, and taking too many 
 thoughts how he should live afterwards, if he lost 
 his present season of work, he fell into deep despair 
 about the world, and cried out to his wife the morn¬ 
 ing before he killed himself, saying, We are un¬ 
 done. But quickly after, he desired his wife to 
 depart the room, because, said he, I will see if I 
 can get any rest; so she went out; but he, instead 
 of sleeping, quickly took his razor, and therewith 
 cut up a great hole in his side, out of which he 
 pulled and cut off some of his guts, and threw them, 
 with the blood, up and down the chamber. But 
 this not speeding of him so soon as he desired, he 
 took the same razor and therewith cut his own 
 throat. His wife, then hearing of him sigh and 
 fetch his wind short, came again into the room to 
 him, and seeing what he had done, she ran out and 
 called in some neighbours, who came to him where 
 he lay in a bloody manner, frightful to behold. 
 Then said one of them to him, Ah! John, what 
 have you done? Are you not sorry for what you 
 have done ? He answered roughly, It is too late to 
 be sorry. Then, said the same person to him again, 
 Ah! John, pray to God to forgive thee this bloody 
 act of thine. At the hearing of which exhortation 
 he seemed much offended, and in an angry manner 
 said, Pray! and with that flung himself away to 
 the wall, and so, after a few gasps, died desperately. 
 When he had turned him of his back to the wall, 
 the blood ran out of his belly as out of a bowl, and 
 soaked quite through the bed to the boards, and 
 through the chinks of the boards it ran pouring 
 
661 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 (loun to toe ground. Some said that when the 
 neighbours came to see him, he lay groping with 
 his hand in his bowels, reaching upward, as was 
 thought, that he might have pulled or cut out his 
 heart. It was said, also, that some of his liver 
 had been by him torn out and cast upon the boards, 
 and that many of his guts hung out of the bed on 
 the side thereof; but I cannot confirm all particu¬ 
 lars ; but the general of the story, with these cir¬ 
 cumstances above mentioned, is true. I had it 
 from a sober and credible person, who himself was 
 one that saw him in this bloody state, and that 
 talked with him, as was hinted before. 
 
 Many other such dreadful things might be told 
 \ou, out these are enough, and too many too, if 
 God, in his wisdom, had thought necessary to pre¬ 
 vent them. 
 
 Atten. This is a dreadful story. And I would 
 to God that it might be a warning to others, to 
 instruct them to fear before God, and pray, lest he 
 gives them up to do as John Cox hath done. For 
 surely self-murderers cannot go to heaven; and, 
 therefore, as you have said, he that dieth by his 
 own hands, is certainly gone to hell. But speak 
 a word or two of the other man you mentioned. 
 
 M ise \\ hat ? of a wicked man dying in despair ? 
 
 Atten. les, of a wicked man dying in despair. 
 
 Wise. Well then. This Mr. Badman’s other 
 Of dyin» in de- brother was a very wicked man, both 
 sspam j n heart and life; I say in heart, be¬ 
 cause he was so in life, nor could anything reclaim 
 him; neither good men, good books, good examples, 
 nor God’s judgments. Well, after he had lived a 
 great while in his sins, God smote him with a sick¬ 
 ness, of which he died. Now in his sickness his 
 conscience began to be awakened, and he began to 
 roar out of his ill-spent life, insomuch that the 
 town began to ring of him. Now, when it was 
 noised about, many of the neighbours came to see 
 him, and to read by him, as is the common way 
 with some; but all that they could do, could not 
 abate his terror, but he would lie in his bed gnash- 
 * n S’ his teeth, and wringing of his 
 wrists, concluding upon the damnation 
 of his soul, and in that horror and despair he died; 
 not calling upon God, but distrusting in his mercy, 
 and blaspheming of his name. 
 
 Atten. This brings to my mind a man that a 
 friend ot mine told me of. He had been a wicked 
 liver; so when be came to die, he fell into despair; 
 
 an( l having concluded that God had 
 no mercy for him, he addressed him¬ 
 self to the devil for favour, saying, Good devil, be 
 good unto me. 
 
 W ise. This is almost like Saul, who beino- for- 
 saken of God, went to the witch of Endor, and so 
 to the devil for help, l s& xxviii. But, alas, should 
 1 set myself to collect these dreadful stories, it 
 
 would be easy in little time to present you with 
 hundreds of them. But I will conclude as I be¬ 
 gan ; they that are their own murderers, or that 
 die in despair, after they have lived a life of 
 wickedness, do surely go to hell. And here I 
 would put in a caution. Every one that dieth 
 under consternation of spirit; that is, under amaze¬ 
 ment and great fear, do not therefore die in de¬ 
 spair. For a good man may have this for his 
 bands in his death, and yet go to heaven and glory. 
 Ps. ixxiii. 4 . For, as I said before, he that is a good 
 man, a man that hath faith and holiness, a lover 
 and worshipper of God by Christ, according to his 
 Word, may die in consternation of spirit; for Satan 
 will not be wanting to assault good men upon their 
 deathbed, but they are secured by the Word and 
 power of God; yea, and are also helped, though 
 with much agony of spirit, to exercise themselves 
 in faith and prayer, the which he that dieth in 
 despair can by no means do. But let us return to 
 Mr. Badman, and enter further discourse of the 
 manner of his death. 
 
 Atten. I think you and I are both of a mind; 
 for just now I was thinking to call you back to 
 him also. And pray now, since it is your own 
 motion to return again to him, let us discourse a 
 little more of his quiet and still death. Further dis- 
 
 Wise. With all my heart. You ^Badman’^' 
 know we were speaking before of the death - 
 manner of Mr. Badman’s death; how that he died 
 still and quietly; upon which you made observa¬ 
 tion that the common people conclude, that if a 
 man dies quietly, and as they call it, like a lamb, 
 he is certainly gone to heaven; when, alas, if a 
 wicked man dies quietly, if a man that has all his 
 days lived in notorious sin, dieth quietly; his quiet 
 dying is so far off from being a sign of his being 
 saved, that it is an uncontrollable proof of his 
 damnation. This was Mr. Badman’s case, he lived 
 wickedly even to the last, and then went quietly 
 out of the world; therefore Mr. Badman is gone 
 to hell. 
 
 Atten. Well, but since you are upon it, and 
 also so confident in it, to wit, that a man that lives 
 a wicked life till he dies, and then dies quietly, is 
 gone to hell; let me see what show of proof you 
 have for this your opinion. 
 
 Wise. My first argument is drawn from the 
 
 necessity of repentance. No man can He that after a 
 
 be saved except he repents, nor can siufu , 1 lite ^ 
 
 , , , . quietly, that is, 
 
 he repent that sees not, that knows without re- 
 
 not that he is a sinner; and he that to'hX^Trst 
 
 knows himself to be a sinner will, I i jr ° o1, 
 
 will warrant him, be molested for the time by that 
 
 knowledge. This, as it is testified by all the 
 
 Scriptures, so it is testified by Christian experience. 
 
 He that knows himself to be a sinner is molested, 
 
 especially if that knowledge comes not to him until 
 
662 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 lie is cast upon liis deathbed; molested, I say, 
 before he can die quietly. Yea, he is molested, 
 dejected, and cast down, he is also made to cry 
 out, to hunger and thirst after mercy by Christ, 
 and if at all he shall indeed come to die quietly, I 
 mean with that quietness that is begotten by faith 
 and hope in God’s mercy, to the which Mr. Bad- 
 man and his brethren were utter strangers, his 
 quietness is distinguished by all judicious observers 
 by what went before it, by what it flows from, and 
 also by what is the fruit thereof. 
 
 I must confess I am no admirer of sick-bed re- 
 Sick-bed re- pentance, for I think verily it is sel- 
 
 5om l “oo<i t dom g°° d for an y thin s- But 1 sa y- 
 
 anything. h e that hath lived in sin and profane¬ 
 ness all his days, as Mr. Badman did, and yet 
 shall die quietly, that is, without repentance steps 
 in betwixt his life and death, he is assuredly gone 
 to hell, and is damned. 
 
 Atten. This does look like an argument indeed; 
 for repentance must come, or else we must go to 
 hell-fire; and if a lewd liver shall, I mean that so 
 continues till the day of his death, yet go out of 
 the world quietly, it is a sign that he died without 
 repentance, and so a sign that he is damned. 
 
 Wise. I am satisfied in it, for my part, and that 
 from the necessity and nature of repentance. It 
 is necessary, because God calls for it, and will not 
 pardon sin without it. ‘ Except ye repent, ye shall 
 all likewise perish ?’ Lu. xiii. 1-7. This is that which 
 God hath said, and he will prove but a fool-hardy 
 man that shall yet think to go to heaven and glory 
 without it. Repent, for * the axe is laid unto the 
 root of the trees, therefore every tree which bring- 
 eth not forth good fruit,’ but no good fruit can be 
 where there is not sound repentance, shall be 
 ‘hewn down, and cast into the fire.’ Mat. m. 10. 
 This was Mr. Badman’s case, he had attending of 
 him a sinful life, and that to the very last, and yet 
 died quietly, that is, without repentance; he is 
 gone to hell and is damned. For the nature of 
 repentance, I have touched upon that already, and 
 showed that it never was where a quiet death is 
 the immediate companion of a sinful life; and 
 therefore Mr. Badman is gone to hell. 
 
 Secondly. My second argument is drawn from 
 
 that blessed word of Christ, While the 
 
 Second proof. . j t . i 1 
 
 strong man armed keeps the house, 
 ‘ his goods are in peace,’ till a stronger than he 
 comes. Lu. xi. 21. But the strong man armed kept 
 Mr. Badman’s house, that is, his heart, and soul, 
 and body, for he went from a sinful life quietly out 
 of this world. The stronger did not disturb by 
 intercepting with sound repentance betwixt his 
 sinful life and his quiet death. Therefore Mr. 
 Badman is gone to hell. 
 
 The strong man armed is the devil, and quiet¬ 
 ness is his security. The devil never fears losing 
 
 Peace in a sinful 
 state is a sign 
 of damnation. 
 
 Third proof. 
 
 of the sinner, if he can but keep him quiet. Can 
 he but keep him quiet in a sinful life, and quiet in 
 his death, he is his own. Therefore he saith, ‘ his 
 goods are in peace;’ that is, out of danger. 
 There is no fear of the devil’s losing such a soul, 
 
 I say, because Christ, who is the best judge in 
 this matter, saith, ‘his goods are in peace,’ in 
 quiet, and out of danger. 
 
 Atten. This is a good one too; for, doubtless, 
 peace and quiet with sin is one of 
 the greatest signs of a damnable 
 state. 
 
 Wise. So it is. Therefore, when God would 
 show the greatness of his anger against sin and 
 sinners in one word, he saith, They are ‘joined to 
 idols; let them alone.’ Ho. iv. 17. Let them alone, 
 that is, disturb them not; let them go on without 
 control; let the devil enjoy them peaceably, let 
 him carry them out of the world unconverted 
 quietly. This is one of the sorest of judgments, 
 and bespeaketh the burning anger of God against 
 sinful men. See also when you come home, the 
 fourteenth verse of the fourth chapter of Hosea, 
 * I will not punish your daughters when they com¬ 
 mit whoredom.’ I will let them alone, they shall 
 live and die in their sins. But, 
 
 Thirdly. My third argument is drawn from that 
 saying of Christ, ‘ He hath blinded 
 their eyes, and hardened their heart; 
 that they should not see with their eyes, nor un¬ 
 derstand with their heart, and be converted, and I 
 should heal them.’ Jn. xii. 40. There are three 
 things that I w T ill take notice of from these 
 words. 
 
 1. The first is, that there can be no conversion 
 to God where the eye is darkened, and 
 the heart hardened. The eye must- 
 first be made to see, and the heart to break and 
 relent under and for sin, or else there can be no 
 conversion. ‘ He hath blinded their eyes, and 
 hardened their heart, lest they should see, and 
 understand and’ so ‘ be converted.’ And this was 
 clearly Mr. Badman’s case; he lived a wicked life, 
 and also died with his eyes shut, and heart hard¬ 
 ened, as is manifest, in that a sinful life was joined 
 with a quiet death; and all for that he should not 
 be converted, but partake of the fruit of his sinful 
 life in hell-fire. 
 
 2. The second thing that I take notice of from 
 these words is, that this is a dispensa¬ 
 tion and manifestation of God’s anger 
 against a man for his sin. When God is angry 
 with men, I mean, when he is so angry with them, 
 this among many is one of the judgments that he 
 giveth them up unto, to wit, to blindness of mind, 
 and hardness of heart, which he also suffereth to 
 accompany them till they enter in at the gates of 
 death. And then, and there, and not short of 
 
 First proof. 
 
 Second proof 
 
663 
 
 the life and death of mr. badman. 
 
 .lieu and there, their eyes come to bo opened. 1 * 
 lienee it is said of the rich man mentioned in 
 Luke » ‘ He died, and in hell lie lifted up his eyes ’ 
 Lu. xvi .22 Implying that he did not lift them up 
 before; he neither saw what he had done, nor 
 whither he was going, till lie came to the place of 
 execution, even into hell. He died asleep in his 
 soul; he died besotted, stupified, and so conse- 
 quently for quietness like a child or lamb, even as 
 Mr. Badman did. This was a sign of God’s anger; 
 
 , e iaJ a mind t0 him for his sins, and 
 
 therefore would not let him see nor have a heart 
 to repent for them, lest he should convert; and his 
 damnation, which God had appointed, should be 
 
 frustrate. 4 Lest they should be converted, and I 
 should heal them.’ 
 
 3. The third thing I take notice of from hence 
 
 Third proof * S ’ tkat a Sln ^ hfe and a quiet death 
 annexed to it is the ready, the open, 
 the beaten, the common highway to hell: there is 
 no surer sign of damnation than for a man to die 
 quietly after a sinful life. I do not say that all 
 wicked men that are molested at their death with 
 a sense of sin and fears of hell do therefore go to 
 heaven, for some are also made to see, and are 
 eft to despair, not converted by seeing, that they 
 might go roaring out of this world to their place. 
 But I say there is no surer sign of a man’s damna¬ 
 tion than to die quietly after a sinful life; than to 
 sm and die with his eyes shut; than to sin and die 
 with an heart that cannot repent. 4 He hath 
 blinded their eyes and hardened their heart, that 
 they should not see with their eyes, nor understand 
 witn their heart.’ j n .xii. 40. No not so long as they 
 are in this world, ‘ Lest they should see with their 
 eyes, and understand with their heart, and should 
 be converted, and I should heal them.’ Ac . XXV iii. 
 
 26 , 27 . Ro. ii. 1 — 5 . 
 
 God has a judgment for wicked men; God will 
 be even with wicked men. God knows how to re¬ 
 serve the ungodly to the day of judgment to be 
 punished. 2 p e . it And this is one of his ways by 
 which he doth it. Thus it was with Mr. Badman. 
 
 4. Fourthly, it is said in the book of Psalms,* 
 
 Fourth proof. concerni,, S the wicked, 'There are 
 no bands in their death, but their 
 strength is firm.’ rs. ixxiiL 4-6. By no bands he 
 means no troubles, no gracious chastisements, 
 no such corrections for sin as fall to be the lot 
 of God’s people for theirs ; yea, that many times 
 tails to be theirs at the time of their death. 
 
 I herefore he adds concerning the wicked, 4 They 
 a ' e no * 111 trouble (then) as other men, neither are 
 
 they plagued like other men but go as securely 
 out of the wor d as if they had never sinned against 
 God, and put their own souls into danger of damna- 
 tmn. ■ There is no bands in their death.’ Th ev 
 seem to go unbound, and set at liberty out of this 
 world, though they have lived notoriously wicked 
 all their days in it. The prisoner that is to die at 
 the gallows for his wickedness, must first have his 
 irons knocked off his legs ; so he seems to go most 
 at liberty, when indeed he is going to be executed 
 for his transgressions. Wicked men also have no 
 bands 111 their death, they seem to be more at libertv 
 wheu they are even at the wind-up of their sinful 
 life, than at any time besides. 
 
 Hence you shall have them boast of their faith 
 and hope in God’s mercy when they lie upon their 
 death-bed ; yea, you shall have them speak as con- 
 hdently of their salvation as if they had served God 
 all their days when the truth is, the bottom of this 
 their boasting is because they have no bands in their 
 death. Their sin and base life comes not into their 
 mind to correct them, and bring them to repentance; 
 but presumptuous thoughts, and a hope and faith 
 of the spider’s, the devil’s, making, possesseth their 
 soul, to their own eternal undoing, jobviii. 13, u. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WITHOUT GODLY REPENTANCE, THE WICKED MAN’S 
 HOPE AND LIFE DIE TOGETHER.] 
 
 Hence wicked men’s hope is said to die, not 
 before, but with them; they give up the ghost to¬ 
 gether. And thus did Mr. Badman. His sins and 
 his hope went with him to the gate, but there his 
 hope left him, because he died there; but his sins 
 went in with him, to be a worm to gnaw him in 
 conscience for ever and ever. 
 
 The opinion, therefore, of the common people 
 concerning this kind of dying is frivol- A friroIous 
 ous and vain; for Mr. Badman died nion - 
 like a lamb, or, as they call it, like a chrisom-child, 2 * 
 quietly and without fear. I speak not this with 
 reference to the struggling of nature with death, 
 but as to the struggling of the conscience with the 
 judgment of God. I know that nature will struggle 
 with death. I have seen a dog and sheep die hardly. 
 And thus may a wicked man do, because there is 
 an antipathy betwixt nature and death. But even 
 while, even then, when death and nature are strug¬ 
 gling for mastery, the soul, the conscience, may be 
 
 1 his is the most awful of all delusions. It is exemplified 
 
 m the character of Ignorance, in the Pity rim's Progress, who 
 
 was ferried over death by Vain Confidence, but found ‘that 
 there was a wry to hell, even from the gates of heaven.’ Vol 
 m., p. 106 .—(Ed.) 
 
 2 Chrism is a consecrated unguent, or oil, used in the bap¬ 
 
 tism of infants in the Romish Church. It is prepared with 
 
 great ceremony on Holy Thursday. A linen cloth anointed with 
 
 this oil, called a cnrisoin cloth, is laid upon the baby’s face. If 
 it dies within a month after these ceremonies, it was called a 
 chrisom caild. these incantations and charms are supposed to 
 have power to save its soul, and ease the pains of death. Bishop 
 Jeremy Taylor mentions the phantasms that make a chrisom 
 chad to smile at death. Iloly Dying, chap, i., sect 2. — (Ed.) 
 

 
 1 r J 
 
 664 
 
 THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 
 
 as "besotted, as benumbed, as senseless and ignorant 
 of its miserable state, as the block or bed on which 
 the sick lies. And thus they may die like a cliri- 
 som-child in show, but indeed like one who by the 
 'judgment of God is bound over to eternal damna¬ 
 tion ; and that also by the same judgment is kept 
 from seeing what they are, and whither they aie 
 going, till they plunge down among the flames. 
 
 ° And as it is a very great judgment of God on 
 wicked men that so die, for it cuts them oft’ fiom 
 When a wiche,! all possibility of repentance, and so of 
 man dies in his salvation, so it is as greab a judgment 
 upon those that are their companions 
 °L SedC that survive them, for by the manner 
 holder. of their death, they dying so quietly, 
 
 so like unto chrisom-children, as they call it, they 
 are hardened, and take courage to go on in then- 
 course. 
 
 For comparing their life with their death, their 
 sinful, cursed lives, with their childlike, lamblike 
 death, they think that all is well, that no damna¬ 
 tion is happened to them; though they lived like 
 devils incarnate, yet they died like harmless ones. 
 There was no whirlwind, no tempest, no band or 
 plague in their death. They died as quietly as the 
 most godly of them all, and had as great faith and 
 hope of salvation, and would talk as boldly of sal 
 vation as if they had assurance of it. But as was 
 their hope in life, so was their death; their hope 
 was without trial, because it was none of God’s 
 working, and their death was without mplestation, 
 because so was the judgment of God concerning 
 them. 
 
 But I say, at this their survivors take heart to 
 tread their steps, and to continue to live in the 
 breach of the law of God ; yea, they carry it 
 stately in their villainies ; for so it follows in the 
 Psalm; ‘There are no bands in their death, but 
 their strength is firm,’ &c. ‘Therefore pride com- 
 passeth them,’ the survivors, ‘ about as a chain, 
 violence covereth them as a garment.’ Ps. lxxiii. 6. 
 Therefore they take courage to do evil, therefore 
 they pride themselves in their iniquity. There¬ 
 fore, wherefore? Why, because their fellows died, 
 after they had lived long in a most profane and 
 wicked life, as quietly and as like to lambs as if 
 they had been innocent. 
 
 Yea, they are bold, by seeing this, to conclude 
 that God either does not, or will not, take notice 
 of their sins. They ‘ speak wickedly, and speak 
 loftily.’ Ps. lxxiii. 8 . They speak wickedly of sin, for 
 that they make it better than by the Word it is pro¬ 
 nounced to be. They speak wickedly concerning 
 oppression that they commend, and count it a 
 prudent act. They also speak loftily. ‘ They set 
 their mouth against the heavens,’ &c. ‘And they 
 say, How doth God know? and is there knowledge 
 in the Most High ?’ Ps. lxxiii. n. And all this, so 
 
 far as I can see, arisetli in their hearts from the 
 beholding of the quiet and lamb-like death of their 
 companions. ‘ Behold these are the ungodly who 
 prosper in the world,’ that is, by wicked ways; 
 they increase in riches.’ Ps. lxxiii. 12. 
 
 This therefore is a great judgment of God, both 
 upon that man that dieth in his sins, and also upon 
 his companion that beholdeth him so to die. He 
 sinneth, he dieth in his sins, and yet dieth quietly. 
 What shall his companion say to this? What 
 judgment shall ho make how God will deal with 
 him, by beholding the lamb-like death of his com¬ 
 panion? Be sure he cannot, as from such a sight, 
 say, Woe be to me, for judgment is before him. 
 He cannot gather that sin is a dreadful and a bit¬ 
 ter thing, by the child-like death of Mr. Badman. 
 But must rather, if he judgeth according to what 
 he sees, or according to his corrupted reason, con¬ 
 clude with the wicked ones of old, that ‘every one 
 that doth evil is good in the sight of the Lord, and 
 he delighteth in them; or. Where is the God of 
 judgment ?’ Mai. ii. 17 . 
 
 Yea, this is enough to puzzle the wisest man. 
 David himself was put to a stand by beholding the 
 quiet death of ungodly men. ‘ Verily,’ says he, 4 1 
 have cleansed my heart in vain, and washed my hands 
 in innocency.’ Ps. lxxiii. 13. They, to appearance, faie 
 better by far than I: ‘ Their eyes stand out with fat¬ 
 ness,’ they have more than heart could wish. But 
 all the daylong have I been plagued, and chastened 
 every morning.’ This, I say, made David wonder, 
 yea, and Job and Jeremiah too. But he goeth 
 into the sanctuary, and then he understands their 
 end, nor could he understand it before. ‘ I went 
 into the sanctuary of God.’ What place was that? 
 Why there where he might inquire of God, and by 
 him he resolved of this matter ; ‘ Then , says he, 
 
 ‘ understood I their end.’ Then I saw that thou 
 hast 4 set them in slippery places,’ and that ‘ thou 
 castedst them down to destruction.’ Castedst 
 them down, that is, suddenly, or, as the next words 
 say, ‘ As in a moment they are utterly consumed 
 with terrors;’ which terrors did not seize them on 
 their sick-bed, for they had ‘wo hands in their death. 
 The terrors, therefore, seized 1 them there, where 
 also they are holden in them for ever. This he 
 found out, I say, but not without great painfulness, 
 grief, and pricking in his reins; so deep, so hard, 
 and so difficult did he find it rightly to come to a 
 determination in this matter. 
 
 And, indeed, this is a deep judgment of God to¬ 
 wards ungodly sinners; it is enough to stagger a 
 whole world, only the godly that are in the woild 
 have a sanctuary to go to, where the oracle and 
 Word of God is, by which his judgments, and a 
 
 1 These two words are * cease’ and ‘ ceased’, in the first 
 edition; they were corrected to ‘ seize and ‘seized in Bun) ani- 
 second edition.—(E d.) 
 
THE LIFE AND DEATH OF ME. BADMAN. 
 
 665 
 
 reason of many of them are made known to, and 
 understood by them. 
 
 Atten. Indeed this is a staggering dispensation. 
 It is full of the wisdom and anger of God. And I 
 believe, as you have said, that it is full of judg¬ 
 ment to the world. Who would have imagined, 
 that had not known Mr. Badman, and yet had seen 
 him die, but that he had been a man of an holy 
 life and conversation, since he died so stilly, so 
 quietly, so like a lamb or a chrisom-child ? Would 
 they not, I say, have concluded that he was a 
 righteous man ? or that if they had known him 
 and his life, yet to see him die so quietly, would 
 they not have concluded that he had made his 
 peace with God? Nay farther, if some had known 
 that he had died in his sins, and yet that he had 
 died so like a lamb, would they not have concluded 
 that either God doth not know our sins, or that he 
 likes them; or that he wants power, or will, or 
 heart, or skill, to punish them; since Mr. Badman 
 himself went from a sinful life so quietly, so peace¬ 
 able, and so like a lamb as he did ? 
 
 Wise. Without controversy, this is a heavy 
 judgment of God upon wicked men ; one goes to 
 hell in peace, another goes to hell in trouble ; one 
 goes to hell, being sent thither by his own hands ; 
 another goes to hell, being sent thither by the hand 
 of his companion ; one goes thither with his eyes 
 shut, and another goes thither with his eyes open ; 
 one goes thither roaring, and another goes thither 
 boasting of heaven and happiness all the way he 
 goes. Job xxL 23. One goes thither like Mr. Badman 
 himself, and others go thither as did his brethren. 
 But above all, Mr. Badman’s death, as to the 
 manner of dying, is the fullest of snares and traps 
 to wicked men ; therefore, they that die as he 
 are the greatest stumble to the world. They go, 
 and go, they go on peaceably from youth to old 
 age, and thence to the grave, and so to hell, 
 without noise. * They go as an ox goeth to the 
 
 slaughter, or as a fool to the correction of the 
 stocks; that is, both senselessly and securely. 
 0 ! but being come at the gates of hell. 0! but 
 when they see those gates set open for them. 0! 
 but when they see that that is their home, and that 
 they must go in thither, then their peace and quiet¬ 
 ness flies away for ever. Then they roar like lions, 
 yell like dragons, howl like dogs, and tremble at 
 their judgment, as do the devils themselves. 0! 
 when they see they must shoot the gulf and throat 
 of hell ! when they shall see that hell hath shut 
 her ghastly jaws upon them, when they shall open 
 their eyes and find themselves within the belly and 
 bowels of hell! Then they will mourn, and weep, 
 and hack, and gnash their teeth for pain. But this 
 must not be, or if it must, yet very rarely, till they 
 are gone out of the sight and hearing of those mor¬ 
 tals whom they do leave behind them alive in the 
 world. 
 
 Atten. Well, my good neighbour Wiseman, I 
 perceive that the sun grows low, and that you have 
 come to a conclusion with Mr. Badman’s life and 
 death ; and, therefore, I will take my leave of you. 
 Only first, let me tell you, I am glad that I have 
 met with you to-day, and that our hap was to fall 
 in with Mr. Badman s state. I also thank you for 
 your freedom with me, in granting of me your re¬ 
 ply to all my questions. I would only beg your 
 prayers that God will give me much grace, that I 
 may neither live nor die as did Mr. Badman. 
 
 Wise. My good neighbour Attentive, I wish your 
 welfare in soul and body; and if aught that I have 
 said of Mr. Badman’s life and death may be of 
 benefit unto you, I shall be heartily glad ; only I 
 desire you to thank God for it, and to pray heartily 
 foi me, that I with you may be kept by the power 
 of God through faith unto salvation. 
 
 Atten. Amen. Farewell. 
 
 W ise. I wish you heartily farewell. 
 
 VOL. in. 
 
 84 
 
A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE GROANS OE A DAMNED SOUL: 
 
 OR, AN EXPOSITION OF THOSE WORDS IN THE SIXTEENTH OF LUKE, CONCERNING 
 
 THE RICH MAN AND THE BEGGAR. 
 
 WHEREIN IS DISCOVERED THE LAMENTABLE STATE OF THE DAMNED; THEIR CRIES, THEIR DESIRr.S IN THEI T0 
 
 WITH THE DETERMINATION OF GOD UPON THEM. A GOOD WARNING WORD TO SINNERS, BOTH OLD * _ 
 
 TAKE INTO OONS1DEKATION BETIMES, AND TO SEEK, BE FAITH IN JESUS CHUIST, TO AVOID, LEST THEY COME INTO THE 
 
 SAME PLACE OF TORMENT. 
 
 Also, a Brief Discourse touching the profitableness of the Scriptures for our instruction in the way of righteousness, 
 
 according to the tendency ot the said parable. 
 
 BY THAT POOR AND CONTEMPTIBLE SERVANT OF JESUS CHRIST, JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 * The wicked shall he turned into hell , and all the nations that forget God.’—Vs. ix. 17. 
 
 * And whosoever was not found written in the hook of life was cast into the lake of fue. Re. xx. 
 
 London: Printed by Ralph Wood, for M. Wright, at the King’s Head in the Old Bailey, 1658. 1 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR 
 
 came from the unseen world—from the bosom of 
 
 How awful is that cry of anguish which has reached 
 us from beyond the tomb, even from the infernal 
 realms, and on which Bunyan, with his singular and 
 rare ability, fixes our attention. It is the voice of 
 one who had received his good things in this fleet¬ 
 ing life; who had fared sumptuously every day, 
 without providing for eternity, and now cries for a 
 drop of water to cool his parched tongue. Plunged 
 into unutterable, inconceivable, and eternal tor¬ 
 ments, he pleads that the poor afflicted beggar, 
 who had lain at his gate, might be sent from the 
 dead to warn his relatives, that they might escape, 
 and not aggravate his misery, by upbraiding him 
 as a cause of their destruction, by having neglected 
 to set them a pious example. Fie knows that there 
 is no hope for his own wretched soul, and expresses 
 no wish that his family should pay for masses to 
 ease his pangs. No, such tomfooleries are limited 
 to this insane world. His poor request is one drop 
 of water, and a warning messenger to his relatives. 
 The answer is most decisive—-there is a great, an 
 eternal gulf fixed—none can pass between heaven 
 and hell; and as to your father’s house, ‘ They 
 have Moses and the prophets; ’ and now it may be 
 added, They have Jesus and his apostles; if they 
 hear not them, ‘ neither will they be persuaded 
 though one rose from the dead.’ No; if Isaiah, with 
 his mighty eloquence, again appeared among mor¬ 
 tals, again would his cry be heard, ‘ Who hath 
 believed our report ? ’ ‘ What! seek the living among 
 the dead? To the law, and to the testimony, saith 
 God.’ 
 
 Reader, these are solemn realities. He who 
 
 the Father—reveals them unto us. 0! that we 
 may not mistake that voice for thunder, which 
 called upon a trembling world to ‘ hear him. 
 
 The rich man personates all the thoughtless and 
 unconverted who die in their sins, his wealth can 
 neither bribe death nor hell; he is stricken, and 
 descends to misery with the bitter, hut unavailing 
 regret of having neglected the great salvation. Fie 
 had taken no personal, prayerful pains to search 
 the sacred Scriptures for himself; he had disobeyed 
 the gospel, lived in revelry, and carelessness of his 
 soul; he had ploughed iniquity and sown wicked¬ 
 ness, and reaps the same. ‘ By the blast of God lie 
 perishes, and is consumed by the breath of his 
 nostrils.’ ‘ They have sown the wind, and they 
 shall reap the whirlwind. 
 
 The opinion universally prevails, although the 
 voice of infinite wisdom has declared it false, that 
 miracles, or a messenger from the invisible world 
 could awake the dead in sin. The world s eyes are 
 shut, and its ears are stopped from seeing and 
 hearing that most illustrious celestial messenger of 
 
 i There were nine editions of this book published during 
 the Author’s life; all those subsequent to the first have the 
 following title:—* Sighs from Hell, or the Groans of a Damned 
 Soul; discovering from the 16th of Luke the lamentable state 
 of the damned: and may fitly serve as a warning word to 
 sinners, both old and youug, by faith in Jesus Christ, to avoid 
 the same place of torment. With a discovery of the useful¬ 
 ness of the Scriptures as our safe-conduct for avoiding the 
 torments of hell. By John Bunyan. London: Printed lor 
 F. Smith, at the Elephant and Castle, without Temple-bar. 
 At Is. bound.’ 
 
C67 
 
 JOHN GIFFORD 
 
 mercy—‘God manifest in the flesh’—who still 
 speaks to us in his words. lie revealed, and he 
 alone could have revealed, these solemn, these heart- 
 stirring facts—He performed the most astonishing 
 miracles—His doctrines were truth—He required 
 holiness of life to fit the soul for heaven; there¬ 
 fore He was despised, tortured, murdered. In the 
 lace of all this, the poor wretch cries, ‘send Lazarus.’ 
 VV hat refined cruelty! He had borne the cross and 
 leceived the crown. Uncrown him, and send him 
 back to lie at my brother’s gate, and if he dares 
 to tell him the truth, that my soul was in hell, even 
 while the splendid funeral was carrying my body 
 to the tomb, he will hurry him to "death. Poor 
 fool! are not thy kindred as hardened as thou wast? 
 Send Lazarus from the dead! That, as Bunyan 
 justly says, would be to make a new Bible, to im- 
 pio\e the finished salvation. No, if they will not 
 hear Moses and the prophets, our Lord and his 
 apostles, they must all likewise perish. This is a 
 'very meagre outline of this solemn treatise; it is 
 lull of striking illustrations, eminently calculated 
 to mouse the thoughtless, and to convey solid 
 instruction to the thoughtful. 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 1 TI ‘ 19 was tlie thir(1 volume that Bunyan pub- 
 iished, and, with modest timidity, he shelters him¬ 
 self under a strong recommendatory preface by his 
 pastor, who, in the Grace Abounding , he calls ‘ holy 
 Mr. Gifford. . So pi^ular was it, as to pass through 
 nine editions in the author’s lifetime. 1 The pre¬ 
 face, by John Gifford, was printed only with the 
 first edition. As it gives a very interesting account 
 of Bunyan, and his early labours in the ministry, 
 which has never been noticed by any of his biogra¬ 
 phers, and is extremely rare, it is here reprinted 
 from a fine copy in the British Museum, and must 
 prove interesting to every admirer of John Bunyan. 
 
 I close with two short extracts—may they leave an 
 abiding impression upon our minds. ‘God will 
 have a time to meet with them that now do not 
 seek after him. ’ 0 ! regard, regard, for the judg- 
 
 ment day is at hand, the graves are ready to fly 
 open, the trumpet is near the sounding, the sentence 
 will ere long be passed, and then,’ it will be seen 
 whether we belong to the class of Dives, who pre¬ 
 ferred the world, or to that of Lazarus, who pre¬ 
 ferred Christ; and then, 0 then! time cannot be 
 recalled. Geo. Offor. 
 
 PBEFACE, BY THE BEY. JOHN GIFFOBD, 
 
 PASTOR OF THE CHURCH OF CHRIST AT BEDFORD, OF WHICH JOHN BUNYAN WAS A MEMBER, 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 It is sad to see how the most of men neglect their 
 pi ecious souls, turning their backs upon the glorious 
 gospil, and little minding a crucified Jesus, when, 
 in the meanwhile, their bodies are well provided 
 Tor, their estates much regarded, and the things of 
 this present life are highly prized, as if the darling 
 was of less value than a clod of earth ; an immortal 
 soul, than a perishing body; a precious Saviour, 
 than unsatisfying creatures. Yea, though they 
 have been often wooed with gracious entreaties, 
 glorious promises, and fresh bleeding wounds, to 
 make choice of the better part, that shall never be 
 taken from them; yet, alas! such influence hath 
 this world, and the pleasures of it, and such is the 
 blindness of their understandings, that they con¬ 
 tinue still to hunt after those things which cannot 
 profit, nor be a help to them in the worst hour. 
 T ea, that will prove no better than poison to 
 their souls, and refuse that would be (if embraced) 
 their happiness here, and their glory hereafter. 
 Luch a strange stupidity hath seized upon the 
 hearts of men, that they will venture the loss of 
 their immortal souls for a few dying comforts, 
 and v ill expose themselves to endless misery for 
 a moments mirth, and short-lived pleasures. 
 
 But, certainly, a barn well fraught, a bag well 
 filled, a back well clothed, and a body weTl fed, 
 will prove but poor comforts when men come to 
 die, when death shall not only separate their souls 
 from their bodies, but both from their comforts. 
 What will it then avail them that they have gained 
 much ? Or what will they give in exchange for 
 their souls? Be wise, then (0 reader, to whose 
 sight this may come), before it be too late, and 
 thou repent, when repentance shall be hid from 
 thine eyes; also it will he as a dagger to thine heart 
 one day, to remember what a Christ, what a soul, 
 what a heaven thou hast lost for a few pleasures, 
 a little mirth, a short enjoyment of this present 
 w r orld ; yea, and that after many warnings against 
 many reproofs, and, notwithstanding the many ten¬ 
 ders of a full Christ, instead of those empty vani¬ 
 ties which thy soul closed with, hunted after, and 
 would by no means be persuaded to part wfithal. 
 No, but thou wouldst take thy time, and swim in 
 
 1 In the ‘errata’ to the first edition, Bunyan says—‘At 
 the first I thought to put out with this a discourse of the two 
 covenants, which since I thought to put forth in a piece by 
 itself.’ This shows that his great work ou the covenants was 
 the fourth volume which he wrote. In the second edition, the 
 author altered the arrangement of the text, by placing in his 
 comment on ver. 28 a considerable part of what in the first 
 edition formed the ‘ use and application.’ 
 
668 
 
 JOHN GIFFORD TO THE READER. 
 
 this world’s delights, though thy soul thereby was 
 drowned in perdition and destruction. iTi.vi. 9. True, 
 few there are that will he persuaded that this couise 
 they take, though their daily conversations do bear 
 witness to it; for how much time is spent, and how 
 much care is the hearts of men filled withal, aftei 
 attaining, keeping, and increasing these things?^ 
 And how seldom do they trouble their heads, to 
 have their minds taken up with thoughts of the 
 better ? Cumbering themselves with many things, 
 but wholly neglecting the one thing necessary; 
 yea, whereby do they measure their own or other 
 men’s happiness, but by the large incomes of this 
 world’s good, accounting this the greatest, if not 
 the only blessedness, to have their corn, wine, and 
 oil increase in abundance, and reckoning those 
 that are most serious about, and earnest after the 
 world to come, men of foolish spirits, giddy brains, 
 and worthy to be branded in the forehead foi simple 
 deluded ones. But surely he is the most fool that 
 will be one at last; and he that God calls so (Lu. 
 xii. 20 ) will pass for one in the end; yea, within a 
 short time, they themselves shall change their notes. 
 Ask the rich man spoken of in the ensuing treatise, 
 who was the fool—he or Lazarus? and he will soon 
 resolve the question, that he now sees, and by 
 woeful experience finds (whatsoever his lormei 
 thoughts were), that he, not Lazarus, was the silly 
 deluded one; for he, fool-like, preferred the worse 
 things before the better, aud refused that which 
 once might have been had ; but now he hath slipped 
 the time, it cannot be gained, when this poor man, 
 knowing the day of his visitation, was making suie 
 of that glory which he now enjoys, and shall enjoy 
 for evermore. So that in this parable (if I roay 
 so call it) thou shalt find that Scripture confirmed, 
 ‘That the triumphing of the wicked is short.’ Job 
 xx . 5. Together with that, ‘ That the temptations 
 (or afflictions) of the righteous, which cause heavi¬ 
 ness, are but for a season. ’ l Pe. i. c. And in this 
 treatise, both of these are largely opened and ex¬ 
 plained. Behold, here a rich man clothed in silks, 
 fed with delicates, and faring deliciously every day; 
 but look a little farther, and lo! this man clothed 
 with vengeance, roaring under torments, and eai- 
 nestlv begging for a drop of water to cool his 
 tongue; a sad change. On the other hand, licie 
 thou shalt see a poor, but a gracious man, with a 
 pinched belly, naked back, and running sores, 
 begging at the rich man s gate for a morsel to feed 
 his belly, a sad state, yet but short; for look 
 again, and behold this beggar gloriously carried, 
 as in a chariot of triumph, by the angels into 
 Abraham’s bosom, shining in glory, clothed with 
 beautiful garments, and his soul set down with 
 Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, in the kingdom of 
 the Father; liis rags are gone, his sores healed, 
 and his soul filled with joy unspeakable, and full 
 
 of glory; the one carried not his cosily fare, and his 
 gorgeous apparel with him into hell; nor the other 
 his coarse diet, mouldy bread, filthy rags, and 
 ulcerous body into heaven; but the happiness of 
 the one, and the misery of the other, took their 
 leaves at the grave ; the worldly man’s portion was 
 but for his life, and the godly man’s afflictions lasted 
 no longer; ‘ For mark the perfect, and behold the 
 upright, for the end of that man is peace; but the 
 end of the wicked shall be cut off.’ Ps. xxxvii. 37, 38. 
 His present comforts, his future hopes, and his 
 cursed soul together ; yea, though he lives many 
 days, and rejoices in them all, yet the days of dark¬ 
 ness will overtake him, and his eye shall see no 
 more g ood; in his life time he enjoyed his good 
 things, and, at the hour of death, legions of devils 
 will beset him, innumerable evils will befal him; 
 and then shall he pay full dear for all the pleasuies 
 of sin,that have carried away his heart from closing 
 with, and following the Lord in the day of his 
 prosperity. Ungodly men, because they feel no 
 changes now, they fear none hereafter, but flatter 
 themselves with dying as the godly, though their 
 life is consumed in wickedness, and their strength 
 in providing for and satisfying the lusts of the 
 flesh. But as it fared with wicked Balaam, so 
 shall it fare with these, and their vain hopes will 
 prove a feeding upon ashes through their deceived 
 heart, that hath turned them aside, is.xiiv.2o. ‘ For 
 they that sow to the flesh, shall of the flesh reap 
 corruption.’ Ga. vi. 8. ‘ And they that plough ini¬ 
 
 quity, and sow wickedness, shall reap the same, 
 job iv. 8. Ho. viii. 7. But they that sow to the Spirit, 
 shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting. Say ye 
 then to the righteous, ‘It shall go well with 
 him; however it goes with him now, a lew days 
 will produce a happy change.’ ‘ It shall go well 
 with him that feareth the Lord.’ Ec. viii. 12 . Go 
 on then, 0 soul, thou that hast set thy face to¬ 
 wards heaven, though the east wind beats upon 
 thee, and thou find trouble and sorrow; these shall 
 endure but for a night, joy will undoubtedly come 
 in the morning; besides those sweet visits thou 
 shalt have from thy precious Saviour, in this thy 
 day of darkness, wait but a while, and thy dark¬ 
 ness shall be turned into light. ‘ When the light 
 of the wicked shall be put out, and the spark of 
 his fire, wherewith he warmed himself, shall not 
 shine.’ Jobxviii. 5 . ‘Grudge not to see the wickeu 
 prosper, and tlieir steps wnslied with butter, but 
 rather put on boivels of mercy and pity, as the 
 elect of God, knowing that they are set in slippery 
 places,’ Ps. lxxiii. is. And their day is coming, when 
 fearful horror shall surprise them, and hell be 
 opened to receive them; nor yet be disquieted in 
 thy mind, that troubles and afflictions do beset 
 thee round ; for, as a worser thing is reserved lor 
 them, so a better is prepared for thee. Ho they 
 
JOHN GIFFORD TO THE READER. 
 
 drink wine in bowls ? and dost thou mingle thy tears 
 with thy drink ? Do they live in pleasures, and spend 
 their days in wealth? and dost thou sigh and mourn 
 in secret ? Well, there is a cup for them in the hand 
 of the Lord, the wine whereof is red, and full of 
 mixture, which they must drink up the dregs. p«. 
 lxxv. 8 . And the Lord hath a bottle for thy tears, rs. 
 ivL 8. And a book for thy secret sighs, and ere long 
 thy brinish tears shall be turned into the sweetest 
 wine, which thou shalt drink new in the kingdom of 
 the Father, and thy secret sighs into glorious praises; 
 when thy mouth shall be filled with laughter, and 
 thy eyes see the King in his glory* 
 
 Now, considering that these lines may be brought 
 to the sight both of the one sort and the other, I 
 shall lay a few things before the thought of each; 
 and first to the worser sort. 
 
 First. Consider what an ill bargain thou wilt 
 make, to sell thy precious soul for a short con¬ 
 tinuance in thy sins and pleasures. If that man 
 drives but an ill trade, who, to gain the world, 
 should lose his soul (Mat. xvi. 26 ), then, certainly, 
 thou art far worse that sells thy soul for a very 
 trifle. 0 it is pity that so precious a thing 
 should be parted withal, to be made a prey for the 
 devouring lion, for that which is worse than nothing! 
 It they were branded for desperate wretches that 
 caused their children to pass through the fire to 
 Moloch, surely thou much more that gives thy 
 soul to devouring flames, to be fuel for the ever¬ 
 lasting fire, upon so unfit terms; what meanest 
 thou, 0 man, to truck with the devils? Is there 
 no better merchandise to trade in than what comes 
 from hell, or out of the bowels of the earth? and 
 to be had upon no lower rates than thy immortal 
 soul? Yes, surely the merchandise of wisdom, 
 which is better than the merchandise of silver, and 
 the gain thereof than fine gold (Pr. m. 14 ; viii. 19), is 
 exposed to sale (Re. iii. is), and to be had without 
 money or price; and if thou shouldest part with 
 anything for it, it is such that it is better to part 
 withal than to keep. The wise merchant that 
 sought a goodly pearl, having found one, sold all 
 that he had, not himself, not his soul, and all that 
 he sold was in itself not worth a farthing, and yet 
 obtained the pearl. Mat. xiii. 45, 46 . Paul made the 
 like exchange when he threw away his own right¬ 
 eousness, which was but rags, yea, filthy rags (is. 
 ixiv. o, and put on the garment of salvation, and 
 cast away to the dunghill that which "was once his 
 gain, and won Christ, pm. iii. 8. Thou needest not 
 cast away thy soul for puddle pleasures; behold 
 the fountain of living water is set open, and thou 
 invited to it, to take and drink thy belly, thy soul 
 lull, without price or money, is. iv. 2. 
 
 Secondly. Take a short (yet let it not be a slight) 
 view ot the best of the things men prize so high, 
 that forthe love of, they lose their souls; what 
 
 CC9 
 
 are they? Even painted nothings, promising vani¬ 
 ties (like the apples of Sodom, fair to the eye, but 
 being touched, turn to dust; or like our mother 
 Lve s, that had a beautiful look, but, being tasted, 
 brings forth death), which, for the most part, have 
 proved snares to the owners, and always miserable 
 comforters at the parting; they cannot satisfy in 
 life, for the more of these things are had, the more 
 (with a disquieted spirit) are they reached after, 
 and what comes in serves but to whet up the 
 greedy unsatisfied appetite after more. The world 
 passeth away, and the lust thereof. 1 jn. n. 17. 
 Though most men content themselves with these, 
 yet it is not in these to satisfy them, and had they 
 but one glimpse of the world to come, one cranny 
 of light to discern the riches of Christ, and the 
 least taste of the pleasures that are at the right 
 hand of God (Ps. xvi. 11), they would be as little 
 satisfied without a share in them, as they are now 
 with what of worldly things they enjoy; much less 
 can they ease from pain at death. Clap a bag of 
 gold (as one once did) to thy sinking spirit, pained 
 body, and tormented conscience, and it can neither 
 cheer up the one, nor appease the other, least of 
 all can they deliver from, or yield comfort after 
 death; those cannot serve as a bribe to death to 
 pass thee by, nor yet bring comfort to thy soul 
 when thou art gone. The rich fool’s large crop 
 and great increase could not procure one night’s 
 respite, nor one moment’s comfort. Besides, God 
 regards them so little, that frequently he gives the 
 largest share of them to whom he hateth most 
 (Ps. xvii. H), and the least to them who are the ex¬ 
 cellent in the earth, in whom his soul delights, 
 although he hath made them heirs of the kingdom. 
 Ja. ii. 5. Y et doth he bestow such a small portion 
 of these worldly things upon them, hereby declaring 
 to all how little he sets by those things which most 
 set so much by, and to draw up our hearts, minds, 
 and affections to the things above; yea, His own 
 Son that he appointed heir of all things (He. i. 2 ) 
 shall come forth neither of rich kindred, nor at¬ 
 tended with gallants, nor yet accoutred with the 
 world’s glory, but in a low, mean, and abject 
 condition, at whose birth a manger received him; 
 and through his life sorrows, wants, and sufferings 
 did attend, and at the end a shameful death, in the 
 world’s esteem, befals him, and by all this he shows 
 his contempt of the worldly man’s darling. Cast 
 not away thy soul then, 0 man, in seeking after, 
 solacing thyself in, and contenting thyself with this 
 present world; for though thou mnyest make gold 
 thy hope, and put thy confidence in thy wealth, 
 yet when this thy hope shall fail, and thy confi¬ 
 dence slip from thee (as sure it will ere long), glad 
 wouldest thou be of the least drop of the water of 
 life, and the least filing of that precious gold (that 
 thou art now called upon to drink of, and to buy 
 
670 
 
 JOHN GIFFORD TO THE READER. 
 
 for thyself); hut, alas, they shall not he had. Then, 
 
 0 then, what profit will thy treasures of wicked¬ 
 ness yield thee; and Avhereto will thy thick clay 
 that thou hast hoarded up, and thy carnal plea¬ 
 sures which thou hast drunk down, as the fish 
 drinks down water; whereto, I say, will they serve, 
 unless to weigh thee the deeper into hell, and in¬ 
 crease the fire, when it shall he kindled upon thee? 
 
 Thirdly. Look upon thy loss, too, which is such 
 that ten thousand worlds cannot repair—thy soul, 
 thy body, thy comforts, thy hopes, thy share in a 
 crucified Jesus, the crown of life, and everlasting 
 communion with the Father, Son, and Spirit, blessed 
 angels, and glorified saints, and a soul-satisfying, 
 soul-saving Christ, who came from the bosom of 
 love, and gave himself to open a way to everlasting 
 glory, by the sacrifice of himself, to whom thou art 
 called, invited, and persuaded to come ; whose 
 heart is open, arms spread, and who hath room 
 enough in his bosom to receive thee, grace enough 
 to pardon thee, blood enough to justify thee, trea¬ 
 sures enough to enrich thee, pleasures enough to 
 delight thee (Ps. xxxvi. 8 ), and glory enough to crown 
 thee ; in whom it hath pleased the Father that 
 in him should all fulness dwell, Col. i. 19 ; to make 
 them perfectly blessed that come to him, so that 
 there is no need to seek happiness among the 
 creatures, which most do, and thereby lose true 
 happiness, and their souls too. Turn in hither, and 
 thou shalt eat of his bread, and drink of the wine 
 which he hath mingled. Pr. ix. 4. 5. Wouldst thou 
 fare deliciously every day, and have thy soul de¬ 
 light itself in fatness ? is. lv. 2 . Hearken diligently, 
 and come to the wedding; the oxen and fatlings 
 are killed, and all things are ready. Mat. xxii. 5. 1 
 
 tell thee, whatsoever food thou feedest upon else, 
 will prove no better to thee than the prodigal’s 
 husks. Lu. xv. 16. That will starve thee whilst thou 
 feedest on them; and if thou drinkest of other wine, 
 it will prove as a cup of wine mixed with poison, 
 which though it be pleasant to the taste, it will be 
 the death of thy soul. Wilt thou, then, lose this 
 Christ, this food, this pleasure, this heaven, this 
 happiness, for a thing of nought ? Wilt thou 
 drink out of a puddle, a broken cistern which leaks 
 out the water, and holds nothing but mud, and 
 refuse the fountain of living water, which, whoso¬ 
 ever tastes of, shall live for ever? 
 
 Fourthly. Beware of persuading thyself into a 
 conceit of the poor man’s end, if thou livest the 
 rich man’s life, and diest his death. It is strange 
 to see how many run swift by the very way to 
 hell, yet are full of confidence of going to heaven, 
 though Scripture everywhere shuts them out, and 
 Christ at last will certainly shut them out for ever 
 hereafter, living and dying in their present state. 
 Let none, therefore, deceive you, neither deceive 
 yourselves, for none such can enter into the king¬ 
 
 dom of heaven. But for these things’ sake cometh 
 the wrath of God on the children of disobedience, 
 l Co. vi. 9. Ep. v. 5, 6. And how sad will thy disap¬ 
 pointment be, that goest on securely fearing no¬ 
 thing, being fully, yet falsely, persuaded of eternal 
 life at last, and then drop down into the bottom¬ 
 less pit! Like wicked Hainan, that dreamed of 
 greater honour, but behold a gallows ; or our 
 mother Eve, who conceited to be as God, but be¬ 
 came a cursed creature. Though the devil may 
 persuade thee thou mayest live as in hell here, yet 
 in heaven hereafter, believe him not, for he en¬ 
 deavours to keep thee in his snares, that he may 
 drag .thee to hell with him ; and the better to 
 effect his devilish design upon thee, he will pre¬ 
 sent (and through his cursed subtlety knows how 
 to do it) thy sins and this world in as lovely and 
 taking a guise as may be, but will hide the evil 
 consequences from thine eyes, that thou mightest 
 be inveigled by gazing on the one, and not be af¬ 
 frighted by beholding the other; his bait shall be 
 pleasant, but his hook hid, like the strumpet in Pr. 
 vii, that entices the simple with fair words, but con¬ 
 ceals that the way to her house leads to the chambers 
 of death; nothing appears buta bed richlyfurnished, 
 and a promise of solacing him with loves; but he that 
 followeth after her, goeth as an ox to the slaughter, 
 and as a fool to the correction of the stocks. 
 
 Fifthly. This is thy day to prevent the loss of 
 the one, and to get an interest in the other; this 
 is the day of salvation, the accepted day of the 
 Lord. 2 Co. vi. 2 . Let the sun of this day be set 
 before this work be done, and an everlasting night 
 of darkness will close thee in, wherein thou, thou 
 shalt have time enough indeed to bemoan thy folly, 
 but none to learn to grow wiser. It is a sad thing, 
 especially in soul concernments, to be wise too late, 
 and to cry out when time is past, 0 that I had 
 improved it when it was present. Then will the re¬ 
 membrance of thy former misspent time, and thy 
 despair of ever gaining more, be like poisoned 
 arrows drinking up thy spirit. Amongst all the 
 talents God hath entrusted man withal, this is not 
 the least, because on it depends eternity; and 
 according to the use we make of this, will our 
 eternal condition be, though the most of men live 
 at such a rate as if it was given them to no other 
 end than to waste in wickedness, and consume 
 in pleasures. What means else their spending 
 days, weeks, months, years, yea, their whole life, 
 in whoring, swearing, playing, coveting, and ful¬ 
 filling the lusts of the flesh, so that when they come 
 to die, the great work that they were sent to do is 
 then to be done; their souls, Christ, eternity, was 
 scarce thought on before; but now, when merciless 
 death begins to gripe them, then do they begin to 
 bethink themselves of those things which they 
 should have got in readiness before, and that is 
 
JOHN GIFFORD TO THE READER. 
 
 671 
 
 the reason why we so often hear many that lie upon 
 their death-beds to cry out for a little longer time; 
 and no wonder, for they have the salvation of their 
 souls to seek. 0 sad case! to have their work 
 to do when the night is come, and a Christ to seek 
 when death hath found them; take therefore the 
 counsel of the Holy Ghost die. in. 7), ‘ To-day, if 
 you will hear his voice, harden not your hearts.’ 
 Mark, it is the Spirit’s counsel. True, the devil 
 and thine own heart will tell thee another tale, and 
 be ready to whisper in thine ears, Thou mayest 
 have time enough hereafter; what need of so much 
 haste, another day may serve as well; let thy soul 
 be tilled with pleasure a little longer, and thy bags 
 tilled a little more ; thou mayest have time for 
 this and that too. 0, but this is the suo-o-estion 
 of an enemy, that would cause thee to defer so 
 long, that thy heart may grow too hard, and 
 thine ear too heavy to hear at all; but, certainly, 
 this being the greatest business, challengeth the first 
 and greatest care. Mat. vi. 33. And let this be done; 
 then, if thou shalt either have so much time to spare, 
 or a heart to do it, take thy time for the other. 
 
 Sixthly. This day of thy mercy and Christ’s im¬ 
 portunity will not last long; it is but a day, and 
 that a day of visitation. Indeed it is rich grace that 
 there should be a day, but dally not because it is 
 but a day. Jerusalem had her day, but because 
 therein she did not know the things of her peace, 
 a pitch night did overtake. La. xix. 42, 43. It is a 
 day of patience, and if thou despisest the riches of 
 God’s goodness, patience, and long-suffering to¬ 
 wards thee, and art not thereby led to repentance 
 (Ro. iL 5), a short time will make it a day of venge¬ 
 ance. Though now Christ calls, because he is will¬ 
 ing to save sinners, yet he will not always call; 
 see then that thou refuse not him that speaks from 
 heaven in this gospel day. He. xii 25. But seek him 
 while he may be found, and call upon him while he 
 is near (is. lv. 6 ), lest thou criest after him hereafter, 
 and he refuse thee. It is not crying, Lord, Lord, 
 when the day of grace is past, that will procure 
 the least crumb of mercy. Matt. yu. 21. No, if thou 
 comest not when called, but stayest while supper 
 is ended, thou shalt not taste thereof (Lu. xiv. 24), 
 though a bit would save thy life, thy soul; if thou 
 drinkest not of the fountain while it is opened, 
 thou shalt not when it is shut, though thou beggest 
 with tears of blood for one drop to cool thy scorch¬ 
 ing flaming heart; thou that mightest have had 
 thy vessel full, and welcome, shall not now have 
 so much as will hang on the tip of a finger. 0 ! 
 remember, the axe is laid to the root of the tree. 
 Matt. iiL io. And although three years’ time may be 
 granted, through the vine-dresser’s importunity, 
 that will soon be expired, and then the axe that is 
 now laid, shall cut up the tree by its roots, if it 
 bring not forth good fruit. Seest thou not that 
 
 many of late have been snatched away, on each 
 side of thee (by that hand that hath been stretched 
 out and is so still) ? and though thou mayest escape 
 a while, yet hast thou no assurance that the de¬ 
 stroying angel will long pass by thy door. 0 then, 
 neglect thy soul no longer, but consider time is 
 short, and uncertain, eternity long, thy work great, 
 thy soul immortal, this world vanishing, Christ 
 precious, hell hot, and heaven desirable. 
 
 And if thou beest a Christian (to whom this may 
 come) that hast not only had a prize in thy hands, 
 but wisdom given thee from above to make use of 
 it, and art one who (whilst others are seeking to 
 make this world and hell together sure to them¬ 
 selves) spendest thy time, and makest it thy only 
 business, to make sure of the one thing necessary, 
 and heaven to thy soul, I shall lay two or three 
 things before thy thoughts. 
 
 First. Walk with a fixed eye upon the world to 
 come. Look not at the things that are seen, that 
 are temporal, but at the things which are not seen, 
 that are eternal. 2 Co.iv. is. A Christian’s eye should 
 be upon his journey’s end, as our Lord Jesus, who 
 for the joy that was set before him, endured the 
 cross. He. xii. 2 . When the stones flew about 
 Stephen’s ears, his eyes were lifted up to heaven, 
 and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on 
 the right hand of God. Ac. vii. 55, 56 . What though 
 thou at present mayest lie at the rich man’s gates, 
 yet a few days will translate thee into Abraham’s 
 bosom. Though Israel had a sharp voyage through 
 the wilderness, yet Caleb and Joshua, men of excel¬ 
 lent spirits, had their eye upon the good land they 
 were going to. Though graceless souls are too dull 
 sighted to see afar off (2 Pe. i. 9). yet thou that hast 
 received the unction from above, dost in some mea¬ 
 sure know what is the hope of thy calling, and what 
 is the riches of the glory of his inheritance in the 
 saints. 
 
 Secondly. Be satisfied with thy present condition, 
 though it be afflictive, for it shall not last always. 
 Thy sorrows shall be short, and thy joys long; roll 
 thyself upon the Lord, for there is a heaven will 
 pay for all; Christ first endured the cross before 
 he wore the crown. David, before he was a king, 
 was a shepherd. The poor man spoken of in this 
 ensuing treatise, before he was carried into heaven, 
 had experiences of sorrow and sufferings on earth. 
 Let the flesh be silent in passing judgment on the 
 dispensations of God towards thee, and the men of 
 this world, in this present life. David, by prying 
 too far herein with his own wisdom, had almost 
 caught a fall. Pb. lxxiii. Though God’s judgments 
 may be too deep for our reason to dive into, yet 
 are they always righteous, and his paths mercy 
 and truth to those that keep his covenants. Ps.xxv. 10 . 
 When Jeremiah would debate with the Lord con¬ 
 cerning his judgments in the wicked’s prosperity. 
 
672 
 
 JOHN GIFFORD TO THE READER. 
 
 lie would lay tliis down as an indubitable truth, 
 that his judgments were righteous. Je. xii. 1 . And 
 3iis end was not to charge God, but to learn un¬ 
 derstanding of him in the way of his judgments; 
 and although the ways of his providence may be 
 dark to his people, that they cannot discern his 
 footsteps, yet are they always consistent with his 
 everlasting covenant, and the results of the favour 
 lie bears to them. If the wicked flourish like the 
 grass, it is that they should be destroyed for ever, 
 ra. xcii. 7 . And if the godly have many a wave beat¬ 
 ing upon them, yet will the Lord command his 
 loving-kindness in the day time. Ps. xiu. 7, 8. And, 
 after a little while being tossed to and fro in these 
 boisterous waves, they shall arrive at the heavenly 
 haven, this world being not their resting-place, but 
 there remains one for them. He. iv. 9 . 
 
 Thirdly. Let the faith and hopes of a glorious 
 deliverance get thy heart up above thy present 
 sufferings, that thou mayest glory in tribulation 
 who hast ground of rejoicing in hope of the glory 
 of God. Ro. v. 2, 3. For whatsoever thy present 
 grievances are, whether outward afflictions, or in¬ 
 ward temptations, this may be thy consolation 
 that a few days will rid thee of them; when thou 
 shaft sigh no more, complain no more, but those 
 shall be turned into praises. Thou hast (if I may 
 so call it) all thy hell here; let thy life be expired, 
 and thy misery is ended ; thy happiness begins, 
 where wicked men’s end; and when thine is once 
 began, it shall have no more end. 
 
 Reader, I have an advertisement to thee con¬ 
 cerning the following discourse, and the author of 
 it. Thou hast in the discourse many things of 
 choice consideration presented to thee in much 
 plainness, evidence, and authority; the replications 
 are full, the applications are natural. Be not of¬ 
 fended at his plain and downright language, it is 
 for the discharge of the author’s conscience, and 
 thy profit, besides the subject necessarily leads him 
 to it. It is a mercy to be dealt thoroughly and 
 plainly with in the matters of thy soul. We have 
 too many that sow pillows under men’s elbows, and 
 too few who, dealing plainly, divide to every man 
 his portion. Read it not to pick quarrels with it, 
 but to profit by it; and let not prejudice either 
 against the author, or manner of delivery, cause 
 thee to stumble and fall at the truth. Prejudice 
 will both blind the eyes that it shall not see the 
 truth, and close it in with it, and make them too 
 quick-sighted, either to make faults where there is 
 none, or to greaten them where they are; and so 
 cause the reader to turn the edge against the 
 author or his work, that should be turned upon his 
 own heart. It is marvellous to see how the truth 
 is quarrelled at that comes from one, that would 
 he easily received if it did drop from another; and 
 I doubt not, if this book had some other hand at 
 
 it, there is scarce any expression that may be now 
 carpt at by some, but would have been swallowed 
 without straining. We are now fallen into such an 
 age (the good Lord help us) that truth, upon its 
 own account, can challenge but little acceptance, 
 except the author be liked, or his lines painted with 
 his own wit. But certainly truth is of so excellent 
 a nature, of such singular advantage, and of so 
 royal a descent, that it deserves entertainment for 
 itself, and that not in our houses or heads only, but 
 in our hearts too. Whatsoever the hand is that 
 brings it, or the form that it appears in, men ac¬ 
 count gold worth receiving, whatsoever the messeu- 
 ger is that brings it, or the vessel that holds it. 
 
 If thou meetest (reader) with any passage that , 
 seems doubtful unto thee, let love that thinks no 
 evil put the best construction upon it, and do not 
 hastily condemn what thou canst not presently 
 yield to ; or if any expression thou meetest with 
 may (haply) offend thee, do not throw aside the 
 whole, and resolve to read of it no more; for though 
 some one may offend thee, yet others (I hope) may 
 affect thee; or if there be that which some may 
 call tautology, be not displeased at it; for that word 
 that may not fasten upon thy heart in one page, 
 may in another; and although it may be grievous 
 to thy eye (if thou beest nice and curious), yet bear 
 with it, if it may be profitable to thy soul. 
 
 Concerning the author (whatsoever the censures 
 and reports of many are) I have this to say, that 
 I verily believe God hath counted him faithful, and 
 put him into the ministry; and though his outward 
 condition and former employment was mean, and 
 his human learning small, yet is he one that hath 
 acquaintance with God, and taught by his Spirit, 
 and hath been used in his hand to do souls good; 
 for to my knowledge there are divers who have 
 felt the power of the word delivered by him; and 
 I doubt not but that many more may, if the Lord 
 continue him in his work; he is not like unto your 
 drones, that will suck the sweet, but do no work. 
 For he hath laid forth himself to the utmost of his 
 strength, taking all advantages to make known to 
 others what he himself hath received of God, and 
 1 fear this is one reason why the archers have shot 
 so sorely at him; for by his and others’ industry 
 in their Master’s work, their slothfulness hath been 
 reproved, and the eyes of many have been opened 
 to see a difference between those that are sent of 
 God and those that run before they are sent. And 
 that he is none of those light fanatic spirits that 
 our age abounds withal, this following discourse, 
 together with his former, that have been brought 
 to public view, will testify ; for among other things 
 that may bear record to him herein, you shall find 
 him magnifying and exalting the Holy Scriptures, 
 and largely showing the worth, excellency, and 
 usefulness of them. 
 
THE AUTHOR TO THE READER. 
 
 673 
 
 And yet surely if thou shalt (notwithstanding 
 this) stumble at his meanness and want of human 
 learning, thou wilt declare thine unacquaintance 
 with God s declared method, who to perfect his 
 own praise, and to still the enemy and avenger, 
 makes choice of babes and sucklings, and in their 
 mouths ordaineth strength. Fs. viii. 2. Though men 
 that have a great design, do, and must make use 
 of those that in reason are most likely to effect it, 
 yet must the Lord do so too ? Then instruments 
 (not himself) would carry away the praise; but that 
 no flesh should glory in his presence, he hath chosen 
 the foolish things of the world, to confound the 
 wise, and base things of the world, and things that 
 are despised, hath God chosen. 1 Co. i. 27, 2 s, 23 . 
 Cast thine eye back to the beginning of the gospel 
 dispensation (which surely, if at any time, should 
 have come forth in the wisdom and glory of the 
 world), and thou shalt see what method the Lord 
 did take at the first to exalt bis son Jesus: he goes 
 
 not amongst the Jewish rabbies, nor to the schools 
 of learning, to fetch out his gospel preachers, but 
 to the trades, and those most contemptible too; yet 
 let not any from hence conceive that I undervalue 
 the gifts and graces of such who have been, or now 
 are endued with them, nor yet speak against learn¬ 
 ing being kept in its place; but my meaning is, 
 that those that are learned should not despise those 
 that are not; or those that are not, should not de¬ 
 spise those that are, who are faithful in the Lord’s 
 work: and therefore being about to leave thee, I 
 shall leave with thee two Scriptures to be consid¬ 
 ered of. The one is Jn. xiii. 20, Verilv, verily, I say 
 unto you, he that receiveth whomsoever I send 
 (mark whomsoever) receiveth me; and he that re¬ 
 ceiveth me, receiveth him that sent me. The other 
 is Lu. x. 16 , He that heareth you, heareth me; and 
 he that despiseth you, despiseth me; and he that 
 despiseth me, despiseth him that sent me. 
 
 I G. 
 
 THE AUTHOR TO THE READER. 
 
 Friend, because it is a dangerous thing to be walk¬ 
 ing towards the place of darkness and anguish; 
 and again, because it is (notwithstanding) the 
 journey that most of the poor souls in the world 
 are taking, and that with delight and gladness, as 
 if there was the only happiness to be found, 1 
 have therefore thought it my duty, being made 
 sensible of the danger that will befal those that 
 fall therein, for the preventing' of thee, 0 thou poor 
 man or woman! to tell thee, by opening this par¬ 
 able, what sad success those souls have had, and 
 are also like to have, that have been, or shall be 
 found persevering therein. 
 
 Y\ e use to count him a friend that will forewarn 
 his neighbour of the danger, when he knoweth 
 thereof, and doth also see that the way his neigh¬ 
 bour is walking in doth lead right thereto, especially 
 when we think that our neighbour may be either 
 ignorant or careless of his way. Why friend, it 
 may be, nay twenty to one, but thou hast been, ever 
 since thou didst come into the world, with thy back 
 towards heaven, and thy face towards hell; and 
 thou, it may be, either through ignorance or care¬ 
 lessness, which is as bad, if not worse, hast been 
 running full hastily that way ever since. Why 
 friend? 1 beseech thee put a little stop to thy 
 earnest race, and take a view of what entertain¬ 
 ment thou art like to have, if thou do in deed and 
 in truth persist in this thy course. Friend, thy 
 way leads ‘down to death,’ and thy ‘ steps take 
 hold on hell.’ Fr. v. 5. It may be the path indeed 
 is pleasant to the flesh, but the end thereof will be 
 VOL. III. 
 
 bitter to thy soul. Hark, dost thou not hear the 
 bitter cries of them that are but newly gone before, 
 saying, Let him ‘ dip the tip of his finger in water, 
 and cool my tongue; for I am tormented in this 
 flame ? ’ Lu. xvi. 24. Dost thou not hear them say, 
 Send out from the dead, to prevent my father, my 
 brother, and my father’s house, from coming ‘into 
 this place of torment?’ Shall not then these 
 mournful groans pierce thy flinty heart? Wilt 
 thou stop thine ears, and shut thy eyes? And wilt 
 thou not regard? Take warning and stop thy 
 journey before it be too late. Wilt thou be like 
 the silly fly, that is not quiet unless she be either 
 entangled in the spider’s web, or burned in the 
 candle ? Wilt thou be like the bird that hasteth 
 to the snare of the fowler? Wilt thou be like that 
 simple one named in the seventh of Proverbs, that 
 will be drawn to the slaughter by the cord of a silly 
 lust ? 0 sinner, sinner, there are better things 
 
 than hell to be had, and at a cheaper rate by the 
 thousandth part! 0! there is no comparison, there 
 
 is heaven, there is God, there is Christ, there is 
 communion with an innumerable company of saints 
 and angels. Hear the message then that God doth 
 send, that Christ doth send, that saints do brim>- 
 
 O' 
 
 nay, that the dead do send unto thee : ‘ I pray 
 thee, therefore, that thou wouldest send him to my 
 father’s house‘if one went unto them from the 
 dead they would repent.’ ‘ How long, ye simple ones, 
 will ye love simplicity? And the scorners delight 
 in their scorning? And fools hate knowledge?’ 
 ‘Turn you at my reproof: behold,’ saith God. • I 
 
 85 
 
674 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM IIELL, OR 
 
 will pour out my Spirit unto you, I will make known 
 my words unto you,’ I say, hear this voice, 0 
 silly one, and turn and live, thou sinful soul, lest he 
 make thee hear that other saying, But, ‘ because 
 I have called, and ye refused, I have stretched out 
 my hand, and no man regarded ; I also will laugh 
 at your calamity, I will mock when your fear 
 eometli.’ Pr. i. 22 - 26 . 
 
 0 poor soul, if God and Christ did [thus] with 
 thee for thine harm, it w r ould be another matter; 
 then if thou didst refuse, thou mightest have some 
 excuse to make, or fault to find, and ground to 
 make delays. But this is for thy profit, for thy 
 advantage, for the pardoning of thy sins, the sal¬ 
 vation of thy soul, the delivering of thee from hell 
 fire, from the wrath to come, from everlasting burn¬ 
 ings, into favour with God, Christ, and communion 
 with all happiness, that is so indeed. 
 
 But it may be thou wilt say, All that hath been 
 spoken to in this discourse is but a parable, and 
 parables are no realities. I could put thee off with 
 this answer, That though it be a parable, yet it 
 is a truth, and not a lie; and thou shalt find 
 it so too, to thy cost, if thou shalt be found a 
 slighter of God, Christ, and the salvation of thy 
 own soul. 
 
 But secondly, know for certain, that the things 
 signified by parables are wonderful realities. 0 
 what a glorious reality was there signified by that 
 parable, ‘ The kingdom of heaven is like unto a 
 net that was cast into the sea,’ &c. Signifying, 
 that sinners of all sorts, of all nations, should be 
 brought into God’s kingdom, by the net of the 
 gospel. And 0! how real a thing shall the other 
 part thereof be, when it is fulfilled, which saith, 
 And 4 when it was full they drew to shore, and 
 gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad 
 away. ’ Mat. xiii. 47, 48 . Signifying the mansions of 
 glory that the saints should have, and also the re¬ 
 jection that God will give to the ungodly, and to 
 sinners. And also that parable, what a glorious 
 reality is there in it, which saith, 4 Except a corn 
 
 of "wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth 
 alone; but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.’ 
 Jn. xii. 24. To signify that unless Jesus Christ did 
 indeed spill his blood, and die the cursed death, he 
 should abide alone; that is, have never a soul into 
 glory with him; but if he died, he should bring 
 forth much fruit; that is, save many sinners. And 
 also how real a truth there was in that parable 
 concerning the Jews putting Christ to death, which 
 the poor dispersed Jews can best experience to their 
 cost; for they have been almost ever since a 
 banished people, and such as have had God’s sore 
 displeasure wonderfully manifested against them, 
 according to the truth of the parable. Mat, xxi. 33-41. 
 0 therefore, for Jesus Christ’s sake, do not slight 
 the truth, because it is discovered in a parable! 
 For by this argument thou mayest also, nay, thou 
 wilt slight almost all the things that our Lord 
 Jesus Christ did speak; for he spake them for the 
 most part, if not all, in parables. Why should it 
 be said of thee as it is said of some, These things 
 are spoken to them that are without ‘ in parables, 
 that seeing they might not see, and hearing they 
 might not understand ? ’ Lu. viii. 10 . I say, take heed 
 of being a quarreller against Christ’s parables, lest 
 Christ also object against the salvation of thy soul 
 at the j udgment day. 
 
 Friend, I have no more to say to thee now. If 
 thou dost love me pray for me, that my God would 
 not forsake me, nor take his Holy Spirit from me; 
 and that God would fit me to do and suffer what 
 shall be from the world or devil inflicted upon me. 
 I must tell thee, the world rages, they stamp and 
 shake their heads, and fain they would be doing; 
 the Lord help me to take all they shall do with 
 patience; and wdien they smite the one cheek, to 
 turn the other to them, that I may do as Christ 
 hath bidden me; for then the Spirit of God, and 
 of glory, shall rest upon me. Farewell. 
 
 I am thine, if thou be not ashamed to own me, 
 because of my low and contemptible descent in the 
 world. 1 John Bunyan. 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, 
 
 OR 
 
 THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 Luke xvi. 19—31. 
 
 19 There was a certain rich, man which was clothed in purple 
 and fine linen, and fared sumptuously every day. 20 And 
 there was a certain beggar, named Lazarus, which was 
 laid at his gate, full of sores, 21 And desiring to he fed 
 with the crumbs which fell from the rich man’s table : 
 moreover the dogs came and licked his sores. 22 And it 
 came to pass that the beggar died, and was carried by 
 the angels into Abraham’s bosom: the rich man also died, 
 
 and was buried; 23 And in hell he lifted up his eyes, be¬ 
 ing in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus 
 in his bosom. 24 And he cried and said, Father Abraham, 
 have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip 
 the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue; for I 
 am tormented in this flame. 25 But Abraham said, Son, 
 remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst thy good 
 
 1 In the second and subsequent editions, this was altered to 
 ‘ I am thine to serve in the Lord Jesus.’—(E d.) 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL 
 
 G75 
 
 tliing3, and likewise Lazarus evil things: but now he is 
 comforted, and thou art tormented. 26 And, beside all 
 this, between us and you there is a great gulf fixed; so 
 that they which would pass from hence to you cannot; 
 neither can they pass to us that would, come from thence. 
 27 Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that thou 
 wouldest send him to my father’s house; 28 For I have 
 five brethren ; that he may testify unto them, lest they 
 also come into this place of torment. 29 Abraham saith 
 uuto him. They have Moses and the prophets ; let them 
 hear them. 50 And he said, Nay, father Abraham: but 
 if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. 
 81 And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the 
 prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose 
 from the dead. 
 
 Tins Scripture was not spoken by our Lord Jesus 
 Christ to show you the state of two single per¬ 
 sons only, as some, through ignorance of the 
 drift of Christ in his parables, do dream ; but to 
 show you the state of the godly and ungodly to the 
 world’s end; as is clear to him that is of an un¬ 
 derstanding heart. For he spake them to the end 
 that after generations should take notice thereof, 
 and fear, lest they also fell into the same condition. 
 Now in my discourse upon these words I shall not 
 be tedious; but as briefly as I may, I shall pass 
 through the several verses, and lay you down 
 some of the several truths contained therein. And 
 the Lord grant that they may be profitable, and 
 of great advantage to those that read them, or 
 hear them read. 
 
 The 10th and 20th verses also, I shall not spend 
 much time upon, only give you three or four short 
 hints, and so pass to the next verses; for they are 
 the words I do intend most especially to insist upon. 
 
 The 19th, 20th, and 21st verses run thus :— 
 - There was a certain rich man which was clothed 
 in purple and fine linen, and fared’ deliciously or 
 * sumptuously every day. And there was a cer¬ 
 tain beggar, named Lazarus, which was laid at his 
 gate full of sores.’ 
 
 ~ First. If these verses had been spoken by Jesus 
 Christ, and no more, all the world would have gone 
 near to have cast a wrong interpretation on them. 
 1 say, if Jesus had said only thus much, ‘There was 
 a certain rich man’which ‘fared sumptuously daily, 
 and a certain beggar laid at his gate full of sores 
 the Avorld would have made this conclusion of them 
 —the rich man was the happy man; for, at the first 
 view, it doth represent such a thing ; but take all 
 together, that is, read the whole parable, and you 
 shall find that there is no man in a worse condition 
 than he; as I shall clearly hold forth afterward. 
 
 Second. Again, if a man would judge of men ac¬ 
 cording to outward appearance, he shall ofttimes 
 take his mark amiss. Here is a man to outward ap¬ 
 pearance appears the only blessed man, better by 
 half than the beggar, inasmuch as he is rich, the 
 beggar poor; he is well clothed, but peradventure 
 the beggar is naked ; he hath good food, but the 
 
 beggar would be glad of dog’s meat. * And de¬ 
 siring to be fed with the crumbs which fell from 
 the rich man’s table.* The rich man fares well 
 every day, but the beggar must be glad of a bit 
 when he can get it. 0 ! who would not be in the 
 rich man’s state ? A wealthy man, sorts of new 
 suits and dainty dishes every day ; enough to 
 make one who minds nothing but his belly, and his 
 back, and his lusts, to say, 0 that I were in that 
 man’s condition ! 0 that I had about me as that 
 
 man has ! Then I should live a life indeed; then 
 should I have heart’s-ease good store ; then I 
 should live pleasantly, and might say to my soul, 
 ‘Soul,* be of good cheer, ‘eat, drink, and be 
 merry.’ Lu. xii. 19. Thou hast everything plenty, 
 and art in a most blessed condition. 
 
 I say, this might be, aye, and is, the conclusion 
 with them that judge according to outward appear¬ 
 ance. But if the whole parable be well considered, 
 you will see, Lu. xvi. 15, that which is had in high 
 estimation with men is an abomination in the smlit 
 
 O 
 
 of God. And again, Jn. xvi. 20-22, that condition, 
 that is the saddest condition, according to out¬ 
 ward appearance, is ofttimes the most excellent ; 
 for the beggar had ten thousand degrees the best 
 of it, though, to outward appearance, his state was 
 the saddest ;* from whence we shall observe thus 
 much :—1. That those who judge according to 
 outward appearance, do for the most part judge 
 amiss. Jn. vii. 24. 2. That they who look upon their 
 outward enjoyments to be token of God’s special 
 grace unto them, are also deceived. lie. m. 17 . 
 For as it is here in the parable, a man of wealtli 
 and a child of the devil may make but one person; 
 or a man may have abundance of outward enjoy¬ 
 ments, and yet be carried by the devils into eternal 
 burnings. Lu. xii. 20. But this is the trap in which 
 the devil hath caught many thousands of poor 
 souls, namely, by getting them to judge according 
 to outward appearance, or according to God’s out¬ 
 ward blessings. 
 
 Do but ask a poor, carnal, covetous wretch, how 
 we should know a man to be in a happy state, and 
 he will answer, those that God blesseth, and giv- 
 eth abundance of this world unto ; when, for the 
 most part, they are they that are the cursed men. 
 Alas ! poor men, they are so ignorant as to think 
 that because a man is increased in outward things, 
 and that by a small stock, therefore God doth love 
 that man with a special love, or else he would 
 never do so much for him, never bless him so, and 
 prosper the work of his hands. Ah! poor soul, 
 it is the rich man that goes to hell. And ‘the 
 rich man died,’ and in hell, mark, ‘ in hell he lift 
 up his eyes,’ &c. 
 
 1 ‘ Sad’ frequently occurs in this treatise; it is from the 
 Saxon, sedan —set, fixed, gloomy, grievous, mournful.— (Ed.) 
 
676 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 Methinks to see how the great ones of the world 
 will go strutting up and down the streets sometimes, 
 it makes me wonder. Surely they look upon them¬ 
 selves to be the only happy men ; but it is because 
 they judge according to outward appearance; they 
 look upon themselves to be the only blessed men, 
 when the Lord knows the generality are left out of 
 that blessed condition. ‘ Not many wise men after 
 the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are 
 called.'' i Co. i. 26. Ah ! did they that do now so 
 brag, that nobody dare scarce look on them, but 
 believe this, it would make them hang down their 
 heads and cry, 0 give me a Lazarus’ portion. 
 
 I might here enlarge very much, but I shall not; 
 only thus much I shall say to you that have much 
 of this world, Have a care that you have not your 
 portion in this world. Take heed that it be not 
 said to you hereafter, when you would very wil¬ 
 lingly have heaven, Remember in your lifetime you 
 had your good things; in your lifetime you had 
 your portion. Ps. xvii. 14 . 
 
 And friend, thou that seekest after this world, 
 and desirest riches, let me ask this question, 
 Wouldst thou be content that God should put 
 thee off with a portion in this life ? Wouldst thou 
 be glad to be kept out of heaven with a back well 
 clothed, and a bellv well filled with the dainties of 
 this world ? Wouldst thou be glad to have all 
 thy good things in thy lifetime, to have thy heaven 
 to last no longer than while thou dost live in this 
 world? Wouldst thou be willing to be deprived 
 of eternal happiness and felicity ? If you say no, 
 then have a care of the world and thy sins; have 
 a care of desiring to be a rich man, lest thy table be 
 made a snare unto thee. Ps. xix. 22. Lest the wealth 
 of this world do bar thee out of glory. For, as 
 the apostle saith, ‘ They that will be rich, fall into 
 temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and 
 hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and 
 perdition.’ iTi. vi. 9. Thus much in general; but 
 now more particularly. 
 
 These two men here spoken of, as I said, do hold 
 forth to us the state of the godly and ungodly; the 
 beggar holdeth forth the godly, and the rich man 
 the ungodly. * There was a certain rich man.' 
 
 But why are the ungodly held forth under the 
 notion of a rich man? 1. Because Christ would 
 not have them look too high, as I said before, but 
 that those who have riches should have a care 
 that they be not all their portion. Ja. i. 10-12. 1 Ti. 
 vi. 17. 2 . Because rich men are most liable to the 
 
 devil’s temptations; are most ready to be puffed 
 up with pride, stoutness, cares of this world, in 
 which things they spend most of their time in 
 lusts, drunkenness, wantonness, idleness, together 
 with the other works of the flesh ; for which things 
 sake, the wrath of God cometh on the children of 
 disobedience. Col. m. <». 3. Because he would com¬ 
 
 fort the hearts of his own, which are most com¬ 
 monly of the poorer sort; but God hath chosen 
 the poor, despised, and base things of this world. 
 
 1 Co. i. 26. Should God have set the rich man in 
 the blessed state, his children would have con¬ 
 cluded, being poor, that they had no share in the 
 life to come. 
 
 And again, had not God given such a discovery 
 of the sad condition of those that are for the most 
 part rich men, we should have had men concluded 
 absolutely that the rich are the blessed men. Nay, 
 albeit the Lord himself doth so evidently declare 
 that the rich ones of the world are, for the most 
 part, in the saddest condition, yet they, through 
 unbelief, or else presumption, do harden themselves, 
 and seek for the glory of this world as though the 
 Lord Jesus Christ did not mean as he said, or else 
 that he will say more than shall assuredly come to 
 pass; but let them know that the Lord hath a time 
 to fulfil that he had a time to declare, for the 
 scripture cannot be broken. Jn. x. 35. 
 
 But again, the Lord by this word doth not mean 
 those are ungodly who are rich in the world, and 
 no other, for then must all those that are poor, yet 
 graceless and vain men, be saved and delivered 
 from eternal vengeance, which would be contrary 
 to the Word of God, which saith that together 
 with the kings of the earth, and the great men, 
 and the chief captains, and the mighty men, there 
 are bondmen or servants, and slaves, that cry out 
 at the appearance of the Almighty God, and his 
 Son Jesus Christ, to judgment. Re. vi. 15. 
 
 So that though Christ doth say, ‘ There was a 
 certain rich man,’ yet you must understand he 
 meaneth all the ungodly, rich or poor. Nay, if 
 you will not understand it so now, you shall be 
 made to understand it to be so meant at the day 
 of Christ’s second coming, when all that are un¬ 
 godly shall stand at the left hand of Christ, with 
 pale faces and guilty consciences, with the vials of 
 the Almighty’s wrath ready to be poured out upon 
 them. Thus much in brief touching the 19th 
 verse. I might have observed other things from 
 it, but now I forbear, having other things to speak 
 of at this time. 
 
 Verse 20.—* And there was a certain beggar, named Lazarus, 
 winch was laid at his gate, full of sores.’ 
 
 This verse doth chiefly hold forth these things; 
 1. That the saints of God are a poor contemptible 
 people; * There was a certain beggar.’ If you 
 understand the word beggar to hold forth outward 
 poverty, or scarcity in outward things, such are 
 saints 1 of the Lord, for they are for the most part 
 a poor, despised, contemptible people. But if you 
 
 1 The first and second editions have ‘the saints,' instead of 
 ‘such are saints.’—(E d.) 
 
677 
 
 THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 allegorize it and interpret it thus, They are such 
 as beg earnestly for heavenly food; this is also 
 the spirit of the children of God, and it may be, 
 and is a truth in this sense, though not so na¬ 
 turally gathered from this scripture. 2. That 
 ‘ he was laid at his gate, full of sores.* These 
 words hold forth the distempers of believers, say¬ 
 ing he was ‘full of sores,’ which may signify the 
 many troubles, temptations, persecutions, and afflic¬ 
 tions in body and spirit which they meet withal 
 while they are in the world, but also the entertain¬ 
 ment they find at the hands of those ungodly ones 
 who live upon the earth. Whereas it is said, he 
 was ‘laid at his gate, full of sores.’ Mark, he 
 was laid at his gate, not in his house—that was 
 thought too good for him—but he was laid at his 
 gate, full of sores. From whence observe, (1.) That 
 the ungodly world do not desire to entertain and re¬ 
 ceive the poor saints of God into their houses. If 
 they must needs be somewhere near unto them, yet 
 they shall not come into their houses; shut them 
 out of doors; if they will needs be near us, let 
 them be at the gate. And he ‘was laid at his gate, 
 full of sores.’ (2.) Observe that the world are not 
 at all touched with the afflictions of God’s children 
 for all they are full of sores; a despised, afflicted, 
 tempted, persecuted people the world doth not 
 pity, no, but rather labour to aggravate their 
 trouble by shutting them out of doors; sink or 
 swim, what cares the world? They are resolved 
 to disown them ; they will give them no entertain¬ 
 ment: if the lying in the streets will do them any 
 good, if hard usage will do them any good, if to 
 be disowned, rejected, and shut out of doors by 
 the world will do them any good, they shall have 
 enough of that; but otherwise no refreshment, no 
 comfort from the world. And he ‘ was laid at his 
 gate, full of sores.’ 
 
 Verse 21.—‘And he desired to be fed with the crumbs which 
 fell from the rich man’s table: the dogs came also and 
 licked his sores.’ 
 
 Ly these words our Lord Jesus doth show us 
 the frame of a Christian’s heart, and also the heart 
 and carriage of worldly men towards the saints of 
 the Lord. The Christian’s heart is held forth by 
 this, that anything will content him while he is on 
 this side glory. And ‘ he desired to be fed with 
 the crumbsthe dogs’ meat, anything. I say a 
 Christian will be content with anything, if he have 
 but to keep life and soul together; as we used to say, 
 he is content, he is satisfied ; he hath learned—if lie 
 hath learned to be a Christian—to be content with 
 anything; as Paul saith, ‘ I have learned in what¬ 
 soever state I am, therewith to be content.’ Phi. 
 iv. li. He learns in all conditions to study to love 
 God, to walk with God, to give up himself to God; 
 and if the crumbs that fall from the rich man’s j 
 
 table will but satisfy nature and give him bodily 
 strength, that thereby he may be the more able to 
 walk in the way of God, be is contented. And he 
 ‘ desired to be fed with the crumbs that fell from 
 the rich man’s table.’ 1 But mark, he had them 
 not; you do not find that he had so much as a 
 crumb, or a scrap allowed unto him. No, then 
 the dogs will be beguiled, that must be preserved 
 for the dogs. From whence observe that the un¬ 
 godly world do love their dogs better than the 
 children of God. 2 You will say that is strange. 
 It is so indeed, yet it is true, as will be clearly 
 manifested; as, for instance, how many pounds 
 do some men spend in a year on their dogs, when 
 in the meanwhile the poor saints of God may starve 
 for hunger? They will build houses for their dogs, 
 when the saints must be glad to wander, and lodge 
 in dens and caves of the earth. He. xi. 33 . And if 
 they be in any of their houses for the hire thereof, 
 they will warn them out or eject them, or pull 
 down the house over their heads, rather than not 
 rid themselves of such tenants/ Again, some 
 men cannot go half a mile from home but they 
 must have dogs at their heels, but they can very 
 willingly go half a score miles without the society 
 of a Christian. Nay, if when they are busy with 
 their dogs they should chance to meet a Christian, 
 they would willingly shift him if they could. Thev 
 will go on the other side the hedge or the way rather 
 than they will have any society with him; and it* 
 at any time a child of God should come into a 
 house where there are but two or three ungodly 
 wretches, they do commonly wish either themselves 
 or the saint out of doors; and why so ? because 
 they cannot down 4 with the society of a Christian; 
 though if there come in at the same time a dog, 
 or a drunken swearing wretch, which is worse than 
 a dog, they will make him welcome; he shall sit 
 down with them and partake of their dainties. 
 And now tell me, you that love your sins and your 
 pleasures, had you not rather keep company with 
 a drunkard, a swearer, a strumpet, a thief, nay, a 
 dog, than with an honest-hearted Christian? If 
 you say no, what means your sour carriage to the 
 
 1 In quoting these passages, Mr. Bunyan has mixed the 
 Puritan version with that now authorized; very probably quot¬ 
 ing trom memory. His text is from the present version ; the 
 reader will see, by comparison, the different words employed 
 in the two translations.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Solemn truth! The heir of heaven and immortality has 
 to trudge the street in the foulest weather, while the sinner’s 
 lap-dog is held up to the carriage window, taken out for an 
 airing.—(E d.) 
 
 a Reader, this feeling yet remains. Christians have recently, 
 even in Scotland, had to meet in barns, or in the open air, lor 
 worship, because no landowner would sell or let a piece of 
 ground on which to build a place of worship.—(E d.) 
 
 4 Cannot down; will not receive, submit to, or feel pleasure 
 in. ‘ If a boy is hungry, bread by itself will down.’—Locke 
 on Education. ‘ Down and beg mercy of the Duke.’—Shaic- 
 speare.— (Ed.) 
 
4 « 
 
 
 people of God? Why do you look on them as if 
 you would eat them up? Yet at the very same 
 time if you can hut meet your dog, or a drunken 
 companion, you can fawn upon them, take acquaint¬ 
 ance with them, to the tavern or ale house with 
 them, if it be two or three times in a week. But 
 if the saints of God meet together, pray together, 
 and labour to edify one another, you will stay till 
 doomsday before you will look into the house where 
 they are. Ah ! friends, when all comes to all, you 
 will be found to love drunkards, strumpets, dogs, 
 anything, nay, to serve the devil, rather than to 
 hqve loving and friendly society with the saints of 
 God. 
 
 Moreover, ‘ the dogs came and licked his sores.’ 
 Here again you may see, not only the afflicted state 
 of the saints of God in this world, but also that 
 even dogs themselves, according to their kind, 
 are more favourable to the saints than the sinful 
 world; though the ungodly will have no mercy on 
 the saints, yet it is ordered so that these creatures, 
 dogs, lions, &c. will. Though the rich man would 
 not entertain him into his house, yet his dogs will 
 come and do him the best good they can, even to 
 lick his running sores. It was thus with Daniel 
 when the world was «mad against him, and would 
 have him thrown to the lions to be devoured, the 
 lions shut their mouths at him, or rather the Lord 
 did shut them up, so that there was not that hurt 
 befel to him as was desired by the adversaries. 
 Da. vL And this I am persuaded of, that would the 
 creatures do as some men -would have them, the 
 saints of God should not walk so quietly up and 
 down the streets and other places as they do. And 
 as I said before, so I say again, I am persuaded 
 that, at the day of judgment, many men’s con¬ 
 ditions and carriages will be so laid open, that it 
 will evidently appear they have been very merci¬ 
 less and mad against the children of God, inso¬ 
 much, that when the providence of God did fall 
 out so as to cross their expectation, they have 
 been very much offended thereat, as is very evi¬ 
 dently seen in them who set themselves to study 
 how to bring the saints into bondage, and to thrust 
 them into corners, as in these late years. Ps.xxxi.i3. 
 And because God hath in his goodness ordered 
 things otherwise, they have gnashed their teeth 
 thereat. 1 Hence then let the saints learn not to 
 commit themselves to their enemies; ‘ beware of 
 men.’ Mat. x. 17. They are very merciless men, and 
 will not so much favour you, if they can help it, as 
 you may suppose they may. Nay, unless the over¬ 
 ruling hand of God in goodness do order things 
 contrary to their natural inclination, they will not 
 favour you so much as a dog. 
 
 1 Alluding to the awful sufferings of Leighton, and all Chris¬ 
 tians of his time, under that bigoted demon in human shape, 
 Laud.— (Ed.) 
 
 Verse 22.-—'* And it came to pass that the beggar died, and 
 was carried by the angels into Abraham’s bosom: the 
 rich man also died, and was buried.' 
 
 The former verses do briefly hold forth the car¬ 
 riage of the ungodly in this life toward the saints. 
 Now this verse doth hold forth the departure, both 
 of the godly and ungodly, out of this life. 
 
 Where he said, * And it came to pass, that the 
 ben-o-ar died, and was carried - into Abraham’s 
 bosom,’ and ‘ the rich man also died ;’—the beggar 
 died, that represents the godly; and the rich man 
 died, that represents the ungodly. From whence 
 observe, neither godly nor ungodly must live always 
 without a change, either by death or judgment; 
 the good man died and the bad man died. That 
 scripture doth also back this truth, that good and 
 had must die, marvellous well, where it is said, 
 
 ‘ And it is appointed unto men once to die, hut 
 after this the judgment.’ He. ix. 27. 
 
 Mark, he doth not say it is so that men by chance 
 may die; which might beget, in the hearts of the 
 ungodly especially, some hope to escape the bitter¬ 
 ness of it. But he saith it is a thing most certain, 
 it is appointed; mark, ‘ it is appointed unto men 
 once to die, hut after this the judgment.’ God 
 hath decreed it, that since men have fallen from 
 that happy estate that God at the first did set 
 them in, they shall die. Ro. vi. 23. Now when it is 
 said the beggar died and the rich man died, part 
 of the meaning is they ceased to he any more in 
 this world; I say partly the meaning, but not al¬ 
 together. Though it he altogether the meaning 
 when some of the creatures die, yet it is but in 
 part the meaning when it is said that men, women, 
 or children die; for there is to them something 
 else to be said, more than barely agoing out of the 
 world. For if when unregenerate men and women 
 die there were an end of them, not only in this 
 world hut also in the world to come, they would 
 he happy over they will be now, for when ungodly 
 men and women die there is that to come after 
 death that will be very terrible to them, namely, 
 to be carried by the angels of darkness from their 
 death-beds to hell, there to be reserved to the 
 judgment of the great day, when both body and 
 soul shall meet and be united together again, and 
 made capable to undergo the uttermost vengeance 
 of the Almighty to all eternity. This is that, I 
 say, which doth follow a man that is not born 
 again, after death, as is clear from that in i re. m. 
 is, 19, where, before speaking of Christ being raised 
 again, by the power of his eternal Spirit, he saith, 
 By which, that is, by that Spirit, ‘ he went and 
 preached unto the spirits in prison.’ But what is 
 the meaning of this? Why, thus much, that those 
 souls who were once alive in the world in the time 
 or days in which Noah lived, being disobedient in 
 
 
 
 
 ”1 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL, 
 
 670 
 
 their times to the colls of God by his Spirit in 
 Noah, for so I understand it, was, according to 
 that which was foretold by that preacher, deprived 
 of life and overcome by the flood, and are now in 
 prison. Mark, he preached to the spirits in prison; 
 he doth not say, who were in prison, but to them 
 in, that is, now in prison, under chains of dark¬ 
 ness, reserved, or kept there in that prison, in 
 which now they are, ready, like villains in the 
 jail, to be brought before the judgment-seat of 
 Christ at the great day. But of this I shall speak 
 further by and by. 
 
 Now it this one truth, that men must die and 
 depart this world, and either enter into joy or else 
 into prison, to be reserved to the day of judg¬ 
 ment, were believed, we should not have so many 
 wantons walk up and down the streets as there 
 do, at least it would put a mighty check to their 
 filthy carriages, so that they would not, could not 
 walk so basely and sinfully as they do. Belshaz¬ 
 zar, notwithstanding he was so far from the fear 
 of God as he was, yet, when he did but see that 
 God was offended and threatened him for his wick¬ 
 edness, it made him hang down his head and knock 
 his knees together. Da. v. 5, 6 . If you read the 
 verses before you will find he was careless, and 
 satisfying his lusts in drinking and playing the 
 wanton with his concubines. But so soon as he 
 did perceive the finger of a hand-writing, * then/ 
 saitli the scripture, ‘ the king’s countenance was 
 changed, and his thoughts troubled him, so that 
 the joints of his loins Avere loosed, and his knees 
 smote one against another.’ And when Paul told 
 Felix of righteousness, temperance, and judgment 
 to come, it made him tremble. And let me tell 
 thee, soul, Avhosoever thou art, that if thou didst 
 but verily believe that thou must die and come 
 into the judgment, it Avould make thee turn over a 
 neAV leaf. But this is the misery, the devil doth 
 labour by all means as to keep out other things 
 that are good, so to keep out of the heart, as much 
 as in him lies, the thoughts of passing from this 
 life into another world; for he knows, if he can 
 but keep them from the serious thoughts of death, 
 he shall the more easily keep them in their sins, 
 and so from closing with Jesus Christ; as Job 
 saitli, ‘ Their houses are safe from fear, neither is 
 the rod of God upon them.’ Which makes them 
 say to God, ‘ Depart from us, for we desire not 
 the knowledge of thy av ays.’ Jobxxi. 14. Because 
 there is no fear of death and judgment to come, 
 therefore they do put off God and his ways, and 
 spend their days in their sins, and in a moment, 
 that is, before they are aware, go down to the 
 graA r e. Job xxi. 17. And thus it fared also with the 
 man spoken of in La. xiL 20. The man, instead of 
 thinking of death, he thought how he might make 
 his barns bigger. But, in the midst of his busi¬ 
 
 ness in the Avorld, he lost his soul before he Avas 
 aware, supposing that death had been many years 
 off. But God said unto him, ‘ Thou fool,’ then 
 troublest thyself about things of this life, thou 
 puttest off the thoughts of departing this Avorld, 
 Avhen this night thy soul shall be taken from thee; 
 or, this night, they, that is, the devil, will fetch 
 away thy soul from thee. And here it comes to 
 pass, men’s not being exercised Avith the thoughts 
 of departing this life, that they are, so unexpectedly 
 to themselves and their neighbours, taken aivay 
 from the pleasures and profits, yea, and all the en¬ 
 joyments they busy themselves Avithal Avliile they 
 live in this world. And hence it is again, that 
 you have some in your towns and cities that are 
 so suddenly taken aAvay, some from haunting the 
 ale-houses, others from haunting the Avhore-houses, 
 others from .playing and gaming, others from the 
 cares and covetous desires after thisivorld, unlooked 
 for as by themselves or their companions. Hence 
 it is also that men do so wonder at such tidings 
 as this. There is such a one dead, such a one is 
 departed; it is because they do so little consider 
 both the transitoriness of themselves and their 
 neighbours. For had they but their thoughts well 
 exercised about the shortness of this life, and the 
 danger that will befall such as do miss of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, it would make them more wary and 
 sober, and spend more time in the service of God, 
 and be more delighted and diligent in inquiring 
 after the Lord Jesus, who is the deliverer ‘from 
 the wrath to come. ’ 1 Th. i. 10. For, as I said before, 
 it is evident, that they who live after the flesh in 
 the lusts thereof, do not really and seriously think 
 on death, and the judgment that doth follow after: 
 neither do they indeed endeavour so to do; for did 
 they, it would make them say with holy Job, ‘All 
 the days of my appointed time will I wait till my 
 change come.’ Jobxiv. 14. And as I said before, that 
 not only the wicked, but also the godly have their 
 time to depart this life. And the beggar died. 
 The saints of the Lord, they must be deprived of 
 this life also, they must yield up the ghost into the 
 hands of the Lord their God; they must also be 
 separated from their Avives, children, husbands, 
 friends, goods, and all that they have in the world. 
 For God hath decreed it; it is appointed, namely, 
 by the Lord, for men once to die, and ‘ we must 
 all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ,’ as 
 it is, 2 Co. v. 10, 11. 
 
 But it may be objected, if the godly do die as 
 well as the Avicked, and if the saints must appear 
 before the judgment-seat as Avell as the sinners, 
 then Avhat advantage have the godly more than the 
 ungodly, and Iioav can the saints bo in a better 
 condition than the Avicked ? 
 
 Answ. Read the 22d verse over again, and you 
 will find a marvellous difference between them, as 
 
6S0 
 
 L FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 much as is between heaven and hell, everlasting 
 joy and everlasting torments; for you find, that 
 when the beggar died, which represents the godly, 
 he was carried by the angels into Abraham s 
 bosom, or into everlasting joy. Ps. i. But the un¬ 
 godly are not so, but are hurried by the devils into 
 the bottomless pit, drawn away in their wickedness,^ 
 
 Pr. xiv. 32, for he saith, ‘ And in hell he lifted up his 
 eyes.’ When the ungodly do die, their misery 
 beginneth, for then appear the devils, like so many 
 lions, waiting every moment till the soul depart 
 from the body. Sometimes they are very visible 
 to the dying party, 1 but sometimes more invisible; 
 but always this is certain, they never miss of the 
 soul if it do die out of the Lord Jesus Christ; but 
 do hale it away to the prison, as I said before, 
 there to be tormented and reserved until that great 
 and general day of judgment, at which day they 
 must, body and soul, receive a final sentence from 
 the righteous Judge, and from that time be shut 
 out from the presence of God into everlasting woe 
 and distress. But the godly, when the time of 
 their departure is at hand, then also are the angels 
 of the Lord at hand; yea, they are ready waiting 
 upon the soul to conduct it safe into Abraham s 
 bosom. I do not say but the devils are ofttimes 
 very busy doubtless, and attending the saints in 
 their sickness: ay, and no question but they would 
 willingly deprive the soul of glory. But here is 
 the comfort, as the devils come from hell to devour 
 tho soul, if it be possible, at its departure, so the 
 ano-els of the Lord come from heaven, to watch 
 over and conduct the soul, in spite of the devil, 
 safe into Abraham’s bosom. 
 
 David had the comfort of this, and speaks it 
 forth for the comfort of his brethren, Ps.xxxiv. 7 , say¬ 
 ing, ‘ The angel of the Lord encampeth round about 
 them that fear him, and delivereth them.’ Mark, 
 the angel of the Lord encampeth round about his 
 children, to deliver them. From what? From 
 their enemies, of which the devil is not the least. 
 This is an excellent comfort at any time, to have 
 the holy angels of God to attend a poor man or 
 woman; but especially it is comfortable in the time 
 of distress, at the time of death, when the devils 
 beset the soul with all the power that hell can af¬ 
 ford them. But now it may be, that the glorious 
 angels of God do not appear at the first, to the 
 
 1 It is a very ancient and prevailing opinion, that man is 
 always attended by invisible spirits, whose powers or mode of 
 intercourse with our spirits is unknown. These attendants are 
 most active at the hour of death. They cannot be seen unless 
 the eyes are made to possess new or miraculous powers. It 
 may he that, when dying, the spirit, before it entirely quits its 
 mortal habitation, has a glimpse of spiritual existences. If 
 so, how awful for the sinner to see the infernal demons ready 
 to drag away his soul; hut most joyful for the Christian to 
 embrace his celestial guides. This is illustrated in the Pilgrim's 
 Progress , during Christian’s conllict at the hour of death.— 
 Vol. iii., p. 163—(Ed.) 
 
 view of the soul; nay, rather hell stands before it, 
 and the devils ready, as if they would carry it 
 thither. But this is the comfort, the angels do 
 always appear at the last, and will not fail the soul, 
 but will carry it safe into Abraham’s bosom. Ah 
 friends, consider, here is an ungodly man upon his 
 death-bed, and he hath none to speak for him, none 
 to speak comfort unto him; but it is not so with 
 the children of God, for they have the Spirit to 
 comfort them. Here is the ungodly, and they 
 have no Christ to pray for their safe conduct to 
 glory ; but the saints have an intercessor. Jn. xvii. 9 . 
 Here is the world, when they die, they have none 
 of the angels of God to attend upon them; but the 
 saints have their company. In a word, the uncon¬ 
 verted person, when he dieth, he sinks into the 
 bottomless pit; but the saints, when they die, do 
 ascend with, and by the angels, into Abraham s 
 bosom, or into unspeakable glory. Lu. xxiii. 43 . 
 
 Ao’ain, it is said, that the rich man when he 
 died was buried or put into the earth; but when 
 the beggar died, he was carried by the angels into 
 Abraham’s bosom. The one is a very excellent 
 style, where he saith he was carried by angels 
 into Abraham’s bosom; it denotes the excellent 
 condition of the saints of God, as I said before; 
 and not only so, but also the preciousness of the 
 death of the saints in the eyes of the Lord. Ps. cxvi. 15. 
 That after-generations may see how precious in the 
 sight of the Lord the death of his saints is, when 
 he saith they are carried by the angels into Abra¬ 
 ham’s bosom. 
 
 Thus many times the Lord adorneth the death 
 and departure of his saints, to hold forth unto 
 after-generations, how excellent they are in his 
 eyes. It is said of Enoch, that God took him; of 
 Abraham, that he died in a good old age; of Moses, 
 that the Lord buried him; of Elijah, that he was 
 taken up into heaven; that the saints sleep in Jesus; 
 that they die in the Lord; that they rest from their 
 labour, that their works follow them; that they 
 are under the altar; that they are with Christ; that 
 they are in light; that they are to come with the 
 Lord Jesus to judge the world. All which sayings 
 signify thus much, that to die a saint is very great 
 honour and dignity. But the ungodly are not so. 
 The rich or ungodly die and are buried; he is carried 
 from his dwelling to the grave, and there he is 
 buried, hid in the dust; and his body doth not so 
 fast moulder and come to nought there, but his 
 name doth stink as fast in the world, as saith the 
 holy scripture: ‘ The name of the wicked shall rot. 
 Pr. x. 7. And indeed, the names of the godly are 
 not in so much honour after their departure, but 
 the wicked and their names do as much rot. What 
 a dishonour to posterity was the death of Balaam, 
 Agag, Ahithophel, Hainan, J udas, Herod, with the 
 rest of their companions ? 
 
TIIE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 6S1 
 
 r I lius the wicked have their names written in 
 the earth, and they do perish and rot, and the 
 name of the saints do cast forth a dainty savour to 
 following generations; and that the Lord Jesus 
 doth signify where he saith the godly are ‘carried 
 by the angels into Abraham’s bosom;’ and that 
 the wicked are nothing worth, where he saith the 
 ungodly die and are buried. 
 
 A crse 23.—‘And in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments, 
 and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom.’ 
 
 The former verse speaks only of the departure 
 of the ungodly out of this life, together with the 
 glorious conduct 1 that the godly have into the king¬ 
 dom of their Father. Now our Lord doth show, in 
 this verse, partly what doth and shall befal to the 
 reprobate after this life is ended, where he saith, 
 
 ‘ And in hell he lifted up his eyes.’ That is, the 
 ungodly, after they depart this life, do lift up their 
 eyes in hell. 
 
 From these words may be observed these things, 
 First. That there is a hell for souls to be tormented 
 in, when this life is ended. Mark, after he was 
 dead and buried, ‘In hell he lifted up his eyes.’ 
 Second. That all that are ungodly, and do live and 
 die in their sins, so soon as ever they die, they go 
 into hell: he died and was buried; ‘ And in hell 
 he lifted up his eyes.’ Third. That some are so 
 fast asleep, and secure in their sins, that they 
 scarce know well where they are till they come 
 into hell; and that I gather from these words, ‘In 
 hell he lifted up his eyes.’ He was asleep before, 
 but hell makes him lift up his eyes. 
 
 [First,] As I said before, it is evident that there 
 is a hell for souls, yea, and bodies too, to be tor¬ 
 mented in after they depart this life, as is clear, 
 first, because the Lord Jesus Christ, that cannot 
 lie, did say that after the sinner was dead and 
 buried, ‘ In hell he lifted up his eyes.’ 
 
 Now if it be objected that by hell is here meant 
 the grave, that I plainly deny: 1. Because there 
 the body is not sensible of torment or ease; but in 
 that hell into which the spirits of the damned de¬ 
 part, they are sensible of torment, and would very 
 willingly be freed from it, to enjoy ease, which they 
 are sensible of the want of; as is clearly discovered 
 in this parable, ‘ Send Lazarus, that he may dip 
 the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue.’ 
 2. It is not meant the grave, but some other place, 
 because the bodies, so long as they lie there, are 
 not capable of lifting up their eyes, to see the 
 glorious condition of the children of God, as the 
 souls of the damned do. * In hell he lifted up his 
 eyes.’ 3. It cannot be the grave, for then it must 
 follow that the soul was buried there v ith the body. 
 
 Guard, convoy, or escort. See Pilgrims Progress, the 
 entrance into the celestial city.—(En.) 
 
 VOL. III. ' ‘ 
 
 which cannot stand with such a dead state as is 
 here mentioned; for he saith, ‘The rich man 
 died ;’ that is, his soul was separated from his 
 body. ‘ And in hell he lifted up his eyes.’ 
 
 If it be again objected that there is no hell but 
 in this life; that I do also deny, as I said before: 
 after he wa3 dead and buried, ‘ In hell he lifted up 
 his eyes.’ And let me tell thee, 0 soul, whoever 
 thou art, that if thou close not in savingly with 
 the Lord Jesus Christ, and lay hold on what he 
 hath done and is doing in his own person for sin¬ 
 ners, thou wilt find such a hell after this life is 
 ended, that thou wilt not get out of again for ever 
 and ever. And thou that art wanton, and dost 
 make but a mock at the servants of the Lord, when 
 they tell thee of the torments of hell, thou wilt find 
 that when thou departest out of this life, that hell, 
 even the hell which is after this life, will meet thee 
 in thy journey thither; and will, with its hellish 
 crew, give thee such a sad salutation that thou 
 wilt not forget it to all eternity. When that scrip¬ 
 ture comes to be fulfilled on thy soul, in la. xiv. 9, 10 , 
 
 ‘ Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee 
 at thy coming: it stirreth up the dead for thee, 
 even all the chief ones of the earth; it hath raised 
 up from their thrones all the kings of the nations. 
 All they,’ that is, that are in hell, shall say, ‘ Art 
 thou also become weak as we ? art thou become 
 like unto us ?' 0 sometimes when I have had but 
 
 thoughts of going to hell, and consider the ever¬ 
 lastingness of their ruin that fall in thither, it hath 
 stirred me up rather to seek to the Lord Jesus 
 Christ to deliver me from thence, than to slight it, 
 and make a mock at it. ‘ And in hell he lifted up 
 his eyes.’ 
 
 [Second. ] The second thing I told you was this, 
 that all the ungodly that live and die in their sins, 
 so soon as ever they depart this life, do descend into 
 hell. This is also verified by the words in this para¬ 
 ble, where Christ saith, He ‘ died and was buried, 
 and in hell he lifted up his eyes.’ As the tree falls, 
 so it shall be, whether it be to heaven or hell. Ec. xi. 3 . 
 And as Christ said to the thief on the cross, ‘ To¬ 
 day thou shalt be with me in paradise.’ Even so 
 the devil in the like manner may say unto thy 
 soul, To-morrow shalt thou be with me in hell. See 
 then what a miserable case he that dies in an un¬ 
 regenerate state is in; he departs from a long sick¬ 
 ness to a longer hell; from the gripings of death, 
 to the everlasting torments of hell. * And in hell 
 he lifted up his eyes.’ Ah friends 1 If you were 
 but yourselves, you would have a care of your souls; 
 if you did but regard, you would see how mad they 
 are that slight the salvation of their souls. 0 what 
 will it profit thy soul to have pleasure in this life, 
 and torments in hell ? Mar. vui. 36 . Thou liadst bet¬ 
 ter part with all thy sins, and pleasures, and com¬ 
 panions, or whatsoever thou delightest in, than to 
 
 8G 
 
682 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 have soul and body to he cast into hell. 0 then 
 do not now neglect our Lord Jesus Christ, lest thou 
 drop down to hell. lie. ii. 3. Consider, would it not 
 wound thee to thine heart to come upon thy death¬ 
 bed, and instead of having the comfort of a well 
 spent life, and the merits of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 together with the comforts of his glorious Spirit: 
 to have, first, the sight of an ill-spent life, thy sins* 
 fiying in thy face, thy conscience uttering itself 
 with thunder-claps against thee, the thoughts of 
 God terrifying of thee, death with his merciless 
 paw seizing upon thee, the devils standing ready 
 to scramble for thy soul, and hell enlarging her¬ 
 self, and ready to swallow thee up; and an eternity 
 of misery and torment attending upon thee, from 
 which there will be no release. For mark, death 
 doth not come alone to an unconverted soul, but 
 with such company, as wast thou but sensible of 
 it would make thee tremble. I pray consider that 
 scripture, Re. vi. 8, * And I looked and behold a 
 pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, 
 and hell followed with him.’ Mark, death doth 
 not come alone to the ungodly, no, but hell goeth 
 with him. 0 miserable comforters ! 0 miserable 
 society ! Here comes death and hell unto thee. 
 Death goeth into thy body, and separates body and 
 soul asunder; hell stands without, as I may say, 
 to embrace, or rather, to crush thy soul between 
 its everlasting grinders. Then thy mirth, thy joy, 
 thy sinful delights will be ended when this comes 
 to pass. Lo it will come. Blessed are all those 
 that through Christ Jesus his merits, by faith, do 
 escape these soul-murdering companions. ‘ And 
 in hell he lifted up his eyes.’ 
 
 [ Third .] The third thing you know that we did 
 observe from these words was this, That some are 
 so fast asleep, and secure in their sins, that they 
 scarce know where they are, until they come into 
 hell. And that I told you I gather by these words, 
 
 ‘ In hell he lifted up his eyes.’ Mark, it was in hell 
 that he lift up his eyes. Now some do understand 
 by these words that he came to himself, or began 
 to consider with himself, or to think with himself 
 in what an estate he was, and what he was deprived 
 of; which is still a confirmation of the thing laid 
 down by me. There it is that they come to them¬ 
 selves, that is, there they are sensible where they 
 are indeed. Thus it fares with some men that they 
 scarce know where they are, till they lift up their 
 eyes in hell. It is with those people as with those 
 that fall down in a swoon; you know if a man do 
 fall down in a swoon in one room, though you take 
 him up and carry him into another, yet he is not 
 sensible where he is till he cometh unto himself, 
 and lifteth up his eyes. 
 
 Truly thus, it is to be feared, it is with many 
 poor souls, they are so senseless, so hard, so searei 
 in their conscience [l Ti. iv. 2 ], that they are very 
 
 ignorant of their state; and when death comes it 
 strikes them as it were into a swoon, especially if 
 they die suddenly, and so they are hurried away, 
 and scarce know where they are till in hell they 
 lift up their eyes: this is he who ‘ dieth in his full 
 strength, being wholly at ease and quiet.’ Jobxxi. 23. 
 
 Of this sort are they spoken of in rs. lxxiii., where 
 he saith, ‘ There are no bands in their death: but 
 their strength is firm.’ ‘ They are not in trouble 
 as other men, neither are they plagued like other 
 men.’ And again, * they spend their days in 
 wealth, and in a moment,’ mark, ‘ in a moment,’ 
 before they are aware, they ‘ go down to the 
 grave.* Job xxi. 13. 
 
 Indeed this is too much known by woeful and 
 daily experience; sometimes when we go to visit 
 them that are sick in the towns and places where 
 we live, 0 how senseless, how seared in their con¬ 
 sciences are they! They are neither sensible of 
 leaven nor of hell, of sin nor of a Saviour; speak 
 ;o them of their condition, and the state of their 
 souls, and you shall find them as ignorant as if 
 they had no souls to regard. Others, though they 
 lie ready to die, yet they are busying themselves 
 about their outward affairs, as though they should 
 certainly live here, even to live and enjoy the 
 same for ever. Again, come to others, speak to 
 them about the state of their souls, though they 
 have no more experience of the new birth than a 
 beast, yet will they speak as confidently of their 
 eternal state, and the welfare of their souls, as if 
 they had the most excellent experience of any man 
 or woman in the world, saying, ‘ I shall have 
 peace.’ De. xxix. 19. When, as I said even now, the 
 Lord knows they are as ignorant of the new birth, 
 of the nature and operation of faith, of the witness 
 of the Spirit, as if there were no new birth, no 
 faith, no witness of the Spirit of Christ in any of 
 the saints in the world. Nay, thus many of them 
 are, even an hour or less before their departure. 
 Ah, poor souls! though they may go away here 
 like a lamb, as the world says, yet, if you could 
 but follow them a little, to stand and listen soon 
 after their departure, it is to be feared, you should 
 hear them roar like a lion at their first entrance 
 into hell, far worse than even did Korah, &c., 
 when they went down quick into the ground. 
 Nu. xvi. 31—35. 
 
 Now, by this one thing doth the devil take 
 great advantage on the hearts of the ignorant, 
 suggesting unto them that because the party de¬ 
 ceased departed so quietly, without all doubt they 
 are gone to rest and joy; when, alas! it is to be 
 feared the reason why they went away so quietly, 
 was rather because they were senseless and liai- 
 dened in their consciences ; yea, dead before in 
 sins and trespasses. For, had they had but some 
 awakenings on their death-beds, as some have had. 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 6S3 
 
 they would have made all the town to ring of their 
 doleful condition; but because they are seared 
 and ignorant, and so depart quietly, therefore the 
 world takes heart at grass, 1 as we use to say, 
 and make no great matter of living and dying 
 they cannot tell how; ‘ therefore pride compasseth 
 them as a chain.' rs. ixxv. 6. But let them look to 
 themselves, for if they have not an interest in the 
 Lord Jesus now, while they live in the world, they 
 will, whether they die raging or still, go unto the 
 same place; * * and lifted up their eyes in hell.’ 
 
 0, my friends, did you but know what a miser¬ 
 able condition they are in that go out of this world 
 without an interest in the Son cf God, it would 
 make you smite upon your thigh, and in the bitterness 
 of your souls cry out, ‘ Men and brethren, what 
 shall we do to be saved ?’ Ac. xyL 29 - 31 . And not 
 only so, but thou wouldst not be comforted until 
 thou didst find a rest for thy soul in the Lord 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 Verse 23. ‘ And in hell he lifted up his eyes, 
 being in torments, and seetli Abraham afar off, 
 and Lazarus in his bosom.’ 
 
 Something, in brief, I have observed from the 
 first part of this verse, namely, from these words, 
 ‘ And in hell he lifted up his eyes.’ And, indeed, 
 I have observed but something, for they are very 
 full of matter, and many things might be taken 
 notice of in them. There is one thing more that 
 I might touch upon, as touched in this saying, and 
 that is this:—Methinks the Lord Jesus Christ doth 
 hereby signify that men are naturally unwilling to 
 see or take notice of their sad state, I say by nature; 
 but though now they are willingly ignorant, yet 
 in hell they shall lift up their eyes. That is, in 
 hell they shall see and understand their miserable 
 condition; and, therefore, to these words: ‘ In 
 hell he lifted up his eyes,’ lie adds, ‘ being in tor¬ 
 ments.’ As if he had said, though once they 
 shut their eyes, though once they were willingly 
 ignorant (2 Pe. m. 5 ), yet, when they depart into 
 hell, they shall be so miserably handled and tor¬ 
 mented, that they shall be forced to lift up their 
 eyes. While men live in this w’orld, and are in a 
 natural state, they will have a good conceit of 
 themselves, and of their condition—they will con¬ 
 clude that they are Christians, that Abraham is 
 their father, and their state to be as good as the 
 best. Mat. iii. 7 - 9 . They will conclude they have 
 faith, the Spirit, a good hope, and an interest in 
 the Lord Jesus Christ ; but then, when they drop 
 into hell, and lift up their eyes there, and behold 
 first their soul to be in extreme torments; their 
 dwelling to be the bottomless pit; their company 
 thousands of damned souls; also the innumerable 
 
 1 This proverb was very probably founded upon Je. 1. 11 : 
 
 * Ye are grown fat as the heifer at grass, aud bellow as bulls.’ 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 company of devils; and the hot scalding vengeance 
 ot God, not only to drop, but to fall very violently 
 upon them ; then they will begin to be awakened, 
 who all their lifetime were in a dead sleep. I say, 
 when this comes to pass, lo it will; then in hell 
 they shall lift up their eyes, in the midst of tor¬ 
 ments they shall lift up their eyes. 
 
 Again, you may observe in these words, 4 And 
 in hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torments,’ 
 that the time of the ungodly men’s smarting for 
 their sins will be in the torments of hell. Now 
 here I am put to a stand, when I consider the tor¬ 
 ments of hell into which the damned do fall. 0 
 unspeakable torments! 0 endless torments! Now 
 that thy soul might be made to flee from those 
 intolerable torments into which the damned do go, 
 I shall show you briefly what are the torments of 
 hell. First. By the names of it. Second. By the 
 sad state thou wilt be in, if thou comest there. 
 
 First . The names. It is called a never-dying 
 worm, Mar. ix. It is called an oven fire, hot, Mai.iv.i. 
 It is called a furnace, a fiery-furnaee. Mat. xiii. It 
 is called the bottomless pit, the unquenchable fire, 
 fire and brimstone, hell fire, the lake of fire, de¬ 
 vouring fire, everlasting fire, eternal fire, a stream 
 of fire, Pie. xxi. 
 
 [Second. By the sad state thou wilt he in, if thou 
 comest there.'] 
 
 1. One part of thy torments will be this, thou 
 shalt have a full sight of all thy ill spent life, 
 from first to last; though here thou canst sin to¬ 
 day and forget it by to-morrow, yet there thou 
 shalt be made to remember how thou didst sin 
 against God at such a time, and in such a place, 
 for such a thing, and with such a one, which will 
 be a hell unto thee. God will ‘ set them in order 
 before thine eyes.’ Ps. li. 21 . 
 
 2. Thou shalt have the guilt of them all lie 
 heavy on thy soul, not only the guilt of one or two, 
 but the guilt of them all together, and there they 
 shall lie in thy soul, as if thy belly were full of 
 pitch, and set on a light fire. Here men can 
 sometimes think on their sins with delight, but 
 there with unspeakable torment; for that 1 under¬ 
 stand to be the fire that Christ speaketh of, which 
 shall never be quenched. Mar. ix. 43 - 49 . While men 
 live here, 0 how doth the guilt of one sin some¬ 
 times crush the soul! It makes a man in such 
 plight that he is weary of his life, so that he can 
 neither rest at home nor abroad, neither up nor in 
 bed.“ Nay, I do know that they have been so 
 tormented with the guilt of one sinful thought, 
 that they have been even at their wits’ end, and have 
 
 2 Bunyan is here expressing what he had most acutely felt. 
 
 * I blessed the condition of the dog and toad, because they hud 
 no soul to perish under the everlasting weight of hell. I was. 
 broken to pieces,’ until he found refuge in Jesus. See Grace 
 Abounding, No. 104 .—(Ed.) 
 
A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 n 84 
 
 hanged themselves. But now when thou comest 
 into hell, and hast not only one or two, or an hun¬ 
 dred sins, with the guilt of them all on thy soul 
 and body, hut all the sins that ever thou didst 
 commit since thou earnest into the world, altogether 
 clapped on thy conscience at one time, as one should 
 clap a red hot iron to thy breasts, and there to 
 continue to all eternitv: this is miserable. 
 
 t/ 
 
 3. Again, then thou shalt have brought into 
 thy remembrance the slighting of the gospel of 
 Christ; here thou shalt consider how willing Christ 
 was to come into the world to save sinners, and for 
 what a trifle thou didst reject him. This is plainly 
 held forth in is. xxviii., where, speaking of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, the foundation of salvation, ver. 1G, 
 he saitli of them that reject the gospel, that, when 
 the overflowing scourge doth pass through the earth, 
 which I understand to be at the end of the world, 
 then, saitli he, it shall take you morning by morning, 
 by day and by night shall it pass over you; that 
 is, continually, without any intermission. * And 
 it shall be a vexation only to understand the report.* 
 * A vexation/ that is, a torment, or a great part 
 of hell only to understand the report, to under¬ 
 stand the good tidings that came into the world 
 by Christ’s death for poor sinners. And you will 
 find this verily to be the mind of the Spirit, if 
 you compare it with is. mi. l, where he speaks of 
 men’s turning their backs upon the tenders of 
 God’s grace in the gospel, he saith, 4 Who hath 
 believed our report?’ or the gospel declared by 
 us? Now this will be a mighty torment to the 
 ungodly, when they shall understand the goodness 
 of God was so great that he even sent his Son out 
 of his bosom to die for sinners, and yet that they 
 should be so foolish as to put him off from one 
 time to another; that they should be so foolish as 
 to lose heaven and Christ, and eternal life in glory, 
 for the society of a company of drunkards; that 
 they should lose their souls for a little sport, for 
 this world, for a strumpet, for that which is lighter 
 than vanity and nothing; I say this will be a very 
 great torment unto thee. 
 
 4. Another part of thy torment will be this; 
 
 Thou shalt see thy friends, thy acquaintance, thy 
 neighbours ; nay, it may be thy father, thy mother, 
 thy wife, thy husband, thy children, thy brother, 
 thy sister, with others, in the kingdom of heaven, 
 and thyself thrust out. Lu. xiii. 28. ‘ There shall be 
 
 weeping and gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see 
 Abraham (your father), and Isaac, and Jacob, 
 (together with your brethren), and all the prophets 
 in the kingdom of heaven, and you yourselves thrust 
 out.’ Nay, saith he, ‘ They shall come from the 
 east, and from the west’—that, is, those that thou 
 didst never see in all thy life before, and they shall 
 sit down with thy friends, and thy neighbours, thy 
 wife and thy children, in the kingdom of heaven, 
 
 and thou, for thy sins and disobedience, shall ba 
 shut, nay, thrust out. 0 wonderful torment! 
 
 5. Again, thou shalt have none but a company 
 of damned souls, with an innumerable company of 
 devils, to keep company with thee. While thou 
 art in this world, the very thoughts of the devils 
 appearing to thee makes thj r flesh to tremble, and 
 thine hair ready to stand upright on thy head. 
 But 0! what wilt thou do, when not only the 
 supposition of the devils appearing, but the real 
 society of all the devils in hell will be with thee 
 howling and roaring, screeching and roaring in 
 such a hideous manner, that thou wilt be even at 
 thy wits’ end, and be ready to run stark mad again 
 for anguish and torment? 
 
 6 . Again, that thou mightest be tormented to 
 purpose, the mighty God of heaven will lay as 
 great wrath and vengeance upon thee as ever he 
 can, by the might of his glorious power. As I 
 said before, thou shalt have his wrath, not by 
 drops, but by whole showers shall it come, thunder, 
 thunder, upon thy body and soul so fast, and so 
 thick, that thou shalt be tormented out of measure. 
 And so saith the Scripture, 2 Th. i. 9, speaking of 
 the wicked, ‘ Who shall be punished with everlast¬ 
 ing destruction from the presence of the Lord, and 
 from the glory of his power,’ when the saints shall 
 be admiring his goodness and glory. Again, this 
 thou shalt have, as I said before, without any in¬ 
 termission ; thou shalt not have any ease so long 
 as while a man may turn himself round; thou shalt 
 have it always every hour, day and night; for their 
 worm never dies, but always gnaws, and their fire 
 is never quenched ; as it is written in Mar. ix. 
 
 7. Again, in this condition thou must be for 
 ever, and that is as sad as all the rest. For if a 
 man were to have all his sins laid to his charge, 
 and communion with the devils, and as much wrath 
 as the great God of heaven can inflict unto him ; 
 I say., if it were but for a time, even ten thousand 
 years, and so end, there would be ground of com¬ 
 fort, and hopes of deliverance ; but here is thy 
 misery, this is thy state for ever, here thou must 
 be for ever: when thou lookest about thee, and 
 seest what an innumerable company of howling 
 devils thou art amongst, thou shalt think this 
 again, this is my portion for ever. When thou 
 hast been in hell so many thousand years as there 
 are stars in the firmament, or drops in the sea, or 
 sands on the sea-shore, yet thou hast to lie there 
 for ever. 0 this one word ever, how will it tor¬ 
 ment thy soul! 
 
 Friends, I have only given a very short touch 
 of the torments of hell. 0 ! I am set, I am set, 
 and am not able to utter what my mind conceives 
 of the torments of hell. Yet this let me say to 
 thee, accept of God’s mercy through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, lest thou feel that with thy con- 
 
685 
 
 THE GROANS OP 
 
 science which I cannot express with my tongue, 
 and say, I am sorely tormented in this flame. ° 
 
 And seeth Abraham afar of, and Lazarus in 
 his bosom/ 
 
 When the damned are in this pitiful state, sur¬ 
 rounded with fears, with terrors, with torment and 
 vengeance, one thing they shall have, which is 
 tlus,^ they shall see the happy and blessed state of 
 God’s children. He seeth Abraham afar off, and 
 Lazarus in his bosom ; which, as I said before, is 
 the happy state of the saints when this life is 
 ended. Ibis now shall be so far from being an 
 ease unto them, that it shall most wonderfully 
 aggravate or heighten their torment, as I said be- 
 foie. There shall be weeping, or cause of lamen¬ 
 tation, when they shall see Abraham, and Isaac, 
 and Jacob, in the kingdom of heaven, and them¬ 
 selves thrust out. 
 
 I. Observe, those that die in their sins are far 
 from going to heaven ; he seeth Abraham afar off, 
 and Lazarus in his bosom. And, indeed, it is just 
 with God to deal with them that die in their sins 
 according to what they have done ; and to make 
 them who are far from righteousness now, to stand 
 far from heaven to all eternity. Hearken to this, 
 ye stout-hearted, that are far from righteousness, 
 and that are resolved to go on in your sins, when 
 you die you will be far from heaven ; you will see 
 Lazarus, but it will be afar off. 
 
 Again, he ‘seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus 
 in his bosom.* 
 
 These are some of the things the damned do 
 behold, so soon as they come into torment. Mark, 
 and he ‘seeth Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom.’ 
 Lazarus, who was he ? Why even he that was 
 so slighted, so disregarded, so undervalued by this 
 ungodly one while he was in the world, he seeth 
 Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom. 
 
 From whence observe, That those who live and 
 die the enemies of the saints of God, let them be 
 never so great, or stout, let them bear never so 
 much sway while they are in the world, let them 
 brag and boast never so much while they are here, 
 they shall, in spite of their teeth, see the saints, 
 yea, the poor saints, even the Lazaruses or the 
 ragged ones that belong to Jesus, to be in a better 
 condition than themselves. 0! who do you think 
 was in the best condition ? who do you think saw 
 themselves in the best condition ? He that was in 
 hell, or he that was in heaven ? He that was in 
 darkness, or he that was in light ? He that was 
 in everlasting joy, or he that was in everlasting 
 torments ? The one with God, Christ, saints, 
 angels, the other in tormenting flames, under the 
 curse of God’s eternal hatred, with the devils and 
 their angels, together with an innumerable com¬ 
 pany of howling, roaring, cursing, ever-burning 
 reprobates ? Certainly, this observation will be 
 
 A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 easily proved to be true here in this world, by him 
 that looks upon it with an understanding heart, 
 and will clear itself to be true in the world to 
 
 come, by such as shall go either to heaven or to 
 hell. 
 
 2. The second observation from these words, 
 And seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his 
 bosom,’ is this ; they that are the persecutors of 
 the saints of the Lord now in this world, shall see 
 the Lord’s persecuted ones to be they that are so 
 highly esteemed by the Lord, as to sit or to be in 
 Abraham’s bosom, in everlasting glory, though 
 they, the enemies to the children of God, 1 did "so 
 lightly esteem them, that they scorned to let them 
 gather up the dog’s meat that falls under their 
 table. This is also verified, and held forth plainly 
 by this parable. And therefore be not grieved, 
 0 you that are the tempted, persecuted, afflicted, 
 sighing, praying saints of the Lord, though your 
 adveisaries look upon you now with a disdainful, 
 suily, rugged, proud, and haughty countenance, 
 yet the time shall come when they shall spy you 
 in Abraham’s bosom ! 
 
 I might enlarge upon these things, but shall 
 leave them to the Spirit of the Lord, which can 
 better by ten thousand degrees enlarge them on 
 tlij heart and conscience, than I can upon a piece 
 of paper. Therefore, leaving these to the blessing 
 of the Lord, 1 shall come to the next verse, and 
 shall be brief in speaking to that also, and so pass 
 to the rest. 
 
 Verse 24. * And he cried, and said, Father Abraham, have 
 
 mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip 
 of his finger in water, and cool ray tongue; for I am tor¬ 
 mented in this flame.’ 
 
 You know I told you that ver. 22 is a discovery 
 of the departure of the godly and the ungodly out 
 of this life; where he saith the beggar died, and the 
 rich man also died. The 23d verse is a discovery 
 of the proper places, both of the godly and the un¬ 
 godly after death ; one being in Abraham’s bosom, 
 or in glory, the other in hell. Now this 24th verse 
 is a discovery of part of the too late repentance of 
 the ungodly, when they are dropped down into hell; 
 
 ‘ And he cried, and said, Father Abraham, have 
 mercy on me. ’ From these words, ‘ And he cried,’ 
 we may observe. 
 
 First. What a change the ungodly will have 
 when they come into hell. ‘He cried.’ It is 
 like he was laughing, jesting, jeering, drinking, 
 mocking, swearing, cursing, prating, persecuting 
 of the godly in his prosperity, among bis filthy 
 companions. But now the case is otherwise, now 
 lie is in another frame, now his proud, stout, cur- 
 
 1 The first edition has, ‘and the practice of the saints.’ This 
 was left out in all the subsequent editious.—(E d.) 
 
685 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM IJELL, OR 
 
 rish carriage, is come down ; ‘ And lie cried.’ The 
 laughter of the ungodly will not last always, hut 
 will be sure to end in a cry ; ‘ The triumphing of 
 the wicked is short.’ Job xx. 5. Consider, you must 
 have a change either here or in hell. If you be 
 not new creatures, regenerate persons, new-born 
 babes, in this world, before you go hence, your 
 note will be changed, your conditions will be 
 changed ; for if you come into hell, you must cry. 
 
 0 did but the singing drunkards, when they are 
 making merry on the ale bench, 1 think on this, 
 it would make them change their note, and cry, 
 What shall I do ? Whither shall I go when I 
 die ? But, as I said before, the devil, as ho 
 labours to get poor souls to follow their sins, so 
 he labours also to keep the thoughts of eternal 
 damnation out of their minds ; and, indeed, these 
 two things are so nearly linked together, that the 
 devil cannot well get the soul to go on in sin with 
 delight unless he can keep the thoughts of that 
 terrible after clap out of their minds. 
 
 But let them know that it shall not always be 
 thus with them ; for if, when they depart, they 
 drop down into eternal destruction, they shall have 
 such a sense of their sins, and the punishment due 
 to the same, that it shall make them to cry; ‘And 
 he cried.’ 0 what an alteration will there be 
 among the ungodly when they go out of this 
 world ? It may be a fortnight, or a month before 
 their departure, they were light, stout, surly, 
 drinking themselves drunk, slighting God’s people, 
 mocking at goodness, and delighting in sin, fol¬ 
 lowing the world, seeking after riches, faring deli¬ 
 ciously, keeping company with the bravest ; 2 but 
 now, they are dropped down into hell, they cry. A 
 little while ago they were painting their faces, 
 feeding their lusts, following their whores, rob¬ 
 bing their neighbours, telling of lies, following of 
 plays and sports, to pass away the time ; but now 
 they are in hell, they do cry. It may be last year 
 they heard some good sermons, were invited to re¬ 
 ceive heaven, were told their sins should be par¬ 
 doned if they closed in with Jesus ; but, refusing 
 his proffers, and slighting the grace that was once 
 tendered, they are now in hell, and do cry. 
 
 Before, they had so much time, they thought 
 that they could not tell how to spend it, unless it 
 were in hunting, and whoring, in dancing, and 
 playing, and spending whole hours, yea, days, 
 nay, weeks, in the lusts of the flesh ; but when 
 they depart into another place, and begin to lift 
 up their eyes in hell, and consider their miserable 
 and irrecoverable condition, they will cry. 
 
 1 Ale bench, in Banyan’s time, was very similar to a taproom; 
 more generally the place of resort for the idle tipplers, but some¬ 
 times of refreshment to the weary traveller.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 Formerly designated not only a courageous man, but his 
 counterpart, a braggart, a bully, or a daudy. In these latter 
 
 senses it is obsolete.—(E d.) 
 
 0 what a condition wilt thou fall into, when thou 
 dost depart this world; if thou depart unconverted, 
 and not born again, thou liadst better have been 
 smothered the first hour thou wast born ; thou 
 hadst better have been plucked one limb from 
 another; thou hadst better have been made a dog, 
 a toad, a serpent, nay, any other creature in the 
 visible world, than to die unconverted ; 3 and this 
 thou wilt find to be true, when in hell thou dost 
 lift up thine eyes, and dost cry. 
 
 Here then, before we go any further, you may 
 see that it is not without good ground that these 
 words are here spoken by our Lord, that when any 
 of the ungodly do depart into hell, they will cry. 
 Cry, why so ? 1. They will cry to think that they 
 should be cut off from the land of the living, never 
 more to have any footing therein. 2. They will 
 cry to think that the gospel of Christ should be so 
 often proffered them, and yet they are not profited 
 by it. 3. They will cry to think that now, though 
 they would never so willingly repent and be saved, 
 yet they are past all recovery. 4. They will cry 
 to think that they should be so foolish as to follow 
 their pleasures, when others were following of 
 Christ. Ln. xiii. 28 . 5. They will cry to think that 
 
 they must be separated from God, Christ, and the 
 kingdom of heaven, and that for ever. 6. To think 
 that their crying will now do them no good. 7- To 
 think that, at the day of judgment, they must stand 
 at the left hand of Christ, among an innumerable 
 company of the damned ones. 8. They will cry 
 to think that Lazarus, whom once they slighted, 
 must be of them that must sit down with Christ to 
 judge ; or together with Christ, to pass a sentence 
 of condemnation on their souls for ever and ever. 
 
 1 Co. vi. 2, 3. 9. Cry to think that when the judg¬ 
 
 ment is over, and others are taken into the ever¬ 
 lasting kingdom of glory, then they must depart 
 back again into that dungeon of darkness from 
 whence they came out, to appear before the terri¬ 
 ble tribunal. There they shall be tormented so 
 long as eternitv lasts, without the least interims- 
 sion or ease. 
 
 How sayest thou, 0 thou wanton, proud, swear- 
 ing, lying, ungodly wretch, whether this be to 
 be slighted and made a mock at. And again tell 
 me now, if it be not better to leave sin, and to 
 close in with Christ Jesus, notwithstanding that 
 reproach thou shalt meet with for so doing, than 
 to live a little while in this world in pleasures and 
 feeding thy lusts, in neglecting the welfare of thy 
 soul, and refusing to be justified by Jesus; and in 
 a moment to drop down to hell and to cry ? 0 ! 
 
 consider, I say, consider betimes, and put not ofi 
 the tenders of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 
 5 These feelings appear in awful reality in Grace Abounding, 
 Nos. 87 and 104 .—(Ed.) 
 
TTTE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 6S7 
 
 lost you lift up your eyes in hell, and cry for an¬ 
 guish of spirit. 
 
 ‘ And lie cried and said, Father Abraham, have 
 mercy on me, and send Lazarus,’ (Ac. 
 
 [Second. ] These words do not only hold forth the 
 lamentable condition of the damned, and their la¬ 
 mentable howling and crying out under their anguish 
 of spirit, but also they do signify to us, a 3 I said 
 before, their too late repentance; and also that they 
 would very willingly, if they might, be set at liberty 
 from that everlasting misery that by their sins they 
 have plunged themselves into. I say, these words 
 do hold forth a desire that the damned have, to be 
 delivered from those torments that they now are 
 in: 0 ‘ Father Abraham,’ saith he, ‘have mercy 
 on me, and send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip 
 of his finger in water, and cool my tongue, for I 
 am tormented in this flame.’ These words, ‘Father 
 Abraham,’ may have some difficulty in them. It 
 is possible that some may think them to be meant 
 of Abraham ; and those, or him that crieth out 
 here, to be the Jews. Or it may be some may 
 understand it to be God, or Jesus Christ his Son, 
 which I rather suppose it may be, that is here cried 
 out unto ; because you find the same cry to him 
 as it were uttered by the ungodly in other places 
 of the Scripture ; as in Lu. xiii. 25 , 26 . Then shall 
 they say, ‘ Lord, Lord, we have eaten and drunk 
 in thy presence, and thouhast taught in our streets.’ 
 Nay more, ‘ In thy name have cast out devils, and 
 in thy name done many wonderful works.’ Mat. vii. 
 22 . This was just at their rejection. And again, 
 in Mat. xxv. 11 , they cry again to him, even to 
 Jesus, ‘Lord, Lord, open to us.’ And he there 
 again gives them a repulse, as also in this parable. 
 
 .But however or whosoever Abraham is, yet 
 these truths may be observed from the words. 
 1. That the damned, when in an irrecoverable 
 estate, will seek for, or desire deliverance from 
 the wrath that they are and shall be in for eter¬ 
 nity. ‘ Surely in the floods of great waters they 
 shall not come nigh unto him.’ Ps. xxxii. 6. 2. That 
 they will pray, if I may so call it, earnestly for 
 deliverance from their miserable estate. These 
 two things are clear from the words. For mark, 
 lie not only said, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on 
 me ;’ but ‘ he cried,’ and said, ‘ Father Abraham, 
 have mercy on me.’ 3. From whence take a third 
 observation ; and that is, there is a time coming 
 wherein, though men shall both cry and pray, yet 
 they are like to have no mercy at the hands of God ; 
 for so was this man served, as I shall further show 
 by and by when I come to it. 
 
 Some people are so deluded by the devil as to 
 think that God is so merciful as to own or regard 
 anything for prayer ; they think anything will go 
 for current and good satisfaction, while they are 
 here in this world, through ignorance of the true 
 
 nature of the mercy of God, and the knowledge in 
 what way God is satisfied for sinners. Now I 
 say, through ignorance they think, that if they do 
 but mutter over some form of prayers, 1 though 
 they know not what they say, nor what they re¬ 
 quest, yet God is satisfied, yea, very well satisfied 
 with their doings ; when, alas ! there is nothing 
 less. 0 friends, I beseech you to look about you, 
 and seek in good earnest for the Spirit of Christ 
 so to help you now, to strive and pray, and to 
 enable you to lay hold of Christ, that your souls 
 may be saved, lest the time come that though you 
 cry and pray, and wish also that you had laid hold 
 on the Lord Jesus, yet you must and shall be damned. 
 
 Then again, you may see that though God be 
 willing to save sinners at some time, yet this time 
 doth not always last. No, he that can find in his 
 heart to turn his back upon Jesus Christ now, 
 shall have the back turned upon him hereafter, 
 when he may cry and pray for mercy, and yet go 
 without it. God will have a time to meet with 
 them that now do not seek after him. They shall 
 have a time, yea time enough hereafter to repent 
 their folly, and to befool themselves, for turning 
 their backs upon the Lord Jesus Christ. ‘ I will 
 laugh at your calamity,’ saith he, and ‘ mock when 
 your fear cometh.’ Pr. i. 26 . 
 
 Again, this should admonish us to take time 
 while it is proffered, lest we repent us of our un¬ 
 belief and rebellion when we are deprived of it. 
 Ah friends ! Time is precious, an hour’s time to 
 hear a sermon is precious. I have sometimes 
 thought thus with myself, Set the case, the Lord 
 should send two or three of his servants, the min¬ 
 isters of the gospel, to hell among the damned, 
 with this comission ; Go ye to hell, and preach my 
 grace to those that are there. Let your sermon 
 be an hour long, and hold forth the merits of my 
 Son’s birth, righteousness, death, resurrection, 
 ascension, and intercession, with all my love in him, 
 and proffer it to them, telling them that now once 
 more, and but once, do 1 proffer the means of re¬ 
 conciliation to them. They who are now roaring, 
 being past hope, would then leap at the least prof¬ 
 fer of mercy. 0 they that could spend whole days, 
 weeks, nay, years, in rejecting the Sou of God, 
 would now be glad of one tender of that mercy. 
 
 ‘ Father,’ saith he, ‘have mercy on me.’ 
 
 Again, from these words you may observe, that 
 mercy would be welcome when souls are under 
 judgment. Now his soul is in the fire, now he is 
 under the wrath of God, now he is in hell, there 
 
 1 Ifovv awfully general is this wretched delusion. The chat¬ 
 tering of monkeys or parrots is more acceptable than to mock 
 God with a solemu sound upon a thoughtless tongue. Jews 
 gabble Hebrew, and Papists Latin, and,alas 1 others who nevek 
 prayed, have been from childhood in the habit of repeating or 
 reading a form of words, called, with devilish subtlety, ‘ saying 
 prayers.’—(E d.) 
 
688 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 to be tormented ; now he is with the devils and 
 damned spirits ; now he feels the vengeance of 
 God. Now, 0 now, have mercy on me ! Here 
 you may see, that mercy is prized by them that 
 are in hell, they would he glad if they could have 
 it. Father, have mercy on me ; for my poor soul’s 
 sake, send me a little mercy. 
 
 ‘ And send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of 
 his finger in water, and cool my tongue.’ 
 
 [ Third .] These words do not only hold forth that 
 the ungodly have a desire of mercy, hut what those 
 mercies are, what these poor creatures would he 
 glad of. As, 1. to have the company of a Lazarus 
 granted to them. Father Abraham, have mercy 
 on me, and send Lazarus. Now Lazarus was he 
 that was beloved of God, and also lie that was 
 hated of them. Therefore, 2. Observe, that those 
 saints, that the world in their lifetime could not 
 endure, now they are departed, they would he glad 
 to have society with them. 0 now send Lazarus! 
 Though the time was when I cared not for him, 
 yet now let me have some society with him. 
 
 Though the world disregard the society of God’s 
 children now, yet there is a time coming in which 
 they would he glad to have the least company with 
 them. Nay, do but observe, those of the saints 
 that are now most rejected by them, even from 
 them shall they he glad of comfort, if it might he. 
 Send Lazarus ; lie that I slighted more than my 
 dogs, he that I could not endure should come into 
 my house, but must lie at my gate, send him. 
 Now Lazarus shall he welcome to me, now do I 
 desire some comfort from him ; hut he shall go 
 without it. 
 
 From whence again observe, that there is a time 
 coming, 0 ye surly dogged persecutors of the saints, 
 that they shall slight you as much as ever you 
 slighted them. You have given them many an hard 
 word, told many a lie of them, given them many a 
 blow. And now in your greatest need and extremity 
 they shall not pity you, the righteous shall rather 
 ‘ rejoice when he seeth the vengeance’ of God upon 
 thee. Ps. lviiL 10 . 
 
 Again, Send Lazarus. From whence observe, 
 that any of the saints shall then he owned by you 
 to he saints. Now you look upon them to he the 
 sect with Hymeneus and Philetus, hut then you 
 shall see them to be the Lazaruses of God, even 
 God’s dear children. Though now the saints of 
 the Lord will not he owned by you, because they 
 are beggarly, low, poor, contemptible among you; 
 yet the day is coming that you shall own them, 
 desire their company, and wish for the least cour¬ 
 tesy from them. 
 
 ‘ Send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his 
 finger in v T ater, and cool my tongue ; for I am tor¬ 
 mented in this flame.’ 
 
 Thus shall the souls that abide in their sins cry 
 
 out in the bitterness of their spirits, with wonderful 
 anguish and torment of conscience, lvitliout inter¬ 
 mission ; ‘ That he may dip the tip of his finger in 
 water, and cool my tongue.’ That he, namely, 
 the man who before I scorned should eat with the 
 dogs of my flock, that before 1 slighted and had 
 no regard of, that I shut out of door ; send him, 
 
 ‘ that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and 
 cool my tongue.’ 
 
 Now these words, * that he may dip the tip 
 of his finger in water,’ &c., do hold forth the 
 least friendship or favour; as if he should have 
 said, Now I would he glad of the least mercy, now 
 I would he glad of the least comfort, though it he 
 hut one drop of cold water on the tip of his finger. 
 One would have thought that this had been a 
 small request, a small courtesy —ONE drop of 
 water— what is that? Take a pail full of it if 
 that will do thee any good. But mark, he is not 
 permitted to have so much as one drop, not so 
 much as a man may hold upon the tip of his finger; 
 this signifies that they that fall short of Christ 
 shall he tormented even as long as eternity lasteth, 
 and shall not have so much as the least ease, no 
 not so long as while a man may turn himself 
 round, not so much leave as to swallow his spittle, 
 not a drop of cold water. 
 
 0 that these things did take place in your 
 hearts, how would it make you to seek after rest 
 for your souls before it he too late, before the sun 
 of the gospel be set upon you! Consider, I say, 
 the misery of the ungodly that they shall be in, 
 and avoid their vices, by closing in with the tenders 
 of mercy; lest you partake of the same portion 
 with them, and cry out in the bitterness of your 
 souls, One drop of cold water to cool my tongue. 
 
 ‘ For I am tormented in this flame.’ 
 
 Indeed, the reason why the poor world does not 
 so earnestly desire for mercy, is partly because 
 they do not so seriously consider the torment that 
 they must certainly fall into if they die out of 
 Christ. For let me tell you, did but poor souls 
 indeed consider that wrath, that doth by right fall 
 to their shares because of their sins against God, 
 they would make more haste to God through Christ 
 for mercy than they do ; then we should have them 
 say, It is good closing with Christ to-day, before 
 we fall into such distress. 
 
 But why is it said, Let him ‘ dip the tip of his 
 finger in water, and cool my tongue?’ Because 
 that, as the several members in the body have 
 their share in sin, and committing of that, so the 
 several members of the body shall at that time be 
 punished for the same. Therefore, when Christ is 
 admonishing his disciples, that they should not turn 
 aside from him, and that they should rather fear 
 and dread the power of their God than any other 
 power, he saith, ‘ Fear him,’ therefore, that can 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 6S9 
 
 cast Loth body aiul soul into hell. Lu. xii. 4. And 
 again, ‘ Fear him which is able to destroy both 
 soul and body in hell.’ Mat. x. 28 . Here is not one 
 member only, but all the body, the whole body of 
 which the hands, feet, eyes, ears, and tongue are 
 members. And I am persuaded, that though this 
 may be judged carnal by some now, yet it will 
 appear to be a truth then, to the geater misery of 
 those who shall be forced to undergo that which 
 God, in his just judgment, shall indict upon them. 
 0 then they will cry, One dram of case for my 
 cursing, swearing, lying, jeering tongue. Some 
 ease for my bragging, braving, battering, tlireat- 
 ning, dissembling tongue. Now men can let their 
 tongues run at random, as we used to say; now 
 they will be apt to say, Our tongues are our own, 
 who shall control them? Ps. xii. 4. But then they 
 will be in another mind. Then, 0 that I might 
 have a little ease for my deceitful tongue? Me- 
 thinks sometimes to consider how some men do 
 let their tongues run at random, it makes me mar¬ 
 vel. Surely they do not think they shall be made 
 to give an account for their offending with their 
 tongue. Did they but think they shall be made 
 to give an account to him who is ready to judge 
 the quick and the dead, surely they would be more 
 wary of, and have more regard unto their tongue. 
 
 ‘ The tongue,’ saith James, ‘ is an unruly evil, 
 full of deadly poison;’ ‘it setteth on fire the 
 course of nature, and it is set on fire of hell.’ Ja. 2. 
 The tongue, how much mischief will it stir up in a 
 very little time! How many blows and wounds 
 doth it cause! How many times doth it, as James 
 saith, curse man! How oft is the tongue made 
 the conveyer of that hellish poison that is in the 
 heart, both to the dishonour of God, the hurt of 
 its neighbours, and the utter ruin of its own soul! 
 And do you think the Lord will sit still, as I may 
 say, and let thy tongue run as it lists, and yet 
 never bring you to an account for the same? No, 
 stay. The Lord will not always keep silence, but 
 will reprove thee, and set thy sins in order before 
 thine eyes, 0 sinner. Yea, and thy tongue, to¬ 
 gether with the rest of thy members, shall be 
 tormented for sinning. And I say, I am very 
 confident, that though this be made light of now, 
 yet the time is coming when many poor souls will 
 rue the day that ever they did speak with a 
 tongue. 0, will one say, that I should so disre¬ 
 gard my tongue! 0 that I, when I said so and 
 so, had before bitten off my tongue! That I had 
 been born without a tongue ! my tongue, my 
 tongue, a little water to cool my tongue, for I am 
 tormented in this dame ; even in that dame that 
 my tongue, together with the rest of my members, 
 by sinning, have brought me to. Poor souls now 
 will let their tongues say anything fur a little 
 prodt, for two-pence or three-pence gain. But, 0 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 what a grief will this be at that day when they, 
 together with their tongue, must smart for that 
 which they by their tongues have done while they 
 were in this world. Then, you that love your 
 souls, look to your tongues, lest you bind your¬ 
 selves down so fast to hell with the sins of your 
 tongues, that you will never be able to get loose 
 again to all eternity. ‘ For by thy words thou 
 shalt be condemned,’ if thou have not a care of 
 thy tongue. For ‘I say unto you, That every 
 idle word that men shall speak, they shall give 
 account thereof in the day of judgment.’ Mat. xii. sc. 
 
 Verse 25.—‘But Abraham said. Son, remember that thou in 
 thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and likewise La¬ 
 zarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art 
 tormented.’ 
 
 These words are the answer to the request, of 
 the damned. The verse before, as I told you, is 
 a discovery of the desires they have after they 
 depart this world. Here is the answer, ‘ Son, 
 remember ,’ &c. 
 
 The answer signifies this much, that, instead 
 of having any relief or ease they are hereby the 
 more tormented, and that by fresh recollections, 
 or by bringing afresh their former ill-spent life, 
 while in the world, into their remembrance. Son, 
 remember thou hadst good things in thy lifetime; 
 as much as if he had said, Thou art now sensible 
 what it is to lose thy soul; thou art now sensible 
 what it is to put off repentance; thou art now 
 sensible that thou hast befooled thyself, in that 
 thou didst spend that time in seeking after out¬ 
 ward, momentary, earthly things, which thou 
 shouldest have spent in seeking to make Jesus 
 Christ sure to thy soul; and now, through thy 
 anguish of spirit, in the pains of hell thou wouldest 
 enjoy that which in former time thou didst make 
 light of; but alas! thou art here beguiled and 
 altogether disappointed, thy crying will now avail 
 thee nothing at all; this is not the acceptable 
 time. 2 Cor. vi. 2. This is not a time to answer the 
 desires of damned reprobates ; if thou hadst cried 
 out in good earnest whilst grace was offered, much 
 might have been; but then thou wast careless, 
 and didst turn the forbearance and goodness of God 
 into wantonness. Wast thou not told, that those 
 who would not hear the Lord when he did call, 
 should not be heard, if they turned away from him, 
 when they did call. But contrariwise he would 
 laugh at their calamity, and mock when their fear 
 did come. Pr. i. 24-28. 
 
 Now, therefore, instead of expecting the least 
 drop of mercy and favour, call into thy mind how 
 thou didst spend those days which God did permit 
 thee to live} I say, remember that in thy lifetime 
 thou didst behave thyself rebelliously against the 
 Lord, in that thou wert careless of his word and 
 
 87 
 
690 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 ordinances, yea, and of tlie welfare of tliine own 
 soul also. Therefore, now I say, instead of ex¬ 
 pecting or hoping for any relief, thou must he 
 forced to call to remembrance thy filthy ways, and 
 feed upon them, to thine everlasting astonishment 
 and confusion. 
 
 From these words, therefore, which say, ‘ Re¬ 
 member that thou in thy life-time receivedst tiiy 
 good things,’ there are these things to be taken 
 notice of, 
 
 First. They that, by putting off repentance and 
 living in their sins, lose their souls, shall, instead 
 of having the least measure of comfort when they 
 come into hell, have their ill-spent life always very 
 fresh in their remembrance. While they live here 
 they can sin and forget it, but when they depart 
 they shall have it before them; they shall have a 
 remembrance, or their memory notably enlightened, 
 and a clearer, and a continual sight of all their 
 wicked practices that they wrought and did while 
 they were in the world. ‘ Son, remember,’ saith 
 he; then you will be made to remember: 1. How 
 you were born in sin, and brought up in the same. 
 
 2. Remember how thou hadst many a time the 
 gospel preached to thee for taking away of the 
 same, by him whom the gospel doth hold forth. 
 
 3. Remember that out of love to thy sins and 
 lusts, thou didst turn thy back on the tenders of 
 the same gospel of good tidings and peace. 4. 
 Remember that the reason why thou didst lose 
 thy soul, was because thou didst not close in 
 with free grace, and the tenders of a loving and 
 free-hearted Jesus Christ. 5. Remember how 
 near thou wast to turning at such and such a 
 time, only thou wast willing to give way to thy 
 lusts when they wrought; to drunkards when they 
 called; to pleasures when they proffered them¬ 
 selves ; to the cares and incumbrances of the 
 world, which, like so many thorns, did choke that 
 or those convictions that were set on thy heart. 
 6 . Remember how willing thou wast to satisfy 
 thyself with a hypocrite’s hope, and with a notion 
 of the things of God, without the real power and 
 life of the same. 7. Remember how thou, when 
 thou wast admonished to turn, didst put off turn¬ 
 ing and repenting till another time. 8. Remem¬ 
 ber how thou didst dissemble at such a time, lie 
 at such a time, cheat thy neighbour at such a 
 time, mock, flout, scoff, taunt, hate, persecute, 1 
 
 1 The intelligent reader should notice that these terms are 
 not jumbled together. Their selection and arrangement would 
 confer honour noon the most profound doctor of philology; 
 while from Banyan they flowed from native genius, little in¬ 
 ferior to inspiration. To show the enmity of the unconverted 
 to those who bear the image of Christ, he descends step by 
 step. They first mock, or deride them by mimicry; second, flout, 
 or treat them with contemptuous sneers, both by words and 
 actious; third, scoif at them with insolent ridicule, sometimes 
 accompanied by a push or blow; fourth, taunt, revile, upbraid, 
 
 the people of God at such a time, in such a place, 
 among such company. 9. Remember that while 
 others were met together in the fear of the Lord 
 to seek him, thou wast met with a company of vain 
 companions to sin against him; whilst the saints 
 were a praying, thou Avert a cursing; while they 
 were speaking good of the name of God, thou wast 
 •speaking evil of the saints of God. 0 then thou 
 shalt have a scalding hot remembrance of all thy 
 sinful thoughts, words, and actions, from the very 
 first to the last of them that ever thou didst com¬ 
 mit in all thy life-time. Then thou wilt find that 
 scripture to be a truth, ‘ The Lord shall give thee 
 there a trembling heart, and failing of eyes, and 
 sorrow of mind. And thy life shall hang in doubt 
 before thee, and thou shalt fear day and night, and 
 shalt have none assurance of thy life. In the 
 morning thou shaft say, Would God it were even! 
 for the fear of thine heart wherewith thou shalt 
 fear, and for the sight of thine eves which thou 
 shalt see.’ De. xxviii. 65—c7. Nay, thou wilt find 
 worse things to thy woe than this scripture doth 
 manifest. For, indeed, there is no tongue able to 
 express the horror, terror, torment, and eternal 
 misery that those poor souls shall undergo, without 
 the least mitigation of ease, and a very great part 
 of it shall come from that quick, full, and continual 
 remembrance of their sins that they shall have. 
 And, therefore, there is much weight in these 
 words, ‘ Son , remember that thou in thy lifetime 
 receivedst thy good things. ’ 
 
 From these words you see this is to be observed, 
 That the ungodly shall remember, or have in re¬ 
 membrance, the misspending their lives ; * Remem¬ 
 ber that in thy lifetime thou receivedst thy good 
 things.’ You may take these words, good things, 
 either simply for the things of this world, which in 
 themselves are called, and may be called good 
 things ; or else with these words, namely, the 
 things of this life, all the pleasures, delights, 
 profits, and vanities, which the ignorant people of 
 the world do count their good things, and do very 
 much cheer themselves therewith. Soul, soul, eat, 
 drink, and he merry ; for thou hast much goods 
 laid up for many years. Lu.xii.i9, 20 . Now I say, 
 God, according to his glorious power and wisdom, 
 will make poor creatures have always in their 
 minds a fresh and clear remembrance of their ill- 
 spent life ; lie will say unto them, Remember, re¬ 
 member, that in thy lifetime it was thus and thus 
 with thee, and in thy lifetime thy carriage was so 
 and so. 
 
 bully, and challenge them : all these produce, fifth, bate, abhor¬ 
 rence, and detestation, leading inevitably to, sixth, persecution 
 —to pursue with malignity—to afflict, harass, and destroy. 
 Such are the gradations in the opposition of the carnal mind 
 to the most excellent of the earth; and such the worldly in- 
 heritance of the followers of our once lowly, but now exalted 
 Saviour.—(E d.) 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 691 
 
 If sinners might have their choice, they would 
 not have their sins and transgressions so much in 
 the remembrance, as it is evident by their carriages 
 here in this world ; for they will not endure to en¬ 
 tertain a serious thought of their filthy life, they 
 ‘put far away the evil day,’ Am.vi.3. Eze.xii.27; but 
 will labour by all means to put the thoughts of it 
 out of their mind ; but there they shall be made 
 to remember to purpose, and to think continually 
 of their ungodly deeds. And therefore it is said, 
 that when our Lord Jesus Christ comes to judg¬ 
 ment, it will be to convince the ungodly world of 
 their wicked and ungodly deeds ; mark, * to con¬ 
 vince ’ them. Jude 14,15. They will not willingly 
 take notice of them now. But then they shall 
 hereafter, in spite of their teeth. And also, be¬ 
 tween this and then, these that die out of Christ 
 shall be made to see, acknowledge, and confess, 
 do what they can, when they lift up their eves in 
 hell, and remember their transgressions. God will 
 be a swift witness against them, [Mai. m. 5], and will 
 say, Remember that thou didst in thy lifetime, how 
 thou didst live in thy lifetime. Ha, friend! if thou 
 dost not in these days of light * remember the days 
 of darkness,’ [Ec. xi. s], the days of death, hell, and 
 judgment, thou shalt be made in the days of dark¬ 
 ness, death, hell, and at the judgment too, to re¬ 
 member the days of the gospel, and how thou didst 
 disregard them too, to thy own destruction, and 
 everlasting misery. This is intimated in that 25th 
 of St. Matthew. 
 
 ‘ Remember that thou in thy lifetime receivedst 
 thy good things.’ 
 
 The great God, instead of giving the ungodly 
 any ease, will even aggravate their torments; first, 
 by slighting their perplexities, and by telling of 
 them what they must be thinking of. Remember, 
 saith he, 0 ye lost souls, that you had your joy in 
 your lifetime, your peace in your lifetime, your 
 comforts, delights, ease, wealth,health, your heaven, 
 your happiness, and your portion in your lifetime. 
 
 0 miserable state ! Thou wilt then be in a sad 
 condition indeed, when thou shalt see that thou 
 hast had thy good things, thy best things, thy 
 pleasant things ; for that is clearly signified by 
 these words, ‘ Remember that thou in thy lifetime 
 receivedst thy good things,’ or all the good things 
 thou art like to have. 
 
 Second. From whence take notice of another 
 truth, though it be a dreadful one, which is this; 
 there are many poor creatures, who have all their 
 good, sweet, and comfortable tilings in this life, 
 or while they are alive in this world; ‘Remember,’ 
 saith he, ‘ that in thy lifetime thou receivedst thy 
 
 good tilings.’ l's. xvii. 14. 
 
 The wicked’s good things will shortly have an 
 end ; they will last no longer with them than this 
 hie, or their lifetime. That scripture was not 
 
 written in vain ; it is like the crackling of thorns 
 under a pot, make a little blaze for a sudden, a. 
 little heat for a while ; but come and consider them 
 by and by, and instead of a comfortable heat, you 
 will find nothing but a few dead ashes ; and instead 
 of a flaming fire, nothing but a smell of smoke. 
 
 There is a time coming, that the ungodly would 
 be glad of a better portion, when they shall see the 
 vanity of this, that is, when they shall see what a 
 poor thing it is for a man to have his portion in 
 this world. It is true, while they are here on this 
 side hell, they think there is nothing to be com¬ 
 pared with riches, honours, and pleasures in this 
 world ; which makes them cry out, ‘Who will shew 
 us any good ? ’ Ps. iv. c. That is comparable to the 
 pleasures, profits, and glory of this Avorld ? But 
 then they will see there is another thing that is 
 better, and of more value than ten thousand worlds. 
 And seriously, friends, will it not grieve you, 
 trouble, perplex, and torment you, when you shall 
 see that you lost heaven for a little pleasure and 
 profit in your lifetime ? Certainly, it will grieve 
 you and perplex you exceedingly, to see what a 
 blessed heaven you left for a dunghill-world. 0 ! 
 that you did but believe this ! that you did but 
 consider this, and say within yourselves, What! 
 shall I be contented with my portion in this world ! 
 what! shall I lose heaven for this world ! I say, 
 consider it while you have day-light, and gospel- 
 light, while the Son of God doth hold out terms 
 of reconciliation to you, lest you be made to hear 
 such a voice as this is, ‘Son, remember that in thy 
 lifetime thou receivedst thy good things ; ’ thy 
 comforts, thy joys, thy ease, thy peace, and all 
 the heaven thou art like to have. 0 poor heaven! 
 0 short pleasures ! What a pitiful thing it is to 
 be left in such a case ? Soul, consider, is it not 
 miserable to lose heaven for twenty, thirty, or 
 forty years’ sinning against God ? When thy life 
 is done, thy heaven is also done ? when death 
 comes to separate thy soul and body, in that day 
 also thou must have thy heaven and happiness 
 separated from thee, and thou from that. Con¬ 
 sider these things betimes, lest thou have thy por¬ 
 tion in thy lifetime. ‘ For if in this life only we 
 have hope, our portion, ‘ ice are of all men most 
 miserable .’ l Co. xv. u. Again consider, that when 
 other men, the saints, are to receive their good 
 things, then thou hast had thine. When others 
 are to enter into joy, then thou art to leave and 
 depart from thy joy. When others are to go to 
 God, thou must go to the devil. 0 miserable! 
 Thou hadst better thou hadst never been born, 
 than to be an heir of such a portion ; therefore, I 
 say, have a care it be not thy condition. 
 
 ‘Remember that thou receivedst thy good things, 
 and Lazarus evil things.’ 
 
 These words do not only hold forth the misery 
 
A. PEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 r,92 
 
 of the wicked in this life, hut also great consola¬ 
 tion to the saints ; where he saith, ‘ And Lazarus 
 evil things that is, Lazarus had his evil tilings 
 in his lifetime, or when he was in tho world. 
 From whence observe, 
 
 1. That the life of the saints, so long as they 
 are in this world, is attended with many evils or 
 afflictions; which may he discovered to he of divers 
 natures; as saith the Scripture, ‘ Many are the 
 troubles 1 of the righteous, but the Lord delivereth 
 him out of them all.* Ps. xxxiv. ia 
 
 2. Take notice, that the afflictions or evils that 
 accompany the saints, may continue with them 
 their lifetime, so long as they live in this vale of 
 tears ; yea, and they may be divers, that is, of 
 several sorts ; some outward, some inward, and 
 that as long as they shall continue here below, as 
 hath been the experience of all saints in all ages ; 
 and this might be proved at large, but I only hint 
 in these thing's, although I might enlarge much 
 upon them. 
 
 3. The evils that do accompany the saints will 
 continue with them no longer than their lifetime ; 
 and here indeed lies the comfort of believers, the 
 Lnzaruses, the saints, they must have all their 
 hitter cup wrung out to them in their lifetime. 
 Here must be all their trouble, here must be all 
 their grief ; Behold, saith Christ, ‘ the world shall 
 rejoice, but ye shall lament ; but your mourning ’ 
 shall, mark, it ‘ shall be turned into joy.’ Jn. xvi. 20 . 
 You shall lament, you shall be sorrowful, you shall 
 weep in your lifetime; but your sorrow shall be turned 
 into joy, and your joy no man, let him be what he 
 will, no man shall take away from you. Now if 
 you think, when I say the saints have all their 
 evil things in their lifetime, that I mean, they have 
 nothing else but trouble in this their lifetime, this 
 is your mistake. For let me tell you, that though 
 the saints have all their evil things in their lifetime, 
 yet even in their lifetime they have also joy un¬ 
 speakable, and full of glory, while they look not 
 at the things that are seen, but at the things which 
 are not seen. The joy that the saints have some¬ 
 times in their heart, by a believing consideration 
 of the good things to come, when this life is ended, 
 doth fill them fuller of joy, than all the crosses, 
 troubles, temptations, and evils, that accompany 
 them in this life can fill them with grief. 2 Co. iv. 
 
 But some saints may say, My troubles are such 
 as are ready to overcome me. Answ. Yet be of 
 good comfort, they shall last no longer than thy 
 lifetime. But my trouble is, I am perplexed with 
 a heart full of corruption and sin, so that I am 
 much hindered in walking with God. Answ. It 
 is like so, but thou shalt have these troubles no 
 longer than thy lifetime. But I have a cross hus- 
 
 1 ‘ Troubles.’ see Puritan translation.— (Ed.) 
 
 band, and that is a great grief to me. Well, but 
 thou shalt be troubled with him no longer than thy 
 lifetime, and therefore be not dismayed, be not 
 discomforted, thou shalt have no trouble longer 
 than this lifetime. Art thou troubled with cross 
 children, cross relations, cross neighbours? They 
 shall trouble thee no longer than this lifetime. 
 
 Art thou troubled with a cunning devil, with 
 unbelief; yea, let it be what it will, thou shalt 
 take thy farewell of them all, if thou be a believer, 
 after thy lifetime is ended. 0! excellent! ‘Then 
 God shall wipe away all tears from your eyes ; and 
 there shall be no more death nor sorrow, neither 
 crying, nor any more pain ; for the former things 
 are passed away.’ Re. xxi. 4. But now on the con¬ 
 trary, if thou be not a right and sound believer ; 
 then, though thou shouldest live a thousand years 
 in this world, and meet with sore afflictions every 
 day, yet these afflictions, be they never so great 
 and grievous, they are nothing to that torment 
 that will come upon thee, both in soul and in body, 
 after this life is ended. 
 
 I say, be what thou wilt, if thou be found in un¬ 
 belief, or under the first covenant, thou are sure to 
 smart for it at the time when thou dost depart this 
 world. But the thing to be lamented is, for all 
 this is so sad a condition to be fallen into, yet poor 
 souls are, for the most part, senseless of it, yea, so 
 senseless, at some times, as though there was no 
 such misery to come hereafter. Because the Lord 
 doth not immediately strike with his sword, but 
 doth bear long with his creature, waiting that he 
 might be gracious. Therefore, I say, the hearts 
 of some of the sons of men are wholly set upon it 
 to do mischief. Ec. viii. 11 . And that forbearance 
 and goodness of God, that one w r ould think should 
 lead them to repentance; the devil hardening of 
 them, by their continuing in sin, and by blinding 
 their eyes, as to the end of God’s forbearance to¬ 
 wards them, they are led away with a very hard¬ 
 ened and senseless heart, even until they drop into 
 eternal destruction. 
 
 But poor hearts, they must have a time in which 
 they must be made sensible of their former be¬ 
 haviours, when the just judgments of the Lord 
 shall flame about their ears, insomuch, that they 
 shall be made to cry out again with anguish, I am 
 sorely ‘tormented in this flame.’ 
 
 ‘But now he is comforted, and thou art tor¬ 
 mented.’ As if he should say, Now hath God 
 recompensed both Lazarus and you, according to 
 what you sought after while you were in this world. 
 As for your part, you did neglect the precious 
 mercy and goodness of God, you did turn your 
 back on the Son of God, that came into the world 
 to save sinners; you made a mock of preaching 
 the gospel; you was admonished over and over, to 
 close in with the loving kindness of the Lord, in 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 693 
 
 Ins Son Jesus Christ. f JLne Lord let you live 
 twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty years ; all which 
 time you, instead of spending- it ‘to make your 
 calling and election sure,’ [2 p e . i. ioj, did spend it in 
 making of eternal damnation sure to thy soul. 
 Job xxi. 29, 30. And also Lazarus, he in his lifetime 
 did make it his business to accept of my grace and 
 salvation in the Lord Jesus Christ. When thou 
 wast in the ale-house, lie frequented the word 
 preached; when thou wert jeering at goodness, he 
 was sighing for the sins of the times. Ec. ix. 4-6. 
 ^ Idle thou wert swearing, he was praying; in a 
 word, while thou wert making sure of eternal ruin, 
 lie, by faith in the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 >vas making sure of eternal salvation. Therefore, 
 ‘Low he is comforted, and thou art tormented.’ 
 
 Here, then, you may see, that as the righteous 
 shall not be always void of comfort and blessed¬ 
 ness ; so neither shall the ungodly go always with¬ 
 out their punishment. As sure as God is in heaven, 
 it will be thus. They must have their several por¬ 
 tions. And, therefore, you that are the saints of 
 the Lord, follow on, be not dismayed, forasmuch 
 as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the 
 Lord. 1 Co. xv. 53. Your portion is eternal glory. 
 And you that are so loth now to close in with 
 Jesus Christ, and to leave your sins to follow him, 
 your ‘ day is coming,’ r-s. xxxvii. 13, in which you 
 shall know, that your sweet morsels of sin, that 
 you do so easily take down, Job xx. 12-14, and it 
 scarce troubles you, will have a time so to work 
 within you to your eternal ruin, that you will be 
 in a worse condition than if you had ten thousand 
 devils tormenting of you. Nay, you had better 
 have been plucked limb from limb a thousand times, 
 if it could be, than to be partakers of this torment 
 that will, assuredly without mercy, lie upon you. 
 
 Verse 26.—* And beside all this, between us and you there is 
 a great gulf fixed; so that they which would pass from 
 hence to you cannot; neither can they pass to us, that 
 would come from thence.’ 
 
 These words are still part of that answer, that 
 the souls^n hell shall have for all their sobbings, 
 sighings, grievous cries, tears, and desires, that 
 they have, to be released out of those intolerable 
 pains they feel, and are perplexed with. And 0! 
 methinks the "words at the first view, if rightly 
 considered, are enough to make any hard-hearted 
 sinner in the world to fall down dead. The verse 
 1 last spake to was and is a very terrible one, 
 and aggravates the torments of poor sinners won¬ 
 derfully. \\ here he saith, ‘ Remember that thou 
 in thy lifetime receivedst thy good things, and 
 Lazarus evil things,’ <fcc. I say, these words are 
 very terrible to those poor souls that die out of 
 Christ. Rut these latter words do much more 
 hold out their sorrow. They were spoken as to 
 
 the present condition then upon the sinner. These 
 do not only back the former, but do yet further 
 aggravate their misery, holding forth that which 
 will be more intolerable. The former verse is 
 enough to smite any sinner into a swoon, but this 
 is to make him fall down dead. Where he saith, 
 ‘And beside all this.’ There is still somethin"- to 
 aggravate thy misery yet far more abundantly. I 
 shall briefly speak to the words as they have rela¬ 
 tion to the terror spoken of in the verses before. 
 As if he had said. Thou thinkest thy present state 
 unsupportable, it makes thee sob and sigh, it makes 
 thee to rue the time that ever thou wert born. 
 Now thou findest the want of mercy; now thou 
 wouldst leap at the least dram of it; now thou 
 feelest what it is to slight the tenders of the grace 
 of God ; now it makes thee to sob, sigh, and roar 
 exceedingly for the anguish that thou art in. ‘ But 
 beside all this,’ I have other things to tell thee of, 
 that will break thine heart indeed. Thou art now 
 deprived of a being in the world; thou art deprived 
 of hearing the gospel; the devil hath been too hard 
 for thee, and hath made thee miss of heaven ; thou 
 art now in hell among an innumerable company of 
 devils, and all thy sins beset thee round; thou art 
 all over wrapped in flames, and canst not have one 
 drop of water to give thee any ease ; thou criest 
 in vain, for nothing will be granted. Thou seest 
 the saints in heaven, which is no small trouble to 
 thy damned soul; thou seest that neither God nor 
 Christ takes any care to ease thee, or speak any 
 comfort unto thee. * But beside all this,’ there 
 thou art, and there thou art like to lie, never think 
 of any ease, never look for any comfort ; repent¬ 
 ance now will do thee no good, the time is past, 
 and can never be called again, look what thou hast 
 now, thou must have for ever. 
 
 It is true, I spoke enough before to break thine 
 heart asunder ; ‘ But beside all this,’ there lie 
 and swim in flames for ever. These words, ‘ Be¬ 
 side all this,’ are terrible words indeed. I will 
 give you the scope of them in a similitude. Set 
 the case you should take a man, and tie him to 
 a stake, and with red-hot pinchers, pinch off his 
 flesh by little pieces for two or three years to¬ 
 gether, and at last, when the poor man cries out 
 for ease and help, the tormentors answer, Nay, 
 ‘but beside all this,’ you must be handled worse. 
 We will serve you thus these twenty years to¬ 
 gether, and after that we will All your mangled 
 body full of scalding lead, or run you through with 
 a red-hot spit; would not this be lamentable ? Yet 
 this is but a flea-biting to the sorrow of those that 
 go to hell; for if a man were served so there 
 would, ere it were long, be an end of him. But 
 he that goes to hell shall suffer ten thousand times 
 worse torments than these, and yet shall never bo 
 quite dead under them. There they shall be ever 
 
694 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 whining, pining', weeping, mourning, ever tormented 
 without ease ; and yet never dissolved into nothing. 
 If the biggest devil in hell might pull thee all to 
 pieces, and rend thee small as dust, and dissolve 
 thee into nothing, thou wouldst count this a mercy. 
 But here thou mayst lie and fry, scorch, and broil, 
 and burn for ever. For ever, that is a long while, 
 and yet it must he so long. ‘ Depart from me, ye 
 cursed,’ saith Christ, ‘into everlasting fire,’ into 
 the fire that burns for ever, ‘prepared for the devil 
 and his angels.’ Mat. xxv. 41 . 0! thou that wast loth 
 
 O 
 
 to foul thy foot if it were but dirty, or did but rain ; 
 thou that was loth to come out of the chimney- 
 corner, if the wind did hut blow a little cold; and 
 was loth to go half-a-mile, yea, half-a-furlong to 
 hear the word of God, if it were but a little dark ; 
 thou that wast loth to leave a few vain companions, 
 to edify thy soul; thou shalt have fire enough, thou 
 shalt have night enough, and evil company enough, 
 thy belly full, if thou miss of Jesus Christ; and 
 ‘beside all this,’ thou shalt have them for ever, 
 and for ever. 
 
 0 thou that dost spend whole nights in carding 
 and dicing, in rioting and wantonness ; thou that 
 countest it a brave thing to swear as fast as the 
 bravest, to spend with the greatest spendthrift in 
 the country ; thou that lovest to sin in a corner 
 when nobody sees thee! 0 thou that for bye- 
 ends dost carry on the hypocrite’s profession, be¬ 
 cause thou wouldest be counted somebod}' among 
 the children of God, 1 but art an enemy to the things 
 of Christ in thine heart. Thou that dost satisfy 
 thyself, either with sins, or a bare profession of 
 o-odliness, thv soul will fall into extreme torment 
 and anguish, so soon as ever thou dost depart this 
 world, and there thou shaft be weeping and gnash¬ 
 ing thy teeth. Mat. viii. 12 . ‘ And beside all this,’ 
 
 thou art like never to have any ease or remedy, 
 never look for any deliverance, thou shalt die in 
 thy sins, and be tormented as many years as there 
 are stars in the firmament, or sands on the sea¬ 
 shore; ‘and beside all this,’ thou must abide it 
 for ever. 
 
 ‘ And beside all this, between us and you there 
 is a great gulf fixed, so that they which would pass 
 from hence to you, cannot; neither can they pass 
 to us that icould come from thence.’ ‘ There is a 
 great gulf fixed.’ You will say, what is that ? 
 Answ. It is a nice question; therefore, 
 
 1. Seek thou rather to enter in at the strait gate, 
 than curiously to inquire what this gulf is. But, 
 
 2. If thou wouldest needs know if thou do fall 
 short of heaven, thou wilt find it this, namely, the 
 everlasting decree of God; that is, there is a 
 
 1 With what searching truthfulness is the character of Bye- 
 ends drawn in the Pilgrims Progress, p 132 : ‘looking one 
 way and rowing another.’—(E d.) 
 
 decree gone forth from God, that those who fall 
 short of heaven in this world, God is resolved they 
 shall never enjoy it in the ■world to come. And 
 thou wilt find this gulf so deep, that thou shalt 
 never be able to wade through it as long as eter¬ 
 nity lasts. As Christ saith, ‘ Agree with thine 
 adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with 
 him,’ Mat. v. 25 ; ‘ lest he hale thee to the judge, 
 and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou 
 be cast into prison. I tell thee thou shalt by no 
 means come out thence,’ there is the gulf, the de¬ 
 cree, ‘ thou shalt not depart thence till thou hast 
 paid the’ utmost farthing, or ‘very last mite.’ Lu. 
 xii. 58 , 59. These words therefore, ‘ there is a great 
 gulf fixed,’ I do understand to be the everlasting 
 decree of God. God hath decreed that those who 
 go to heaven shall never go from thence again into 
 a worse place; and also those that go to hell, and 
 would come out, they shall not come out thence 
 again. And friend, this is such a gulf, so fixed 
 by him that cannot lie, that thou wilt find it so, 
 which way soever thou goest, whether it be to 
 heaven or hell. 
 
 Here therefore thou seest how secure God will 
 make those who die in the faith; God will keep 
 them in heaven; but those that die in their sins, 
 God will throw them to hell and keep them 
 there; so that they that would go from heaven 
 to hell, cannot; neither can they come from hell 
 that would go to heaven. Mark, he doth not say, 
 they would not—for, 0 how fain would these who 
 have lost their souls for a lust, for two-pence, for 
 a jug of ale, for a strumpet, for this world, come 
 out of that hot scalding fiery furnace of God’s eter¬ 
 nal vengeance, if they might—but here is their 
 misery, they that would come from you to us, that 
 is, from hell to heaven, cannot, they must not, they 
 shall not; they cannot, God hath decreed it, and 
 is resolved the contrary; here therefore lies the 
 misery, not so much that they are in hell, but there 
 they must lie for ever and ever. Therefore, if thy 
 heart would at any time tempt thee to sin against 
 God, cry out, No, for then I must go to hell, and 
 lie there for ever. If the drunkards,*, swearers, 
 liars, and hypocrites did but take this doctrine 
 soundly down, it would make them tremble when 
 they think of sinning. But poor souls, now they 
 will ‘make a mock of sin,’ rr. xiv. 9, and play with 
 it as a child doth play with a rattle; but the time 
 is coming, that these rattles that now they play 
 with will make such a noise in their ears and con¬ 
 sciences, that they shall find, that if all the devils 
 in hell were yelling at their heels, the noise would 
 not be comparable to it. Friend, thy sins, as so 
 many bloodhounds, will first hunt thee out, Nu. 
 xxxii. 23, and then take thee and bind thee, and hold 
 thee down for ever. Pr. v. 22. They will gripe thee 
 and gnaw thee as if thou hadst a nest of poisonous 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 695 
 
 serpents in thy bowels. Jobxx. 14. And this will not 
 be for a time, but, as 1 have said, for ever, for ever, 
 for ever. 
 
 Verse 27.—* Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father, that 
 thou wonldest send him to my father’s house.’ 
 
 The verses before, I told you, were spoken partly 
 to hold forth the desire that the damned have to be 
 freed of their endless misery. Now this verse still 
 holds forth the cries ol those poor souls very vehe¬ 
 ment, they would very fain have something granted 
 to them, but it will not be; as will more clearly 
 appear afterward. 
 
 ‘Then he said, I pray thee therefore, father,’ 
 ifec. As if he should say, seeing I have brought 
 in'! ,'self into such a miserable condition, that God 
 will not regard me, that my exceeding loud and 
 bitter cries will not be heard for myself; seeing I 
 must not be admitted to have so much as one drop 
 of cold water, nor the least help from the poorest 
 saints. And seeing, * beside all this,’ here my soul 
 must lie to all eternity, broiling; and frying: seeing 
 1 must, whether I w r ill or no, undergo the hand of 
 eternal vengeance, and the rebukes of devouring 
 fire; seeing my state is such, that I would not 
 wish a dog in my condition, ‘ send him to my 
 father’s house.’ It is worthy to betaken notice 
 of, again, who it is he desired to be sent, namely, 
 Lazarus. 0 friend, see here how the stout hearts 
 and stomachs of poor creatures will be humbled, 
 as 1 said before, they w r ill be so brought down, 
 that those things that they disdained and made 
 light of in this world, they would be glad of in the 
 life to come. He who by this man was so slighted, 
 as that he thought it a dishonour that he should 
 eat with the dogs of his flock. What, shall I regard 
 Lazarus, scrubbed, beggarly Lazarus! what, shall 
 1 so far dishonour my fair, sumptuous, and gay 
 house, with such a scabbed creep-hedge as he ! 
 No, I scorn lie should be entertained under my 
 roof. Thus in his life-time, while he was in his 
 bravery; but now he is come into another world, 
 now he is parted from his pleasures, now he sees 
 his fine house, his dainty dishes, his rich neighbours 
 and companions, and he, are parted asunder; now 
 he finds instead of pleasures, torments; instead of 
 joys, heaviness; instead of heaven, hell; instead of 
 the pleasures of sin, the horror and guilt of sin ; 0 
 now send Lazarus ! 
 
 Lazarus, it may be, might have done him some 
 good, if lie might have been entertained in time 
 past, and might have persuaded him, at least not 
 to have gone on so grievously wicked, but he slights 
 him, he will not regard him, he is resolved to dis¬ 
 own him, though he lose his own soul for so doing. 
 Ay, but now send Lazarus, if not to me, yet to my 
 father’s house, and let him tell them, from me, 
 that if they run on in sin, as I have done, they | 
 
 must and shall receive the same wages that I have 
 received. 
 
 Take notice of this, you that are despisers of 
 the least of the Lazaruses of our Lord Jesus Christ; 
 it may be now you are loth to receive these little 
 ones of his, because they are not gentlemen, because 
 they cannot, with Pontius Pilate, speak Hebrew, 
 Greek, and Latin. 1 Nay, they must not, shall not 
 speak to them, to admonish them, and all because 
 of this. 
 
 Though now the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ 
 may be preached to them freely, and for nothing; 
 nay, they are now desired to hear and receive it; 
 though now they will not own, regard, or embrace 
 these Christian proffers of the glorious truth of 
 Jesus, because they come out of some of the basest 
 earthen vessels; yet the time is coming, when 
 they will both sigh and cry, Send him to my 
 father’s house, l Co. i. 26 . I say, remember this, ye 
 that despise the day of small things; the time is 
 coming, when you would be glad, if you might 
 enjoy from God, from Christ, or his saints, one small 
 drop of cold water, though now you are unwilling 
 to receive the glorious distilling drops of the gospel 
 of our Lord Jesus. 
 
 Again, see here the lamentable state they are 
 in, that go to hell from their fathers, mothers, 
 sisters, brothers, &c. While they are in this world, 
 men delight to set their children ill examples; and 
 also children love to follow the wicked steps of 
 their ungodly parents; but when they depart this 
 life, and drop down into hell, and find themselves 
 in irrecoverable misery, then they cry, send some 
 body to my father’s house, to my brother’s house. 
 Tell them my state is miserable, tell them I am 
 undone for ever; and tell them also, that if they 
 will be walking in these ungodly steps wherein I 
 left them, they will assuredly fail into this place 
 of torments. 
 
 ‘1 pray thee - send him to my father’s house.’ 
 Ah, friends and neighbours, it is like you little think 
 of this, that some of your friends and relations are 
 crying out in hell, Lord, send some body to my 
 father’s house, to preach the gospel to them, lest, 
 they also come into these torments. 
 
 Here, men while they live, can willingly walk 
 together in the way of sin, and when they are parted 
 by death, they that are living, seldom or never 
 consider of the sad condition that they that are 
 
 1 This is not intended to convey any reflection npon human 
 learning, hut to exhibit the contemptuous spirit ot' learned 
 men, so generally manifested to the illiterate, but really learned 
 followers of the Lamb. They sometimes meet their match, 
 even in worldly wit. Thus, when three learned gentlemen from 
 Oxford overtook a pious waggoner, they ironically saluted him 
 as Father Abraham, Father Isaac, and Father Jacob ; he replied. 
 Gentlemen, you are mistaken: 1 am neither Abraham, Isaac, 
 nor Jacob, but Saul, the son of Kish, who was sent to And his 
 father’s asses, and so 1 have found them.—(E l>.) 
 
696 
 
 A. FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 
 dead are descended into. But ye ungodly fathers, 
 how are your ungodly children roaring now in hell? 
 And you ungodly children, how are your ungodly 
 parents that lived and died ungodly, now in the 
 pains of hell also ? And one drunkard is singing 
 on the ale bench, and another roaring under the 
 wrath of God, saving, 0 that I was with him, how 
 would I rebuke him, and persuade him by all 
 means to leave off these evil courses. 0 ! that 
 they did but consider what I now suffer for pride, 
 covetousness, drunkenness, lying, swearing, steal¬ 
 ing, whoring, and the like. 0 ! did they hut feel 
 the thousandth part thereof, it would make them 
 look about them, and not buy sin at so dear a rate 
 as I have done; even with the loss of my precious 
 soul. 
 
 ‘Send him to my father’s house.’ Not to my 
 father, hut to my ‘father’s house.’ It may he 
 there is ungodly children, there is ungodly ser¬ 
 vants, wallowing in their ungodliness; send him 
 therefore to my father’s house. It is like they 
 are still the same that I left them ; I left them 
 wicked, and they are wicked still; I left them 
 sligliters of the gospel, saints, and ways of God, 
 and they do it still; ‘ send him to my father’s house,’ 
 it is like there is hut a little between them and the 
 place where I am; send him to-day, before to-mor¬ 
 row, ‘lest they also come into the same place of 
 torment. I pray thee that thou wouldst send him.’ 
 
 I beg it on my bended knee, with crying and with 
 tears, in the agony of my soul. It may be they 
 will not consider, if thou do not send him. I left 
 them sottish enough, hardened as well as I ; they 
 have the same devil to tempt them, the same lusts 
 and world to overcome them, ‘ I pray thee there¬ 
 fore, that thou wouldest send him to my father’s 
 house;’ make no delay, lest they lose their souls, 
 lest they come hither: if they do, they are like 
 never to return again. 0 ! little do they think 
 how easily they may lose their souls; they are apt 
 to think their condition to he as good as the best, 
 as I once through ignorance did; hut send him, 
 send him without delay, * lest they also come into 
 this place of torment.’ 0 that thou wouldst give 
 him commission, do thou send him thyself; the 
 time was when I, together with them, slighted those 
 that were sent of God; though we could not deny 
 but that he spake the word of God, and was sent 
 of him, as our consciences told us ; yet we preferred 
 the calls of men before the calls of God. For though 
 they had the one, yet because they had not the 
 other in that antichristian way which we thought 
 meet, we could not, would not, either hear him our¬ 
 selves, nor yet give consent that others should. 
 But now a call from God is worth all. I)o thou 
 ‘ therefore send him to my father’s house.’ 
 
 The time was, when we did not like it, except 
 it might be preached in the synagogue; we thought 
 
 it a low thing to preach and pray together in houses. 
 We were too high-spirited, too superstitious; the 
 gospel would not down with us, unless we had it in 
 such a place, by such a man; no, nor then neither 
 effectually. But now, 0 that I was to live in the 
 world again ; and might have that privilege to have 
 some acquaintance with blessed Lazarus, some 
 familiarity with that holy man ; what attendance 
 would I give unto his wholesome words ! How 
 would I affect his doctrine, and close in with it ! 
 How would I square my life thereby ! Now there¬ 
 fore, as it is better to hear the gospel under a hedge 
 than to sit roaring in a tavern, it is better to wel¬ 
 come God’s begging Lazaruses than the wicked 
 companions of this world. It is better to receive a 
 saint in the name of a saint, a disciple in the name 
 of a disciple, than to do as I have done. Lu. x . 16. 
 0 ! it is better to receive a child of God, that can 
 by experience deliver the things of God, his free 
 love, his tender grace, his rich forbearance, and 
 also the misery of man, if without it, than to be 
 ‘daubed with untempered mortar' Eze. xiii. 10 . 0! I 
 
 may curse the day that ever I gave way to the flat¬ 
 teries and fawning of a company of carnal clergy¬ 
 men, 1 but this my repentance is too late; I should 
 have looked about me sooner, if I would have been 
 saved from this woeful place. Therefore send him, 
 not only to the town 1 lived in, and unto some of 
 my acquaintance, but to my father ’3 house. 
 
 In my lifetime I did not care to hear that word 
 that cut me most, and showed me mine estate 
 aright. I was vexed to hear my sins mentioned, 
 and laid to my charge; I loved him best that de¬ 
 ceived me most—that said, Peace, peace, when 
 there was no such thing. Je. v. 30 , si. But now, 0 
 that I had been soundly told of it! 0 that it had 
 
 pierced both mine ears and heart, and had stuck 
 so fast that nothing could have cured me, saving 
 the blood of Christ! It is better to be dealt plainly 
 with, than that we should be deceived; they had 
 better see their lost condition in the world, than 
 stay while they be damned, as I have done. 
 Therefore send Lazarus, send him to my father’s 
 house. Let him go and say I saw your son, your 
 brother, in hell, weeping and wailing, and gnashing 
 his teeth. Let him bear them down in it, and tell 
 them plainly it is so, and that they shall see their 
 everlasting misery, if they have not a special care. 
 ‘ Send him to my father’s house.’ 
 
 1 'The word ‘clergy’ is omitted from all the editions published 
 after Runyan’s death. These words are calculated to fix upon 
 the mind the necessity of a visitation from heaven, of personal 
 examination of the Scriptures, and of solemn, earnest, perse¬ 
 vering prayer, without which no clergyman can do a sinner 
 good. Rut how inexpressibly terrible will be the misery of 
 carnal clergymen, who, by precept or example, have led their 
 hearers to a false hope of heaven. How will such souls gnash 
 their teeth in bitter anguish, and trample their devoted souls 
 to the hottest hell! — (Ed.) 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 697 
 
 ^erse 28.—‘For I have five brethren; that he may testify 
 unto them, lest they also come into this place of torment.’ 
 
 These words are, if I may so say, a reason given 
 by those in hell why they are so restless and do 
 cry so loud; it is that their companions might be 
 delivered from those intolerable torments which 
 they must and shall undergo if they fall short of 
 everlasting life by Jesus Christ. ‘ Send him to 
 my father’s house; for I have five brethren. ’ 
 Though, while they lived among them in the world, 
 they were not so sensible of their ruin, yet now 
 they are passed out of the world, and do partake 
 of that which before they were warned of; they 
 can, I say, then cry out, Now I find that to be 
 true indeed, which was once and again told and 
 declared to me that it would certainly come to 
 pass. 
 
 ‘ For I have five brethren.’ Here you may see 
 that there may be, and are, whole households in a 
 damnable state and condition, as our Lord Jesus 
 doth by this signify. ‘ Send him to my father’s 
 house,’ for they are all in one state, I left all my 
 brethren in a pitiful case. People, while they live 
 here, cannot endure to hear that they should be 
 all in a miserable condition; but when they are 
 under the wrath of God they see it, they know it, 
 and are very sure of it; for they themselves, when 
 they were in the world, lived as they do, but they 
 tell short of heaven, and therefore, if they go on, so 
 shall they. 0, therefore, send him quickly to my 
 father s house, for all the house is in an undone 
 condition, and must bo damned if they continue so. 
 
 The thing observable is this, namely, that 
 those that are in hell do not desire that their com¬ 
 panions should come thither; nay rather, saith 
 he, send him to my father’s house, and let him 
 testify to them that are therein, lest they also 
 come, <t:c. 
 
 Quest. But some may say. What should be the 
 reason that the damned should desire not to have 
 their companions come into the same condition 
 that they are fallen into, but rather that they 
 might be kept from it, and escape that dreadful 
 state ? 
 
 Answ. I do believe there is scarce so much love 
 in any of the damned in hell as really to desire 
 the salvation of any. But in that there is any 
 desire in them that are damned, that their friends 
 and relations should not come into that place of 
 torment, it appears to me to be rather for their 
 own ease than for their neighbour’s good; for, let 
 me tell you, this I do believe, that it will aggra¬ 
 vate the grief and horror of them to see their 
 ungodly neighbours in the like destruction with 
 them. For where the ungodly do live and die, 
 and descend into the pit together, the one is rather 
 a vexation to the other than any thing else. And 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 it must needs be so, because there are no ungodly 
 people that do live ungodly together but they do 
 learn ill examples one of another, as thus: If 
 there live one in the town that is very expert 
 and cunning for the world, why now the rest that 
 are of the same mind with him, they will labour 
 to imitate and follow his steps: this is commonly 
 seen. 
 
 Again, if there be one given to drunkenness, 
 others of the town, through his means, run the 
 more into that sin with him, and do accustom 
 themselves the more unto it because of his enticing 
 
 O 
 
 them, and also by setting such an ill example before 
 them. And so if there be any addicted to pride, 
 and must needs be in all the newest fashions, how 
 do their example provoke others to love and follow 
 the same vanity; spending that upon their lusts 
 which should relieve their own and others’ wants. 
 Also if there be any given to jesting, scoffing, 
 lying, whoring, backbiting, junketing, 1 wantdn- 
 ness, or any other sin, they that are most expert 
 in these things do ofttimes entangle others, that 
 peradventure would not have been so vile as now 
 they are, had they not had such an example, and 
 hence they are called corrupters, is. i. 4 . 
 
 Now these will, by their doings, exceedingly 
 aggravate the condemnation of one another. He 
 that did set his neighbour an ill example, and 
 thereby caused him to walk in sin, he will be 
 found one cause of his friend’s destruction, inso¬ 
 much that he will have to answer for his own sins 
 and for a great part of his neighbour’s too, which 
 will add to his destruction; as that scripture in 
 Ezekiel showeth, where, speaking of the watchman 
 that should give the people warning, if he did not, 
 though the man did die in his sins, yet Ids blood 
 shall be required at lice watchmans hand. E/.e. xxxiii. 
 
 So here let me tell thee that if thou shouldst be 
 such a one, as by thy conversation and practices 
 shall be a trap and a stumbling-block to cause thy 
 neighbour to fall into eternal ruin—though he be 
 damned for his own sins—yet God may, nay he 
 will charge thee as being guilty of his blood, in 
 that thou didst not content thyself to keep from 
 heaven thyself, but didst also, by thy filthy con¬ 
 versation, keep away others, and cause them to 
 fall with thee. 0, therefore, will not this aggra¬ 
 vate thy torment? Yea, if thou shouldst die and 
 go to hell before thy neighbour or companions, 
 besides the guilt of thine own sins, thou wouldst 
 be so loaden with the fear of the damnation 
 of others to be laid to thy charge, that thou 
 wouldest cry out, 0 send one from the dead to 
 this companion and that companion with whom 1 
 had society in my lifetime, for I see my cursed 
 
 1 Making an entertainment by stealth, privately indulging 
 in wickedness*.—(El>.) 
 
 88 
 
69S 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 carriage will be one cause of bis condemnation, if 
 he fall short of glory. 
 
 I left him living in foul and heinous offences; 
 but I was one of the first instruments to bring him 
 to them. 0! I shall be guilty both of my own 
 and his damnation too! 0 that he might be kept 
 out hence, lest my torment be aggravated by his 
 coming hither! 
 
 For where ungodly people do dwell together, 
 they being a snare and stumbling-block one to 
 another by their practices, they must needs be a 
 torment one to another, and an aggravation of each 
 other’s damnation. 0 cursed be thy face, saith 
 one, that ever I set mine eyes on thee. It was 
 long of thee. 1 may thank thee. It was thee 
 that did entice mo and ensnare me. It was your 
 filthy conversation that was a stumbling-block to 
 me. It was your covetousness, it was your pride, 
 your haunting the ale-house, your gaining and 
 whoring. It was long of you that I fell short of 
 life ; if you had set me a good example, as you did 
 set me an ill one, it may be I might have done 
 better than now I do; but I learned of you, I fol¬ 
 lowed your steps, I took counsel of you. 0 that 
 I had never seen thy face! 0 that thou hadst 
 never been born to do my soul this wrong, as you 
 have done! 0, saith the other, and I may as 
 much blame you, for do not you remember how at 
 such a time, and at such a time, you drew me out, 
 and drew mo away, and asked me if I would go 
 with you, when I was going about other business, 
 about my calling; but you called me away, you 
 sent for me, you are as much in the fault as I; 
 though I were covetous, you were proud; and if 
 you learned covetousness of me, I learned pride 
 
 This language is and drunkenness of you. Though I 
 
 sometimes heard learned you to cheat, you learned me 
 
 at the gallows, J J 
 
 but, for ought i to whore, to he, to scon at goodness. 
 
 more to be heard Though I, base wretch, did stumble 
 mhe11, you in some things, yet you did as 
 
 much stumble me in others. I can blame you as 
 you blame me; and if I have to answer for some 
 of your most filthy actions, you have to answer for 
 some of mine. I would you had not come hither, 
 the very looks of you do wound my soul, by bring¬ 
 ing my sins afresh into my mind, the time when, 
 the manner how, the place where, the persons with 
 whom. It was with you, you! Grief to my soul! 
 Since I could not shun thy company there, 0 that 
 I had been without thy company here! 
 
 I say, therefore, for those that have sinned to¬ 
 gether to go to hell together, it will very much 
 perplex and torment them both ; therefore I judge 
 this is one reason why they that are in hell do 
 desire that their friends or companions do not come 
 thither into the same place of torment that they 
 are in. And therefore where Christ saith that these 
 damned souls cry out, Send to our companions. 
 
 that they may be warned and commanded to look 
 to themselves, 0 send to my five brethren! it is 
 because they would not have their own torments 
 heightened by their company; and a sense, yea, 
 a continual sense of their sins, which they did 
 cause them to commit when they were in the world 
 with them. For I do believe that the very looks 
 of those that have been beguiled of their fellows, 
 
 I say their very looks will be a torment to them : 
 for thereby will the remembrance of their own sins 
 be kept, if possible, the fresher on their con¬ 
 sciences, which they committed with them; and 
 also they will wonderfully have the guilt of the 
 other’s sins upon them, in that they were partly 
 the cause of his committing them, being instru¬ 
 ments in the hands of the devil to draw them in 
 too. And, therefore, lest this come to pass, ‘ 1 
 pray thee send him to my father’s house.’ For 
 if they might not come hither, peradventure my 
 torment might have some mitigation; that is, if 
 they might be saved, then their sins will be par¬ 
 doned, and not so heavily charged on my soul. 
 But if they do fall into the same place where I 
 am, the sins that I have caused them to commit 
 will lie so heavy, not only on their souls, but also 
 on mine, that they sink me into eternal misery, 
 deeper and deeper. 0 therefore send him to my 
 father’s house, to my five brethren, and let him 
 testify to them, lest they come into this place of 
 torment. 
 
 These words being thus understood, what a con¬ 
 dition doth it show them to be in then, that now 
 much delight in being the very ringleaders of their 
 companions into sins of all sorts whatsoever? 
 
 While men live here, if they can be counted the 
 cunningest in cheating, the boldest for lying, the 
 archest for whoring, the subtilest for coveting and 
 getting the world; if they can but cunningly de¬ 
 fraud, undermine, cross, and anger their neighbours, 
 yea, and hinder them from the means of grace, the 
 gospel of Christ, they glory in it, take a pride in 
 it, and think themselves pretty well at ease, and 
 their minds are somewhat quiet, being beguiled 
 with sin. 
 
 But, friend, when thou hast lost this life, and 
 dost begin to lift up thine eyes in hell, and seest 
 what thy sins have brought thee to; and not only 
 so, but that thou, by thy filthy sins, didst cause 
 others, devil-like, to fall into the same condemna¬ 
 tion with thee ; and that one of the reasons of their 
 damnation was this, that thou didst lead them to 
 the commission of those wicked practices of this 
 world, and the lusts thereof; then, 0 that some¬ 
 body would stop them from coming, lest they also 
 come into this place of torment, and be damned as 
 I am! How will it torment me! Balaam could 
 not be contented to be damned himself, but also ho 
 must, by his wickedness, cause others to stumble 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 699 
 
 and fall. The Scribes and Pharisees could not be 
 contented to keep out of heaven themselves, but 
 they must labour to keep out others too. Therefore 
 theirs is the greater damnation. 
 
 The deceived cannot be content to be deceived 
 himself; but he must labour to deceive others also. 
 The drunkard cannot be content to go to hell for 
 his own sins, but he must labour to cause others to 
 fall into the same furnace with him. But look to 
 yourselves, for here will be damnation upon damna¬ 
 tion, damned for thy own sins, and damned for thy 
 being a partaker with others in their sins; and 
 damned for being guilty of the damnation of others. 
 0 how will the drunkards cry for leading their 
 neighbours into drunkenness! How will the cove¬ 
 tous person howl for setting his neighbour, his 
 triend, his brother, his children and relations, so 
 wicked an example! by which he hath not only 
 wronged his own soul, but also the souls of others. 
 The liar, by lying, learned others to lie; the 
 swearer learned others to swear; the whoremonger 
 learned others to whore. 
 
 Now all these, with others of the like sort, will 
 be guilty, not only of their own damnation, but also 
 of the damnation of others. I tell you, that some 
 men have so much been the authors of the damna¬ 
 tion of others, that I am ready to think that the 
 damnation of them will trouble them as much as 
 their own damnation. Some men, it is to be feared, 
 at the day of judgment, will be found to be the 
 authors of destroying whole nations. How many 
 souls do you think Balaam, with his deceit, will 
 have to answer for ? How many Mahomet ? How 
 many the Pharisees, that hired the soldiers to say 
 the disciples stole away Jesus? Mat. xxviii. 11-15; and 
 by that means stumbled their brethren to this day; 
 and was one means of hindering them from believing 
 the things of God and Jesus Christ, and so the cause 
 of the damnation of their brethren to this very day. 
 
 How many poor souls hath Bonner to answer for, 
 think you, and several filthy blind priests? How 
 many souls have they been the means of destroy- 
 ingby their ignorance and corrupt doctrine? Preach¬ 
 ing, that was no better for their souls than ratsbane 
 
 *0 ye priests, to ^ 10 body, for lucre’s sake.* 
 
 this word is for They shall see, that they, many of 
 
 them it is to be feared, will have whole 
 towns to answer for; whole cities to answer for. 
 Ah, friend, I tell thee, thou that hast taken in hand 
 to preach to the people, it may be thou hast taken 
 in hand thou canst not tell what. Will it not grieve 
 thee to see thy whole parish come bellowing after 
 thee to hell, crying out, This we may thank thee 
 for, this is long of thee, thou didst not teach us the 
 truth ; thou didst lead us away with fables, thou 
 wast afraid to tell us of our sins, lest we should 
 r ^ not put meat fast enough in thy mouth. 
 
 0 cursed wretch, that ever thou shouldst 
 
 beguile us thus, deceive us thus, flatter us thus! 
 We would have gone out to hear the word abroad, 
 but that thou didst reprove us, and also tell us 
 that that which we see now is the way of God was 
 heresy, and a deceivable doctrine; and wast not 
 contented, blind guide as thou wert, to fall into 
 the ditch thyself, but hast also led us thither with 
 thee. 1 
 
 I say, look to thyself, lest thou cry out when it 
 is too late, Send Lazarus to my people, my friends, 
 my children, my congregation to whom 1 preached, 
 and beguiled through my folly. Send him to the 
 town in which I did preach last, lest I be the cause 
 of their damnation. Send him to my friends from 
 whence I came, lest I be made to answer for their 
 souls and mine own too. Eze. xxxiii. i-g. 
 
 0 send him therefore, and let him tell them, and 
 testify unto them, lest they also come into this 
 place of torment. Consider this, ye that live thus 
 in the world, while ye are in the land of the living, 
 lest you fall into this condition. Set the case thou 
 shouldest by thy carriage destroy but a soul, but 
 one poor soul, by one of thy carriages or actions, 
 by thy sinful works; consider it now, I say, lest 
 thou be forced to cry, ‘ I pray thee therefore, that 
 thou wouldst send him to my father’s house, for I 
 have five brethren, that he may testify unto them, 
 lest they also come into this place of torment.’ 
 
 If so, then I shall not only say to the blind 
 guides, Look you to yourselves, and shut not 2 out 
 others; no, but this doth reach unto all those that 
 do not only keep souls from heaven by preaching 
 and the like, but speaks forth the doom of those 
 that shall any ways be instrumental to hinder others 
 from closing in with Jesus Christ. 0 what red 
 lines will those be against all those rich ungodly 
 landlords, that so keep under their poor tenants 
 that they dare not go out to hear the word, for fear 
 their rent should be raised, or they turned out of 
 their houses! What sayest thou, landlord, will it 
 not cut thy soul, when thou slialt see that thou 
 couldest not be content to miss of heaven thyself, 
 but thou must labour to hinder others also? Will 
 it not give thee an eternal wound in thy heart, both 
 at death and judgment, to be accused of the ruin 
 of thy neighbour’s soul, thy servant’s soul, thy 
 wife’s soul, together with the ruin of thy own? 
 Think on this, you drunken, proud, rich, and scorn¬ 
 ful landlords ; think on this, you mad-hrained bias* 
 phemous husbands, that are against the godly and 
 chaste conversation of your wives; also you that 
 
 1 Awful responsibility 11 A heavy curse on the souls or 
 those who labour to prevent private judgment, guided simply 
 by the Bible—who lead poor sinners to rely upon acts of uni¬ 
 formity, liturgies, articles, or creeds, the grovelling inventions 
 of men; instead of relying wholly on the revealed will of God, 
 which alone is able to make man wise unto salvation.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 The word ‘ not’ is omitted from most of the editions pub¬ 
 lished in Bunyan’s life.—(E d.) 
 
700 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 hold your servants so hard to it that you will not 
 spare them time to hear the word, unless it he 
 where and when your lusts will let you. If you 
 love your own souls, your tenants’ souls, your wives’ 
 souls, your servants’ souls, your children’s souls; 
 if you would not cry, if you would not howl, if you 
 would not hear the burden of the ruin of others for- 
 ever, then I beseech you to consider this doleful 
 story, and labour to avoid the soul-killing torment 
 that this poor wretch groaneth under, when he 
 saith, ‘ I pray thee therefore, that thou wouldest 
 send him to my father’s house, 1 
 
 ‘ For I have five brethren, that tie may testify,’ 
 mark, ‘ that he may testify unto them, lest they 
 also come into this place of torment.’ 
 
 These words have still something more in them 
 than I have yet observed from them ; there are one 
 or two things more that I shall briefly touch upon, 
 and therefore, mark, he saith, ‘ That he may testify 
 unto them,’ Ac. Mark, I pray you, and take notice 
 of the word testifv. He doth not say, And let 
 him go unto them, or speak with, or tell them such 
 and such things. No, but let him testify, or affirm 
 it constantly, in case any should oppose it. ‘ Let 
 him testify unto them.’ It is the same word the 
 Scripture uses to set forth the vehemency of Christ, 
 his telling of his disciples of him that should betray 
 him. And he testified, saying, One of you shall 
 betray me. And he testified, that is, he spake it 
 so as to dash or overcome any that should have 
 said it shall not be. It is a word that signifies, 
 that in case any should oppose the thing spoken 
 of, yet that the party speaking should still continue 
 constant in his saying. And he commanded them 
 to preach, ‘ and to testify, that it is he which was 
 ordained of God to be the judge of quick and dead.’ 
 To testify, mark, that is, to be constant, irresistible, 
 undaunted, in case it should be opposed and objected 
 against. So here, let him testify to them, lest they 
 come into this place of torment. 
 
 From whence observe, that it is not an easy 
 matter to persuade them who are in their sins alive 
 in this world, that they must and shall be damned 
 if they turn not, and be converted to God. ‘ Let 
 him testify to them,’ let him speak confidently, 
 though they frown upon him, or dislike his way of 
 speaking. And how is this truth verified and 
 cleared by the carriages of almost all men now in 
 the world toward them that do preach the gospel; 
 and show their own miserable state plainly to them, 
 
 1 These times of tyrannizing oppression are fast passing 
 away. It was difficult, a few years ago, to hire a room in some 
 of the villages even round London, for a Sunday school am. 
 lecture, or to admit a missionary into a workhouse. A poor 
 baby has been scornfully driven from the font—the dead body 
 ot a dissenter has been refused Christian burial—the cries of 
 poverty and distress have been disregarded—from bitter secta¬ 
 rianism. The genial influence of Christianity is fast driving 
 these demoniac feelings to the owls and bats.— (Ed.) 
 
 if thev close not with it? If a man do but indeed 
 
 «/ 
 
 abour to convince sinners of their sins and lost 
 condition by nature, though they must be damned 
 if they live and die in that condition, 0 how angry 
 ore they at it! Look how he judges, say the 3 f , 
 hark how he condemns us ; he tells us we must be 
 damned if we live and die in this state. We are 
 offended at him, we cannot abide to hear him, or 
 any such as he; we will believe none of them all, 
 but go on in the way we are agoing. ‘ Forbear, 
 why shouldest thou be smitten,’ said the ungodly 
 king to the prophet, when he told him of his sins. 
 
 2 Ch. xxv. IG. 
 
 I say, tell the drunkard he must be damned if 
 he leaves not his drunkenness, the swearer, liar, 
 cheater, thief, covetous, railers, or any ungodly 
 persons, they must and shall lie in hell for it, if 
 they die in this condition; they will not believe 
 you, not credit you. 
 
 Again, tell others that there are many in hell 
 that have lived and died in their conditions, and so 
 are they like to be, if they convert not to Jesus 
 Christ, and be found in him, or that there are 
 others that are more civil and sober men, who, 
 although, we know that their civility will not save 
 them, if we do but tell them plainly of the empti¬ 
 ness and unprofitableness of that, as to the saving 
 of their souls, and that God will not accept them, 
 nor love them, notwithstanding these things, and 
 that if they intend to be saved, they must be better 
 provided than with such a righteousness as this; 
 they will either fling away, and come to hear no 
 more, or else if they do come, they will bring such 
 prejudice with them in their hearts, that the word 
 preached shall not profit them, it being mixed not 
 with faith, but with prejudice in them that hear 
 it. iieb. iv. i, 2 . Nay, they will some of them be so 
 full of anger that they will break out and call, 
 even those that speak the truth, heretics ; yea, and 
 kill them. Lu. iv. 25 - 29 . And why so? Because they 
 tell them, that if they live in their sins that will 
 damn them; yet if they turn and live a righteous 
 life, according to the holy, and just, and good law 
 of God, that will not save them. Yea, because we 
 tell them plainly that unless they leave their siius 
 and [self] righteousness too, and close in with a 
 naked Jesus Christ, his blood and merits, and what 
 he hath done, and is now doing for sinners, they 
 cannot be saved; and unless they do eat the flesh 
 of the Son of man, and drink his blood, they have 
 no life abiding in them, they gravel' 1 presently, and 
 are offended at it, as the Jews were with Christ fo r 
 speaking the same thing to them. Jn. vi. 53, go. And 
 fling away themselves, their souls and all, by quar¬ 
 relling against the doctrine of the Son of God, as 
 
 I 2 Anguish or embarrassment of mind, derived from the name 
 
 [ of a most painful disease.—(E d.) 
 
701 
 
 THE GROANS OF 
 
 indeed they do, though they will not believe they 
 do; and therefore, he that is a preacher of the 
 Word, had need not only tell them, hut testify to 
 them, again and again, that their sins, if they con¬ 
 tinue in them, will damn them, and damn them 
 again. And tell them again, their living honestly 
 according to the law, their paying every one their 
 own, their living quietly with their neighbours, 
 their giving to the poor, their notion of the gospel, 
 and saying they do believe in Christ, will do them 
 no good at the general day of judgment. Ha, 
 friends! How many of you are there at this very 
 day, that have been told once and again of your 
 lost undone condition, because you want the right, 
 real, and saving work of God upon your souls! I 
 say, hath not this been told you, yea, testified unto 
 you from time to time, that your state is miserable, 
 that yet you are never the better, but do still stand 
 where you did; some in an open ungodly life, and 
 some drowned in a self-conceited holiness of Chris¬ 
 tianity? Therefore, for God’s sake, if you love 
 your souls, consider, and beg of God for Jesus 
 Christ’s sake, that he would work such a work of 
 grace in your hearts, and give you such a faith in 
 his Son J esus Christ, that you may not only have 
 rest here, as you think, not only think your state 
 safe while you live here, but that you may be safe 
 indeed, not only here, but also when you are gone, 
 lest you do cry in the anguish and perplexity of 
 your souls. Send one to my companions that have 
 been beguiled by Satan as I have been, and so, 
 by going on, come into this place of torment as I 
 have done. 
 
 Again, one thing more is to be observed from 
 these words, Let him ‘ testify to them, lest they 
 
 ALSO COME INTO THIS FLACE OF TORMENT.’ 
 
 Mark, lest they come in. As if he had said, Or 
 else they will come into this place of torment, as 
 sure as I am here. From whence observe, that 
 though some souls do for sin fall into the bottom¬ 
 less pit of hell before their fellows, because they 
 depart this world before them, yet the other, abid¬ 
 ing in the same course, are as sure to go to the 
 same place as if they were there already. How so? 
 Because that all are condemned together, they have 
 all fallen under the same law, and have all offended 
 the same justice, and must for certain, if they die 
 in that condition, drink as deep, if not deeper, of 
 tue same destruction. Mark, I pray you, what the 
 Scriptures say, ‘ He that believeth not, is con¬ 
 demned already.’ Jn. m. is. 
 
 He is condemned as well as they, having broken 
 the same law with them ; if so, then what hinders 
 but they will partake of the same destruction with 
 them ? Only the one hath not the law yet so 
 executed upon them, because they are here; the 
 other have had the law executed upon them, they 
 are gone to drink that which they have been brew- 
 
 A DAMNED SOUb. 
 
 ing, and thou art brewing that in this life which 
 thou must certainly drink. 1 The same law, I sav, 
 is in force against you both, only he is executed 
 and thou art not. Just as if there were a companv 
 of prisoners at the bar, and all condemned to die; 
 what, because they are not all executed in one day, 
 therefore shall they not be executed at all? Yes, 
 the same law that executed its severity upon the 
 parties now deceased, will for certain be executed 
 on them that are alive in its appointed time. Even 
 so it is here, we are all condemned by nature; if 
 we close not in with the grace of God by Jesus 
 Christ, we must and shall be destroyed with the 
 same destruction; and ‘therefore send him,’ saith 
 lie, ‘lest,’ mark, ‘lest they also come into this 
 place of torment.’ 
 
 Again, ‘Send him to my father’s house,’ and 
 let him ‘ testify unto them, lest they also come into 
 this place of torment.’ As if he had said, It may 
 be he may prevail with them, it may be he may 
 win upon them, and so they may be kept from 
 hence, from coming into this grievous place of 
 torment. Observe again, that there is a possi¬ 
 bility of obtaining mercy, if now, I say, now in 
 this day of grace, we turn from our sins to Jesus 
 Christ; yea, it is more than possible. And there¬ 
 fore, for thy encouragement, do thou know for 
 certain, that if thou shalt in this thy day accept of 
 mercy upon God’s own terms, and close with him 
 effectually, God hath promised, yea, made many 
 promises, that thy soul shall be conducted safe to 
 glory, and shall for certain escape all the evils that 
 I have told thee of; aye, and many more than I 
 can imagine. Do but search the Scriptures, and 
 see how full of consolation they are to a poor soul 
 that is minded to close in with Jesus Christ. ‘ Him 
 that coineth to me,’ saith Christ, ‘ I will in no wise 
 cast out.’ Though he be an old sinner, ‘ I will in 
 no wise cast him out;’ mark, in no wise, though 
 he be a great sinner, I will in no wise cast him out, 
 if he come to me. Though he have slighted me 
 never so many times, and not regarded the welfare 
 of his own soul, vet let him now come to me, and 
 notwithstanding this, ‘ I will in no wise cast him 
 out,’ nor throw away his soul. Jn. vi. 37. Again, 
 saith the apostle, ‘Now,’ mark now, ‘is the ac¬ 
 cepted time, now is the day of their salvation.’ 
 Now here is mercy in good store, now God’s heart 
 is open to sinners ; now he will make you welcome ; 
 now he will receive anybody if they do but come to 
 Christ. ‘ He that cometli to me,’ saith Christ, ‘ I 
 will in no wise cast out.’ And why? Because 
 
 V 
 
 ‘now is the accepted time, now is the day of sal¬ 
 vation.’ 2 Co. vi. 2 . As if the apostle had said, If 
 
 1 This is one of Banyan’s proverbs, which, however homely, 
 is sure to make a lasting impression on the mind. Siti breeds 
 the scorpions which will torment the sinner, unless they tor¬ 
 mented the Saviour. 0 for greater hatred of sin I—(Ed.) 
 
702 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 voa will have mercy, have it now, receive it now, 
 close in with it now. 
 
 God hath a certain day to hold out his grace to 
 sinners. Now is the time, now is the day. It is 
 true, there is a day of damnation, but this is a day 
 of salvation. There is a day coming, wherein sin¬ 
 ners must cry to the mountains to hill on them, to. 
 the hills to cover them from the wrath of God ; but 
 now, now is the day in which he doth hold out his 
 grace. There is a day coming, in which you will 
 not be admitted to have the privilege of one drop 
 of water to cool your tongue, if now, I say, if now 
 you slight his grace and goodness which he holds 
 out to you. Ah, friends, consider there is now 
 hopes of mercy, but then there will not; now Christ 
 holds forth mercy unto you, but then he will not. 
 Mat. vii. 2 . 3 . Now there are his servants that do be¬ 
 seech you to accept of his grace, but if thou lose 
 the opportunity that is put into thine hand, thou 
 thyself mayest beseech hereafter, and no mercy be 
 given thee. * A nd he cried and said, Father Abra¬ 
 ham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus, that 
 he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool 
 my tongue.’ And there was none given. There¬ 
 fore let it never be said of thee, as it will be said 
 of some, ‘ Wherefore is there a price in the hand of 
 a fool, seeing he hath no heart to it ? ’ Seeing he 
 hath no heart to make a good use of it. rr. xvii. is. 
 Consider therefore with thyself, and say, It is 
 better going to heaven than hell; it is better to be 
 saved than damned ; it is better to be with saints 
 than with damned souls ; and to go to God is better 
 than to go to the devil. Therefore ‘ seek ye the 
 Lord while he may be found, and call ye upon him 
 while he is near.’ is. lv. 6. Lest in thy trouble he 
 leave thee to thyself, and say unto thee plainly, 
 Where I am, thither ‘ ye cannot come.’ Jn. viii. 21 . 
 
 0 if they that are in hell might but now again 
 have one such invitation as this, how would they 
 leap for joy! I have thought sometimes should 
 God send but one of his ministers to the damned in 
 hell, and give him commission to preach the free 
 love of God in Christ extended to them, and held 
 out to them, if now while it is proffered to them 
 they will accept of his kindness; 0 how welcome 
 would they make this news, and close in with it on 
 any terms! Certainly they would say, we will 
 accept of grace on any terms in the world, and 
 thank you too, though it cost life and limbs to boot; 
 we will spare no cost nor charge, if mercy may be 
 had. But poor souls, while they live here they 
 will not part from sin, with hell-bred devilish sin. 
 No, they will rather lose their souls than lose their 
 filthy sins. 
 
 But, friend, thou wilt change thy note before it 
 be long, and cry, 0 simple wretch that I am that I 
 should damn my soul by sin! It is true, I have 
 had the gospel preached to me, and have been in¬ 
 
 vited in. I have been preached to, and have been 
 warned of this; but ‘ how have I hated instruction, 
 and my heart despised reproof; and have not 
 obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined mine 
 ear to them that instructed me.’ rr. v. 12 , 13 . 0 
 
 therefore, I say, poor soul! Is there hope? Then 
 lay thine hand upon thy mouth, and kiss the dust, 
 and close in with the Lord Jesus Christ, and make 
 much of his glorious mercy; and invite also thy 
 companions to close in with the same Lord Jesus 
 Christ, lest one of you do go to hell beforehand, 
 and expect with grief of heart your companions to 
 come after; and in the mean time, with anguish 
 of heart, do sigh and say, 0 send him to my com¬ 
 panions, and let him testify to them, lest they also 
 come into this place of torment. 
 
 [Use and Application 
 Of the Preceding portion of the Parable. ] 
 
 1 Now then, from what hath been said, there 
 might many things be spoken by way of use and 
 application; but 1 shall be very brief, and but 
 touch some things, and so wind up. And, Phrst, I 
 shall begin with the sad condition of those that 
 die out of Christ, and speak something to that. 
 Secondly, To the hitter end of the parable, which 
 more evidently concerns the Scripture, and speak 
 somewhat to that. 
 
 [First. I shall begin with the sad condition of 
 those that die out of Christ.] 
 
 1. Therefore you see that the former part of the 
 parable contains a sad declaration of the state of 
 one living and dying out of Christ; how that they 
 lose heaven for hell, God for the devil, light for 
 darkness, joy for sorrow. 2. How that they have 
 not so much as the least comfort from God, who in 
 the time they live here below neglect coming to 
 him for mercy; not so much as one drop of cold 
 water. 3. That such souls will repent of their folly, 
 when repentance will do them no good, or when 
 they shall be past recovery. 4. That all the com¬ 
 fort such souls are like to have, they have it in this 
 world. 5. That all their groanings and sighs will 
 not move God to mitigate in the least his heavy 
 hand of vengeance that is upon them, for the 
 transgressions they have committed against him. 
 
 6. That their sad state is irrecoverable, or they 
 must never, mark, never come out of that condition. 
 
 7. Their desires will not be heard for their ungodly 
 neighbours. From these things then, I pray you 
 consider the state of those that die out of Christ 
 Jesus; yea, I say, consider their miserable state; 
 and think thus with thyself, Well, if I neglect 
 
 1 From this paragraph to the end of the comment on ver. 28, 
 was placed by Banyan, in his first edition, as the first part of 
 the general use and application. See the note on p. 722.— 
 (Ed.) 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 703 
 
 coming to Christ, I must go to the devil, and he 
 will not neglect to fetch me away into those into¬ 
 lerable torments. 
 
 Think thus with thyself, What, shall I lose a 
 long heaven for short pleasure? Shall I buy the 
 pleasures of this world at so dear a rate as to lose 
 my soul for the obtaining of that ? Shall I content 
 myself with a heaven that will last no longer than 
 my lifetime ? What advantage will these be to me 
 when the Lord shall separate soul and body asunder, 
 and send one to the grave, the other to hell, and 
 at the judgment-day, the final sentence of eternal 
 ruin must be passed upon me ? 
 
 1. Consider , that the profits, pleasures, and 
 vanities of this world will not last for ever, but the 
 time is coming, yea, just at the doors, when they 
 will give thee the slip, and leave thee in the suds, 1 
 and in the brambles of all that thou hast done. 
 And therefore to prevent this, 
 
 2. ^Consider ] thy dismal state, think thus with 
 thyself, It is true, I do love my sins, my lusts 
 and pleasures; but what good will they do me at 
 the day of death and of judgment ? Will my 
 sins do me good then ? Will they be able to help 
 me when I come to fetch my last breath ? What 
 good will my profits do me? And what good will 
 my vanities do, when death says he will have no 
 nay ? What good will all my companions, fellow- 
 jesters, jeerers, liars, drunkards, and all my wan¬ 
 tons do me ? Will they help to ease the pains of 
 hell ? Will these help to turn the hand of God from 
 inflicting his fierce anger upon me ? Nay, will not 
 they rather cause God to show me no mercy, to 
 give me no comfort; but rather to thrust me down 
 in the hottest place of hell, where I may swim in 
 fire and brimstone. 
 
 3. Consider thus with thyself, Would I be glad 
 to have all, every one of my sins to come in against 
 me, to inflame the justice of God against me ? 
 Would I be glad to be bound up in them as the 
 three children were bound in their clothes, and to 
 be as really thrown into the fiery furnace of the 
 wrath of Almighty God as they were into Nebu¬ 
 chadnezzar’s fiery furnace ? 
 
 4. Consider thus, Would I be glad to have all, 
 and every one of the ten commandments, to dis¬ 
 charge themselves against my soul ? The first 
 saying. Damn him, for he hath broken me ; the 
 second saying, Damn him, for he hath broken me, 
 Ac. Consider how terrible this will be, yea, more 
 terrible than if thou shouldest have ten of the bio:- 
 gest pieces of ordnance in England to be discharged 
 against thy body, thunder, thunder, one after an¬ 
 other ! Nay, this would not be comparable to the 
 
 1 A familiar phrase, expressive of embarrassment. ‘ There 
 is no comfort in the house upon a wasliiug day.’ Suds, in this 
 sentence, would puzzle a foreigner. Johnson’s dictionary in¬ 
 terprets it, ‘A lixivium of soap and water 1 ’—(Koj 
 
 reports that the law, for the breach thereof, will 
 give against thy soul; for those can but kill the 
 body, but these will kill both body and soul; and 
 that not for an hour, a day, a month, or a year, but 
 they will condemn thee for ever. 
 
 Mark, it is for ever, for ever. It is into everlast¬ 
 ing damnation, eternal destruction, eternal wrath 
 and displeasure from God, eternal gnawings of con¬ 
 science, eternal continuance with devils. 0 con¬ 
 sider, it may be the thought of seeing the devil 
 doth now make thine hair to stand right up on 
 thine head. 0 but this, to be damned, to be among 
 all the devils, and that not only for a time, as I 
 said before, but for ever, to all eternity ! This is 
 wonderfully miserable, ever miserable ; that no 
 tongue of man, no, nor of angels, is able to ex¬ 
 press it. 
 
 5. Consider much with thyself, Not only my sins 
 against the law will be laid to my charge, but also 
 the sins I have committed in slighting the gospel, 
 the glorious gospel. These also must come with 
 a voice against me. As thus, Nay, he is worthy to 
 be damned, for he rejected the gospel, he slighted 
 the free grace of God tendered in the gospel; how 
 many times wast thou, damned wretch, invited, 
 intreated, beseeched to come to Christ, to accept 
 of mercy, that thou mightest have heaven, thy sins 
 pardoned, thy soul saved, and body and soul glori¬ 
 fied, and all this for nothing but the acceptance, 
 and through faith forsaking those imps of Satan, 
 which by their embracernents have drawn thee down¬ 
 ward toward the gulf of God’s eternal displeasure? 
 How often didst thou read the promises, yea, the 
 free promises of the common salvation ! Ilow oft 
 didst thou read the sweet counsels and admonitions 
 of the gospel, to accept of the grace of God! But 
 thou Avouldst not, thou regardest it not, thou didst 
 slight all. 
 
 Second. As I would have thee to consider the 
 sad and woeful state of those that die out of Christ, 
 and are past all recovery, so would I have thee con¬ 
 sider the many mercies and privileges thou enjoyest 
 above some, peradventure, of thy companions that 
 are departed to their proper place. As, 
 
 1. Consider, thou hast still the thread of thy 
 life lengthened, which for thy sins might seven 
 years ago, or more, have been cut asunder, and 
 thou have dropped down amongst the flames. 
 
 2. Consider the terms of reconciliation by faith 
 in Christ are still proffered unto thee, and thou 
 invited, yea, entreated to accept of them. 
 
 3. Consider the terms of reconciliation are but 
 —bear with me though I say but—only to believe 
 in Jesus Christ, with that faith that purifies the 
 heart, and enables thy soul to feed on him effec¬ 
 tually, and be saved from this sad state. 
 
 4. Consider the time of thy departure is at hand, 
 and the time is uncertain, and also that for ought 
 
704 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 tliou knowest tlic Jay of grace may be past to thee 
 before thou diest, not lasting so long as thy uncer¬ 
 tain life in this world. And if so, then know for 
 certain that thou art as sure to be damned as if 
 thou wast in hell already; if thou convert not in 
 the meanwhile. 
 
 5. Consider it may be some of thy friends are 
 giving all diligence to make their calling and elec¬ 
 tion sure, being resolved for heaven, and thou 
 thyself endeavourest as fast to make sure of hell, 
 as if resolved to have it; and together with this, 
 consider how it will grieve thee that while thou 
 wast making sure of hell thy friends were making 
 sure of heaven ; but more of this by and by. 
 
 6 . Consider what a sad reflection this will have 
 on thy soul, to see thy friends in heaven, and 
 thyself in hell; thy father in heaven, and thou in 
 hell; thy mother in heaven, and thou in hell; thy 
 brother, thy sister, thy children in heaven, and 
 thou in hell. As Christ said to the Jews of their 
 relations according to the flesh, so may I say to 
 thee concerning thy friends, ‘ There shall be weep¬ 
 ing and gnashing of teeth,’ when you shall see your 
 fathers and mothers, brethren and sisters, husbands 
 and wives, children and kinsfolk, with your friends 
 and neighbours in the kingdom of heaven, and thou 
 
 o o 
 
 thyself thrust out. Lu. xiii. 27-23. 
 
 But again, because I would not only tell thee of 
 the damnable state of those that die out of Christ, 
 but also persuade thee to take hold of life, and go 
 to heaven, take notice of these following things. 
 
 (1.) Consider that whatever thou canst do, as 
 to thy acceptance with God, is not worth the dirt 
 of thy shoes, but is all ‘as filthy rags.’ Is. liv. 6. 
 
 (2.) Consider that all the conditions of the new 
 covenant, as to salvation, are and have been com¬ 
 pletely fulfilled by the Lord Jesus Christ, and that 
 for sinners. 
 
 (3.) Consider that the Lord calls to thee, for to 
 receive whatsoever Christ hath done, and that on 
 
 free COSt. Re. xxii. 17. 
 
 (4.) Consider that thou canst not honour God 
 more than to close in with his proffers of grace, 
 mercy, and pardon of sin. Ko. iv. 
 
 Again, that which will add to all the rest, thou 
 shalt have the very mercy of God, the blood of 
 Christ, the preachers of the word, together with 
 every sermon, all the promises, invitations, exlior 
 tations, and all the counsels and threatenings of 
 the blessed word of God. Thou shalt have all thy 
 thoughts, words, and actions, together with all thy 
 food, thy raiment, thy sleep, thy goods, and also 
 all hours, days, weeks, months and years, together 
 with whatsoever else God hath given thee. I say, 
 thy abuse of all these shall come up in judgment 
 against thy soul; for God will reckon with thee 
 for everything, whether it be good or bad. Ec.xii. 14 . 
 
 (5.) Nay further, it is so unreasonable a thing 
 
 for a sinner to refuse the gospel, that the very devils 
 themselves will come in against thee, as well as 
 Sodom, that damned crew. May not they, I say, 
 come in against thee, and say, 0 thou simple 1 man! 
 
 0 vile wretch ! That had not so much care of thy 
 soul, thy precious soul, as the beast hath of its 
 young, or the dog of the very bone that lietli be¬ 
 fore him. Was thy soul worth so much, and didst 
 thou so little regard it ? Were the thunder-claps 
 of the law so terrible, and didst thou so slight them ? 
 Besides, was the gospel so freely, so frequently, so 
 fully tendered to thee, and yet hast thou rejected 
 all these things ? Hast thou valued sin at a higher 
 rate than thy soul, than God, Christ, angels, saints, 
 and communion with them in eternal blessedness 
 and glory? Wast thou not told of hell-fire, those 
 intolerable flames ? Didst thou never hear of the 
 intolerable roarings of the damned ones that are 
 therein ? Didst thou never hear or read that dole¬ 
 ful saying in Luke xvi., how the sinful man cries 
 out among the flames, * One drop of water to cool 
 my tongue?’ Thus, I say, may the very devils, 
 being ready to go with thee into the burning fur¬ 
 nace of fire and brimstone, though not for sins of 
 so high a nature as thine, trembling say, 0 that 
 Christ had died for devils, as he died for man ! 
 And, 0 that the gospel had been preached to us 
 as it hath been to thee ! How would we have la¬ 
 boured to have closed in with it! But woe be to 
 us, for we might never have it proffered; no, not 
 in the least, though we would have been glad of it. 
 But you, you have it proffered, preached, and pro¬ 
 claimed unto you. Pr. viii. 4. Besides, you have been 
 intreated, and beseeched to accept of it, but you 
 would not. 0 simple fools! that might have 
 escaped wrath, vengeance, hell-fire, and that to all 
 eternity, and had no heart at all to do it. 
 
 (6.) May not the messengers of Jesus Christ 
 also come in with a shrill and terrible note against 
 thy soul, when thou standest at the bar of God s 
 justice, saying, Nay, thou ungodly one, how often 
 hast thou been forewarned of this day ? Did we 
 not sound an alarm in thine ears, by the trumpet 
 of God’s word day after day ? How often didst 
 thou hear us tell thee of these things? Did we 
 not tell thee sin would damn thy soul? Did we 
 not tell thee that without conversion there was no 
 salvation? Did we not tell thee that they who 
 loved their sins should be damned at this dark and 
 gloomy day, as thou art like to be? Yea, did we 
 not tell thee that God, out of his love to sinners, 
 sent Christ to die for them, that they might, by 
 no m ing to him, be saved? Did not we tell thee 
 of these things? Did we not run, ride, labour, 
 and strive abundantly, if it might have been, lor 
 
 1 The word ‘ simple’ is here used as it is by Solomon in the 
 Proverbs—silly, unwise.— (Ed.) 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 ?A5 
 
 tlic goou of thy soul, though now a damned soul ? 
 Did we not venture our g'oods, our names, our 
 lives? lea, did we not even kill ourselves with 
 our earnest in treaties of thee to consider of thine 
 estate, and by Christ to escape this dreadful day? 
 0 sad doom! When thou shalt be forced full sore 
 against thy will to fall under the truth of this 
 judgment, saying, 0 ‘ IIow have I hated instruc¬ 
 
 tion, and how hath my heart despised reproof!* 
 foi, indeed, I have not obeyed the voice of my 
 teachers, nor inclined mine ear to them that 
 instructed me.’ rr. v. 12 , 13 
 
 (/.) May not thy father, thy mother, thy brother, 
 thy sister, thy friend, the., appear with gladness 
 against thee at the terrible day, saying, 0 thou 
 silly wretch! how rightly hath God met with thee! 
 0 how righteously doth his sentence pass upon 
 thee! Remember thou wouldst not be ruled nor 
 peisuaded in thy lifetime. As thou didst not 
 care for us and our admonitions then, so neither 
 do we care for thy ruin, terror, and damnation 
 now. No, but we will stand on God’s side in sen¬ 
 tencing of thee to that portion which the devils 
 must be partakers of. ‘ The righteous shall rejoice 
 when he seeth the vengeance, he shall wash his feet 
 in the blood of the wicked.’ Ps. lviii. 10 . 0 sad! It 
 
 is enough to make mountains tremble, and the 
 rocks rend in pieces, to hear this doleful sound. 
 Consider these things, and if thou wouldst be 
 loth to be in this condition, then have a care of 
 living in sin now. How loth wilt thou be to be 
 thrust away from the gates of heaven! And how 
 loth wilt thou be to be deprived of the mercy of 
 God! How unwillingly wilt thou set foot forward 
 towards the lake of fire! Never did malefactor 
 so unwillingly turn off the ladder when the halter 
 was about his neck, as thou will turn from God 
 to the devil, from heaven to hell, when the sen 
 tence is passed upon thy soul. 
 
 0 how wilt thou sigh and groan! IIow willingly 
 wouldst thou hide thyself, and run away from jus¬ 
 tice ! But alas! a3 it is with them that are on 
 the ladder ready to be executed, so it will be with 
 thee. They would fain run away, but there arc 
 many halbert-men 1 to stay them. And so the 
 angels of God will beset thee round, I say round 
 on every side; so that thou mayest indeed look, 
 but run thou canst not. Thou mayest wish thy 
 self under some rock, or mountain, Re. vi. 15 , ic, 
 but how to get under, thou knowest not. 
 
 0 how unwilling wilt thou be to let thy father 
 go to heaven without thee! thy mother or friends, 
 Ac., go to heaven without thee ! IIow willingly 
 wouldst thou hang on them, and not let them go ! 
 
 1 Men armed with halberts or javelins ; now only used at 
 ass;zes in England, or by officers attending meetings of magis¬ 
 trates in Scotland.—(E d.) w 0 * 5 
 
 VOL. Ill, 
 
 0 father! cannot you help me? Mother, cannot 
 you do me some good ? 0 how loth am I to burn 
 
 and fiy in hell, while you are singing in heaven! 
 But alas! the father, mother, or friends reject 
 them, slight them, and turn their backs upon 
 them, saying, You would have none of heaven in 
 your lifetime, therefore you shall have none of it 
 now. You slighted our counsels then, and we 
 slight your tears, cries, and condition now. What 
 sayest thou, sinner? Will not this persuade thine 
 heart, nor make thee bethink thyself? This is now 
 before thou fall into that dreadful place, that fiery 
 furnace. But 0 consider how dreadful the place 
 itself, the devils themselves, the fire itself will be! 
 And this at the end of all, Here thou must lie for 
 ever! Here thou must fry for ever, and for ever! 
 This will be more to thee than any man with 
 tongue can express, or with pen can write. There 
 is none that can, I say, by the ten thousandth part, 
 discover the state and condition of such a soul. 
 
 I shall conclude this, then, with a few con¬ 
 siderations OF ENCOURAGEMENT. 
 
 [First Encouragement .] Consider, for I would 
 fain have thee come in, sinner, that there is w r av 
 made by Jesus Christ for them that are under the 
 curse of God, to come to this comfortable and 
 blessed state of Lazarus I was speaking of. See Ep. ii. 
 
 [Second Encouragement.] Consider what pains 
 Christ Jesus took for the ransoming of thy soul 
 from all the curses, thunder-claps, and tempests 
 of the law; from all the intolerable flames of hell; 
 from that soul-sinking appearance of thy person, 
 on the left hand, before the judgment-seat of Christ 
 Jesus, from everlasting fellowship, with innume¬ 
 rable companies of yelling and soul-amazing devils, 
 
 I say, consider what pains the Lord Jesus Christ 
 took in bringing in redemption for sinners from 
 these things. 
 
 ‘ In that though he was rich, yet he became 
 poor, that ye, through his poverty, might be’ made 
 ‘ rich.’ 2 Co. viii. 9. He laid aside his glory, Jn. xvii., 
 and became a servant, rhi. ii. 7. He left the com¬ 
 pany of angels, and encountered with the devil. 
 
 La. iv. Mat. iv. He left heaven’s ease for a time, to 
 lie upon hard mountains. La. vi. 12 . j n . viii. 1 . In a 
 word, he became poorer than they that go with 
 flail and rake; yea, than the very birds or foxes, 
 and all to do thee good. Besides, consider a little 
 of these unspeakable and intolerable slightings and 
 rejections, and the manifold abuses that came from 
 men upon him. IIow he was falsely accused, 
 being a sweet, harmless, and undefiled lamb. How 
 he was undervalued, so that a murderer was 
 counted less worthy of condemnation than he. 
 Besides, how they mocked him, spit on him, beat 
 him over the head with staves, had the hair 
 plucked from his cheeks. ‘ I gave my back to 
 the smiters,’ saith lie, ‘and inv cheeks to them 
 
 S'J 
 
706 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 that plucked off the hair; I hid not my face from 
 shame and spitting.’ Is. 1 . c. His head crowned 
 with thorns, his hands pierced with nails, and his 
 side with a spear; together with how they used 
 him, scourged him, and so miserably misusing him, 
 that they had even spent him in a great measure 
 before they did crucify him; insomuch that there 
 was another fain to carry his cross. Again, 
 
 [Third Encouragement .] Not only this, but lay 
 to heart a little what he received from God, his deal 
 Father, though he were his dear and tender Son. 
 
 1. In that he did reckon 1 him the greatest 
 sinner and rebel in the world. For he laid the sins 
 of thousands, and ten thousands, and thousands 
 of thousands of sinners to his charge. Is. liii. And 
 caused him to drink the terrible cup that was due 
 to them all; and not only so, but did delight in so 
 doin^-. « For it pleased the Lord to bruise him.’ 
 God°dealt indeed with his son, as Abraham would 
 have dealt with Isaac; ay, and more terribly by 
 ten thousand parts. For he did not only tear his 
 body like a lion, but made his soul an offering for 
 sin. And this was not done feignedly, but really— 
 for justice called for it, he standing in the room of 
 sinners. Witness that horrible and unspeakable 
 agony that fell on him suddenly in the garden, as 
 if all the vials of God’s unspeakable scalding ven¬ 
 geance had been cast upon him all at once, and 
 all the devils in hell had broken loose from thence 
 at once to destroy him, and that for ever; insomuch 
 that the very pangs of death seized upon him in the 
 same hour. For, saith he, ‘ My soul is exceeding 
 sorrowful ’ and ‘ sore amazed, even 4 unto death. 
 Mar. xiv. 34. 
 
 [2.] Witness also that strange kind of sweat that 
 trickled down his most blessed face, where it is 
 said: ‘ And he sweat, as it were, great drops’ or 
 dodders ‘ of blood,’ trickling ‘ down to the ground.’ 
 0 Lord Jesus! what a load didst thou carry! 
 What a burden didst thou bear of the sins of 
 the world, and the wrath of God! 0 thou 
 didst not only bleed at nose and mouth with the 
 pressure that lay upon thee, but thou wast so 
 pressed, so loaden, that the pure blood gushed 
 through the flesh and skin, and so ran trickling 
 down to the ground. ‘ And his sweat was as it 
 were great drops of blood,’ trickling or ‘ falling 
 down to the ground.’ Lu. xxii. 44. Canst thou read 
 this, 0 thou wicked sinner, and yet go on in sin? 
 Canst thou think of this, and defer repentance one 
 hour longer? 0 heart of flint! yea, harder. 0 
 miserable wretch! What place in hell will be 
 hot enough for thee to have thy soul put into, if 
 thou slialt persist or go on still to add iniquity to 
 iniquity. 
 
 1 Modern editors have altered this to, ‘ did deal with him.’ 
 
 [3.] Besides, his soul went down to hell, and his 
 body to the bars of the grave. Ps. xvi. 10 . Ac. ii. 3i. 
 And had hell, death, or the grave, been strong 
 enough to hold him, then he had suffered the ven- 
 geance of eternal fire to all eternity. But, 0 
 blessed Jesus! how didst thou discover thy love 
 to man in thy thus suffering! And, 0 God the 
 Father! how didst thou also declare thy purity 
 and exactness of thy justice, in that, though it 
 was thine only, holy, innocent, harmless, and un¬ 
 defiled Son Jesus, that did take on him our nature, 
 and represent our persons, answering for our sins, 
 instead of ourselves! Thou didst so wonderfully 
 pour out thy wrath upon him, to the making of 
 him cry out, ‘ My God, my God, why hast thou 
 forsaken me?’ And, 0 Lord Jesus! what a glorious 
 conquest hast thou made over the enemies of our 
 souls, even wrath, sin, death, hell, and devils, in 
 that thou didst wring thyself from under the power 
 of them all! And not only so, but hast led them 
 captive which would have led us captive ; and also 
 hast received for us that glorious and unspeakable 
 inheritance that ‘ eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, 
 neither have entered into the heart of man to 
 conceive ; and also hast given thine some dis¬ 
 covery thereof through thy Spirit. 
 
 And now, sinner, together with this consider, 
 
 4. That though Jesus Christ hath done all 
 these things for sinners, yet the devils make it 
 their whole work, and continually study how they 
 may keep thee and others from enjoying of these 
 blessed privileges that have been thus obtained for 
 sinners by this sweet Jesus. He labours, I say, 
 (1.) To keep thee ignorant of thy state by nature. 
 (2.) To harden thy heart against the ways of God. 
 (3.) To inflame thy heart with love to sin and the 
 ways of darkness. And, (4.) To get thee to con¬ 
 tinue herein. For that is the way, he knows, to 
 get thee to be a partaker with him of flaming hell- 
 fire, even the same that he himself is fallen into, 
 together with the rest of the wicked world, by 
 reason of sin. Look to it therefore. 
 
 [ Fourth Encouragement .] But now, in the next 
 place, a word of encouragement to you that are the 
 saints of the Lord. 
 
 1. Consider what a happy state thou art in 
 that hast gotten the faith of the Lord Jesus into 
 thy soul; but be sure thou have it, I say, how safe, 
 how sure, how happy art thou! For when others 
 go to hell, thou must go to heaven; when others 
 go to the devil, thou must go to God ; when as 
 others go to prison, thou must be set at liberty, 
 at ease, and at freedom; when others must roar 
 for sorrow of heart, then thou slialt also sing for 
 the joy of heart. 
 
 2. Consider thou must have all thy well-spent 
 life to follow thee instead of all thy sins and the 
 glorious blessings of the gospel instead of the 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 707 
 
 dreadful curses and condemnations of the law; the 
 blessing of the father, instead of a fiery sentence 
 from the judge. 
 
 3. Let dissolution come when it will, it can 
 do thee no harm; for it will be but only a pas¬ 
 sage out of a prison into a palace; out of a sea of 
 troubles into a haven of rest; out of a crowd of 
 enemies, to an innumerable company of true, loving, 
 and faithful friends; out of shame, reproach, and 
 contempt, into exceeding great and eternal glory. 
 For death shall not hurt thee with his sting, nor 
 bite thee with his soul-murdering teeth; but shall 
 be a welcome guest to thee, even to thy soul, in 
 that it is sent to free thee from thy troubles which 
 thou art in whilst here in this world dwelling in 
 the tabernacle of clay. 
 
 4. Consider however it goes with friends and 
 relations, yet it will go well with thee. Ec. viii. 12 . 
 However it goes with the wiched, yet ‘ surely I 
 know;’ mark, ‘yet surely I know,’ saith he, 
 
 ‘ that it shall be well with them that fear God, 
 which fear before him.’ And therefore let this, 
 
 (1.) I 11 the first place, cause thee cheerfully to 
 exercise thy patience under all the calamities, 
 crosses, troubles, and afflictions that may come 
 upon thee; and, by patient continuance in well¬ 
 doing, to commit both thyself and thine affairs 
 and actions into the hands of God, through Jesus 
 Christ, as to a faithful Creator, who is true in his 
 word, and lovetli to give unto thee whatsoever he 
 hath promised to thee. 
 
 (2.) And, therefore, to encourage thee while thou 
 art here with comfort to hold on for all thy crosses 
 in this thy journey, be much in considering the 
 place that thou must go into so soon as dissolution 
 comes. It must be into heaven, to God the judge 
 of all, to an innumerable company of angels, to 
 the spirits of just men made perfect, to the general 
 assembly and church of the first-born, whose 
 names are written in heaven, and to Jesus, to the 
 redeemer, who is the mediator of the new covenant, 
 and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaks better 
 things for thee than Abel’s did for Cain. He. 
 
 xi. 22 — 21 . 
 
 (3.) Consider that when the time of the dead 
 that they shall be raised is come, then shall thy 
 body be raised out of the grave and be glorified, 
 and be made like to Jesus Christ. Phi. m. 21 . 0 
 
 excellent condition! 
 
 (4.) When Jesus Christ shall sit on the throne 
 of his glory you also shall sit with him, even when 
 he shall sit on the throne of his glory. 0 will not 
 this be glorious, that when thousands, and thou¬ 
 sands of thousands shall be arraigned before the 
 judgment-seat of Christ, then for them to sit with 
 him upon the throne, together with him to pass the 
 sentence upon the ungodly. 1 Co. vi. 2 , 3 . Will it 
 not be glorious to enjoy those things that eye hath 
 
 not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath entered into 
 the heart of man to conceive? 
 
 Will it not be glorious to have this sentence, 
 ‘ Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the king¬ 
 dom prepared for you from the foundation of the 
 world?’ Will it not be glorious to enter then with 
 the angels and saints into that glorious kingdom? 
 Will it not be glorious for thee to bo in glory with 
 them, while others are in unutterable torments? 
 0 then, how will it comfort thee to see thou hast 
 not lost that glory; to think that the devil hath 
 not got thy soul, that thy soul should be saved, 
 and that not from a little, but from an exceeding 
 danger; 1 not with a little, but a great salvation. 
 0, therefore, let the saints be joyful in glory, let 
 them triumph over all their enemies. Let them 
 begin to sing heaven upon earth, triumph before 
 they come to glory, salvation, even when they are 
 in the midst of their enemies, for ‘ this honour 
 have all his saints.’ Fs. cxiix. 9 . 
 
 Verse 29.— e Abraham said unto him, They have Moses and the 
 prophets, let them hear them.’ 
 
 In the verses foregoing you see there is a dis¬ 
 covery of the lamentable state of the poor soul 
 that dies out of Christ, and the special favour of 
 God. And also how little the glorious God of 
 heaven doth regard and take notice of their most 
 miserable condition. 
 
 Now in this verse he doth magnify the word 
 which was spoken to the people by the prophets 
 and apostles, * They have Moses and the prophets, 
 let them hear them.’ As if he should say, thou 
 askest me that I should send Lazarus back aiyain 
 into the world to preach to them that live there, 
 that they might escape that doleful place that 
 thou art in. What needs that? Have they not 
 Moses and the prophets? Have they not had my 
 ministers and servants sent unto them and coming 
 as from me? I sent Enoch and Noah, Moses and 
 Samuel. I sent David, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, 
 Daniel, Hosea, and the rest of the prophets, to¬ 
 gether with Peter, Paul, John, Matthew, James, 
 Jude, with the rest; ‘ Let them hear them.’ What 
 they have spoken by divine inspiration I will own, 
 whether it be for the damnation of those that re¬ 
 ject, or the saving of them that receive their 
 doctrine. And, therefore, what need have they 
 that one should be sent unto them in another wav ? 
 
 V 
 
 ‘ They have Moses and the prophets, let them hear 
 them.’ Let them receive their word, close in with 
 the doctrine declared by them. I shall not at this 
 time speak anything to that word ‘ Abraham,’ 
 having touched upon it already; but shall tell you 
 what is to be understood by these words, ‘ They 
 
 1 Altered in the third edition to ‘ a great exceeding danger.’ 
 —(Ed.) 
 
70S 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM IIELL, OR 
 
 have Moses and the prophets, let them hear them.’ 
 The things that I shall observe from hence are 
 these:— 
 
 [First.] That the scriptures spoken by the holy 
 men of God are a sufficient rule to instruct to sal¬ 
 vation them that do assuredly believe and close in 
 with what they hold forth. ‘ They have Moses 
 and the prophets, let them hear them.’ That is, 
 if they would escape that doleful place, and be 
 saved indeed from the intolerable pains of hell-fire, 
 as they desire, they have that which is sufficient 
 to counsel them. ‘They have Moses and the 
 prophets;’ let them be instructed by them, * Let 
 them hear them.’ For ‘ all scripture is given by 
 inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, 
 for reproof, for correction, for instruction in right¬ 
 eousness;’ why? ‘That the man of God may be 
 perfect, throughly furnished unto all good works.’ 
 
 2 Ti. iii. 16 , 17 . Do but mark these words, ‘All scrip¬ 
 ture is profitable.’ All; take it where you will, 
 and in what place you wiF, ‘All is profitable:’ 
 For what? ‘ That the man of God,’ or he that is 
 bound for heaven, and would instruct others in' 
 their progress thither. 
 
 It is profitable to instruct him, in case he be 
 ignorant; to reprove him, in case he transgress ; 
 to correct him, if he hath need of it; to confirm 
 him, if he be wavering. It is profitable for doc¬ 
 trine, and all this in a very righteous way—that 
 the poor soul may not only be helped, but tho¬ 
 roughly furnished, not only to some, but to all good 
 works. And when Paul would counsel Timothy 
 to stick close to the things that are sound and sure, 
 presently he puts him upon the scripture, saying, 
 
 * From a child thou hast known the holy scrip¬ 
 tures, which are able to make thee wise unto 
 salvation, through, faith which is in Christ Jesus.’ 
 The scripture holds forth God’s mind and will, of 
 his love and mercy towards man, and also the 
 creature’s carriage towards him from first to last; 
 so if thou wouldest know the love of God in Christ 
 to sinners, then ‘ search the scriptures, for they 
 are they which testify of him.’ 
 
 Wouldst thou know what thou art, and what is 
 in thine heart? Then search the Scriptures and 
 see what is written in them. Ro. i. 29-31; iii. 9-18. Je. 
 xvii. 9 . Ge. vi. 5; viii. 21. Ep. iv. is, with many others. 
 The Scriptures, I say, they are able to give a man 
 perfect instruction into any of the things of God 
 necessary to faith and godliness, if he hath but an 
 honest heart seriously to weigh and ponder the 
 several things contained in them. As to instance 
 in things more particular for the further clearing 
 up of this. And first, if we come to the creation 
 of the world. 
 
 Wouldst thou know somewhat concerning that? 
 Then read Ge. i. andii., and compare them with rs. 
 xxxiii. 6.; also is. lxvi. 2 . rr. viii. towards the end. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether he made them of 
 something or nothing? Read He. xi. 3 . 
 
 o o 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether he put forth any 
 labour in making them, as we do in making things ? 
 Read Fs. xxxiii. 9 . 
 
 If thou wouldest know whether man was made by 
 God corrupt or upright, read Ec.vii. 29 . Ge. i. 10 ,18,25,31. 
 
 Wouldst thou know where God did place man 
 after he had made him? Read Ge. ii. 15. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether that man did 
 live there all his time or not? Then read Ge. iii. 
 
 23, 24. 
 
 If thou wouldest know whether man be still 
 in that state by nature that God did place him 
 in ? Then read Ec. vii, 29 ., and compare it with 
 Ro. V. 16. Ep. ii. 1-3. ‘ God made men upright, but 
 
 they have sought out many inventions.’ 
 
 If thou wouldest know whether the man were 
 first beguiled, or the woman that God made an 
 help-mate for him ? Read Ge. iii. 6, and compare 
 with 1 Tim. ii. 14. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether God looked upon 
 Adam’s eating [the fruit of] the forbidden tree 
 to be sin or no? Read Ro. v. 12 - 15 , and compare it 
 with Ge. iii. 17. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether it were the devil 
 who beguiled them, or whether it was a natural 
 serpent, such as do haunt the desolate places? 
 Read Ge. iii. 13, with Re. XX. 1-3. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether that sin be imputed 
 to us? Read Ro. v. 12 - 15 , and compare it with Ep. ii. 2 . 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether man was cursed 
 for his sin? Read Ga. iii. 10 . Ro. v. 15 . 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether the curse did fall 
 on man, or on the whole creation with him? Com¬ 
 pare Ge. iii. 17, with Ro. viii. 20-22. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether man be defiled in 
 every part of him by the sin he hath committed ? 
 Then read Is. i. 6. 
 
 Wouldst thou know man’s- inclination so soon 
 as he is born? Read Ps. lviii. 3. ‘ The wicked are 
 
 estranged from the womb; they go astray as soon 
 as they be born.’ 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether man once fallen 
 from God by transgression, can recover himself by 
 all he can do ? Then read Ro. iii. 20 , 23 . 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether it be the desire of 
 the heart of man by nature, to follow God in his 
 own way or no? Compare Ge. vi. 5, and Ge. viii. 21 , 
 with Ho. xi. 7. 
 
 Wouldst thou know how God’s heart stood 
 affected toward man before the world began? 
 Compare Ep. i. 4, with 2 Ti. i. 9. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether sin were Sufficient 
 to draw God's love from his creatures? Compare 
 Je. iii. 7, and Mi. vii. 18, with Ito. v. 6-8. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether God’s love did 
 still abide towards his creatures for anything 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 709 
 
 they could do to make him amends ? Then read 
 
 He. xL 5 - 8 . 
 
 Wouldst thou know how God could still love his 
 creatures, and do his justice no wrong? Read 
 Ro. m. 24-26. ‘ Being justified freely by his grace, 
 
 through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus; 
 whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation ’ for 
 sin, ‘ through faith in his blood, to declare his 
 righteousness for the remission of sins that are 
 past, through the forbearance of God. To declare, 
 I say, at this time his righteousness, that he 
 might be just, and the justifier of him which be- 
 lieveth in Jesus.’ 
 
 That is, God having his justice satisfied in the 
 blood, and righteousness, and death of his own Son 
 Jesus Christ for the sins of poor sinners, he can 
 now save them that come to him, though never so 
 great sinners, and do his justice no wrong, because 
 it hath had a full and complete satisfaction given 
 it by that blood, l j n . i. 7 , 8. 
 
 Wouldst thou know who he was, and what he 
 was, that did out of his love die for sinners, then 
 compare Jn. iii. ig, n. r 0 . v. s, with is. ix. g. 
 
 ^ ouldst thou know whether this Saviour had 
 a body of flesh and bones before the world v r as, 
 or took it from the Virgin Mary ? Then read Ga.iv.4. 
 
 Wouldst thou know -whether he did in that 
 body bear all our sins, and where ? Then read 
 i Pe. ii. 24. ‘ Who bare our sins in his own body on 
 the tree.’ 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether he did rise again 
 after he was crucified, with the very same body? 
 Then read Lu. xxiv. 33-41. 
 
 V ouldst thou know whether he did eat or drink 
 with his disciples after he rose out of the grave ? 
 Then read Lu. xxiv. 42, and Ac. x. 41. 
 
 If thou wouldst be persuaded of the truth of 
 this, that that very body is now above the clouds 
 and stars, read Ac. i. 9— n, and Lu. xxiv. toward the end. 
 
 If thou wouldst know that the Quakers hold an 
 error that say the body of Christ is within them ; x 
 consider the same scripture. 
 
 Wouldst thou know what that Christ that died 
 for sinners is doing in that place whither he is 
 gone? Then read Heb. vii. 24. 
 
 V, ouldst thou know who shall have life by him, 
 read 1 Ti. i. 14, 15, and Ro. v. 6 - 8 , which say, * Christ 
 died ’ for sinners, * for the ungodly.’ 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether they that live and 
 die in their sins shall go to heaven or not? Then 
 read 1 Co. vi. 10. Re. xxi. 8 , 27 , which saith, ‘They shall 
 
 1 Bunyan published this work before the Quakers were 
 formed into a Society. Many of the wildest enthusiasts called 
 themselves Quakers. Barclay, in his Apology, very clearly 
 defines what the Society of Friends mean bv, ‘ Christ within 
 the hope of glory.’ ‘ it is a spiritual, heavenly, and invisible 
 principle, in which God, as Father, Son, and Spirit, dwells or 
 reigns. —Prop. V. and VI.—(Ed.) 
 
 have their part in the lake which burnetii with fire 
 and brimstone.’ 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether man’s obedience will 
 obtain that Christ should die for them, or save them? 
 Then read Mar. ii. 17 . Ro. V. G, 7 . 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether righteousness, jus¬ 
 tification, and sanctification do come through the 
 virtue of Christ’s blood? Compare Ro. ▼. #, with 
 
 Heb. xii. 12 . 
 
 Wouldst thou know -whether natural man can 
 abstain from the outward act of sin against the law, 
 merely by a principle of nature ? Then compare 
 -well Ro. ii. 14 , with Phi. iii. 6 . 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether a man by nature 
 may know something of the invisible tilings of 
 God? Compare seriously Ro.i. 20, 21, with ii. 14,15. 
 
 Wouldst thou know how far a man may go on 
 in a profession of the gospel, and yet fall away ? 
 Then read Heb. vi. 4-6. * They may taste the good 
 
 Word of God, and the powers of the world to come.’ 
 They may taste ‘the heavenly gift, and be partakers 
 of the Holy Ghost, and yet so fall as never to be 
 recovered, or renewed again unto repentance. See 
 also Lu. xiii. 
 
 Wouldst thou know how bard it is to go to 
 hea\ 611 ? Read Mat. vii, 1.3, 14 . Lu. xiii. 24. 
 
 Wouldst thou know whether a man by nature 
 be a friend to God, or an enemy? Then read Ro. 
 
 v. 10 . Col. i. 21 . 
 
 V ouldst thou know what, or who they are that 
 shall go to heaven ? Then read jn. iii. 3-7, and 2 Co. 
 v. 17. Also, wouldst thou know what a sad thing 
 it is for any to turn their backs upon the gospel 
 of Jesus Christ? Then read iieb. x. 23,29, and Mar. 
 
 xvi. 16 
 
 W ouldst thou know what is the wages of sin ? 
 Then read Ro. vi. 23. [‘ The wages of sin is death. ’] 
 
 Wouldst thou know whither those do go that die 
 unconverted to the faith of Christ? Then read 
 
 Ps. ix. 17 , and Is. xiv. 9 . 
 
 Reader, here might I spend many sheets of 
 paper, yea, I might upon this subject write a very 
 great book, but I shall now forbear, desiring thee 
 to be very conversant in the Scriptures, ‘ for they 
 are they which testify of Jesus Christ.’ j n . v. 39. 
 The Bereans were counted noble upon this account: 
 ‘These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, 
 in that they received the Word with all readiness 
 of mind, and searched the scriptures daily,’ &c. 
 
 Ac. xvii. 11 . But here let me give thee one caution, 
 that is, have a care that thou do not satisfy thyself 
 with a bare search of them, without a real applica¬ 
 tion of him whom they testify of to thy soul, lest 
 instead of faring the better for thy doing this work, 
 thou dost fare a great deal the worse, and thy con¬ 
 demnation be very much heightened, in that though 
 thou didst read so often the sad state of those that 
 die in sin, and the glorious estate of them that 
 
710 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 close in with Christ, yet thou thyself shouldest he 
 such a fool as to lose Jesus Christ, notwithstand¬ 
 ing thy hearing, and reading so plentifully of him. 
 
 «They have Moses and the prophets, let them 
 hear them.’ 
 
 As if he should say, what need have they that 
 one should be sent to them from the dead? Have 
 they not Moses and the prophets ? Hath not Moses' 
 told them the danger of living in sin? De. xxvii. 15 - 26 ; 
 xxviii. is— 68 ; xxix. is— 22. Hath he not theie told them, 
 what a sad state those persons are in that deceive 
 themselves with the deceit of their hearts, saying 
 they shall have peace though they follow their 
 sins, in these words: ‘ And when he heareth the 
 words of this curse, he blessetli himself in his heart, 
 saying, I shall have peace though I go on, or 
 « walk in the imagination of mine heart, to add 
 drunkenness to thirst. The Lord will not spare 
 him, but then the anger of the Lord and his jealousy 
 shall smoke against that man, and all the curses 
 that are written in this book shall lie upon him, 
 and the Lord shall blot out his name from under 
 heaven.’ 
 
 Again, Did not Moses write of the Saviour that 
 was to come afterwards into the world? De. mil is. 
 Nay, have not all the prophets from Samuel, with 
 all those that follow after, prophesied, and foretold 
 these things ? Therefore what need have they that 
 I should work such a miracle, as to send one from 
 the dead unto them? ‘ They have Moses and the 
 prophets, let them hear them.’ 
 
 [Second.] From whence observe again, that God 
 doth honour the writings of Moses and the prophets, 
 as much, nay more, than if one should rise from the 
 dead: ‘ Should not a people seek unto their God?’ 
 What, seek ‘for the living among the dead? To 
 the law, and to the testimony,’ saith God, ‘if they 
 speak not according to this word, it is because there 
 is no light in them. ’ Is. viii. 19 , 20. And let me tell 
 you plainly, I do believe that the devil knows this 
 full well, which makes him labour to beget in the 
 hearts of his disciples and followers light thoughts 
 of them; and doth persuade them, that even a 
 motion from their own beguiled conscience, or from 
 his own wicked spirit, is to be observed and obeyed 
 before them. When the very apostle of Jesus 
 Christ, though he heard a voice from the excellent 
 glory, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son,’ &c., yet 
 writing to the churches, he commends the writing 
 of the prophets before it, saying, ‘ We have also a 
 more sure word of the prophets, to which ye do 
 well to take heed,’ &c. 2 p e . i. 17-10. 1 Now if thou 
 doubtest whether that place be meant the scriptures, 
 the words of the prophets or no, read but the next 
 verse, where he addeth for a certain confirmation 
 thereof, these words, ‘ Knowing this first, that no 
 
 1 This quotation, probably made from memory, is from the 
 Genevan or Puritan version of the Bible.—(E d.) 
 
 prophecy of the Scripture is of any private inter¬ 
 pretation. For the prophecy came not in old time 
 by the will of man, but holy men of God spake as 
 they were moved by the Holy Ghost.’ 
 
 And therefore what a sad thing is it for those 
 that go about to disown the Scriptures ! I tell you, 
 however they may slight them now, yet when they 
 come into hell, they will see their folly: ‘ They have 
 Moses and the prophets, let them hear them. 
 
 Further, who are they that are so tossed to and 
 fro, with the several winds of doctrine that have 
 been broached in these days, but such for the most 
 part, as have had a light esteem of the scriptures ; 
 for the ground of error, as Christ saith, is because 
 they know not them. Mar. xii. 24 . And indeed, it is 
 just with God to give them over to follow their own 
 dark blinded consciences, to be led into errors, that 
 they might be damned into hell, who did not believe 
 that the things contained in the Scripture were 
 the truth, that they might be saved and go to 
 heaven. I cannot well tell how to have done speak¬ 
 ing for, and on the Scriptures side; only this I 
 consider, a word is enough to the wise ; and theie- 
 fore I shall commit these things into the hands of 
 them that are of God; and as for the rest, I shall 
 say to them, rather than God will save them from 
 hell with the breach of his holy Word, if they had 
 a thousand souls apiece, God would destroy them 
 all; for ‘the Scripture cannot be broken.’ Ju. x. 85. 
 
 Verse 30.—‘ And be said. Nay, Father Abraham ; but if one 
 went unto them from the dead, they will repent.’ 
 
 The verse before, you know, as I told you, it was 
 part of an answer to such as lose their souls; so 
 it is a vindication of the Scriptures of Moses and 
 the prophets, ‘ They have Moses and the prophets, 
 let them hear them.’ 
 
 Now this verse is an answer to what was said 
 in the former; and such an one as hath in it a 
 rejection of the former answer. ‘Nay, father 
 Abraham.’ Nay, saith he, do not say so, do not put 
 them off with this; send one from the dead, and 
 then there will be some hopes. It is true thou 
 speakest of the Scripture, of Moses and the pro¬ 
 phets, and sayest, ‘ let them hear them ; but these 
 things are not so well as I could wish, I had lather 
 thou wouldst send one from the dead. In these 
 words therefore, Nay, father Abraham, there is a 
 repulse given; nay, let it not be so ; nay, I do not 
 like of that answer. Hear Moses and the pro¬ 
 phets, nay. The same expression is used by Chiist, 
 Lu. xiii. 2 , s. Think you that they upon whom the 
 tower of Siloam fell, were sinners above others. 
 
 ‘ I tell you nay; but except ye repent, ye shall 
 all likewise perish.’ So here, Nay, father Abra¬ 
 ham, &LC. 
 
 By this word Nay, therefore, is signified a reject¬ 
 ing the first answer. 
 
 * 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 711 
 
 Now observe, I pray you, the reason why he says 
 Nay, is, because God doth put over all those that 
 will be saved, to observe and receive the truth con¬ 
 tained in Scripture, and believe that. To have a 
 high esteem of them, and to love and search them, 
 as Christ saith, ‘ Search the Scriptures,’ for ‘ they 
 are they which testify of me.’ jn. v. 39. But the 
 damned say, Nay; as if he had said, This is the 
 thing. To be short, my brethren are unbelievers, 
 and do not regard the Word of God. I know it 
 by myself, for when I was in the world, it was so 
 with me ; many a good sermon did I hear, many a 
 time was I admonished, desired, entreated, be- 
 seeched, threatened, forewarned of what I now 
 suffer; but alas! I was ignorant, self-conceited, 
 surly, obstinate, and rebellious. Many a time the 
 preacher told hell would be my portion, the devil 
 would wreck his malice on me; God would pour 
 on me his sore displeasure; but he had as good 
 have preached to the stock, to the post, to the 
 stones I trod on ; his words rang in mine ears, but 
 I kept them from mine heart. I remember he 
 alleged many a Scripture, but those I valued not; 
 the Scriptures, thought I, what are they? A dead 
 letter, a little ink and paper, of three or four shil¬ 
 lings’price. 1 Alas! What is the Scripture? 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; 2 but 
 for the holy Scriptures 1 cared not. And as it 
 was with me then, so it is with my brethren now, 
 we were all of one spirit, loved all the same sins, 
 slighted all the same counsels, promises, encourage¬ 
 ments and threatenings of the Scriptures ; and they 
 are still, as I left them, still in unbelief, still pro¬ 
 voking God, and rejecting good counsel, so hardened 
 in their ways, so bent to follow sin, that let the 
 Scriptures be showed to them daily, let the mes¬ 
 sengers of Christ preach till their hearts ache, till 
 they fall down dead with preaching, they will rather 
 trample it under foot, and swine-like rend them, 
 than close in with those gentle and blessed proffers 
 of the gospel. 
 
 ‘ Nay, father Abraham, but if one should rise 
 from the dead, they would repent.’ Though they 
 have Moses and the prophets, the Scriptures, they 
 
 1 How favourable an alteration has been produced by per¬ 
 mitting the free publication of the Bible. In Bunyan’s time, 
 under the monopoly of church and state, they were full of typo¬ 
 graphical errors, and at a high price. When eggs were four- 
 a-penny, one hundred and sixty must have beeu paid for an 
 ordinary copy; while now a handsome one, with gilt edges, 
 may be had for eighteen or twenty. Thanks to those good men 
 who broughfrabout this wondrous change.— (Ed.) 
 
 2 t he improvement in the whole class of books used by 
 
 children, since the Tract Society commenced its operations, 
 is almost incredible. None but antiquarians have seen the 
 books which Banyan names, but they are as inferior to Who 
 killed Cock Robin , as that is to Dr. Watt’s Divine Sonos. 
 -(Ed.) y 
 
 will not repent and close in with Jesus Christ, 
 though the Scriptures do witness against them. 
 If therefore there be any good done to them, they 
 must have it another way. I think, saith he, it 
 would work much on them ‘ if one should rise from 
 the dead.’ And this truth indeed is so evident, 
 that ungodly ones have a light esteem of the Scrip¬ 
 tures, that it needs not many strong arguments to 
 prove it, being so evidently manifested by their 
 every day’s practice, both in words and actions, 
 almost in all things they say and do. Yet for the 
 satisfaction of the reader, I shall show you by a 
 scripture or two, though I might show many, that 
 this was and is true, with the generality of the 
 world. See the words of Nehemiah in his 9 th chap¬ 
 ter concerning the children of Israel, who though 
 the Lord offered them mercy upon mercy, as it is 
 from verse 19-25, yet verse 26, saith he, ‘ Neverthe¬ 
 less they were disobedient ’ for all thy goodness 
 towards them, ‘and rebelled against thee.’ But 
 how ? ‘ And cast thy law behind their backs; slew 
 
 thy prophets which testified against them, to turn 
 them to thee, and they wrought great provocations.’ 
 
 Observe, 1. They sinned against mercy. And 
 then, 2. They slighted the law, or Word of God. 
 3. They slew the prophets that declared it unto 
 them. 4. The Lord counts it a great provocation. 
 See iieb. iii. io-i 9 . Zee. rii. u, 12. ‘ But they refused to 
 
 hearken,’ saith he, there of the wicked, ‘ and pulled 
 away the shoulder, and stopped their ears, that 
 they should not hear ’ the law. ‘ Yea, they made 
 their hearts ’ hard as ‘an adamant stone, lest they 
 should hear the law, and the words which the Lord 
 of hosts hath sent ’ unto them ‘ in his Spirit by the 
 former prophets,’ &c. 
 
 Mark, I pray you, here is also, (1.) A refusing 
 to hearken to the words of the prophets. (2.) That 
 they might so do, they stopped their ears. (3.) If 
 anything was to be done, they pulled away their 
 shoulder. (4.) To effect this, they labour to make 
 their hearts hard as an adamant stone. (5.) And 
 all this, lest they should hear and close in with 
 Jesus, and live, and be delivered from the wrath 
 to come. All which tilings do hold out an unwil¬ 
 lingness to submit to, and embrace the words of 
 God, and so Jesus Christ which is testified of by 
 them. Many other scriptures I might bring in 
 for confirmation of the thing, as that in Am. vii. 12,13 ; 
 also 1 Sa. ii. 24 , 25 . 2 Ch. xxv. 15 , 16 . Je. vii. 23-28 ; xvi. 12 . 
 Read also seriously that saying in 2 ch. xxxvi. 15, 
 where he saith, ‘And the Lord God of their 
 fathers sent to them by his messengers, rising up 
 betimes, because lie had compassion on his people, 
 and on his dwelling-place.’ And did they make 
 them welcome? No, but they mocked the mes¬ 
 sengers of God, and despised his words. And was 
 that all? No, they ‘misused his prophets.’ IIow 
 long? ‘ Until the wrath of the Lord arose against 
 
712 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OB 
 
 them. Till there was no remedy.’ See also Je. 
 
 xxix. 19 ; xxv. 3—7. Lu. xi. 49. 
 
 And besides, the conversion of almost all men 
 doth bear witness to the same, both religious and 
 profane persons, in that they daily neglect, reject, 
 and turn their backs upon the plain testimony of 
 the Scriptures. As, 
 
 First. Take the tiireatenings laid down in holy 
 writ, and how are they disregarded ? There are 
 but a few places in the Bible but there are threat- 
 enings against one sinner or other; against 
 drunkards, swearers, liars, proud persons, strum¬ 
 pets, whoremongers, covetous, railers, extortioners, 
 thieves, lazy persons. In a word, all manner of 
 sins are reproved, and without faith in the Lord 
 Jesus, there is a sore punishment to be executed 
 on the committers of them; and all this made 
 mention of in the Scriptures. 
 
 But for all this, how thick, and by heaps, do 
 these wretches walk up and down our streets? 1 
 Do but go into the alehouses, and you shall see 
 almost every room besprinkled with them, so foam¬ 
 ing out their own shame, that it is enough to make 
 the heart of a saint to tremble, insomuch that they 
 would not be bound to have society with them any 
 Ionf while for all the world. For as the ways of 
 
 O 
 
 the godly are not liked of by the wicked, even so 
 the ways of the wicked * are an abomination to the 
 
 just.’ Pr. xxix. 27. Ps. cxx. 5, 6. 
 
 [1.] The Scripture says, ‘ Cursed is the man that 
 trusteth in man, and maketli flesh his arm, and 
 whose heart departeth from the Lord.’ Je. xvii. 5. 
 
 And yet how many poor souls are there in the 
 world, that stand in so much awe and dread of 
 men, and do so highly esteem their favour, that 
 they will rather venture their souls in the hands of 
 the devil with their favour, than they will fly to 
 Jesus Christ for the salvation of their souls ? Nay, 
 though they be convinced in their souls, that the 
 way is the way of God ; yet how do they labour to 
 stifle conviction, and turn their ears away from the 
 truth, and all because they will not lose the favour 
 of an opposite neighbour? 0! I dare not for my 
 master, my brother, my landlord, I shall lose his 
 favour, his house of work, and so decay my calling. 
 0 , saith another, I would willingly go in this way, 
 but for my father, he chides and tells me he will 
 not stand my friend when I come to want; I shall 
 never enjoy a pennyworth of his goods; he will 
 disinherit me. And I dare not, saith another, for 
 my husband, for he will be a railing, and tells me 
 he will turn me out of doors, he will beat me, and 
 
 1 Such was the then state of society, fostered by the Book 
 of Sports and Pastimes, authorized by Charles I. to be used on 
 Sunday, and by Rupert and his cavaliers with the civil war, 
 notwithstanding the restraints of the Commonwealth. 'I hey 
 are very young, or dim-sighted, or badly read, who do not now 
 see a wonderful improvement in the state of public morals and 
 religion.—(E d.) 
 
 cut off my legs. But I tell you, if any of these, or 
 any other things be so prevalent with thee now, as 
 to keep thee from seeking after Christ in his ways, 
 they will also be so prevalent with God against 
 thee, as to make him cast off thy soul, because 
 thou didst rather trust man than God ; and delight 
 in the embracing of man rather than in the favour 
 of the Lord. 2 
 
 2. Again, the Scripture saith, ‘ He that being 
 often reproved, hardenetli Ids neck, shall suddenly 
 be destroyed, and that without remedy.’ Pr. xxix. l. 
 Yet many are so far from turning, though they 
 have been convinced of their wretched state a 
 hundred times, that when convictions or trouble for 
 sin comes on their consciences, they go on still in 
 the same manner resisting and choking the same, 
 though remediless destruction be hard at their 
 heels. 
 
 3. Again thou hast heard say, ‘Except a man 
 
 be born again,’ ‘ he cannot enter into the kingdom 
 of God.’ Jn. m. 3 - 7 . And yet thou goest on in a 
 natural state, an unregenerate condition ; nay, thou 
 dost resolve never to turn nor be changed, though 
 hell be appointed on purpose to swallow up such. 
 Is. xiv. 9. ‘ The wicked shall be turned into hell, and 
 
 all the nations that forget God.’ Ps. ix. 17. 
 
 4. Again, the Scripture saith plainly that he 
 that loveth and maketli a lie shall have his part 
 ‘ in the lake which burnetii with fire and brimstone. 
 Re. xxi. 8, 27 . And yet thou art so far from dreading 
 it, that it is thy delight to jest and jeer, and lie tor 
 a penny, or twopence, or sixpence, again. And 
 also if thou canst make the rest of thy companions 
 me'Ty, by telling things that are false, of them 
 that are better than thyself, thou dost not care a 
 straw. Or if thou hearest a lie from, or of another, 
 thou wilt tell it, and swear to the truth of it, 0 
 miserable! 
 
 5. Thou hast heard and read, that ‘lie that be- 
 lieveth not shall be damned.’ Mar. xvi. 16 . And that 
 ‘ all men have not faith.’ 2 Th. m. 2 . And yet thou 
 dost so much disregard these things, that it is like 
 thou didst scarce ever so much as examine seriously 
 whether thou wast in the faith or no ; but dost con¬ 
 tent thyself with the hypocrite’s hope, which at 
 the last God will cut off, and count it no better 
 than the spider’s web, Job viii. 13,14, or the house 
 that is builded on the sands. Lu. vi. 49. Nay, thou 
 peradventure dost flatter thyself, and thinkest that 
 thy faith is as good as the best of them all; when, 
 alas, poor soul, thou mayest have no saving faith 
 at all ; which thou hast not, if thou be not born 
 again, and made a new creature. 2 Co. ii. n. 
 
 2 These persecutions are fast disappearing. One of my near 
 relatives was locked into a first floor parlour in Whitechapel, 
 without hat or shoes, to prevent his going to hear Mr. White- 
 field ; hut, at the risk of being turned out of doors by his parents, 
 he escaped out of the window, by clinging to the rain water- 
 pipe, and enjoyed the public service at the Tabernacle. (Ed.) 
 
TIIE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 713 
 
 f>. Thou hast heard, that he that neglects God’s 
 great salvation shall never escape his great dam¬ 
 nation. He. ii. 3 , compared with Lu. xiv. 24 , and Re. xiv. 
 19 , 20. And yet when thou art invited, intreated, 
 and beseeched to come in, thou wilt make any 
 excuse to serve the turn. Lu. xiv. 17, is. Ro. xii. i. 2 Co. 
 v. 19, 20. Nay, thou wilt be so wicked as to put off 
 Christ time after time, notwithstanding he is so 
 freely proffered to thee ; a little ground, a few 
 oxen, a farm, a wife, a twopenny matter, a play; 
 nay, the fear of a mock, a scoff or a jeer, is of 
 greater weight to draw thee back, than the salva¬ 
 tion of thy soul to draw thee forward. 
 
 7. And thou hast heard, that whosoever will be 
 a friend of the world is the enemy of God. Ja. iv. 4 . 
 But thou regardest not these things, but contrari¬ 
 wise ; rather than thou wilt be out of the friendship 
 and favour of this world, thou wilt sin against 
 thine own conscience, and get thyself into favour 
 by fawning and flattering of the world. Yea, 
 rather than thou wilt go without it, thou wilt dis¬ 
 semble, lie, backbite thy neighbour, and an hun¬ 
 dred other tricks thou wilt have. 
 
 8 . You have heard that the day of judgment is 
 
 near, in which you and I, all of us, must appear 
 before the tribunal of Jesus Christ, and there be 
 made to give an account to him that is ready to 
 judge the quick and the dead ; even of all that 
 ever we did, yea, of all our sins in thought, word, 
 and deed, and shall certainly be damned for them 
 too, if we close not in with our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and what he hath done and suffered for eternal 
 life ; and that not notionally or traditionally, but 
 really and savingly, in the power, and by the opera¬ 
 tion of the Spirit, through faith. Ec. xi. 9 ; xii. 14. Ac. 
 x. 42 ; xvii. 30 , 31 . 2 Co. v. 10 . lie. ix. 27 . Re. xx. 12 . ‘ And I 
 
 saw the dead, small and great, stand before God; 
 and the books were opened: and another book was 
 opened, which is the booh of life, and the dead 
 were judged out of those things which were written 
 in the books.’ There is the book of the creatures, 
 the book of conscience, the book of the Lord’s re¬ 
 membrance, the book of the law, the book of the 
 gospel, 1 Ro. i. 20, compare with Ro. ii. 12, 15. Re. vi. 17. 
 Jn. xii. 48 . Then ‘he shall separate them one from 
 another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep on the 
 right hand, but the goats on his left.’ Hat. xxv. 30-32. 
 
 ‘ And shall say to them on his right hand, Come, 
 ye blessed.’ ver. 34. But to the other, go, or ‘De¬ 
 part, ye cursed.’ ver. 41. Yet, notwithstanding the 
 Scriptures do so plainly and plentifully speak of 
 these things, alas ! who is there that is weaned 
 from the world, and from their sins and pleasures, 
 to fly from the wrath to come ? Mat. iii. 7 . Notwith¬ 
 standing the Scripture saith also that heaven and 
 
 1 For an admirable and deeply impressive account of these 
 distinct books, see Bunyan on The liesurrection of the Bead, 
 vol. ii., p. 108 .—(Ed.) 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 earth shall pass away, rather than one jot, or one 
 tittle of the word shall fail, ‘ till all be fulfilled,’ 
 they are so certain. Lu. xxi. 33. Mat. v. is. 
 
 [Second Promises.] But leaving the threaten- 
 ings, let us come to tiie promises, and speak 
 somewhat of them, and you may see how light 
 men make of them, and how little they set by 
 them, notwithstanding the mouth of the Lord hath 
 spoken them. As 
 
 1. ‘Turn,’ ye fools, ye scorners, ye simple 
 ones, ‘ at my reproof; ’ and ‘ behold I will pour 
 out my Spirit unto you.’ Pr. i. 23. And yet persons 
 had rather be in their foolishness and scorning 
 still, and had rather embrace some filthy lust, 
 than the holy, undefiled, and blessed Spirit of 
 Christ, through the promise, though by it, as 
 many as receive it, ‘ are sealed unto the day of re¬ 
 demption,’ Ep. iv. 30, and although he that lives 
 and dies without it, is none of Christ’s. Ro. viii. 9. 
 
 2. God hath said, if thou do but come to him in 
 Christ, ‘ Though your sins be as ’ red as ‘ scarlet, 
 they shall be as white as snow ; ’ and he will by no 
 means cast thee away. Compare Is. i. is, with Jn. 
 vi. 37. Yet poor souls will not come to Christ that 
 they might have life, Jn.v.40, but rather after their 
 hardness and impenitent heart treasurest up unto 
 themselves wrath against the day of wrath, and 
 revelation of the righteous judgment of God. Ro.ii.5. 
 
 3. Christ Jesus hath said in the Word of truth 
 that if any man will serve and follow him, where 
 le is, ‘there shall also his servant be.’ Jn. xii. 20. 
 But yet poor souls choose rather to follow sin, 
 Satan, and the world, though their companions be 
 the devils and damned souls for ever. Mat. xxv. 41 . 
 
 4. He hath also said, ‘ Seek ye first the king¬ 
 dom of God, and all ’ other ‘things shall be added.’ 
 But let whoso will seek after the kingdom of 
 heaven first for them ; for they will take the first 
 time, while time serves to get the things of this 
 life. And if it be so, that they must needs seek 
 after heaven, or else be damned, they will stay till 
 they have more leisure, or till they can better 
 attend to it; or till they have other things hand¬ 
 some about them, or till they are older; when they 
 have little else to do, or when they come to be 
 sick, and to die. Then, Lord, have mercy upon 
 them ! though it be ten thousand to one but 
 they perish for ever. 
 
 For commonly the Lord hath this way to deal 
 with such sinners, who put him off when he is 
 striving with them, either to laugh at their cala¬ 
 mity, and mock when their fear cometh. rr. i. 20 , 28 . 
 
 Or else send them to the gods they have served, 
 which are the devils. Ju. x. 13,14. Go to the gods 
 you have served, and * let them deliver you,’ saith 
 lie ; compare this with Jn. viii. 44. 
 
 5. He hath said, * There is no man that for- 
 saketh father, or mother, wife, or children, or 
 
 yo 
 
 1 
 
714 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, Gil 
 
 lands, for Ills sake and tlie gospel’s, but shall have 
 a hundred fold in this world, with persecution, and 
 in tiie world to come life everlasting.’ Mar. x. 2 9, so. 
 
 But men, for the most part, are so far oif from 
 believing the certainty of this, that they will scarce 
 lose the earning of a penny to hear the Word of 
 God, the gospel of salvation. Nay, they will 
 neither go themselves, nor suffer others to go, if 
 they can help it, without threatening to do them a 
 mischief, if it lie in their way. Nay, further, 
 many are so far from parting from any worldly 
 gain for Christ’s sake, and the gospel’s, that they 
 are still striving, by hook and by crook, as we say, 
 by swearing, lying, cozening, stealing, covetous¬ 
 ness, extortion, oppression, forgery, bribery, flat¬ 
 tery, or any other way to get more, though they 
 get together with these, death, wrath, damnation, 
 hell, the devil, and all the plagues that God can 
 pour upon them. And if any do not run with 
 them to the same excess of riot, but rather for all 
 their threats will be so bold and careless, as they 
 call it, as to follow the ways of God ; if they can 
 do no more, yet they will whet their tongues like 
 a sword to wound them, and do them the greatest 
 mischief they can, both in speaking against them to 
 neighbours, to wives, to husbands, to landlords, and 
 raising false reports of them. But let such take 
 heed lest they be in such a state, and woeful condi¬ 
 tion as he was in, who said, in vexation and anguish 
 of soul, One drop of cold water to cool my tongue. 
 
 Thus might I add many things out of the holy 
 Writ, both threatenings and promises, besides those 
 heavenly counsels, loving reproofs, free invitations 
 to all sorts of sinners, both old and young, rich 
 and poor, bond and free, wise and unwise. All 
 which have been, now are, and is to be feared, as 
 long as this world lasts, will be trampled under the 
 feet of those swine, I call them not men, who will 
 continue in the same. But take a review of some 
 of them :— 
 
 1. Counsel. 
 
 What heavenly counsel is that where Christ 
 saith, ‘buy of me gold tried by the fire, that thou 
 mayest be rich, and white raiment that thou 
 mayest be clothed, aud that the shame of thy 
 nakedness do not appear.’ Re. m. 18 . Also that, 
 ‘ Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the 
 waters ; yea, come, buy wine and milk without 
 money and without price. ’ is. lv. 1 . ‘ Hear, and 
 
 your soul shall live.’ ver. 3 . ‘Take hold of my 
 strength, that you may make peace with me, and 
 you shall make peace with me.’ is. xxvii. 5 . 
 
 2. Instruction. 
 
 What instruction is here? 
 
 ‘ Hear instruction and be wise, and refuse it not. 
 Blessed is the man that heareth me,’ saith Christ, 
 * watching daily at my gates, waiting at the posts 
 ot my doors. For whoso findeth me, findeth life, 
 
 and shall obtain favour of the Lord.’ rr. viii. 33 - 35 . 
 Take heed that no man deceive you by any means. 
 
 ‘ Labour not for the meat which perisheth, but for 
 that meat which endureth unto everlasting life.’ 
 Jn. vi. 27. ‘Strive to enter in at the strait gate.’ 
 Lu. xiii. 24. ‘Believe on the Lord Jesus, and thou 
 slialt be saved.’ Ac. xvi. 31. ‘Believe not every 
 spirit, but try the spirits.* ‘ Quench not the 
 Spirit.* ‘ Lay hold 011 eternal life.’ ‘Let your 
 light so shine before men, that they may see your 
 good works, and glorify your Father which is in 
 heaven.’ Mat. v. 16 . Take heed, and beware of 
 hypocrisy; ‘watch and be sober,’ ‘learn of me,’ 
 saitli Christ, ‘ come unto me.’ 
 
 3. Forewarning. 
 
 What forewarning is here ? 
 
 ‘Because there is wrath, beware lest he take thee 
 away with his stroke, then a great ransom cannot 
 deliver thee.’ Job xxxvu 18 . ‘Be ye not mockers,- 
 lest your hands be made strong, for I have heard 
 from the Lord God of hosts, a consumption even 
 determined upon the whole earth.’ is. xxviii. 22. 
 
 ‘ Beware, therefore, lest that come upon you that 
 is written, Behold, ye despisers, and wonder and 
 perish. For I work a work in your days, Avhicli 
 ye shall in no wise believe, though a man declare 
 it unto you.’ Ac. xiii. 40, 41. ‘ Let him that thinketh 
 
 he standeth take heed lest he fall.’ 1 Co. x. 12. 
 
 ‘ Watch and pray, that you enter not into tempta¬ 
 tion.’ Mat. xxvi. 41 . ‘ Let us therefore fear lest a 
 
 promise being’ made, and ‘left us of entering into 
 his rest, any of you should seem to come short of 
 it.’ He. iv. 1 . ‘ I will therefore put you in remem¬ 
 
 brance, though you once knew this, how that the 
 Lord having saved the people out of Egypt, after¬ 
 ward destroyed them that believed not.’ Jude 5. 
 
 ‘ Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take 
 thy crown.’ Re. iii. 11 . 
 
 4. Comfort. 
 
 What comfort is here ? 
 
 ‘ Him that corneth to me, I will in no wise cast 
 out.’ Jn. vi. 37. ‘ Come unto me, all ye that labour, 
 
 and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.’ 
 Mat. xi. 28 . ‘ Be of good cheer, thy sins be for¬ 
 given thee.’ Mat. ix. 2. ‘ I will never leave, nor 
 
 forsake thee,’ for * I have loved thee with an 
 everlasting love.’ Je. xxxi. 3 . ‘ I lay down my life 
 
 for the sheep.’ I lay down my life that they may 
 have life. ‘ I am come that they might have life, 
 and that they might have it more abundantly.’ ‘I 
 have heard thee in a time accepted, and in the 
 day of salvation have I succoured thee.’ 2 Co. vi. 2. 
 ‘ Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as 
 white as snow, though they be red like crimson, 
 they shall be as wool.’ ‘For I have blotted out 
 as a thick cloud thy transgressions, and as a cloud 
 thy sins; return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.’ 
 
 Isa xliv. 22 . 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 715 
 
 5. Grief to those that fall short. 
 
 0 sad grief! 
 
 ‘ How have I hated instruction, and my heart 
 despised reproof, and have not obeyed the voice of 
 my teachers, nor inclined mine ear to them that 
 instructed me.’ rr. v. u-13. They shall ‘curse 
 their king and their God, and look upward. And 
 they shall look unto the earth, and behold trouble 
 and darkness, dimness of anguish, and they shall 
 he driven to darkness.* is. viii. 21, 22 . * He hath 
 
 dispersed ’ abroad, ‘ he hath given to the poor, his 
 righteousness endureth for ever. - The wicked shall 
 see it, and be grieved, he shall gnash his teeth, 
 and melt away ; the desire of the wicked shall 
 perish.’ rs. cxii. 9, 10 . ‘There shall be weeping, - 
 when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, 
 and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, and 
 you yourselves thrust out.* Lu. xui. 2 s. All which 
 things are slighted by the world. 
 
 Thus much, in short, touching this, That ungodly 
 men undervalue the Scriptures, and give no credit 
 to them, when the truth that is contained in them 
 is held forth in simplicity unto them, but rather 
 cry out, Nay, but if one should rise from the dead 
 then they think something might be done; when 
 alas, though signs and wonders were wrought by 
 the hands of those that preach the gospel, these 
 poor creatures would never the sooner convert, 
 though they suppose they should, as is evident by 
 the carriages of their forerunners, who albeit the 
 Lord Jesus Christ himself did confirm his doctrine 
 by miracles, as opening blind eyes, casting out of 
 devils, and raising the dead, they were so far from 
 receiving either him or his doctrine, that they put 
 him to death for his pains! Though he had done 
 so many miracles among them, yet they believed 
 not in him. Jn. xii. 37 . 
 
 But to pass this, I shall lay down some of the 
 grounds of their rejecting and undervaluing the 
 /Scriptures, and so pass on. 
 
 1. [Ground .] Because they do not believe that 
 they are the W ord of God, but rather suppose them 
 to be the inventions of men, written by some politi¬ 
 cians, on purpose to make poor ignorant people to 
 submit to some religion and government. 1 Though 
 they do not say this, yet tlieir practices testify the 
 same; as he that when he hears the words of the 
 curse, yet blesseth himself in his heart, and saith 
 he shall have peace, though God saith he shall have 
 none. De. xxix. I 8 - 20 . And this must needs be, for did 
 hut men believe this, that it is the Word of God, 
 then they must believe that he that spake it is true, 
 therefore shall every word and tittle be fulfilled. 
 
 1 This idea prevails to a vast extent. The splendour, power, 
 and intolerance ot national hierarchies is mistaken for the hum¬ 
 ble benignity of the Bible system of Christianity or personal 
 religion. Antichrist, tricked out in robes and gewgaws, is, by 
 perverted minds, received as Christ.— (Ed.) 
 
 And if they come once to this, unless they be stark 
 mad, they will have a care how they do throw 
 themselves under the lash of eternal vengeance. 
 For the reason why the Thessalonians received the 
 Word, was, because they believed it was the Word 
 of God, and not the word of man, which did effec¬ 
 tually work in them by their thus believing. ‘When 
 ye received the Word of God which ye heard of us,’ 
 saith he, ‘ ye received it not as the word of man, 
 but, as it is in truth, the Word of God, which effec¬ 
 tually worketh also in you that believe.’ 1 Th. ii. 13. 
 So that did a man but receive it in hearing:, or 
 reading, or meditating, as it is the Word of God, 
 they would be converted. ‘But the Word preached 
 did not profit, - not being mixed with faith in them 
 that heard it.’ lie. iv. 2 . 
 
 2. [Ground.] Because they do not indeed see 
 themselves by nature heirs of that exceeding wrath 
 and vengeance that the Scriptures testify of. For 
 did they but consider what God intends to do with 
 those that live and die in a natural state, it would 
 either sink them into despair, or make them fly for 
 refuge to the hope that is set before them. But if 
 there be never such sins committed, and never so 
 great wrath denounced, and the time of execution 
 be never so near, yet if the party that is guilty be 
 senseless, and altogether ignorant thereof, he will 
 be careless, and regards it nothing at all. And 
 that man, by nature, is in this condition, it is evi¬ 
 dent. For, take the same man that is senseless, 
 and ignorant of that misery he is in by nature, I 
 say, take him at another time when he is a little 
 awakened, and then you shall hear him roar, and 
 cry out so long as trouble is upon him, and a sense 
 of the wrath of God hanging over his head, Good 
 sirs, what must I do to be saved? 
 
 Though the same man at another time, when 
 his conscience is fallen asleep, and grown hard, 
 will lie like the smith’s dog at the foot of the anvil, 
 though the fire-sparks fly in his face. But, as I 
 said before, when any one is a little awakened, 0 
 what work will one verse, one line, nay, one word 
 of the holy Scriptures make in his heart. 2 He 
 cannot eat, sleep, work, keep company with his 
 former companions, and all because he is afraid 
 that the damnation spoken of in Scripture will 
 fall to his share, like Balaam, who said, ‘I cannot 
 go beyond the word of the Lord.’ No. xxu. is. So 
 long as he had something of the word of the Lord 
 with authority, severity, and power on his heart; 
 but at another time he could teach ‘ Balak to cast 
 a stumbling-block before the children of Israel.’ 
 
 Re li. 14. 
 
 3. [Ground.] Because the carnal priests do 
 
 2 This is exemplified in Bunyan’s experience, published by 
 him in Grace Abounding. ‘ That scripture also did tear and 
 rend my soul. Is. lvii. 22.’ Sec. 104. ‘ That scripture did 
 
 seize upon my soul. He. xii. 16, 17.’ Sec. 141 .—(Ed.) 
 
716 
 
 A FEW SIGIIS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 tickle the ears of their hearers with vain philosophy 
 and deceit, and thereby harden their hearts against 
 the simplicity of the gospel and Word of God, which 
 things the apostle admonished those that have a 
 mind to close in with Christ to avoid, saying, 
 
 ‘ Beware lest any man,’ be he what he will, ‘ spoil 
 you through philosophy and vain deceit, after the 
 traditions of men, and rudiments of the world, and 
 not after Christ. ’ Col. ii. s. And you who muzzle 
 up your people in ignorance with Aristotle, Plato, 
 and the rest of the heathenish philosophers, and 
 preach little, if anything, of Christ rightly; I say 
 unto you, that you will find you have sinned against 
 God, and beguiled your hearers, when God shall, in 
 the judgment-day, lay the cause of the damnation 
 of many thousands of souls to your charge, and 
 say, He will require their blood at your hands. 
 
 Eze. xxxiii. 6. 
 
 4. [Ground.] Another reason why the carnal 
 unbelieving world do so slight the Scriptures and 
 Word of God, is, because the judgment spoken of 
 in the Scripture is not presently executed on the 
 transgressors. * Because sentence against an evil 
 work is not executed speedily, therefore the heart of 
 the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.’ Ec. 
 viii. ii. Because God doth not presently strike the 
 poor wretch as soon as he sins, but waits, and for¬ 
 bears, and is patient, therefore the world judging 
 God to be unfaithful, go to it again and again, and 
 every time grow harder and harder, till at last God 
 is forced either to stretch out his mighty power to 
 turn them, or else send death, with the devil and 
 hell, to fetch them. ‘ Thou thoughtest,’ saith God, 
 
 ‘ that I was altogether such an one as thyself, but 
 I will reprove thee, and set them in order before 
 thine eyes. Now consider this, ye that forget God, 
 lest I tear you in pieces, and there be none to deliver.’ 
 
 Ps. 1. 21, 22. 
 
 5. [Ground.] Another reason why the blind 
 world do slight the authority of Scripture, is, 
 because they give ear to the devil, who, through 
 his subtilty, casteth false evasions and corrupt 
 interpretations on them, rendering them not so 
 point blank the mind of God, and a rule for direc¬ 
 tion to poor souls, persuading them that the} r must 
 give ear and way to something else besides, and 
 beyond that; or else he labours to render it vile 
 and contemptible, by persuading them that it is a 
 dead letter, when indeed they know not what they 
 say, nor whereof they affirm. For the Scripture is 
 not so dead but that the knowledge of it is able to 
 make any man wise unto salvation, through faith 
 and love, which is in Christ Jesus. 2 Ti. m. is ; and 
 is profitable for instruction, reproof, and correction 
 in righteousness, that the man of God may be 
 throughly furnished to all good works, ver. 17 . 
 
 And where it is said the letter killeth, he meaneth 
 the law, as it is the ministration of damnation, or 
 
 a covenant of works, and so indeed it doth kill, and 
 must do so, because it is just, forasmuch as the 
 party that is under the same is not able to yield to 
 it a complete and continual obedience. But yet 1 
 will call Peter and Paul to -witness that the Scrip¬ 
 tures are of a very glorious concernment, inasmuch 
 as in them is held forth to us the way of life; and 
 also in that they do administer good ground of hope 
 to us. ‘ For whatsoever things were written afore- 
 time were written for our learning, that we through 
 patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have 
 hope.’ Ro. xv. 4 . And again, ‘Now to him that is 
 of power to stablish you according to my gospel, 
 and the preaching of Jesus Christ, according to the 
 revelation of the mystery, which was kept secret 
 since the world began, but now is made manifest, 
 and by the Scriptures of the prophets, according 
 to the commandment of the everlasting God, made 
 known to all nations for the obedience of faith.’ 
 Ro. xvi. 25, 26. And therefore whosoever they be that 
 slight the Scriptures, they slight that which is no 
 less than the Word of God; and they Avho slight 
 that, slight him that spake it; and they that do 
 so, let them look to themselves, for God will be 
 revenged on such. Much more might be said to 
 this thing, but I would not be tedious. 
 
 A word or two more, so I have done with this. 
 Consider the danger of slighting the words of the 
 prophets or apostles , whether they be correction, 
 reproof, admonition, forewarning, or the blessed 
 invitations and promises contained in them. 
 
 1. [Consider] Such souls do provoke God to 
 anger, and to execute his vengeance on them. 
 ‘ They refused to hearken, and pulled away the 
 shoulder, and stopped their ears, that they should 
 not hear ’ the law, and ‘ they made their hearts as 
 an adamant stone, lest they should hear the law, 
 and the words which the Lord of Hosts hath sent 
 in his Spirit by the former prophets; therefore came 
 a great wrath from the Lord of Hosts.’ Zee. vil 11,12. 
 
 2. [Consider] God will not regard in their 
 calamity. ‘ Because I have called, and ye refused; 
 I have stretched out my hand, and no man regarded; 
 but ye have set at nought all my counsel, and 
 would none of my reproof. I also will laugh at 
 your calamity, I will mock when your fear cometh. 
 When your fear cometh as desolation, and your 
 destruction cometh as a whirlwind. Then shall 
 they call upon me, but I will not answer; they 
 shall seek me early, but they shall not find me.’ 
 
 Pr. i. 24 - 28 . 
 
 3. [Consider] God doth commonly give up such 
 men to delusions, to believe lies. ‘ Because they 
 received not the love of the truth that they might 
 be saved,’ therefore * God shall send them strong 
 delusion, that they should believe a lie, that they 
 all might be damned.’ 2Th. ii. 10 - 12 . 
 
 4. [Consider] In a word, they that do continue 
 
THE GItOANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 to reject and slight the Word of God, they are such, 
 for the most part, as are ordained to he damned. 
 Old Eli, his sons not hearkening to the voice of 
 their father reproving them for their sins, but dis¬ 
 obeying his voice, it is said, It was 4 because the 
 Lord would slay them.’ 1 s.a. ii. 25 . Again see in 
 2 ch. xxv. 15 , 16 . Amaziah having sinned against the 
 Lord, lie sends to him a prophet to reprove him; 
 but Amaziah says, 4 Forbear, why shouldest thou 
 be smitten? He did not hearken to the word of 
 God, 4 Then the prophet forbare, saying, I know 
 that God hath determined to destroy thee, because 
 thou hast - not hearkened unto my counsel.’ Read, 
 therefore, and the Lord give thee understanding. 
 For a miserable end will those have that go on 
 sinning against God, rejecting his Word. 
 
 Other things might have been observed from this 
 verse, which at this time I shall pass by; partly 
 because the sum of them hath been touched already, 
 and may be more clearly hinted at in the following 
 verse; and therefore I shall speak a few words to 
 the next verse, and so draw towards a conclu¬ 
 sion. 
 
 ^ erse 31.—‘And he said unto him, Tf they hear not Moses and 
 the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one 
 rose from the dead.’ 
 
 4 And he said; that is, and God made answer 
 to the words spoken in the verse before, 4 And he 
 said unto him, If they hear not Moses,’ <fcc. As 
 if he had said, Moses was a man of great renown, 
 a man of worthy note, a man that talked with God 
 face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend. The 
 words that Moses spake were such as I commanded 
 him to speak. Let who will question them, I will 
 own them, credit them, bless them that close in 
 with them, and curse those that reject them. 
 
 I myself sent the prophets, they did not run of 
 their own heads, I gave them commission, I thrust 
 them out, and told them what they should say. 
 
 I 11 a word, they have told the world what my mind 
 is to do, both to sinners and to saints ; 4 They have 
 Moses and the prophets, let them hear them.’ 
 therefore he that shall reject and turn his back 
 either upon the threatenings, counsels, admoni¬ 
 tions, invitations, promises, or whatsoever else I 
 have commanded them to speak as to salvation 
 and life, and to directions therein, shall be sure to 
 have a share in the many curses that they have 
 spoken, and the destruction 1 that is pronounced by 
 them. Again, 4 If they hear not Moses and the 
 prophets,’ <fcc. As if he had said, Thou wouldst 
 have me send one from the dead unto them ; 
 what needs that? They have my mind already, 
 
 I have declared unto them what I intend to stand 
 
 1 1 his word was, by a typographical error, printed ‘doctrine,’ 
 in an edition ol 1 707; this error has been followed in all the 
 later copies.—(Eu.) 
 
 717 
 
 to, both for saving them that believe, and damning 
 them that do not. That therefore which I have 
 said I will make good, whether they hear or for¬ 
 bear. And as for this desire of yours, you had as 
 good desire me to make a new Bible, and so to 
 revoke my first sayings by the mouth of my pro¬ 
 phets. But I am God and not man, and my Word 
 is immutable, unchangeable, and shall stand as 
 fast as my decrees can make it; heaven and earth 
 shall pass away, but one jot or tittle of my Word 
 shall not pass. Mat. v. is. If thou hadst ten thou¬ 
 sand brethren, and every one in danger of losing 
 his soul, if they did not close in with what is con¬ 
 tained and recorded in the Scriptures of truth, they 
 must even every one of them perish, and be for 
 ever damned in hell, for the Scriptures cannot be 
 broken. I did not send them so unadvisedly to 
 recall it again by another consideration. No, for 
 I speak in righteousness and in judgment, is. lxiii. 
 1 - 3 , and in much wisdom and counsel. It being 
 therefore gone out of my mouth in this manner, 
 it shall not return in vain, until it hath accom¬ 
 plished the thing whereto I have sent it. is. lv. 11. 
 
 But again, thou supposest that miracles and 
 wonders will work more on them, which makes 
 thee say, Send one from the dead. But herein 
 thou art mistaken, for I have proved them with that 
 once and again, by more than one, or two, or three 
 of my servants. How many miracles did my servant 
 Moses work by commandment from me in the land 
 Lgvpt, at the Red Sea, and in the wilderness! 
 Yet they of that generation were never the sooner 
 converted for that; but, notwithstanding, rebelled 
 and lusted, and in their hearts turned back into 
 Egypt. Ac. vii. How many miracles did Samuel, 
 David, Elias, Elisha, Daniel, and the prophets, 
 together with my Son, who raised the dead, cast 
 out devils, made them to see that were born blind, 
 gave and restored limbs! Yet for all this, as I 
 said before, they hated him, they crucified him. 
 
 I raised him again from the dead, and he appeared 
 to his disciples, who were called, and chosen, and 
 faithful, and he gave them commandment and 
 commission to go and testify the truth of this to 
 the world; and to confirm the same he enabled 
 them to speak with divers tongues, and to work 
 miracles most plentifully, yet there was great per¬ 
 secution raised against them, insomuch that but a 
 few of them died in their beds. And, therefore, 
 though thou thinkest that a miracle will do so 
 much with the world, yet I say no. For if they 
 will not believe Moses and the prophets, neither 
 will they be persuaded though one should rise from 
 the dead. 
 
 From these words, therefore, take notice of this 
 truth, namely, that those who reject and believe 
 not Moses and the prophets aro a very hard¬ 
 hearted people, that will not be persuaded though 
 
713 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 one rise from the dead. They that regard not 
 the holy Scriptures to turn to God, finding them 
 to testify of his goodness and mercy, there is hut 
 little hopes of their salvation; for they will not, 
 mark, they will not be persuaded though one should 
 rise from the dead. This truth is confirmed by 
 Jesus Christ himself. If you read Jn. v., where 
 the Lord is speaking of himself that he is the 
 very Christ, he brings in four or five witnesses 
 to hack what he said. 1. John Baptist. 2. The 
 works that his Father gave him to do. 3. His 
 Father speaking from heaven. 4. The testimony 
 of the Scriptures. When all this was done, see¬ 
 ing yet they w r ould not believe, he lays the fault 
 upon one of these two things:—(1.) Their regard¬ 
 ing an esteem among men. (2.) Their not believ¬ 
 ing of the prophets’ writings, even Moses and 
 the rest. ‘For had ye believed Moses,’ saith 
 he, ‘ ye would have believed me; for he wrote 
 of me. But if ye believe not his writings, how 
 shall ye believe my words?’ 
 
 Now, I say, he that shall slight the Scriptures, 
 and the testimony of the prophets in them concern¬ 
 ing Jesus Christ, must needs he in great danger of 
 losing his soul, if he abide in this condition; because 
 he that slights the testimony doth also slight the 
 thing testified of, let him say the contrary never so 
 often. For as Jesus Christ hath here laid down the 
 reason of men’s not receiving him, so the apostle 
 in another place lays down the reason again with 
 a high and mighty aggravation, l Ju. v. 10. saying, 
 
 ‘ He that believetli on the Son of God hath the 
 witness in himself: he that believetli not God 
 hath made him a liar, because he believetli not the 
 record,’ mark, ‘ the record that God gave of his 
 Son.’ The record, you will say, what is that? 
 Why even the testimony that God gave of him by 
 the mouth of all the holy prophets since the world 
 began. Ac. m. is- 20 . That is, God sending his holy 
 Spirit into the hearts of his servants, the prophets 
 and apostles, he, by his Spirit in them, did bear 
 witness or record of the truth of salvation by his 
 Son Jesus, both before and after his coming. And 
 thus is that place also to be understood which 
 saith, ‘ There are three that bear witness in earth, 
 the Spirit, and the water, and the blood.’ That 
 is, the Spirit in the apostles which preached him 
 to the world, as is clear if you read seriously l Th. 
 iv. s. The apostle, speaking of Jesus Christ and 
 obedience to God through him, saith thus, Now 
 * he that despiseth, despiseth not man, but God.’ 
 But it is you that speak; true, but it is by and 
 through the Spirit, ‘ He therefore that despiseth, 
 despiseth not man, but God, who hath also given 
 unto us his Holy Spirit.’ This is therefore a 
 mighty confirmation of this truth, that he that 
 slights the record or testimony that God, by his 
 Spirit in his prophets and apostles, hath testified 
 
 unto us, slights the testimony of the Spirit who 
 moved them to speak these things; and if so, then 
 I would fain know how any man can be saved by 
 Jesus Christ that slights the testimony concerning 
 Christ, yea, the testimony of his own Spirit con¬ 
 cerning his own self? It is true men may pretend 
 to have the testimony of the Spirit, and from that 
 conceit set a low esteem on the holy Scriptures ; 
 but that spirit that dwelleth in them and teacheth 
 them so to do, it is no better than the spirit of 
 Satan, though it calls itself by the name of the 
 Spirit of Christ. ‘ To the law,’ therefore, ‘ and 
 to the testimony,’ try them by that; ‘ if they speak 
 not according to this wmrd, it is because there is no 
 light in them.’ 
 
 The apostle Peter, when he speaks of the glo¬ 
 rious voice that he had from the excellent majesty, 
 saying of Christ, ‘Thisis my beloved Son,hear him/ 
 saith thus to them whom he wrote unto, ‘ You have 
 also a more sure word of prophecy,’ or of the pro¬ 
 phets, for so you may read it, ‘ unto which ye do 
 well that ye take heed.’ That is, though we tell 
 you that Ave had this excellent testimony from his 
 OAvn mouth evidently, yet you have the prophets. 
 We tell you this, and you need not doubt of the 
 truth of it; but if you should, yet you may not, 
 must not, ought not to question them. Search 
 therefore into them, until the day daAvn, and the 
 day-star arise in your hearts. That is, until by 
 the same Spirit that gave forth the Scripture you 
 find the truth confirmed to your souls, which you 
 have recorded in the Scriptures —that this word of 
 prophecy, or of the prophets, is the Scriptures. Read 
 on ; for, saith he, ‘ knoAving this first, that no pro¬ 
 phecy of the scripture is of any private interpreta¬ 
 tion,’ &C. 2 Pe. i. 20 . 
 
 [Object.] But, you Avill say, What needs all 
 this ado, and why is all this time and pains spent 
 in speaking to this that is surely believed already ? 
 This is a thing received by all, that they believe 
 the Scriptures to be the Word of God, that sure 
 Avord of prophecy; and therefore you need ' not 
 spend your time in proving these things, and the 
 truth of them, seeing Ave grant and confess the 
 truth of it before you begin to speak your judg¬ 
 ment of them. 
 
 Answ. The truths of God cannot be borne wit- 
 ness unto too often; you may as Avell say, 1. You 
 need not preach Jesus Christ so much, seeing he 
 hath been, and is received for the true Messias 
 already. 2. Though many may suppose that they 
 do believe the Scriptures, yet if they Avere but well 
 examined, you will find them either by Avord of 
 mouth, or else by conversation, to deny, reject, and 
 slight the holy Scriptures. It is true, there is a 
 notional and historical assent in the head. I say, 
 in the head of many, or most, to the truth contained 
 in Scripture. But try them, I say, and you shall 
 
THE GROANS OF 
 
 find l*ut a little, if any, of the faith of the operation 
 of God in the hearts of poor men, to believe the 
 Scriptures, and things contained in them. Many, 
 yea, most men believe the Scriptures as they believe 
 a fable, a story, a tale, of which there is no cer¬ 
 tainty ! But alas! there are but few do in deed 
 and in truth believe the Scriptures to be the very 
 Word of God. J 
 
 Object. But you will say, This seems strange 
 to me. 
 
 Answ. And it seems as true to me, and I doubt 
 not but to make it manifest, that there are but 
 few, yea, very few, that do effectually, for that I 
 aim at, believe the Scriptures and the truths con¬ 
 tained in and spoken of by them. 
 
 But to make this appear, and that to purpose, if 
 God will, I shall lay you down the several operations 
 that the Scriptures have on them who do effectually 
 believe the things contained in them. 
 
 Fust. lie that doth effectually believe the Scrip¬ 
 tures, hath in the first place been killed, I say 
 killed by the authority of the holy Scriptures ; 
 struck stark dead in a spiritual sense, by the holy 
 Scriptures, being set home by that Spirit, which 
 gave them forth, upon the soul. ‘ The letter kill- 
 eth the letter strikes men dead. 2 Co. m. e. And 
 this Paul witnessed and found, before he could say, 
 
 I believe all that the prophets have spoken. Where 
 he saith, ‘ I was alive without the law once.’ That 
 is, in my natural state, before the law was set on 
 my heart with power; ‘But when the command¬ 
 ment came, sin revived and I died.’ r 0 . vii. 9. * And 
 
 that law which was ordained to life, I found to be 
 unto death; for sin, taking occasion by the com¬ 
 mandment, deceived me, and by it slew me.’ ver. 11 . 
 Now that which is called ‘the letter’ in 2 Cor., is 
 called the law in ito. vii., which by its power and 
 operation, as it is wielded by the Spirit of God, 
 doth in the first place kill and slay all those that 
 are enabled to believe the Scriptures. I kill, saith 
 God: that is, with my law I pierce, I wound, I 
 prick men into the very heart, by showing them 
 their sins against my law. De. xxxi. 26 . Ac. ii. 37. And 
 he that is ignorant of this, is also ignorant of, and 
 doth not really and effectually believe the Scrip¬ 
 ture. 
 
 But you will say, How doth the law kill and 
 strike dead the poor creatures? 
 
 Answ. The letter or law doth kill thus. It is 
 set home upon the soul, and discovers to the soul 
 its transgressions against the law, and shows the 
 soul also, that it cannot completely satisfy the 
 justice of God, for the breach of his law, therefore 
 it is condemned. Jn. m. is. Mark, ‘He that believeth 
 not, is condemned already.’ To wit, by the law, 
 that is, the law doth condemn him; yea, it hath 
 condemned him already for his sins against it; as 
 it is written, ‘ Cursed is every one that continueth 
 
 •A DAMNED SOTTL. rig 
 
 not in all things which are written in the book of 
 the law to do them.’ G». m. 10 . Now all men as 
 they come into the world are in this condition, that 
 is, condemned by the law. \et not believing their 
 condemnation by the law really, they do not also 
 believe really and effectually the law that doth con¬ 
 demn them. For as men have but a notion of the 
 one, that is, their condemnation, because of sins 
 against the law: so they have but a notion of the 
 condemning, killing, and destroying power of the 
 law. For, as the one is, so in these things always 
 is the other. There is no man that doth really 
 believe the law or gospel, further than they do feel 
 the power and authority of them in their hearts. 
 
 ‘ Ye do err, not knowing the Scriptures, nor the 
 power of God.’ Now this letter or law, is not to 
 be taken in the largest sense, but is strictly to be 
 tied to the ten commandments, whose proper work 
 is only by showing the soul its sin against this law, 
 to kill, and there leaves him stark dead, not giving 
 him the least life, or support, or comfort, but leaves 
 the soul in a helpless and hopeless condition, as 
 from itself, or any other mere creature. 
 
 It is true the law hath laid all men for dead, as 
 they come into the world; but all men do not see 
 themselves dead, until they see that law that struck 
 them dead, striking in their souls, and having 
 struck them that fatal blow. As a man that is 
 fast asleep in a house, and that on fire about his 
 ears, and he not knowing of it because he is asleep ; 
 even so, because poor souls are asleep in sin, though 
 the wrath of God, the curse of his law, and the 
 flames of hell have beset them round about, yet 
 they do not believe it, because they are asleep in 
 sin. Now, as he that is awakened and sees this, 
 sees that through this he is a dead man; even so 
 they that do see their state by nature, being such 
 a sad condition, do also see themselves by that law 
 to be dead men naturally. 
 
 But now, when didst thou feel the power of this 
 first part of the Scripture, the law, so mighty as to 
 strike thee dead? If not, thou dost not so much 
 as verily believe that part of the Scripture that doth 
 contain the law in it, to be the truth of God. Yet 
 if thou shouldest have felt something, I say, some¬ 
 thing of the killing power of the law of God in 
 thine heart, this is not an argument to prove that 
 thou believest all the things contained in Scripture, 
 for there is gospel as well as law, and therefore I 
 shall speak to that also, that is, whether thou hast 
 felt the power of the gospel, as well as somethin**- 
 of the power of the law. 
 
 Second. Then thou hast found the power of the 
 gospel, and so believed it, thou hast found it thus 
 with thy soul. 
 
 1. Thou hast been showed by the Word or truth 
 of the gospel, in the light of the Spirit of Christ, 
 that by nature thou wert without the true faith of 
 
720 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, Oil 
 
 the Son of God in tliy soul. For when He, the 
 Spirit, is come, he shall show men that ‘ they be¬ 
 lieve not in me,’ saith Christ. Jn. xvi. 9. Mark, 
 though thou hast, as I said before, felt somewhat 
 of the power of the law, letter, or ten command¬ 
 ments, yet, as thou hast not been brought to this, 
 to see by the Spirit in the gospel, that thou art 
 without faith by nature, thou hast not yet tasted, 
 much less believed, any part of the gospel. For 
 the gospel and the law are two distinct covenants. 
 And they that are under the law may be convinced 
 by it, and so believe the law or first covenant, and 
 yet in the meantime to he a stranger to the cove¬ 
 nant of promise, that is, the gospel, and so have no 
 hope in them. Ep. n. 12 . There is not any promise 
 that can he savingly believed, until the soul he by 
 the gospel converted to Jesus Christ. For though 
 men do think never so much that they believe the 
 things or the Word of the gospel of our salvation ; 
 yet unless they have the work of grace in their 
 souls, they do not, cannot rightly believe the things 
 contained in the Scriptures. Again, 
 
 2. As the law killeth those that believe it, 
 even so the promises contained in the gospel do, 
 through faith, administer comfort to those that 
 believe it aright. My words, saith Christ, My 
 words ‘ they are Spirit, and they are life.’ Jn. vi. 63 . 
 As if he had said, the words contained in the law 
 as a covenant of works, they wound, they kill, they 
 strike dead those that are under them. But as for 
 me, ‘ The words that I speak unto you, they are 
 spirit, and they are life.’ That is, whosoever doth 
 receive them believingly, shall find them full of 
 operation, to comfort, quicken, and revive their soul. 
 For as I did not come into the world to destroy 
 men’s lives, so the words that I speak, as I am 
 sent to preach the gospel, they have no such ten¬ 
 dency unto those that believe them. The promises 
 that are in the gospel, 0 how do they comfort 
 them! Such a promise, and such a promise, 0 
 how sweet is it! How comfortable to those that 
 believe them! Alas! there are many poor souls 
 that think they believe the Scriptures to be the 
 Word of God, and yet they never enjoyed anything 
 of the life and promises; they come in upon the 
 heart to quicken, to revive thee, to raise thee from 
 the sentence of death that is passed on thee by the 
 law. And through the faith that is Avrought in 
 thy soul, by the operation of God’s Holy Spirit, 
 though once killed by the law or letter, thou art 
 made alive in the Lord Jesus Christ, Avho is pre¬ 
 sented to thy soul in the promises. 
 
 Third. Dost thou in deed and in truth believe 
 the Scriptures to be the Word of God? Then the 
 things contained in them, especially the things of 
 the gospel, are very excellent to thy soul; as the 
 birth of Christ, the death, resurrection, intercession, 
 and second coming. 0 how precious and excellent 
 
 are they to thy soul! insomuch that thou regardest 
 nothing in comparison of them! 0! it is Christ’s 
 birth, death, blood, resurrection, &c., according to 
 the Scriptures, that thou dost rejoice in exceedingly, 
 and abundantly desire after! ‘ Whom having not 
 seen, ye love; in whom though now ye see him 
 not, yet believing ye rejoice, with joy unspeakable, 
 and full of glory.’ 1 Co. xv. i~6, compared with Phi. 
 iii. 6—8. 1 Pe. i. 8. 
 
 Fourth. Dost thou believe the Scriptures to be 
 the Word of God? Then thou standest in awe of, 
 and dost much reverence them. Why, they are the 
 Word of God, the true sayings of God; they are 
 the counsel of God; they are his promises and his 
 threatenings. Poor souls are apt to think, if I 
 could hear God speak to me from heaven with an 
 audible voice, then sure I should be serious and 
 believe it. But truly, if God should speak to thee 
 from heaven, except thou wert converted, thou 
 wouldst not regard, nor really believe him. But 
 if thou dost believe the Scriptures, thou seest that 
 they are the truth as really as if God should speak 
 to thee from heaven through the clouds, and there¬ 
 fore never flatter thyself, foolishly thinking, that if 
 it were so and so, then thou couldst believe. I tell 
 thee, saith Christ, If they believe ‘ not Moses and 
 the prophets, neither will they believe though one 
 should rise from the dead.’ But, 
 
 Fifth. Dost thou believe the Scriptures to be 
 the Word of God? Then, through faith in Christ, 
 thou endeavourest to have thy life squared accord¬ 
 ing to the Scriptures, both in word and practice. 
 Nay, this I say, thou mayest have though thou do 
 not believe them all. My meaning is, that if thou 
 believe none but the ten commandments, thy life 
 may be, according to them, a legal holy life; and 
 if thou do believe the gospel too, then thy life will 
 be the faith of the Lord Jesus Christ; that is, 
 either thou wilt live in the blessed and holy enjoy¬ 
 ment of what is testified in the Scripture concern¬ 
 ing the glorious things of the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 or else thou wilt be exceedingly panting after them. 
 For the Scriptures carry such a blessed beauty in 
 them to that soul that hath faith in the things 
 contained in them, that they do take the heart 
 and captivate the soul of him that believeth them 
 into the love and liking of them, believing all 
 things that are written in the law and the prophets, 
 and have hope towards God that there shall be a 
 resurrection of the dead, both of the just and un¬ 
 just. ‘ And herein do I exercise myself, to have 
 always a conscience void of offence toward God 
 and toward men. ’ Ac. xxiv. 14 - 16 . 
 
 Sixth. He that believes the Scriptures to be the 
 Word of God, if he do but suppose that any one 
 place of Scripture doth exclude him, and shut him 
 out of, and from a share in the promises contained 
 in them, 0 it will trouble him, grieve him, perplex 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 721 
 
 Iiim. Yea, lie will not be satisfied until lie be re¬ 
 solved, and the contrary sealed to his soul; for he 
 knows that the Scriptures are the word of God, 
 all truth ; and therefore he knows that if any one 
 sentence doth exclude or bar him out for want of 
 this or the other qualification, he knows also that 
 not the word alone shuts him out, hut he that 
 speaks it, even God himself. And, therefore, he 
 cannot, will not, dare not be contented until he 
 find his soul and Scripture together, with the 
 things contained therein, to embrace each other, 
 and a sweet correspondency and agreement between 
 them. For you must know that to him that be¬ 
 lieves the Scriptures aright, the promises, or 
 threatenings, are of more power to comfort or cast 
 down, than all the promises or threatenings of all 
 the men in the world. And this was the cause 
 why the martyrs of Jesus did so slight both the 
 promises of their adversaries, when they would 
 have overcome them, with proffering the great 
 things of this world unto them, and also their 
 threatenings, when they told them they would rack 
 them, hang them, burn them. Ac. xx. 21. None of 
 these things could prevail upon them, or against 
 them; because they did most really believe the 
 Scriptures, and the things contained in them, as 
 is clearly found, and to be seen in He. xi., and also 
 in Mr. Fox’s records of their brethren. 
 
 Seventh. He that believeth the Scriptures to be 
 the Word of God, believeth that men must be born 
 again, and also be partakers of that faith which is 
 of the operation of God, according as he hath read 
 and believed, or else he must and shall be damned. 
 And he that believeth this aright will not be con¬ 
 tented until, according as it is written, he do par¬ 
 take of and enjoy the new birth, and until he do 
 find, through grace, that faith that is wrought by 
 the operation of God in his soul. For this is the 
 cause why men do satisfy themselves with so 
 slender a conceited hope that their state is good, 
 when it is nothing so, namely, because they do not 
 credit the Scripture; for did they, they would look 
 into their own hearts, and examine seriously 
 whether that faith, that hope, that grace which 
 they think they have be of that nature, and 
 wrought by that spirit and power that the Scrip¬ 
 ture speaketh of. I speak this of an effectual be¬ 
 lieving, without which all other is nothing unto 
 salvation. 
 
 [five uses by way of self-examination.] 
 
 Now then, because I would not be too tedious, 
 
 I shall at this, time lay down no more discoveries 
 of such an one as doth savingly believe the Scrip¬ 
 tures, and the things contained in them, but shall 
 speak a few words of examination concerning the 
 things already mentioned. As, 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 First Use. Thou sayest thou dost in deed and in 
 truth effectually believe the Scriptures: I ask, there¬ 
 fore, wast thou ever killed stark dead by the law of 
 works contained in the Scriptures—killed by the 
 law or letter, and mado to see thy sins against it, 
 and left in a helpless condition by that law? For, 
 as I said, the proper work of the law is to slay 
 the soul, and to leave it dead in a helpless state. 
 For it doth neither give the soul any comfort itself 
 when it comes, nor doth it show the soul where 
 comfort is to be had; and therefore it is called 
 ‘ the ministration of condemnation,’ as in 2 Co. m. 9, 
 ‘ the ministration of death,’ verse 7. For though 
 men may have a notion of the blessed Word of God, 
 as the children had, yet before they be converted 
 it may truly be said of them, Ye err, not knowing 
 the Scriptures, nor the power of God. Mar. xii. 21. 
 
 Second Use. You say you do believe the Scrip¬ 
 tures to be the Word of God. I say again, Examine, 
 wast thou ever quickened from a dead state by the 
 power of the Spirit of Christ, through the other 
 part of the Scripture; that is to say, by the power 
 of God in his Son Jesus Christ, through the cove¬ 
 nant of promise? I tell thee from the Lord, if thou 
 hast, thou hast felt such a quickening power in the 
 words of Christ (Jn. vi.) that thou hast been lifted 
 out of that dead condition that thou before wast 
 in. And that when thou wast under the o-uilt of 
 
 O 
 
 sin, the curse of the law, and the power of the 
 devil, and the justice of the great God, thou hast 
 been enabled, by the power of God in Christ, re¬ 
 vealed to thee by the Spirit through and by the 
 Scripture, to look sin, death, hell, the devil, and 
 the law, and all things that are at enmity with thee, 
 with boldness and comfort in the face, through 
 the blood, death, righteousness, resurrection, and 
 intercession of Christ, made mention of in the 
 Scriptures. And, 
 
 Third Use. On this account, 0 how excellent 
 are the Scriptures to thy soul! 0 how much vir¬ 
 tue dost thou see in such a promise, in such an 
 invitation! They are so large as to say, Christ 
 will in no wise cast me out! My crimson sins 
 shall be white as snow! I tell thee, friend, there 
 are some promises that the Lord hath helped me 
 to lay hold of Jesus Christ through and by, that 
 I would not have out of the Bible for as much gold 
 and silver as can lie between York and London 
 piled up to the stars ; because through them Christ 
 is pleased by his Spirit to convey comfort to my 
 soul. I say, when the law curses, when the devil 
 tempts, when hell-fire flames in my conscience, my 
 sins with the guilt of them tearing of me, then is 
 Christ revealed so sweetly to my poor soul through 
 the promises that all is forced to fly and leave off’ 
 to accuse my soul. So also, when the world 
 frowns, when the enemies rage and threaten to kill 
 me, then also the precious, the exceeding great 
 
 91 
 
722 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL, OR 
 
 and precious promises do weigh down all, and 
 comfort the soul against all. This is the effect of 
 believing the Scriptures savingly ; for they that do 
 so have by and through the Scriptures good comfort, 
 and also ground of hope, believing those things to 
 be its own which the Scriptures hold forth. Ro. xv. 4 . 
 
 Fourth Use. Examine, Dost thou stand in awe of 
 sinning against God, because he hath in the Scrip-* 
 tures commanded thee to abstain from it? Dost 
 thou give diligence to make thy calling and elec¬ 
 tion sure, because God commanded it in Scripture? 
 Dost thou examine thyself whether thou be in the 
 faith or no, having a command in Scripture so to 
 do? Or dost thou, notwithstanding what thou 
 readest in the Scripture, follow the world, delight 
 in sin, neglect coming to Jesus Christ, speak evil 
 of the saints, slight and make a mock at the 
 ordinance of God, delight in wicked company, and 
 the like? Then know that it is because thou dost 
 not in deed and in truth believe the Scriptures 
 effectually. For, as I said before, if a man do 
 believe them, and that savingly, then he stands in 
 awe, he looks to his steps, he turns his feet from 
 evil, and endeavours to follow that which is good, 
 which God hath commanded in the Scriptures of 
 truth; yet not from a legal or natural principle; 
 that is, to seek for life by doing that good thing, 
 but knowing that salvation is already obtained for 
 him by the blood of that man Christ Jesus on the 
 cross because he believes the Scriptures, therefore, 
 mark I pray, therefore, I say, he labours to walk 
 with his God in all well-pleasing and godliness, 
 because the sweet power of the loves of Christ, 
 which he feels in his soul by the Spirit, accord¬ 
 ing to the Scriptures, constrain him so to do. 
 
 2 Co. v. 14 . 
 
 Fifth Use. Examine again, Dost thou labour 
 after those qualifications that the Scriptures do 
 describe a child of God by? That is, faith, yea the 
 right faith, the most holy faith, the faith of the ope¬ 
 ration of God. And also, dost thou examine whether 
 there is a real growth of grace in thy soul, as love, 
 zeal, self-denial, and a seeking by all means to 
 attain, if possible, to the resurrection of the dead ? 
 That is, not to satisfy thyself until thou be dis¬ 
 solved and rid of this body of death, and be trans¬ 
 formed into that glory that the saints shall be in 
 after the resurrection-day. And in the meantime 
 dost labour and take all opportunities to walk as 
 near as may be to the pitch, though thou know 
 thou canst not attain it perfectly. Yet, I say, 
 thou dost aim at it, seek after it, press towards it, 
 and to hold on in thy race; thou shunnest that 
 which may any way hinder thee, and also closest 
 in with what may any way further the same; 
 knowing that that must he, or desiring that it 
 should be, thine eternal frame, and therefore out 
 of love and liking to it thou dost desire and long 
 
 after it, as being the thing that doth most please 
 thy soul. 
 
 Or how is it with thy soul? Art thou such an 
 one as regards not these things, but rather busy 
 thy thoughts about the things here below, follow¬ 
 ing those things that have no scent of divine glory 
 upon them ? If so, look to thyself, thou art an un¬ 
 believer, and so under the wrath of God, and wilt 
 for certain fall into the same place of torment 
 that thy fellows have fallen into before thee, to 
 the grief of thy own soul, and thy everlasting 
 destruction. 
 
 Consider and regard these things, and lay them 
 to thy heart before it be too late to recover thy¬ 
 self, by repenting of the one, and desiring to close 
 in with the other. 0 ! I say, regard, regard, 
 for hell is hot. God’s hand is up, the law is re¬ 
 solved to discharge against thy soul! The judg¬ 
 ment-day is at hand, the graves are ready to fly 
 open, the trumpet is near the sounding, the sen¬ 
 tence will ere long he passed, and then you and I 
 cannot call time again. 
 
 [use and application.] 
 
 1 But again, seeing they are so certain, so sure, 
 so irrevocable and firm, and seeing the saving 
 faith of the things contained therein, is to reform 
 the soul, and bring it over into the things of God, 
 really conforming to the things contained therein, 
 both to the point of justification, and also an im¬ 
 partial walking, and giving up thy soul and body 
 to a conformity to all the commands, counsels, in¬ 
 structions, and exhortations contained therein; 
 this then will learn us howto judge of those who 
 give up themselves to walk in the imaginations 
 of their own hearts, who slight and lay aside 
 the Scriptures, counting them but empty and un¬ 
 certain things, and will live every day in open 
 contradiction to what is contained, commanded, 
 and forbidden therein. As 
 
 First. This will show us that all your drunkards, 
 whoremasters, liars, thieves, swearers, backbiters, 
 slanderers, scoffers at goodness, Ac. I say, we 
 may see by this that they that live in such things, 
 have not the faith of these things contained in their 
 hearts, seeing they delight to practise those things 
 that are forbidden by and in them. And so, they 
 continuing living and dying in this state, we may 
 conclude without fear that these portions of holy 
 Scripture belong unto them, and shall for certain 
 be fulfilled upon them : ‘ He that believeth not 
 
 1 A very considerable portion of the use and application as 
 found in the first edition, was, in the second and subsequent 
 ones, removed to the comment on ver. 28; from the w r ords, 
 ‘ Now then, from what hath been said,’ to the end of the com¬ 
 ment on that verse. I should have preferred Bunyan’s first 
 arrangement, but dared not alter what he had considered an 
 i inprove i nen t.—(E d .) 
 
THE GROANS OF A DAMNED SOUL. 
 
 723 
 
 shall be damned.’ Mar. xvi.ic. * The unrighteous shall 
 not inherit the kingdom of God. * 1 Co. vi. 9,10. ‘ But 
 the abominable, the unbelieving, the whoremongers, 
 and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which 
 burneth with fire and brimstone.’ Re. xxi. 8 . ‘De¬ 
 part, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for 
 the devil and his angels.’ Mat. xxv. 41 . Depart, de¬ 
 part from me, for I will not save you. Depart, 
 for my blood shall not at all wash you. Depart, 
 for you shall not set one foot into the kingdom of 
 heaven. 
 
 ‘Depart, ye cursed,* ye are cursed of God, cursed 
 of his law, cursed of me, cursed by the saints, and 
 cursed by the angels ; cursed all over, nothing but 
 cursed, and therefore depart from me ; and whither? 
 into everlasting fire—fire that will scald, scorch, 
 burn, and flame to purpose. ‘ Fire that shall 
 never be quenched.’ Mar. ix. Fire that will last to 
 all eternity. And must we be all alone ? No, you 
 shall have company, store of company with you. 
 Namely, all the raging, roaring devils, together 
 with an innumerable company of fellow-damned 
 sinners, men, women, and children. And if the 
 Scriptures be true, as they will one day wonderfully 
 appear to be, then this must and shall be thy por¬ 
 tion, if thou live and die in this state ; and of all 
 them who continue in sinning against the truth 
 contained in the Scriptures. As, 
 
 First. Dost thou delight to sin against plain 
 commands ? Thou art gone. 
 
 Second. Dost thou slight and scorn the counsels 
 contained in the Scriptures, and continue in so 
 doing ? Then thou art gone. 
 
 Third. Dost thou continually neglect to come 
 to Christ, and usest arguments in thine own heart 
 to satisfy thy soul with so doing? Then thou art 
 GONE. Lu. xiv. 17 , 18 , compared with ver. 24 , and He.ii. 3. 
 
 ‘ How shall we escape if we neglect so great sal¬ 
 vation ?’ How shall we escape, that is, there is 
 no way to escape. 
 
 (1.) Because God hath said we shall not. He. xii. 
 25 . ‘ See that ye refuse not him that speaketh. 
 
 For if they escaped not who refused him that 
 spake on earth,’ that was Moses, ‘ much more shall 
 not we escape if we turn away from him that speali- 
 eth from heaven.’ 
 
 (2.) Because he hath not only said they shall 
 not, but also hath bound it with an oath, saying, 
 
 ‘ So I sware in my wrath, They shall not enter 
 into my rest.’ He. ill. 11. To whom did he swear 
 that they should not enter into his rest ? Answer, 
 
 ‘ to them that believed not.’ So we see, that they 
 could not enter in because of unbelief, ver. is, 19. 
 
 Second. This will teach us what to think and 
 conclude of such, who, though they do not so openly 
 discover their folly by open and gross sins against 
 the law, yet will give more heed to their own 
 spirits, and the movings thereof, though they be 
 
 neither commanded nor commended for the same 
 in Scripture ; nay, though the Scripture command 
 and commend the contrary, than they will to the 
 holy and revealed will of God. is viii 20. I say, 
 such men are in as bad a state as the other to the 
 full, being disobedient to God’s will revealed in his 
 Word, as well as they, though in a different man¬ 
 ner ; the one openly transgressing against the plain 
 and well-known truths revealed in it; the other, 
 though more close and hidden, yet secretly reject¬ 
 ing and slighting them, giving more heed to their 
 own spirits, and the motions thereof, although not 
 warranted by the Scriptures. 
 
 A few words more, and so I shall conclude. And, 
 
 First. Take heed that you content not your¬ 
 self with a bare notion of the Scriptures in your 
 heads, by which you may go far, even so far as to 
 be able to dispute for the truth, to preach the gos¬ 
 pel, and labour to vindicate it in opposition to gain- 
 sayers, and yet be found at the left hand of Christ 
 at the judgment-day, forasmuch as thou didst con¬ 
 tent thyself with a notion or traditional knowledge 
 of them. 1 
 
 Second. Have a care that thou own the whole 
 Scripture, and not own one part and neglect another, 
 or slight it; as thus: To own the law, and slight 
 the gospel; or to think that thou must be saved by 
 thy good doings and works; for that is all one, 
 as if thou didst thrust Christ away from thee ; or 
 else so to own the gospel, as if by it thou wert ex¬ 
 empted from all obedience to the ten command¬ 
 ments, and conformity to the law in life and con¬ 
 versation ; for in so doing thou wilt for certain 
 make sure of eternal vengeance. 
 
 Cj 
 
 Third. Flave a care that thou put not wrong 
 names on the things contained in the Scriptures, 
 as to call the law, Christ, and Christ, the law, for 
 some having done so, in my knowledge, have so 
 darkened to themselves the glorious truths of the 
 gospel, that in a very little time they have been re¬ 
 solved to thwart and oppose them, and so have 
 made room in their own souls for the devil to in¬ 
 habit, and obtained a place in hell for their own 
 souls to be tormented for ever and ever. 
 
 Against this danger therefore in reading and re¬ 
 ceiving the testimony of Scripture, learn to distin¬ 
 guish between the law and the gospel, and to keep 
 them clear asunder, as to the salvation of thy soul. 
 
 1. And that thou mayest so do, in the first place 
 beg of God that he would show thee the nature of 
 the gospel, and set it home effectually with life and 
 power upon thy soul by faith. Which is this, that 
 God would show thee, that as thou being man 
 
 1 Of all men most miserable must be those clergymen and 
 religious teachers, who, in the great day, will say, ‘ Lord, Lord, 
 have we not prophesied in thy name,’ to whom the Lord will 
 profess, ‘I never knew you, depart, ye cursed.’—Mat. vii. 21 
 -23 .—(Ed.) 
 
72-1 
 
 A FEW SIGHS FROM HELL. 
 
 hast sinned against God, so Christ, being God-man, 
 hath bought thee again, and with his most precious 
 hlood set thee free from the bondage thou hast 
 fallen into bj thy sins. And that not upon condition 
 that thou wilt do thus and thus, this and the other 
 good work; but rather, that thou, being first justi¬ 
 fied freely by mere grace through the blood of J esus, 
 shouldst also receive thy strength from him who 
 hath bought thee, to walk before him in all well- 
 pleasing. Being enabled thereto by virtue of his 
 Spirit, which hath revealed to thy soul that thou 
 art delivered already from wrath to come, by the 
 obedience, not of thee, but of another man, viz., 
 Jesus Christ. 
 
 2. Then if the law thou readest of, tell thee in 
 thy conscience thou must do this and the other 
 •rood work of the law, if ever thou wilt be saved; 
 answer plainly, that for thy part thou art resolved 
 now not to work for life, but to believe in the 
 virtue of that blood shed upon the cross, upon 
 Mount Calvary, for the remission of sins. And yet 
 because Christ hath justified thee freely by his 
 grace, thou wilt serve him in holiness and right¬ 
 eousness all the days of thy life, yet not in a legal 
 spirit, or in a covenant of works ; but mine obedi¬ 
 ence, say thou, I will endeavour to have it free, 
 and cheerful, out of love to my Lord Jesus. 
 
 3. Have a ccire thou receive not this doctrine in 
 the notion only, lest thou bring a just damnation 
 upon thy soul, by professing thyself to be freed by 
 Christ’s blood from the guilt of sin, while thou 
 remainest still a servant to the filth of sin. For I 
 must tell you, that unless you have the true and 
 
 saving work of the faith and grace of the gospel 
 in your hearts, you will either go on in a legal 
 holiness, according to the tenor of the law; or else 
 through a notion of the gospel, the devil bewitching 
 and beguiling thy understanding, will, and affec¬ 
 tions, thou wilt, Ranter-like, turn the grace of God 
 into wantonness, and bring upon thy soul double, 
 if not treble damnation, in that thou couldest not 
 be contented to be damned for thy sins against the 
 law, but also to make ruin sure to thy soul, thou 
 wouldest dishonour the gospel, and turn the grace 
 of God, held forth and discovered to men by that, 
 into licentiousness. 1 
 
 But that thou mightest be sure to escape these 
 dangerous rocks on the right hand and on the left, 
 see that thy faith be such as is spoken of in Scrip¬ 
 ture. And that thou be not satisfied without that, 
 which is a faith wrought by the mighty operation 
 of God, revealing Christ to and in thee, as having 
 wholly freed thee from thy sins by his most pre¬ 
 cious blood. Which faith, if thou attain unto, 
 will so work in thy heart, that first thou wilt see 
 the nature of the law, and [secondly] also the 
 nature of the gospel, and delight in the glory of it; 
 and also thou wilt find an engaging of thy heart 
 and soul to Jesus Christ, even to the giving up of 
 thy whole man unto him, to be ruled and governed 
 by him to his glory, and thy comfort, by the faith 
 of the same Lord Jesus. 
 
 1 The Ranters were a sect of the wildest enthusiasts. It 
 very soon became extinct. An exaggerated account of their 
 sentiments is to be found in Ross’s View of all Religions .— 
 (Ed.) 
 
 4 
 
ONE THING IS NEEDFUL; 
 
 on, 
 
 SERIOUS MEDITATIONS UPON THE POUR LAST THINGS.- 
 
 DEATH, JUDGMENT, HEAVEN, AND HELL. 
 
 UNTO WHICH IS ADDED 
 
 ebal and gerizzim, or the blessing and the curse. 
 
 ^ ITH rRIS ON meditations, and a catalogue of ALL tiiis author’s books. 
 
 The Third Edition.—By JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 London : Printed for Nath. Ponder, at the Peacock in the Poultry, 1688.' 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT 
 
 According to Charles Doe, in that curious sheet 
 called The Strugglerfor the Preservation of Mr. John 
 Banyan s Labours , these poems were published 
 about the year 1664, while tlie author was suffer¬ 
 ing imprisonment for conscience sake, very pro¬ 
 bably in separate sheets or tracts, to be sold by 
 bis wife or children, to aid in their bumble main¬ 
 tenance. They were afterwards united to form a 
 neat little volume, 32mo. The editor is the for¬ 
 tunate possessor of the third edition, being the last 
 that was printed during the author’s lifetime, and 
 witli his latest corrections. From this the present 
 edition has been accurately reprinted. The three 
 tracts are distinct as to pages; a strong indication 
 that they were originally separate little volumes. 
 A copy of the fourth edition of this extremely rare 
 book, without date, and somewhat larger in size, 
 is in the British Museum, in which the pages are 
 continued throughout the volume. The third poem, 
 called Prison Meditations , we have already pub¬ 
 lished in our first volume, as a suitable close to 
 Bunyan’s account of his trying and tedious im¬ 
 prisonment. 
 
 These poems are upon subjects the most solemn 
 and affecting to all mankind, and, like all Bunyan’s 
 other works, were evidently written, not for dis¬ 
 play, but to impress upon the heart those searching 
 realities upon which depend our everlasting des¬ 
 tiny. Die we must; yes, reader, you and I must 
 follow our fathers to the unseen world. Heaven 
 forbid that we should be such mad fools, as to 
 make no provision for the journey; no inquiries 
 about our prospects in that eternity into which we 
 must so soon enter. True it is, that unless Heaven 
 stops us in our mad career, we shall plunge into 
 irretrievable ruin. 
 
 In the first of these poems, many of the minute 
 circumstances attendant on death are pressed upon 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 the memory. Very soon, as Bunyan awfully ex¬ 
 presses the thought, we must look death in the 
 face, and ‘drink with him.’ Soon some kind friend 
 or relative will close our eyelids, and shut up our 
 glassy eyes for ever; tie up the fallen jaw, and 
 prepare the corrupting body for its long, but not 
 final restiug-place. Our hour-glass is fast ebbing 
 out; time stands ready with his scythe to cut us 
 down; the grave yawns to receive us. «Man dieth 
 and wasteth away; yea, man giveth up the ghost, 
 and where is lie.’ Job xiv. 10 . The answer is ready, 
 sure, certain—be goes to the judgment of the great 
 day. There every thought that has passed over 
 his mind, while on earth, will be manifested and 
 scrutinized; every action, every sin, and every 
 supposed good work, however private, will then be 
 published. It is an awful thought. Thousands of 
 works which are thought good will be weighed in 
 the unerring balances of truth, will be found want¬ 
 ing, and proved to be bad, not arising from evan¬ 
 gelical motives; while all our thoughts, words, and 
 actions will appear in their real colours tainted by 
 sin. Those only who are clothed in the Re¬ 
 deemer’s righteousness, and cleansed by his purify¬ 
 ing, sanctifying sufferings, can stand accepted, and 
 will receive the invitation, Come, ye blessed, in¬ 
 herit the kingdom of your father, and your God, 
 by adoption into his family; while an innumerable 
 multitude will be hurried away by the voice of the 
 judge, Go, ye cursed, into everlasting torment. 
 
 On the reverse of the title-page is the following singular 
 advertisement:—‘ This author having published many books 
 which have gone off very well, there'are certain ballad-sellers 
 about Newgate, and on London Bridge, who have put the two 
 first letters of this author’s name, and his effigies, to their 
 rhymes and ridiculous books, suggesting to the world as if 
 they were his. Now know, that this author published his 
 name at large to all his books; and what you shall see other¬ 
 wise, he disowns.’— (Ed.) 
 
726 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 Solemn consideration. Reader, have you fled for 
 refuge to the hope set before you in the gospel ? 
 Have you felt the alarm in your soul under a sense 
 of sin and judgment? Were you dead, and are you 
 made alive? 0, then, while you bless the Saviour 
 for such unspeakable mercies, seek with all dili¬ 
 gence, as life is prolonged, to extend the blessing 
 to others. There is no work nor device in the 
 grave, whither we are all hastening, that can 
 
 benefit mortals. The great gulf will be fixed, and 
 our state be finally decided for eternity. 0, then, 
 if you have not yet attained that good hope of 
 heavenly felicity, sure and stedfast—hasten—yes, 
 
 * Hasten, O sinner, to be blest, 
 
 And stay not for the morrow’s sun; 
 
 For fear the curse should thee arrest 
 Before the morrow be begun.’ 
 
 Geo. Offor. 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL, 
 
 on 
 
 SERIOUS MEDITATIONS UPON THE FOUR LAST THINGS—DEATH, JUDGMENT, HEAVEN, AND HELL 
 
 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE ENSUING DISCOURSE. 
 
 1 . These lines I at this time present 
 
 To all that will them heed, 
 
 Wherein I show to what intent 
 God saith, Convert* with speed. 
 
 2. For these four things come on apace, 
 
 Which we should know full well. 
 
 Both death and judgment, and, in place 
 Next to them, heaven and hell. 
 
 3. For doubtless man was never born 
 
 For this life and no more: 
 
 No, in the resurrection morn 
 They must have weal or woe. 
 
 4 . Can any think that God should take 
 
 That pains, to form a man 
 So like himself, only to make 
 Him here a moment stand ? 
 
 5. Or that he should make such ado, 
 
 By justice, and by grace; 
 
 By prophets and apostles too. 
 
 That men might see his face ? 
 
 6 . Or that the promise he hath made, 
 
 Also the threatenings great, 
 
 Should in a moment end and fade ? 
 
 0 ! no, this is a cheat. 
 
 7. Besides, vho is so mad, or worse, 
 
 To think that Christ should come 
 From glory, to be made a curse, 
 
 And that in sinners 5 room, 
 
 8 . If nothing should by us be had 
 
 When we are gone from hence. 
 
 But vanities, while here ? 0 mad 
 And foolish confidence. 
 
 9 Again, shall God, who is the truth, 
 
 Say there is heaven and hell 
 
 1 ‘ Convert,’ for ‘ be ye converted,’ was a common mode of 
 speech in Runyan’s time. It is so nsed in Ho!v Wnt, Is. vi. 10. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 And shall men play that trick of youth 
 To say, But who can tell ? 
 
 10. Shall he that keeps his promise sure 
 
 In things both low and small. 
 
 Yet break it like a man impure, 
 
 Iu matters great’st of all F 
 
 11 . 0, let all tremble at that thought. 
 
 That puts on God the lie, 
 
 That saith men shall turn unto nought. 
 When they be sick and die. 
 
 12. Alas, death is but as the door 
 
 Through which all men do pass. 
 
 To that which they for evermore 
 Shall have by wrath or grace, 
 j 13 . Let all therefore that read my lines, 
 i Apply them to the heart: 
 
 Yea, let them read, and turn betimes, 
 And get the better part. 
 
 14. Mind therefore what I treat on here. 
 Yea, mind and weigh it well; 
 
 ’Tis death and judgment, and a clear 
 Discourse of heaven and hell. 
 
 OF DEATH. 
 
 1. Death, as a king rampant and stout 
 
 The world he dare engage; 
 
 He conquers all, yea, and doth rout 
 The great, strong, wise, and sage. 
 
 2 . No king so great, nor prince so strong. 
 
 But death can make to yield, 
 
 Yea, bind and lay them all along, 
 
 And make them quit the field. 
 
 3. Where are the victors of the world. 
 
 With all their men of might ? 
 
 Those that together kingdoms hurl’d, 
 By death are put to flight. 
 
 4. How feeble is the strongest hand, 
 
 When death begins to gripe! 
 
ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 The giant now leaves off to stand. 
 
 Much less withstand and fight. 
 
 5. The man that hath a lion’s face 
 
 Must here give place and bend, 
 
 Yea, though his bones were bars of brass, 
 ’Tis vain here to contend. 
 
 6. Submit he must to feeble ones, 
 
 To worms who will enclose 
 His skin and flesh, sinews and bones, 
 
 And will thereof dispose 
 
 7. Among themselves, as merchants do 
 
 The prizes they have got; 
 
 Or as the soldiers give unto 
 Each man the share and lot, 
 
 S. Which they by dint of sword have won, 
 From their most daring foe; 
 
 While he lies by as still as stone, 
 
 Not knowing what they do. 
 
 9. Beauty death turns to rottenness, 
 
 And youth to wrinkled face; 
 
 The witty he brings to distress. 
 
 And wantons to disgrace. 
 
 10. The wild he tames, and spoils the mirth 
 
 Of all that wanton are. 
 
 He takes the worldling from his worth, 
 And poor man from his care. 
 
 11. Death favours none, he lays at all. 
 
 Of all sorts and degree; 
 
 Both old and young, both great and small. 
 Rich, poor, and bound, and free. 
 
 12. No fawning words will flatter him, 
 
 Nor threat’nings make him start; 
 
 He favours none for worth or kin, 
 
 All must taste of his dart. 
 
 13. What shall I say? the graves declare 
 
 That death shall conquer all; 
 
 There lie the skulls, dust, bones, and there 
 The mighty daily fall. 
 
 14. The very looks of death are grim 
 
 And ghastly to behold; 
 
 Yea, though but in a dead man’s skin. 
 When he is gone and cold. 
 
 15. How ’fraid are some of dead men’s beds, 
 
 And others of their bones; 
 
 They neither care to see their heads, 
 
 Nor yet to hear their groans. 
 
 ! 6. Now all these things are but the shade 
 And badges of his coat; 1 
 The glass that runs, the scythe and spade. 
 Though weapons more remote: 
 
 17. Yet such as make poor mortals shrink 
 And fear, when they are told. 
 
 These things are signs that they must drink 
 With death; 0 then how cold. 
 
 1 Armorial bearings as now worn by heralds embroidered 
 on the tabard or coat.—(E d.) 
 
 727 
 
 18. It strikes them to the heart! how do 
 
 They study it to shun! 
 
 Indeed who can bear up, and who 
 Can from these shakings run ? 
 
 19. But how much more then when he comes 
 
 To grapple with thy heart; 
 
 To bind with thread thy toes and thumbs, 2 
 And fetch thee in his cart ? 
 
 20. Then will he cut thy silver cord. 
 
 And break thy golden bowl; 
 
 Yea, break that pitcher which the Lord 
 Made cabin for thy soul. 
 
 21. Thine eyes, that now are quick of sight, 
 
 Shall then no way espy 
 How to escape this doleful plight, 
 
 For death will make thee die. 
 
 22. Those legs that now can nimbly run, 
 
 Shall then with faintness fail 
 To take one step, death’s dart to shun. 
 
 When he doth thee assail. 
 
 23. That tongue that now can boast and brag 
 
 Shall then by death be tied 
 So fast, as not to speak or wag, 
 
 Though death lies by thy side. 
 
 24. Thou that didst once incline thine ear 
 
 Unto the song and tale. 
 
 Shall only now death’s message hear, 
 
 While he, with face most pale, 
 
 25. Doth reason with thee how thy days 
 
 Hath hitherto been spent; 
 
 And what have been thy deeds and ways, 
 
 Sin.ce God thee time hath lent. 
 
 2G. Then will he so begin to tear 
 Thy body from thy soul. 
 
 And both from life, if now thv care 
 Be not on grace to roll. 
 
 27. Death puts on tilings another face 
 
 Than we in health do see: 
 
 Sin, Satan, hell, death, life and grace 
 Now great and weighty be. 
 
 28. Yea, now the sick man’s eye is set 
 
 Upon a world to come: 
 
 He also knows too without let 3 
 That there must be his home. 
 
 29. Either in joy, in bliss and light. 
 
 Or sorrow, woe, and grief; 
 
 Either with Christ and saints in white, 
 
 Or fiends, without relief. 
 
 30. But, 0! the sad estate that then 
 
 They will be in that die 
 
 2 A common custom when death take9 place. The two 
 great toes are tied together, to make the body look decent; 
 and formerly the hands were placed with the palms together, 
 as if in the attitude of prayer, and were kept in that posture 
 by tying the thumbs together.—(E d.) 
 
 3 Without fail, or in spite of all hindcrance.—(E d.) 
 
ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 28 
 
 Both void of grace and life! poor men I 
 How will they fear and cry. 
 
 31. Ha ! live I may not, though I would 
 
 Bor life give more than all; 
 
 And die I dare not, though I should 
 The world gain by my fall, 
 
 32. No, here he must no longer stay, 
 
 He feels his life run out, 
 
 His night is come, also the day 
 That makes him fear and doubt. 
 
 33. He feels his very vitals die. 
 
 All waxeth pale and wan ; 
 
 Nay, worse, he fears to misery 
 He shortly must be gone. 
 
 34. Death doth already strike his heart 
 
 With his most fearful sting 
 Of guilt, which makes his conscience start, 
 And quake at every thing. 
 
 35. Yea, as his body doth decay 
 
 By a contagious grief, 
 
 So his poor soul doth faint away 
 Without hope or relief. 
 
 30. Thus while the man is in this scare, 
 
 Death doth still at him lay; 
 
 Live, die, sink, swim, fall foul or fair, 1 
 Death still holds on his way. 
 
 37. Still pulling of him from his place. 
 
 Bull sore against his mind; 
 
 Death like a sprite stares in his face, 
 
 And doth with links him bind. 
 
 38. And carries him into his den, 
 
 In darkness there to lie, 
 
 Among the swarms of wicked men 
 In grief eternally. 
 
 39. Bor only he that God doth fear 
 
 Will now be counted wise: 
 
 Yea, he that feareth him while here, 
 
 He only wins the prize. 
 
 40. ’Tis he that shall by angels be 
 
 Attended to that bliss 
 That angels have; for he, 0 lie, 
 
 Of glory shall not miss. 
 
 41. Those weapons and those instruments 
 
 Of death, that others fright: 
 
 Those dreadful fears and discontents 
 That brings on some that night. 
 
 42. That never more shall have a day, 
 
 Brings this man to that rest 
 Which none can win but only they 
 Whom God hath called and blest 
 
 48. With the first fruits of saving grace, 
 
 With faith, hope, love, and fear 
 Him to offend; this man his face 
 In visions high and clear, 
 
 44. Shall in that light which no eye can 
 
 Approach unto, behold 
 The rays and beams of glory, and 
 Bind there his name enroll’d, 
 
 45. Among those glittering stars of light 
 
 That Christ still holdeth fast 
 In his right hand with all his might. 
 Until that danger’s past, 
 
 40. That shakes the world, and most hath dr 
 Into grief and distress, 
 
 0 blessed then is he that’s wrapt 
 In Christ his righteousness. 
 
 47. This is the man death cannot kill, 
 
 Bor he hath put on arms ; 
 
 Him sin nor Satan hath not skill 
 To hurt with all their charms. 
 
 48. A helmet on his head doth stand, 
 
 A breastplate on his heart: 
 
 A shield also is in his hand, 
 
 That blunteth every dart. 
 
 49. Truth girds him round the reins, also 
 
 His sword is on his thigh; 
 
 His feet in shoes of peace do go 
 The ways of purity. 
 
 50. His heart it groaneth to the Lord, 
 
 Who hears him at his call, 
 
 And doth him help and strength afford, 
 Wherewith he conquers all. 
 
 51. Thus fortified, he keeps the field 
 
 While death is gone and fled ; 
 
 And then lies down upon his shield 
 Till Christ doth raise the dead. 
 
 OF JUDGMENT. 
 
 1. As ’tis appointed men should die, 
 
 So judgment is the next 
 That meets them most assuredly; 
 
 Bor so saith holy text. 
 
 2. Wherefore of judgment I shall now 
 
 Inform you what I may, 
 
 That you may see what ’tis, and how 
 ’Twill be with men that day. 
 
 3. This world it hath a time to stand, 
 
 Which time when ended, then 
 Will issue judgment out of hand 
 Upon all sorts of men. 
 
 4. The Judge we find, in God’s record, 
 
 The Son of man, for he 
 By God’s appointment is made Lord 
 And Judge of all that be. 
 
 5. Wherefore this Son of man shall come 
 
 At last to count with all, 
 
 And unto them shall give just doom, 
 Whether they stand or fall. 
 
 1 Alluding to wrestlers. Some modes of throwing each 
 other down are called fair, others foul or unfair.—(E d.) 
 
ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 729 
 
 6. Behold ye now the majesty 
 
 And state that shall attend 
 This Lord, this Judge, and Justice high 
 When he doth now descend. 
 
 7. He comes with head as white as snow, 
 
 With eyes like flames of fire ; 
 
 In justice clad from top to toe. 
 
 Most glorious in attire. 
 
 8. Ilis face is filled with gravity; 
 
 His tongue is like a sword; 
 
 His presence awes both stout and high, 
 The world shakes at his word. 
 
 9. He comes in flaming fire, and 
 
 With angels clear and bright, 
 
 Each with a trumpet in his hand. 
 Clothed in shining white. 
 
 10. The trump of God sounds in the air, 
 
 The dead do hear his voice; 
 
 The living too run here and there. 
 
 Who made not him their choice. 
 
 11. Thus to his place he doth repair, 
 
 Appointed for his throne, 
 
 Where he will sit to judge, and where 
 He’ll count with every one. 
 
 12. Angels attending on his hand 
 
 By thousands on a row; 
 
 Yea, thousand thousands by him stand. 
 And at his beck do go. 
 
 13. Thus being set, the books do ope 
 
 In which all crimes are writ. 
 
 All virtues, too, of faith and hope, 
 
 Of love; and every whit 
 
 14. Of all that man hath done or said. 
 
 Or did intend to do; 
 
 Whether they sinn’d, or were afraid 
 Evil to come into. 
 
 15. Before this bar each sinner now 
 
 In person must appear; 
 
 Under his judgment there jjp bow 
 With trembling and with fear: 
 
 16. Within whose breast a witness then 
 
 Will certainly arise. 
 
 That to each charge will say Amen, 
 
 While they seek and devise 
 
 17. To shun the sentence which the Lord 
 
 Against them then will read. 
 
 Out of the books of God’s record, 
 
 With majesty and dread. 
 
 18. But every heart shall opened be 
 
 Before this judge most high; 
 
 Yea, every thought to judgment he 
 Will bring assuredly. 
 
 19. And every word and action, too, 
 
 He there will manifest; 
 lea, all that ever thou didst do, 
 
 Or keep within thy breast, 
 
 VOL. 111. ■ 
 
 20. Shall then be seen and laid before 
 
 The world, that then will stand 
 To see thy judge open ev’ry sore, 
 
 And all thy evils scann’d. 
 
 21. Weighing each sin and wickedness 
 
 With so much equity. 
 
 Proportioning of thy distress 
 And woful misery. 
 
 22. With so much justice, doing right, 
 
 That thou thyself slialt say, 
 
 My sins have brought me to this plight, 
 
 I threw myself away. 
 
 23. Into that gulph my sins have brought 
 
 Me justly to possess, 
 
 Eor which I blame not Christ, I wrought 
 It out by wickedness. 
 
 24. But 0! how willingly would these 
 
 That thus in judgment be, 
 
 If that they might have help or ease, 
 
 Unto the mountains flee. 
 
 25. They would rejoice if that they might 
 
 But underneath them creep, 
 
 To hide them from revenging right, 
 
 Eor fear of which they weep. 
 
 26. But align vain, the mountains then 
 
 Will all be fled and gone; 
 
 No shelter will be found for men 
 That now are left alone. 
 
 27. Eor succour they did not regard 
 
 When Christ by grace did call 
 To them, therefore they are not heard. 
 
 No mountains on them fall. 
 
 28. Before this Judge no one shall shroud 
 
 Himself, under pretence 
 Of knowledge, which hath made him proud, 
 Nor seeming penitence. 
 
 29. No high profession here can stand, 
 
 Unless sincerity 
 
 Hath been therewith commixed, and 
 Brought forth simplicity. 1 
 
 30. No mask nor vizor here can hide 
 
 The heart that rotten is; 
 
 All cloaks now must be laid aside, 
 
 No sinner must have bliss. 
 
 31. Though most approve of thee, and count 
 
 Thee upright in thy heart; 
 
 Yea, though preferred and made surmount 
 Most men to act thy part, 
 
 32. In treading where the godly trod. 
 
 As to an outward show; 
 
 Y 7 et this hold still, the grace of God 
 Takes hold on but a few, 
 
 1 Sincerity is the fountain and source of all real inquiries 
 after truth, holiness, and heaven. It leads to personal exam¬ 
 ination of God’s Word, which leads us from the complexity 
 I of human inventions to the simplicity of the gospel.—(E d.) 
 
 92 
 
730 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 33. So as to make them truly such 
 
 As then shall stand before 
 This Judge with gladness; this is much. 
 Yet true for evermore. 
 
 34. The tree of life this paradise 
 
 Doth always beautify, 
 
 ’Cause of our health it is the rise 
 And perpetuity. 
 
 35. Here stands the golden throne of grace 
 
 From out of which do run 
 Those crystal streams that make this place 
 Far brighter than the sun. 
 
 3G. Here stands mount Zion with her king, 
 Jerusalem above. 
 
 That holy and delightful thing, 
 
 So beautified with love. 
 
 37. That, as a mother succours those 
 Which of her body be. 
 
 So she far more, all such as close 
 In with her Lord; and she 
 
 33. Her grace, her everlasting doors 
 Will open wide unto 
 Them all, with welcome, welcome, poor, 
 Rich, bond, free, high and low, 
 
 39. Unto the kingdom which our Lord 
 
 Appointed hath for all 
 That hath his name and word ador’d ; 
 Because he did them call 
 
 40. Unto that work, which also they 
 
 Sincerely did fulfil, 
 
 Hot shunning always to obey 
 His gracious holy will. 
 
 41. Besides, this much doth beautify 
 
 This goodly paradise, 
 
 That from all quarters, constantly, 
 
 Whole thousands as the price 
 
 42. Of precious blood, do here arrive; 
 
 As safe escaping all, 
 
 Sin, hell, and satan did contrive 
 To bring them into thrall. 
 
 43. Each telling his deliverance 
 
 F th’ open face of heaven 5 
 Still calling to remembrance 
 How fiercely they were driven 
 
 44. By deadly foe, who did pursue 
 
 As swift as eagles fly; 
 
 Which if thou have not, down thou must 
 With those that then shall die 
 The second death, and be accurs’d 
 Of God. For certainly, 
 
 45. The truth of grace shall only here 
 
 Without a blush be bold 
 To stand, whilst others quake and fear, 
 And dare not once behold. 
 
 46. That heart that here was right for God 
 
 Shall there be comforted; 
 
 But those that evil ways have trod, 
 Shall then hang down the head. 
 
 47. As sore confounded with the guilt 
 That now upon them lies, 
 
 Because they did delight in filth 
 And beastly vanities. 
 
 4S. Or else because they did deceive 
 With hypocritical 
 
 Disguises, their own souls, and leave 
 Or shun that best of all 
 
 49. Approved word of righteousness. 
 
 They were invited to 
 Embrace, therefore they no access 
 Now to him have, but woe. 
 
 50. For every one must now receive 
 
 According to their ways ; 
 
 They that unto the Lord did cleave, 
 The everlasting joys. 
 
 51. Those that did die in wickedness, 
 
 To execution sent, 
 
 There still to grapple with distress, 
 Which nothing can prevent. 
 
 52. Of which two states I next shall write. 
 
 Wherefore I pray give ear, 
 
 And to them bend with all your might 
 Your heart with filial fear. 
 
 OF HEAVEN. 
 
 % 
 
 1. Heaven is a place, also a state, 
 
 It doth all things excel. 
 
 No man can fully it relate, 
 
 Nor of its glory tell. 
 
 2. God made it for his residence, 
 
 To sit on as a throne, 
 
 Which shows to us the excellence 
 Whereby it may be known. 
 
 3. Doubtless th^ fabric that was built 
 
 For this so great a king, 
 
 Must needs surprise thee, if thou wilt 
 But duly mind the thing. 
 
 4 . If all that build do build to suit 
 
 The glory of their state, 
 
 What orator, though most acute. 
 
 Can fully heaven relate ? 
 
 5 . If palaces that princes build. 
 
 Which yet are made of clay, 
 
 Do so amaze when much beheld. 
 
 Of heaven what shall we say ? 
 
 6 . It is the high and holy place; 
 
 No moth can there annoy, 
 
 Nor make to fade that goodly grace 
 That saints shall there enjoy. 
 
 7. Mansions for glory and for rest 
 
 Do there prepared stand; 
 
ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 Buildings eternal for the blest 
 Are there provided, and 
 
 8. The glory and the comeliness 
 
 By deepest thought none may 
 With heart or mouth fully express, 
 
 Nor can before that day. 
 
 9. These heav’ns we see, be as a scroll. 
 
 Or garment folded up, 
 
 Before they do together roll, 
 
 And we call’d in to sup 
 
 10. There with the king, the bridegroom, and 
 
 By him are led into 
 His palace chambers, there to stand 
 With his prospect to our view. 
 
 11. And taste and smell, and be inflam’d, 
 
 And ravished to see 
 The buildings he hath for us fram’d. 
 
 How full of heaven they be. 
 
 12. Its state also is marvellous, 
 
 For beauty to behold; 
 
 All goodness there is plenteous, 
 
 Amd better far than gold. 
 
 13. Adorn’d with grace and righteousness, 
 
 While fragrant scents of love 
 O’erflow with everlasting bliss, 
 
 All that do dwell above. 
 
 14. The heavenly majesty, whose face 
 
 Doth far exceed the sun, 
 
 Will there cast forth its rays of grace 
 After this world is done. 
 
 15. Which rays and beams will so possess 
 
 All things that there shall dwell. 
 
 With so much glory, light, and bliss, 
 
 That none can think or tell. 
 
 16. That wisdom which doth order all 
 
 Shall there be fully shown; 
 
 That strength that bears the world there shall 
 By every one be known. 
 
 17. That holiness and sanctity 
 
 Which doth all thought surpass. 
 
 Shall there in present purity 
 Outshine the crystal glass. 
 
 18. The beauty and the comeliness 
 
 Of this Almighty shall 
 Make amiable with lasting bliss 
 Those he thereto shall call. 
 
 19. The presence of this God will be 
 
 Eternal life in all, 
 
 And health and gladness, while we see 
 Thy face, 0 immortal! 
 
 20. Here will the Lord make clear and plain 
 
 How sweetly did agree 
 His attributes, when Christ was slain 
 Our Saviour to be. 
 
 21. How wisdom did find out the way, 
 
 How strength did make him stand, 
 
 How holiness did bear the swav. 
 
 And answer just demand. 
 
 23. How all these attributes did bend 
 Themselves to work our life, 
 
 Thorough the Christ whom God did send 
 To save us by his might. 
 
 23. All this will sparkle in our eye 
 
 Within the holy place, 
 
 And greatly raise our melody. 
 
 And flow our hearts with grace. 
 
 24. The largest thought that can arise 
 
 Within the widest heart 
 Shall then be filled with surprize, 
 
 And pleas’d in every part. 
 
 25. All mysteries shall here be seen. 
 
 And every knot unty’d; 
 
 Electing love, that hid hath been. 
 
 Shall shine on every side. 
 
 26. The God of glory here will be 
 
 The life of every, one; 
 
 Whose goodly attributes shall we 
 Possess them as our ow r n. 
 
 27. By wisdom we all things shall know, 
 
 By light all things shall see. 
 
 By strength, too, all things we shall do, 
 When we in glory be. 
 
 28. The Holy Lamb of God, also, 
 
 Who for our sakes did die, 
 
 The holy ones of God shall know. 
 
 And that most perfectly. 
 
 29. Those small and short discoveries 
 
 That we have of him here, 
 
 Will there be seen with open eyes. 
 
 In visions full and clear. 
 
 30. Those many thousand acts of grace 
 
 That here we feel and find, 
 
 Shall there be read with open face 
 Upon his heart most kind. 
 
 31. There he will show us how he was 
 
 Our prophet, priest, and king; 
 
 And how he did maintain our cause, 
 
 And us to glory bring. 
 
 32. There we shall see how he was touch’d 
 
 With all our grief and pain 
 (As in his word he hath avouch’d). 
 
 When we with him shall reign; 
 
 33. He’ll show us, also, how he did 
 
 Maintain our faith and love, 
 
 And why his face sometimes lie hid 
 From us, who are his dove; 
 
 34. These tempting times that here we have, 
 
 We there shall see were good; 
 
 Also that hidden strength he gave. 
 
 The purchase of his blood. 
 
 35. That he should stand for us before 
 
 His Father, thus we read., 
 
732 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 But then shall see, and shall adore 
 Him for his gracious deed. 
 
 36. Though we are vile, he without shame 
 
 Before the angels all 
 
 Lays out his strength, Ids worth, and name> 
 Eor us, who are in thrall. 
 
 37. This is he who was mock’d and heat, 
 
 Spit on, and crown’d with thorns; 
 
 Who for us had a bloody sweat, 
 
 Whose heart was broke with scorna. 
 
 38. ’Tis he who stands so much our friend. 
 
 As shortly we shall see, 
 
 With open face, world without end, 
 
 And in his presence be. 
 
 39. That head that once was crown’d with thorns, 
 
 Shall now with glory shine; 
 
 That heart that broken was with scorns, 
 
 Shall flow with life divine; 
 
 40. That man that here met with disgrace. 
 
 We there shall see,so bright; 
 
 That angels can’t behold his face 
 Eor its exceeding light. 
 
 41. What gladness will possess our heart 
 
 When we shall see these things ! 
 
 What light and life, in every part. 
 
 Will rise like lasting springs ! 
 
 42. 0 blessed face and holy grace, 
 
 When shall we see this day ? 
 
 Lord, fetch us to this goodly place 
 We humbly do thee pray. 
 
 43. Next to this Lamb we shall behold 
 
 All saints, both more and less, 
 
 With whit’ned robes in glory roll’d, 
 
 ’Cause him they did confess. 
 
 44. Each walking in his righteousness 
 
 With shining crowns of gold, 
 
 Triumphing still in heav’nly bliss. 
 
 Amazing to behold. 
 
 45. Each person for his majesty 
 
 Doth represent a king; 
 
 Yea, angel-like for dignity. 
 
 And seraphims that sing. 
 
 46. Each motion of their mind, and so 
 
 Each twinkling of their eye; 
 
 Each word they speak, and step they go, 
 
 It is in purity. 
 
 47. Immortal are they every one, 
 
 Wrapt up in health and light, 
 
 Mortality from them is gone. 
 
 Weakness is turn’d to might. 
 
 48. The stars are not so clear as they, 
 
 They equalize the sun; 
 
 Their glory shines to perfect day, 
 
 Which day will ne’er be done. 
 
 49. No sorrow can them now annoy, 
 
 Nor weakness, grief or pain; 
 
 No faintness can abate their joy, 
 
 They now in life do reign. 
 
 50. They shall not there, as here, be vex’d 
 
 With Satan, men, or sin; 
 
 Nor with their wicked hearts perplex’d, 
 The heavens have cop’d 1 them in. 
 
 51. Thus, as they shine in their estate. 
 
 So, too, in their degree; 
 
 Which is most goodly to relate. 
 
 And ravishing to see. 
 
 52. The majesty whom they adore. 
 
 Doth them in wisdom place 
 Upon the thrones, and that before 
 The angels, to their grace. 
 
 53. The saints of the Old Testament, 
 
 Eull right to their degree; 
 
 Likewise the New, in excellent. 
 Magnificency be. 
 
 54. Each one his badge of glory wears. 
 
 According to his place; 
 
 According as was his affairs 
 Here, in the time of grace. 
 
 55. Some on the right hand of the Lamb, 
 
 Likewise some on the left. 
 
 With robes and golden chains do stand 
 Most grave, most sage, and deft. 2 
 
 56. The martyr here is known from him 
 
 Who peaceably did die, 
 
 Both by the place he sitteth in. 
 
 And by his dignity. 
 
 57. Each father, saint, and prophet shall, 
 
 According to his worth. 
 
 Enjoy the honour of his call, 
 
 And plainly hold it forth. 
 
 58. Those bodies which sometimes were torn. 
 
 And bones that broken were 
 Eor God’s word; he cloth now adorn 
 With health and glory fair. 
 
 59. Thus, when in heav’nly harmony 
 
 These blessed saints appear, 
 
 Adorn’d with grace and majesty. 
 
 What gladness will be there ! 
 
 60. The light, and grace, and countenance. 
 
 The least of these shall have. 
 
 Will so with terror them advance. 
 
 And make their face so grave, 
 
 61. That at them all the world will shake, 
 
 When they lift up their head; 
 
 Princes and kings will at them quake. 
 And fall before them dead. 
 
 1 The exact spelling of Bunyan is here followed; but 
 whether he meant ‘ coped,’ ‘ covered,’ or ‘ cooped ’—inclosed, 
 or shut in—must be left to the reader’s judgment. I prefer 
 the latter.—(E d.) 
 
 2 Fit, convenient. ‘ Deft ’ is now obsolete.—(E d.) 
 

 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 733 
 
 G2. This shall we see, thus shall we he, 
 0 would the day were come, 
 
 Lord Jesus take us up to thee, 
 
 To this desired home. 
 
 63. Angels also we shall behold, 
 
 When we on high ascend, 
 
 Each shining like to men of gold. 
 And on the Lord attend. 
 
 64. These goodly creatures, full of grace. 
 
 Shall stand about the throne, 
 
 Each one with lightning in his face, 
 And shall to us be known. 
 
 65. These cherubims with one accord 
 
 Shall cry continually. 
 
 Ah, holy, holy, holy. Lord, 
 
 And heavenly majesty. 
 
 66. These will us in their arms embrace, 
 
 And welcome us to rest. 
 
 And joy to see us clad with grace, 
 And of the heavens possess’d. 
 
 67. This we shall hear, this we shall see, 
 
 While raptures take us up, 
 
 When we with blessed Jesus be, 
 
 And at his table sup. 
 
 68. Oh shining angels! what, must we 
 
 With you lift up our voice ? 
 
 We must; and with you ever be, 
 
 And with you must rejoice. 
 
 69. Our friends that lived godly here. 
 
 Shall there be found again; 
 
 The wife, the child, and father dear. 
 With others of our train. 
 
 70. Each one down to the foot in white, 
 
 Eill’d to the brim with grace. 
 Walking among the saints in light. 
 With glad and joyful face. 
 
 71. Those God did use us to convert, 
 
 W r e there with joy shall meet, 
 
 And jointly shall, with all our heart. 
 In life each other greet. 
 
 72. A crown to them we then shall be, 
 
 A glory and a joy; 
 
 And that before the Lord, when he 
 The world comes to destroy. 
 
 73. This is the place, this is the state, 
 
 Of all that fear the Lord; 
 
 Which men nor angels may relate 
 With tongue, or pen, or word. 
 
 74. No night is here, for to eclipse 
 
 Its spangling rays so bright; 
 
 Nor doubt, nor fear to shut the lips. 
 Of those within this light. 
 
 75. The strings of music here are tun’d 
 
 Eor heavenly harmony. 
 
 And every spirit here perfum’d 
 With perfect sanctity. 
 
 76. Hero runs the crystal streams of life. 
 
 Quite thorough all our veius. 
 
 And here by love we do unite 
 With glory’s golden chains. 
 
 77. Now that which sweet’neth all will be 
 
 The lasting of this state; 
 
 This heightens all we hear or see 
 To a transcendant rate. 
 
 78. Eor should the saints enjoy all this 
 
 But for a certain time, 
 
 0, how would they their mark then miss, 
 And at this thing repine ? 
 
 79. Yea, ’tis not possible that they 
 
 Who then shall dwell on high, 
 
 Should be content, unless they may 
 Dwell there eternally. 
 
 A thought of parting with this place 
 Would bitter all their sweet, 
 
 And darkness put upon the face 
 Of all they there do meet. 
 
 But far from this the saints shall be, 
 Their portion is the Lord, 
 
 WTtose face for ever they shall see. 
 
 As saith the holy word. 
 
 And that with everlasting peace, 
 
 Joy, and felicity, 
 
 Erom this time forth they shall increase 
 Unto eternity. 
 
 t 
 
 80. 
 
 81 
 
 82 
 
 
 OE HELL, AND THE ESTATE OF THOSE THAT 
 
 PERISH. 
 
 1. Thus, having show’d you what I sec 
 
 Of heaven, I now will tell 
 You also, after search, what be 
 The damned wights of hell. 
 
 2. And 0, that they who read my linc 3 
 
 Would ponder soberly. 
 
 And lay to heart such things betimes 
 As touch eternity. 
 
 3. The sleepy sinner little thinks 
 
 What sorrows will abound 
 Within him, when upon the brinks 
 Of Tophet he is found. 
 
 4. Ilell is beyond all thought a state 
 
 So doubtful 1 and forlorn, 
 
 So fearful, that none can relate 
 The pangs that there are born. 
 
 5. God will exclude them utterly 
 
 Erom his most blessed face. 
 
 And them involve in misery, 
 
 Li shame, and in disgrace. 
 
 ! 
 
 1 Full of fear and dread. Bunyan, in his Holy War, brings 
 his immense armies of doubters, under General Incredulity, 
 from Ilell-gate Hill.— (En.) 
 

 734, 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 6. God is the fountain of all bliss. 
 
 Of life, of light, and peace; 
 
 They then must needs be comfortless 
 Who are depriv’d of these. 
 
 7 . Instead of life, a living death 
 
 Will there in all be found. 
 
 Dyings will be in every breath. 
 
 Thus sorrow will abound. 
 
 8. No light, but darkness here doth dwell; 
 
 No peace, but horror strange: 
 
 The fearful damning wights 1 of hell 
 In all will make this change. 
 
 9. To many things the damned’s woe 
 
 Is liked in the word, 
 
 And that because no one can show 
 The vengeance of the Lord. 
 
 10. Unto a dreadful burning lake. 
 
 Ail on a fiery flame, 
 
 Hell is compared, for to make 
 All understand the same. 
 
 11. A burning lake, a furnace hot, 
 
 A burning oven, too, 
 
 Must be the portion, share, and lot, 
 
 Of those which evil sow, 
 
 12. This plainly shows the burning heat 
 
 With which it will oppress 
 All hearts, and will like burnings eat 
 Their souls with sore distress. 
 
 13. This burning lake, it is God’s wrath 
 
 Incensed by the sin 
 Of those who do reject his path, 
 
 And wicked ways walk in. 
 
 14. Which wrath will so perplex all parts 
 
 Of body and of soul. 
 
 As if up to the very hearts 
 In burnings they did roll. 
 
 15. Again, to show the stinking state 
 
 Of this so sad a case, 
 
 Like burning brimstone God doth males 
 The hidings of his face. 
 
 16. And truly as the steam, and smoke, 
 
 And flames of brimstone smell, 
 
 To blind the eyes, and stomach choke, 
 So are the pangs of hell. 
 
 17. To see a sea of brimstone burn, 
 
 Who would it not affright? 
 
 But they whom God to hell doth turn 
 Are in most woful plight. 
 
 18. This burning cannot quenched be, 
 
 No, not with tears of blood; 
 
 No mournful groans in misery 
 Will here do any good. 
 
 19. 0 damned men! this is your fate. 
 
 The day of grace is done, 
 
 "Repentance now doth come too late, 
 
 Mercy is fled and gone. 
 
 20. Your groans and cries they sooner should 
 
 Have sounded in mine ears, 
 
 If grace you would have had, or would 
 Have me regard vour tears. 
 
 21. Me you offended with your sin. 
 
 Instructions you did slight, 
 
 Your sins against my law hath been. 
 
 Justice shall have his right. 
 
 22. I gave my Son to do you good, 
 
 I gave you space and time 
 With him to close, which you withstood, 
 And did with hell combine. 
 
 23. Justice against you now is set, 
 
 Which you cannot appease; 
 
 Eternal justice doth you let 
 From either life or ease. 
 
 24. Thus he that to this place doth come 
 
 May groan, and sigh, and weep; 
 
 But sin hath made that place his home. 
 And there it will him keep. 
 
 25 Wherefore, hell in another place 
 Is call’d a prison too, 
 
 And all to show the evil case 
 Of all sin doth undo. 
 
 26. Which prison, with its locks and bars 
 
 Of God’s lasting decree. 
 
 Will hold them fast; 0 how this mars 
 All thought of being free! 
 
 27. Out at these brazen bars they may 
 
 The saints in glory see; 
 
 But this will not their grief allay, 
 
 But to them torment be. 
 
 28. Thus they in this infernal cave 
 
 Will now be holden fast 
 Erom heavenly freedom, though they crave, 
 Of it they may not taste. 
 
 29. The chains that darkness on them hangs 
 
 Still ratt’ling in their ears, 
 
 Creates within them heavy pangs, 
 
 And still augments their fears. 
 
 30. Thus hopeless of ail remedy, 
 
 They dyingly do sink 
 Into the jaws of misery, 
 
 And seas of sorrow drink. 
 
 31. Eor being cop’d a on every side 
 
 With helplessness and grief, 
 
 Headlong into despair they slide 
 Bereft of all relief. 
 
 32. Therefore this hell is called a pic, 
 
 Prepared for those that die 
 The second death, a term most fit 
 To show their misery. 
 
 1 Quick, nimble, active, powerful spirits. "Wight is now 
 obsolete, except in irony ; see Imperial Dictionary .— (Ed.) 
 
 2 See note on verse fifty of the Meditations on Heaven.— (Ed.) 
 
735 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 33. A pit that’s bottomless is this, 
 
 A gulf of grief and woe, 
 
 A dungeon which they cannot miss. 
 
 That will themselves undo. 
 
 34. Thus without stay they always sink, 
 
 Thus fainting still they fail. 
 
 Despair they up like water drink, 
 
 These prisoners have no bail. 
 
 35. Here meets them now that worm that gnaws, 
 
 And plucks their bowels out. 
 
 The pit, too, on them shuts her jaws; 
 
 This dreadful is, no doubt. 
 
 36. This ghastly worm is guilt for sin, 
 
 Which on the conscience feeds, 
 
 With vipers’ teeth, both sharp and keen, 
 Whereat it sorely bleeds. 
 
 37. This worm is fed by memory. 
 
 Which strictly brings to mind, 
 
 All things done in prosperity. 
 
 As we in Scripture find. 
 
 38. No word, nor thought, nor act they did, 
 
 But now is set in sight, 
 
 Not one of them can now be hid. 
 
 Memory gives them light. 
 
 39. On which the understanding still 
 
 Will judge, and sentence pass. 
 
 This kills the mind, and wounds the will, 
 
 Alas, alas, alas! 
 
 40. 0, conscience is the slaughter shop, 
 
 There hangs the axe and knife, 
 
 ’Tis there the worm makes all things hot, 
 
 And wearies out the life. 
 
 41. Here, then, is execution done 
 
 On body and on soul; 
 
 For conscience will be brib’d of none. 
 
 But gives to all their dole. 
 
 42. This worm, ’tis said, shall never die, 
 
 But in the belly be 
 Of all that in the flames shall lie, 
 
 0 dreadful sight to see! 
 
 43. This worm now needs must in them live, 
 
 For sin will still be there, 
 
 And guilt, for God will not forgive. 
 
 Nor Christ their burden bear. 
 
 44. But take from them all help and stay. 
 
 And leave them to despair, 
 
 Which feeds upon them night and day, 
 
 This is the damned’s share. 
 
 45. Now will confusion so possess 
 
 These monuments of ire, 
 
 And so confound them with distress, 
 
 And trouble their desire. 
 
 46. That what to think, or what to do, 
 
 Or where to lay their head, 
 
 They know not; ’tis the damned’s woe 
 To live, and yet be dead. 
 
 47. These cast-awavs would fain have life, 
 
 But know, they never shall, 
 
 They would forget their dreadful plight. 
 
 But that sticks fast’st of all. 
 
 48. God, Christ, and heaven, they know are best, 
 
 Yet dare not on them think, 
 
 The saints they know in joys do rest. 
 
 While they their tears do drink. 
 
 49. They cry alas, but all in vain. 
 
 They stick fast in the mire. 
 
 They would be rid of present pain. 
 
 Yet set themselves on fire. 
 
 50. Darkness is their perplexity. 
 
 Yet do they hate the light. 
 
 They always see their misery. 
 
 Yet are themselves ail night. 
 
 51. They are all dead, yet live they do, 
 
 Yet neither live nor die. 
 
 They die to weal, and live to woe. 
 
 This is their misery. 
 
 52. Amidst all this so great a scare 
 
 That here I do relate, 
 
 Another falleth to their share 
 In this their sad estate. 
 
 53. The legions of infernal fiends 
 
 Then with them needs must be, 
 
 A just reward for all their pains. 
 
 This they shall feel and see. 
 
 54. With yellings, bowlings, shrieks, and cries, 
 
 And other doleful noise, 
 
 With trembling hearts and failing eyes. 
 
 These are their hellish joys. 
 
 55. These angels black they would obey. 
 
 And serve with greedy mind. 
 
 And take delight to go astray. 
 
 That pleasure they might find. 
 
 56. Which pleasure now like poison turns 
 
 Their joy to heaviness; 
 
 Yea, like the gall of asps it burns, 
 
 And doth them sore oppress 
 
 57. Now is the joy they lived in 
 
 All turned to brinish tears. 
 
 And resolute attempts to sin 
 Turn’d into hellish fears. 
 
 58. The floods run trickling down their face, 
 Their hearts do prick and ache, 
 
 While they lament their woful case. 
 
 Their loins totter and shake. 
 
 59. 0 wetted cheeks, with bleared eyes. 
 
 How fully do you show 
 The pangs that in their bosom lies, 
 
 And grief they undergo! 
 
 60. Their dolour in their bitterness 
 
 So greatly they bemoan, 
 
 That hell itself this to express 
 Doth echo with their groan. 
 
36 
 
 ONE THING IS NEEDFUL. 
 
 61. Thus broiling on tlie burning grates, 
 
 They now to wailing go, 
 
 And say of those unhappy fates 
 That did them thus undo. 
 
 62. Alas, my grief! hard hap had I 
 
 Those dolours here to find, 
 
 A living death, in hell I lie, 
 
 Involv’d with grief of mind. 
 
 63. I once was fair for light and grace, 
 
 My days were long and good; 
 
 I lived in a blessed place 
 
 Where was most heav’nly food. 
 
 64. But wretch I am, I slighted life, 
 
 I chose in death to live; 
 
 0, for these days now, if I might, 
 
 Ten thousand worlds would give. 
 
 65. What time had I to pray and read, 
 
 W hat time to hear the word! 
 
 W 7 hat means to help me at my need, 
 Did God to me afford! 
 
 66. Examples, too, of piety 
 
 I every day did see. 
 
 But they abuse and slight did X, 
 
 0, woe be unto me. 
 
 67. I now remember how my friend 
 
 Beproved me of vice, 
 
 And bid me mind my latter end. 
 
 Both once, and twice, and thrice. 
 
 68. But O, deluded man, I did 
 
 My back upon him turn; 
 
 Eternal life I did not heed, 
 
 Eor which I now do mourn. 
 
 69. Ah, golden time, I did thee spend 
 
 In sin and idleness, 
 
 Ah, health and wealth, I did you lend 
 To bring me to distress. 
 
 70. My feet to evil I let run, 
 
 And tongue of folly talk; 
 
 My eyes to vanity hath gone. 
 
 Thus did I vainly walk. 
 
 71. I did as greatly toil and strain 
 
 Myself with sin to please. 
 
 As if that everlasting gain 
 
 Could have been found in these. 
 
 72. But nothing, nothing have I found 
 
 But weeping, and alas. 
 
 And sorrow, which doth now surround 
 Me, and augment my cross. 
 
 73. Ah, bleeding conscience, how did I 
 
 Thee check when thou didst tell 
 Me of my faults, for which I lie 
 Dead while I five in hell. 
 
 74. I took thee for some peevish foe, 
 
 When thou didst me accuse, 
 Therefore I did thee buffet so, 
 
 And counsel did refuse. 
 
 75. Thou often didst me tidings bring, 
 
 How God did me dislike. 
 
 Because I took delight in sin. 
 
 But I thy news did slight. 
 
 76. Ah, Mind, why didst thou do those things 
 
 That now do work my woe ? 
 
 Ah, Will, why wast thou thus inclin’d 
 Me ever to undo ? 
 
 77. My senses, how were you beguil’d 
 
 WTien you said sin was good ? 
 
 It hath in all parts me defil’d, 
 
 And drown’d me like a flood. 
 
 78. Ah, that I now a being have, 
 
 In sorrow and in pain; 
 
 Mother, would you had been my grave. 
 
 But this I wish in vain. 
 
 79. Had I been made a cockatrice, 
 
 A toad, or such-like thing;' 
 
 Yea, had I been made snow or ice. 
 
 Then had I had no sin; 
 
 80. A block, a stock, a stone, or clot, 
 
 Is happier than I; 
 
 Eor they know neither cold nor hot. 
 
 To live nor yet to die. 
 
 81. I envy now the happiness 
 
 Of those that are in light, 
 
 I hate the very name of bliss, 
 
 ’Cause I have there no right. 
 
 82. I grieve to see that others are 
 
 In glory, life, and well, 
 
 Without all fear, or dread, or care. 
 
 While I am racked in hell. 
 
 83. Thus will these souls with watery eyes, 
 
 And hacking of their teeth. 
 
 With wringing hands, and fearful cries, 
 Expostulate their grief. 
 
 84. 0 set their teeth they will, and gnash, 
 
 And gnaw for very pain, 
 
 While as with scorpions God doth lash 
 Them for their life so vain. 
 
 85. Again, still as they in this muse, 
 
 Are feeding on the fire. 
 
 To mind there comes yet other news. 
 
 To screw their torments higher. 
 
 86. Wdiicli is the length of this estate, 
 
 Where they at present lie; 
 
 Which in a word I thus relate, 
 
 ’Tis to eternity. 
 
 87. This thought now is so firmly fix’d 
 
 In all that comes to mind, 
 
 1 This is a common temptation. Job felt it, and murmured at. 
 having been born, Job iii. 3, and x. 18, 19. Jeremiah passed 
 through the same experience, Je. xx. 14,15. Bunyan had the 
 same bitter feelings, and wished himself a dog or toad; see 
 Grace Abounding , No. 104. Colonel Gardener was similarly 
 tried. How awful is the havoc that sin has made with human 
 happiness.— (Ed.) 
 
EBAL AND GERIZIM. 
 
 737 
 
 And also is so strongly mix’d 
 With wrath of every kind. 
 
 SS. So that whatever they do know. 
 
 Or see, or think, or feel, 
 
 For ever still doth strike them through 
 As with a bar of steel. 
 
 89. For ever shineth in the fire. 
 
 Ever is on the chains; 
 
 ’Tis also in the pit of ire. 
 
 And tastes in all their pains. 
 
 90. For ever separate from God, 
 
 From peace, and life, and rest; 
 
 For ever underneath the rod 
 That vengeance liketh best. 
 
 91. 0 ever, ever, this will drown’d 
 
 Them quite and make them cry, 
 
 We never shall get o’er thy bound, 
 
 0, great eternity! 
 
 92. They sooner now the stars may count 
 
 Than lose these dismal bands; 
 
 Or see to what the motes 1 amount 
 Or number up the sands. 
 
 1 The finest particles or atoms of matter— 
 
 “ As thick, as numberless 
 
 “As the gay motes that people the sunbeams.”—Milton.— (Ed.) 
 
 93. Then see an end of this their woe, 
 Which now for sin they have; 
 
 O wantons, take heed what you do. 
 
 Sin will you never save. 
 
 91 They sooner may drink up the sea, 
 Than shake off these their fears; 
 
 Or make another in one day 
 As big with brinish tears; 
 
 95. Than put an end to misery, 
 
 In which they now do roar, 
 
 Or help themselves; no, they must cry, 
 Alas, for evermore. 
 
 98. When years by thousands on a heap 
 Are passed o’er their head; 
 
 Yet still the fruits of sin they reap 
 Among the ghostly dead. 
 
 97. Yea, when they have time out of mind 
 Been in this case so ill, 
 
 For ever, ever is behind 2 
 Yet for them to fulfil. 
 
 ‘ Bow does this remind us of the awfully impressive cries 
 of the man in the iron cage—“ O, eternity, eternity! how 
 shall. I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in 
 eternity 1 ” “A thousand deaths live in him, he not dead.” 
 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 EBAL AND GERIZIM, 
 
 OK 
 
 THE BLESSING AND THE CURSE: 
 
 BEING A SHORT EXHORTATION TO SINNERS, BY TIIE MERCY AND SEVERITY OF GOD. 
 
 FROM MOUNT GERIZIM. 
 
 Besides what I said of the Four Last Things, 
 
 And of the weal and woe that from them springs; 
 An after-word still runneth in my mind. 
 
 Which I shall here expose unto that wind 
 That may it blow into that very hand 
 That needs it. Also that it may be scann’d 
 With greatest soberness, shall be my prayer, 
 
 As well as diligence and godly care ; 
 
 So to present it unto public view. 
 
 That only truth and peace may thence ensue. 
 
 My talk shall be of that amazing love 
 Of God we read of; which, that it may prove. 
 
 By its engaging arguments to save 
 Thee, I shall lay out that poor help I have 
 Thee to entice ; that thou wouldst dearly fall 
 In love with thy salvation, and with all 
 That doth thereto concur, that thou mayst be 
 As blessed as the Blessed can make thee. 
 
 Not only here but in the world to come. 
 
 In bliss, which, I pray God, may be thy home. 
 VOL. III. 
 
 But first, I would advise thee to bethink 
 Thyself, how sin hath laid thee at the brink 
 Of hell, where thou art lulled fast asleep 
 In Satan’s arms, who also will thee keep 
 As senseless and secure as e’er he may, 
 
 Lest thou shouldst wake, and see’t, and run away 
 Unto that Jesus, whom the Father sent 
 Into the world, for this cause and intent, 
 
 That such as thou, from such a thrall as this. 
 Might’st be released, and made heir of bliss. 
 
 Now that thou may’st awake, the danger fly. 
 
 And so escape the death that others die, 
 
 Come, let me set my trumpet to thine ear. 
 
 Be willing all my message for to hear: 
 
 ’Tis for thy life, 0 do it not refuse; 
 
 Wo unto them good counsel do abuse. 
 
 Thou art at present in that very case, 
 
 Which argues thou art destitute of grace: 
 
 For he that lies where sin hath laid him, lies 
 Under the curse, graceless, and so he dies 
 In body and in soul, within that range. 
 
 If God his heart in mercy doth not change 
 
 93 
 
733 
 
 EBAL AND GERIZIM. 
 
 Before he goes the way of all the earth, 
 
 Before he lose his spirit and his breath. 
 
 Repentance there is none within the grave. 
 
 Nor Christ, nor grace, nor mercies for to save 
 Thee from the vengeance due unto thy sin. 
 
 If now thou dost not truly close with him. 
 
 Thou art like him that sleepeth in the sea 
 On broken boards, which, without guide or stay, * 
 Are driven whither winds and water will; 
 
 While greedy beasts do wait to have their fill 
 By feeding on his carcass, when he shall 
 Turn overboard, and without mercy fall 
 Into the jaws of such as make a prey 
 Of those whom justice drowneth in the sea. 
 
 Thou art like him that snoring still doth lie 
 Upon the bed of vain security. 
 
 Whilst all about him into burning; Same 
 By fire is turned; yea, and while the frame 
 And building where he lies consuming is, 
 
 And while himself these burnings cannot miss. 
 
 Thou art like one that hangetli by a thread 
 Over the mouth of hell, as one half-dead; 
 
 And O, how soon this thread may broken be. 
 
 Or cut by death, is yet unknown to thee! 
 
 But sure it is, if all the weight of sin. 
 
 And all that Satan, too, hath doing been, 
 
 Or yet can do, can break this crazy thread, 
 
 ’Twill not be long before, among the dead, 
 
 Thou tumble do, as linked fast in chains. 
 
 With them to wait in fear for future pains. 
 
 What shall I say ? Wilt thou not yet awake ? 
 Nor yet of thy poor soul some pity take? 
 
 Among the lions it hood-winked lies ; 
 
 0, that the Lord would open once thine eyes 
 That thou might’st see it, then I dare say thou, 
 
 As half-bereft of wits, wouldst cry out, Iiow 
 Shall I escape ? Lord help, 0 ! help with speed, 
 Beach down thy hand from heav’n, for help I need, 
 To save me from the lions, for I fear 
 This soul of mine they will in pieces tear. 
 
 Come, then, and let us both expostulate 
 The case betwixt us, till we animate 
 And kindle in our hearts that burning love 
 To Christ, to grace, to life, that we may move 
 Swifter than eagles to this blessed prey; 
 
 Then shall it be well with us in that day 
 
 The trump shall sound, the dead made rise, and staiM 
 
 Then to receive, for breach of God’s command, 
 
 Such thunder-claps as these, Depart from me 
 Into hell-fire, you that the wicked be, 
 
 Prepared for the devil, and for those 
 That with him and his angels rather chose 
 To live in filthy sin and wickedness. 
 
 Whose fruit is everlasting bitterness. 
 
 We both are yet on this side of the grave, 
 
 We also gospel-privileges have; 
 
 The word, and time to pray; God give us hearts, 
 That, like the wise man, we may act our parts. 
 
 To get the pearl of price; then we shall be 
 Like godly Mary, Peter, Paul, and we 
 Like Jacob, too, the blessing shall obtain; 
 
 While Esau rides a-hunting for the gain 
 Of worldly pelf, which will him not avail 
 When death or judgment shall him sore assail. 
 
 Now, to encourage us for to begin. 
 
 Let us believe the kingdom we may win. 
 
 And be possess’d thereof, if we the way 
 Shall hit into, and then let nothing: stav 
 Or hinder us ; the crown is at the end, 
 
 Let’s run and strive, and fly, and let’s contend 
 With greatest courage it for to obtain; 
 
 ’Tis life, and peace, and everlasting gain. 
 
 The gate of life, the new and living way, 
 
 The promise holdeth open all the day, 
 
 Which thou by Jacob’s ladder must ascend. 
 
 Where angels always wait, and do attend 
 
 As ministers, to minister for those 
 
 That do with God, and Christ, and glory close. 
 
 If guilt of sin still lieth at our door. 
 
 Us to discourage, let us set before 
 
 Our eyes a bleeding Jesus, who did die 
 
 The death, and let’s believe the reason why 
 
 He did it, was that we might ever be 
 
 Erom death and sin, from hell and wrath set free. 
 
 Yea, let’s remember for that very end 
 
 It -was his blessed Eather did him send; 
 
 That he the law of God might here fulfil. 
 
 That so the mystery of his blessed will 
 Might be revealed in the blessedness 
 Of those that fly to Christ for righteousness. 
 
 Now let us argue with ourselves, then, thus 
 That Jesus Christ our Lord came to save us. 
 
 By bearing of our sins upon his back. 
 
 By hanging on the cross as on a rack, 
 
 While justice cut him off on every side. 
 
 While smiles Divine themselves from him did hide, 
 While earth did quake, and rocks in pieces rent. 
 And while the sun, as veiled, did lament 
 To see the innocent and harmless die 
 So sore a death, so full of misery. 
 
 Yea, let us turn again, and say, All this 
 He did and suffered for love of his. 
 
 He brought in everlasting righteousness, 
 
 That he might cover all our nakedness; 
 
 He wept and wash’d his face with brinish tears 
 That we might saved be from hellish fears; 
 
 Blood was his sweat, too, in his agony. 
 
 That we might live in joyful ecstasy; 
 
 He apprehended was and led away, 
 
 That grace to us-ward never might decay. 
 
 With swords, and bills, and outrage in the night. 
 That to the peace of heav’n w 7 e might have right. 
 
EBAL AND GERIZIM. 
 
 739 
 
 Condemned he was between two thieves to die. 
 That we might ever in his bosom lie ; 
 
 Scourged with whips his precious body were. 
 
 That we lashes of conscience might not fear; 
 
 His head was crowned with thorns, that we might be 
 Crowned with glory and felicity; 
 
 He hanged was upon a cursed tree, 
 
 That we delivered from death might be; 
 
 His Father from him hides his smiles and face, 
 
 That we might have them in the heavenly place ; 
 
 He cry’d, My God, why hast forsaken me? 
 
 That we forsaken of him might not be. 
 
 Into his side was thrust a bloody spear, 
 iliat ve the sting of death might never fear; 
 
 He went into the grave after all this, 
 
 That we might up to heav’n go, and have bliss. 
 
 Yea, rise again he did out of the earth. 
 
 And shook off from him all the chains of death ; 
 Then at his chariot wheels he captive led 
 His foes, and trod upon the serpent’s head; 
 
 Hiding in triumph to his Father’s throne, 
 
 There to possess the kingdom as his own. 
 
 What say st thou, wilt not yet unto him come ? 
 
 His arms are open, in his heart is room 
 To lay thee; be not then discouraged, 
 
 Although thy sins be many, great, and red; 
 
 Unto thee righteousness he will impute, 
 
 And with the kisses of his mouth salute 
 Thy drooping soul, and will it so uphold, 
 
 As that thy shaking conscience shall be bold 
 To come to mercy’s seat with great access. 
 
 There to expostulate with that justice 
 That burns like fiery flames against all those 
 That do not with this blessed Jesus close; 
 
 Which unto thee will do no harm, but good. 
 
 Because thou hast reliance on that blood 
 That justice saith hath given him content. 
 
 For all that do unfeignedly repent 
 Their ill-spent life, and roll upon free grace, 
 
 That they within that bosom might have place. 
 
 That open is to such, where they shall he 
 In ease, and gladness, and felicity, 
 
 World without end, according to that state 
 I have, nay, better than I, can relate. 
 
 If thou shalt still object, thou yet art vile. 
 
 And hast a heart that will not reconcile 
 Unto the holy law, but will rebel. 
 
 Hark yet to what I shall thee farther tell. 
 
 Two things are yet behind that help thee will, 
 
 If God should put into thy mind that skill. 
 
 So to improve them as becometk those 
 That would with mercy and forgiveness close. 
 
 First, then, let this sink down into thy heart, 
 
 That Christ is not a Saviour in part, 
 
 But every way so fully he is made 
 That all of those that underneath his shade 
 
 And wing would sit, and shroud their weary soul. 
 That even Moses dare it not control. 
 
 But justify it, approve of’t, and conclude 
 No man nor angel must himself intrude 
 M ith such doctune that may oppose the same. 
 
 On pain of blaspheming that holy name, 
 
 Which God himself hath given unto men, 
 
 To stay, to trust, to lean themselves on, when 
 They feel themselves assaulted, and made fear 
 Their sin will not let them in life appear. 
 
 For as God made him perfect righteousness, 
 That he his love might to the height express, 
 
 And us present complete before the throne; 
 
 Sanctification, too, of his own 
 
 He hath prepared, in which do we stand. 
 
 Complete in holiness, at his right hand. 
 
 Now this sanctification is not 
 That holiness which is in us, but that 
 Which in the person of this Jesus is. 
 
 And can inherently be only his. 
 
 But is imputed to us for our good, 
 
 As is his active righteousness and blood; 
 
 Which is the cause, though we infirm are found, 
 That mercy and forgiveness doth abound 
 To us-ward, and that why we are not shent 1 
 And empty, and away rebuked sent. 
 
 Because that all we do imperfect is. 
 
 Bless God, then, for this holiness of his. 
 
 And learn to look by faith on that alone, 
 
 When thou seest thou hast nothing of thine own; 
 Yea, when thy heart most w illin g is to do 
 What God by his good word doth call thee to; 
 And when thou find’st most holiness wdthin. 
 
 And greatest power over every sin, 
 
 Yet then to Jesus look, and thou shalt see 
 In him sanctification for thee. 
 
 Far more complete than all that thou canst find 
 In the most upright heart and willing mind. 
 
 That ever man or angels did possess, 
 
 When most filled with inherent righteousness. 
 Besides, if thou forgettest here to live. 
 
 And Satan get thee once into his sieve. 
 
 He will so hide thy wheat, and show thy brun 2 
 That thou wilt quickly cry, I am undone. 
 
 Alas, thy goodliest attainments here. 
 
 Though like the fairest blossoms they appear, 
 
 How quickly will they lour and decay. 
 
 And be as if they all were fled away, 
 
 When once the east-wind of temptations beat 
 Upon thee, with their dry and blasting heat! 
 
 Rich men will not account their treasure lies 
 In ciack d groats and four-pence half-pennies, 3 
 
 1 From the Saxon scendan , to violate, spoil, revile • so 
 Imperial Dictionary .—Ed. 
 
 “ Altered by poetical license from ‘ bran.’ Chaucer, in om 
 
 inon cnnlle ~ __ 
 
 instance, spells it ‘ bren,’ to rhyme with men.—E d. 
 
 3 This evidently refers to a com value four-pence half-penny 
 
 /\ 
 
 
740 
 
 LBAL AND GERIZIM. 
 
 But in those hags they liave within their chests, 
 
 In staple goods, which shall within then' breasts 
 Have place accordingly, because they see 
 Their substance lieth here. But if that be 
 But shaken, then they quickly fear, and cry, 
 
 Alas, ’tis not this small and odd money, 
 
 We carry in our pockets for to spend, 
 
 Will make us rich, or much will stand our friend. * 
 If famine or if want do us assail, 
 
 How quickly will these little pieces fail! 
 
 If thou be wise, consider what I say. 
 
 And look for all in Christ, where no decay 
 Is like to be; then though thy present frame 
 Be much in up-and-down, yet he the same 
 Abideth, yea, and still at God’s right hand, 
 
 As thy most perfect holiness will stand. 
 
 It is, I say, not like to that in thee, 
 
 Now high, then low, now out, then in, but lie 
 Most perfect is, when thou art at the worst 
 The same, the very same; I said at first. 
 
 This lielpeth much when thou art buffeted, 
 
 And when thy graces lie in thee as dead; 
 
 Then to believe they are all perfect still 
 In Christ thy head, who hath that blessed skill, 
 Yet to present thee by what is in him 
 TJnto his Bather, one that hath no sin. 
 
 Yea, this will fill thy mouth with argument 
 Against the tempter, when he shall present 
 Before thee all thy weakness, and shall hide 
 From thee thy graces, that thou mayst abide 
 Under the fretting fumes of unbelief, 
 
 Which never yielded Christian man relief. 
 
 Nor help thyself thou may’st against him thus : 
 
 O Satan, though my heart indeed be worse 
 Than ’twas a while ago, yet I perceive 
 Thou shalt me not of happiness bereave, 
 
 Nor yet of holiness; for by the Word 
 I find that Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord, 
 
 Is made sanctification for me 
 
 In his own person, where all graces be, 
 
 As water in the fountain; and that I, 
 
 By means of that, have yet a sanctity. 
 
 Both personal and perfect every way; 
 
 And that is Christ himself, as Paul doth say. 
 
 Now, though my crazy pitcher oft doth leak, 
 
 By means of which my graces are so weak, 
 
 And so much spent, that one I cannot find 
 Able to stay or help my feeble mind; 
 
 and, like a cracked groat, not so much prized as good coin. 
 See the note in vol. i. p. 36. In Turner’s Remarkable Pro¬ 
 vidences, folio, 1697, page 28, is a very singular allusion to one 
 of these coins:—“ Christian, the wife of R. Green, of Brenham, 
 Somersetshire, in 1663, made a covenant with the devil. He 
 pricked the fourth finger off her right hand, between the middle 
 and upper joint, and took two drops of her blood on his finger, 
 giving her four-pence half-penny. He then vanished, leaving 
 a smell of brimstone behind.—E d. 
 
 Yet then I look to Jesus, and see all 
 In him that wanting is in me, and shall 
 Again take courage, and believe he will 
 Present me upright in his person, till 
 He humble me for all my foolishness, 
 
 And then again fill me with holiness. 
 
 Now, if thou lovest inward sanctity, 
 
 As all the saints do most unfeignedly, 
 
 Then add, to what I have already said, 
 
 Eaith in the promise; and be not afraid 
 To urge it often at the throne of grace. 
 
 And to expect it in its time and place. 
 
 Then he that true is, and that cannot lie, 
 
 Will give it unto thee, that thou thereby 
 May’st serve with faith, with fear, in truth and love, 
 That God that did at first thy spirit move 
 To ask it to his praise, that he might be 
 Thy God, and that he might delight in thee. 
 
 If I should here particulars relate, 
 
 Methinks it could not but much animate 
 Thy heart, though very listless to inquire 
 How thou may’st that enjoy, which all desire 
 That love themselves and future happiness; 
 
 But 0, I cannot fully it express: 
 
 The promise is so open and so free, 
 
 In all respects, to those that humble be. 
 
 That want they cannot what for them is good; 
 
 But there ’tis, and confirmed is with blood, 
 
 A certain sign, all those enjoy it may. 
 
 That see they want it, and sincerely pray 
 To God the Bather, in that Jesus’ name 
 Who bled on purpose to confirm the same. 
 
 [tiie necessity of a new heart.] 
 
 Now wouldst thou have a heart that tender is, 
 
 A heart that forward is to close with bliss; 
 
 A heart that will impressions freely take 
 Of the new covenant, and that will make 
 The best improvement of the word of grace. 
 
 And that to wickedness will not give place; 
 
 All this is in the promise, and it may 
 Obtained be of them that humbly pray. 
 
 Wouldst thou enjoy that spirit that is free, 
 
 And looseth those that in their spirits be 
 Oppressed with guilt, or filth, or unbelief; 
 
 That spirit that will, where it dwells, be chief; 
 Which breaketh Samson’s cord as rotten thread. 
 And raiseth up the spirit that is dead; 
 
 That sets the will at liberty to choose 
 Those tilings that God hath promis’d to infuse 
 Into the humble heart ? All this, I say. 
 
 The promise holdeth out to them that pray. 
 
 [the spirit of prayer.] 
 
 Wouldst thou have that good, that blessed mind. 
 That is so much to heavenly things inclin’d 
 
EBAL AND GERIZIM. 
 
 741 
 
 Tliat it aloft will soar, and always be 
 Contemplating on blest eternity. 
 
 That mind that never thinks itself at rest. 
 
 But when it knows it is for ever blest; 
 
 That mind that can be here no more content, 
 Than he that in the prison doth lament; 
 
 That blessed mind that counts itself then free 
 When it can at the throne with Jesus be, 
 
 There to behold the mansions he prepares 
 For sueli as be with him and his co-heirs. 
 
 Tliis mind is in the covenant of grace. 
 
 And shall be theirs that truly seek his face. 
 
 [of godly fear.] 
 
 Is godly fear delightful unto thee, 
 
 That fear that God himself delights to see 
 Bear sway in them that love him ? then he will 
 Thy godly mind in this request fulfil. 
 
 By giving thee a fear that tremble shall, 
 
 At every trip thou takest, lest thou fall. 
 
 And him offend, or hurt thyself by sin, 
 
 Or cause poor souls that always blind have been 
 To stumble at thy falls, and harder be 
 Against their own salvation and thee. 
 
 That fear that of itself would rather choose 
 The rod, than to offend or to abuse 
 In anything that blessed worthy name, . 
 
 That hath thee saved from that death and shame; 
 That sin would soon have brought thee to, if he 
 Had not imputed righteousness to thee. 
 
 I will love them, saith God, and not depart 
 From them, but put my fear within their heart, 
 That I to them may always lovely be, 
 
 And that they never may depart from me. 
 
 [of uprightness and sincerity.] 
 
 Wouldst thou be very upright and sincere ? 
 Wouldst thou be that within thou dost appear, 
 
 Or seem to be in outward exercise 
 Before the most devout, and godly wise ? 
 
 Yea, art thou thus when no eye doth thee see 
 
 But that which is invisible ? and be 
 
 The words of God in truth thy prop and stay ? 
 
 And do they in thy conscience bear more sway 
 To govern thee in faith and holiness, 
 
 Than thou canst with thy heart and mouth express? 
 And do the things that truly are divine, 
 
 Before thee more than gold or rubies shine ? 
 
 And if, as unto Solomon, God should 
 Propound to thee. What wouldst thou have ? how 
 would 
 
 Thy heart and pulse beat after heav’nly things, 
 After the upper and the nether springs ? 
 
 Couldst, with unfeigned heart and upright lip, 
 Cry, Hold me fast, Lord, never let me slip. 
 
 Nor step aside from faith and holiness. 
 
 Nor from the blessed hope of future bliss ? 
 Lord, rather cross me anywhere than here; 
 Lord, fill me always with thy holy fear. 
 
 And godly jealousy of mine own heart, 
 
 Lest I, Lord, should at any time depart 
 From thy most blessed covenant of grace, 
 Where Jesus rules as King, and where thy face 
 Is only to be seen with comfort, and 
 Where sinners justified before thee stand. 
 
 If these thy groanings be sincere and true, 
 
 If God doth count thee one that dost pursue 
 The things thou cryest after with thy heart, 
 
 No doubt but in them thou shalt have a part. 
 
 [now graces are to be obtained.] 
 
 The next word that I would unto thee say, 
 
 Is how thou may’st attain, without delay, 
 
 Those blessed graces, and that holiness 
 Thou dost with so much godly zeal express 
 Thy love to, and thy longing to enjoy, 
 
 That sins and weakness might thee less annov. 
 Know, then, as I have hinted heretofore. 
 
 And shall now speak unto a little more. 
 
 All graces in the person of the Son 
 Are by the Father hid, and therefore none 
 Can them obtain but they who with him close; 
 All others graceless are but only those; 
 
 For of his fulness 5 tis that we receive, 
 
 And grace for grace; let no man then deceive 
 Himself or others with a feigned show 
 Of holiness, if Jesus they eschew. 
 
 When he ascended to his Father, then 
 It was that he received gifts for men; 
 
 Faith, hope, and love, true zeal, an upright heart, 
 Plight humbleness of mind, and every part 
 Of what the word of life counts holiness, 
 
 God then laid up in him, that we redress 
 And help might have, who do unto him fiv 
 For righteousness and gospel sanctity. 
 
 [of imputed righteousness.] 
 
 Now, if thou wouldst inherit righteousness. 
 
 And so sanctification possess 
 
 In body, soul, and spirit, then thou must 
 
 To Jesus fly, as one ungodly first; 
 
 And so by him crave pardon for thy sin 
 IVliich thou hast loved, and hast lived in; 
 
 For this cannot at all forgiven be. 
 
 For any righteousness that is in thee ; 
 
 Because the best thou hast is filthy rags. 
 
 Profane, presumptuous, and most beastly brags 
 Of flesh and blood, which always cross doth lie 
 To God, to grace, and thy felicity. 
 
 Then righteousness imputed thou must have, 
 Thee from that guilt and punishment to save 
 
 / 
 
 r 
 
42 
 
 EBAL AND GERIZIM. 
 
 Thou liest under as a sinful man, 
 
 Throughout polluted, and that never can 
 By any other means acquitted be, 
 
 Or ever have true holiness in thee. 
 
 The reason is, because all graces are 
 Only in Christ, and be infused where. 
 
 Or into those whom he doth justify, 
 
 By what himself hath done, that he thereby 
 Might be the whole of all that happiness 
 The sinner shall enjoy here, and in bliss. 
 
 Besides, if holiness should first be found 
 In those whom God doth pardon, then the ground 
 Why we forgiven are would seem to be, 
 
 He first found holiness in thee and me; 
 
 But this the holy Scriptures will refute, 
 
 And prove that righteousness he doth impute 
 Without respect to goodness first in man; 
 
 Bor, to speak truth indeed, no goodness can 
 Be found in those that underneath the law 
 Do stand ; for if God goodness in them saw, 
 
 Why doth he once and twice say, There is none 
 That righteous be; no, not so much as one; 
 
 None understandeth, none seek after God, 
 
 His ways they have not known, but have abode 
 
 In wickedness, unprofitably they 
 
 Must needs appear to be then every way. 
 
 Their throats an open sepulchre, also 
 Their mouths are full of filthy cursings too ; 
 
 And bitterness, yea, underneath their lips 
 The asp hath poison. 0 how many slips 
 And falls in sin must such poor people have! 
 
 Now where’s the holiness that should them save. 
 Or, as a preparation, go before. 
 
 To move God to do for them less or more ? 
 
 No, grace must on thee righteousness bestow, 
 
 Or, else sin will for ever thee undo. 
 
 Sweet Paul this doctrine also doth express, 
 
 Where he saith. Some may have righteousness, 
 Though works they have not; and it thus may stand, 
 Grace by the promise gives what the command 
 Bequireth us to do, and so are we 
 Quitted from doing, and by grace made free. 
 
 [of holiness of life.] 
 
 Now, then, if holiness thou would’st obtain, 
 
 And would’st a tender Christian man remain, 
 
 Keep faith in action, let that righteousness 
 That Christ fulfilled always have express 
 And clear distinction in thy heart, from all 
 That men by Scripture, or besides it, call 
 Inherent gospel holiness, or what 
 Terms else they please to give it; for ’tis that, 
 
 And that alone, by which all graces come 
 Into the heart; for else there is no room 
 Bor ought but pride, presumption, or despair. 
 
 No love or other graces can be there. 
 
 Deceived you the Spirit, saith St. Paul, 
 
 By hearing, faith, or works ? not works, and shall 
 No ways retain the same, except you do 
 Hear faith, embrace the same, and stick thereto. 
 
 [the operation of faith.] 
 
 The word of faith unto me pardon brings, 
 
 Shows me the ground and reason whence it springs: 
 To wit, free grace, which moved God to give 
 His Son to die and bleed, that I might live. 
 
 This word doth also loudly preach to me, 
 
 Though I a miserable sinner be, 
 
 Yet in this Son of God I stand complete. 
 
 Whose righteousness is without all deceit; 
 
 ’Tis that which God himself delighteth in, 
 
 And that by which all his have saved been. 
 
 [of love to god.] 
 
 When I do this begin to apprehend, 
 
 My heart, my soul, and mind, begins to bend 
 To God-ward, and sincerely for to love 
 His Son, his ways, his people, and to move 
 With brokenness of spirit after him 
 Who broken was, and killed for my sin. 
 
 Now is mine heart grown holy, now it cleaves 
 To Jesus Christ my Lord, and now it leaves 
 Those ways that wicked be; it mourns because 
 It can conform no more unto the laws 
 Of God, who loved me when I was vile. 
 
 And of sweet Jesus, who did reconcile 
 Me unto justice by his precious blood. 
 
 When no way else was left to do me good. 
 
 If you would know how this can operate 
 Thus on the soul, I shall to you relate 
 A little farther what my soul hath seen 
 Since I have with the Lord acquainted been. 
 
 The word of grace, when it doth rightly seize 
 The spirit of a man, and so at ease 
 Doth set the soul, the Spirit of the Lord 
 Doth then with might accompany the word; 
 
 In which it sets forth Christ as crucified, 
 
 And by that means the Bather pacified 
 With such a wretch as thou, and by this sight, 
 
 Thy guilt is in the first place put to flight, 
 
 Bor thus the Spirit doth expostulate: 
 
 Behold how God doth now communicate 
 (By changing of the person) grace to thee 
 A sinner, but to Christ great misery. 
 
 Though he the just one was, and so could not 
 Deserve this punishment; behold, then, what 
 The love of God is ! how ’tis manifest, 
 
 And where the reason lies that thou art blest. 
 
 This doctrine being spoken to the heart, 
 
 Which also is made yield to every part 
 Thereof, it doth the same with sweetness fill. 
 
 And so doth sins and wickednesses kill; 
 
EBAL AND GERIZIM. 
 
 743 
 
 For when the love of God is thus reveal’d, 
 
 And thy poor drooping spirit thereby seal’d. 
 
 And when thy heart, as dry ground, drinks this in 
 Unto the roots thereof, which nourish sin, 
 
 It smites them, as the worm did Jonah’s gourd, 
 And makes them dwindle of their own accord, 
 
 And die away; iustead of which there springs 
 Up life and love, and other holy things. 
 
 Besides, the Holy Spirit now is come. 
 
 And takes possession of thee as its home; 
 
 By which a war maintained always is 
 Against the old man and the deeds of his. 
 
 When God at first upon mount Sinai spake, 
 
 He made his very servant Moses quake; 
 
 But when he heard the law the second time. 
 
 His heart was comforted, his face did shine. 
 
 FV hat was the reason of this difference, 
 
 Seeing no change was in the ordinance, 
 
 Although a change was in the manner, when 
 The second time he gave it unto men ? 
 
 At first ’twas given in severity, 
 
 In thunder, blackness, darkness, tempest high, 
 
 In fiery flames it was delivered. 
 
 This struck both Moses and the host as dead; 
 
 But Moses, when he went into the mount 
 The second time, upon the same account 
 No fear, nor dread, nor shaking of his mind. 
 
 Ho we in all the holy Scripture find; 
 
 But rather in his spirit he had rest. 
 
 And look’d upon himself as greatly blest. 
 
 He was put in the rock, he heard the name, 
 
 M liicn on the mount the Lord did thus proclaim : 
 
 I he Lord, merciful, gracious, and more. 
 Long-suffering, and keeping up in store 
 Mercy for thousands, pardoning these things. 
 Iniquity, transgressions, and sins, 
 
 And holding guilty none but such as still 
 Refuse forgiveness, of rebellious will. 
 
 This proclamation better pleased him 
 Than all the thunder and the light’ning 
 Which shook the mount, this rid him of his fear, 
 lliis made him bend, make haste, and worship there. 
 
 Jehoshaphat, when he w'as sore opprest 
 By Amnon and by Moab, and the rest 
 Of them that sought his life, no rest he found, 
 
 Until a word of faith became a ground 
 To stay himself upon; 0, then they fell, 
 
 His very song became their passing-bell. 
 
 Then holiness of heart a consequence 
 Of faith in Christ is, for it flows from thence; 
 
 The love of Christ in truth constraineth us. 
 
 Of l°ve sincerely to make judgment thus: 
 
 He for us died that for ever we 
 
 Might die to sin, and Christ his servants be. 
 
 0 ! nothing’s like to the remembrance 
 Of what it is to have deliverance 
 
 Fiom death and hell, which is of due our right. 
 Nothing, I say, like this to work delight 
 In holy things ; this like live honey runs, 
 
 And needs no pressing out of honey-combs. 
 
 [LOVE INDUCING CHRISTIAN CONDUCT.] 
 
 Then understand my meaning by my words, 
 How sense of mercy unto faith affords 
 Both grace to sanctify, and holy make 
 That soul that of forgiveness doth partake. 
 
 Thus having briefly showed you what is 
 The way of life, of sanctity, of bliss, 
 
 I would not in conclusion have you think, 
 
 By what I say, that Christian men should diink 
 In these my words with lightness, or that they 
 Are now exempted from what every day 
 Their duty is. No, God doth still expect. 
 
 Yea, doth command, that they do not neglect 
 To pray, to read, to hear, and not dissent 
 From being sober, grave, and diligent 
 In watching, self-denial, and with fear 
 To serve him all the time thou livest here. 
 Indeed I have endeavoured to lay 
 Before your eyes the right and only way 
 Pardon to get, and also holiness. 
 
 Without which never think that God will bless 
 Thee with the kingdom he will give to those 
 That Christ embrace, and holy lives do choose 
 To live, while here all others go astray. 
 
 And shall in time to come be cast away. 
 
 FROM MOUNT EBAL. 
 
 Thus having heard from Gerizzim, I shall 
 Next come to Ebal, and you thither call, 
 
 Not there to curse you, but to let you hear 
 How God doth curse that soul that shall appear 
 An unbelieving man, a graceless wretch ; 
 Because he doth continue in the breach 
 Of Moses’ law, and also doth neglect 
 To close with Jesus ; him will God reject 
 And cast behind him ; for of right his due 
 Is that from whence all miseries ensue. 
 
 Cursed, saith he, are they that do transgress 
 The least of my commandments, more or less. 
 Nothing that written is must broken be. 
 
 But always must be kept unto by thee. 
 
 And must fulfilled be; for here no man 
 Can look God in the face, or ever stand 
 Before the judgment-seat; for if they be 
 Convict, condemned too assuredly. 
 
 Now keep this law no mortal creature can. 
 
 For they already do, as guilty, stand 
 Before the God that gave it; so that they 
 Obnoxious to the curse lie every day, 
 
744 
 
 EBAL AND GER1ZIM. 
 
 Which, also they must feel for certainty, 
 
 If unto Jesus Christ they do not fly. 
 
 Hence, then, as they for ever shall be blest, 
 
 That do by faith upon the promise rest, 
 
 So peace unto the wicked there is none; 
 
 ’Tis wrath and death that they must feed upon. 
 
 That what I say may some impression make 
 On carnal hearts, that they in time may take 
 That course that best will prove when time is done, 
 These lines I add to what I have begun. 
 
 First, thou must know that God, as he is love 
 So he is justice, therefore cannot move. 
 
 Or in the least be brought to favour those 
 His holiness and justice doth oppose. 
 
 For though thou may’st imagine in thy heart 
 That God is this or that, yet if thou art 
 At all besides the truth of what he is. 
 
 And so dost build thy hope for life amiss, 
 
 Still he the same abideth, and will be 
 The same, the same for ever unto thee. 
 
 As God is true unto his promise, so 
 Unto his threat’ning he is faithful too. 
 
 Cease to be God he must, if he should break 
 One tittle that his blessed mouth did speak. 
 
 Now, then, none can be saved but the men 
 With whom the Godhead is contented when 
 It them beholds with the severest eye 
 Of justice, holiness, and yet can spy 
 No fault nor blemish in them; these be they 
 That must be saved, as the Scriptures say. 
 
 If this be true, as Tis assuredly, 
 
 Woe be to them that wicked live and die; 
 
 Those that as far from holiness have been 
 All their life loug as if no eye had seen 
 Their doings here, or as if God did not 
 At all regard, or in the least mind what, 
 
 Wherein, or how they did his law transgress, 
 
 Either by this or other wickedness; 
 
 But how deceived these poor creatures are. 
 
 They then shall know when they their burthen bear. 
 
 Alas, our God is a consuming fire; 
 
 So is his law, by which he doth require 
 That thou submit to him, and if thou be 
 Not in that justice found that can save thee 
 From all and every sentence which he spake 
 Upon mount Sinai, then as one that brake 
 It, thou the flames thereof shall quickly find 
 As scourges thee to lash, while sins do bind 
 Thee hand and foot, for ever to endure 
 The strokes of vengeance for thy life impure. 
 
 What I have said will yet evinced be, 
 
 And manifest abundantly to thee, 
 
 If what I have already spoken to 
 Be joined with these lines that do ensue. 
 
 Justice discovers its antipathy 
 Against profaneness and malignity. 
 
 Not only by the law it gave to men. 
 
 And threatenings thereunto annexed then. 
 
 But inasmuch as long before that day. 
 
 He did prepare for such as go astray, 
 
 That dreadful, that so much amazing place—- 
 Hell, with its torments—for those men that grace 
 And holiness of life slight and disdain, 
 
 There to bemoan themselves with hellish pain. 
 
 This place, also, the pains so dismal be, 
 
 Both as to name and nature, that in me 
 It is not to express the damning wights, 
 
 The hellish torture, and the fearful plights 
 Thereof; for as intolerable they 
 Must needs be found, by those that disobey 
 The Lord, so can no word or thought express 
 Unto the full the height of that distress; 
 
 Such miserable caitiffs, that shall there 
 Rebukes of vengeance, for transgressions bear. 
 
 Indeed the holy Scriptures do make use 
 Of many metaphors, that do conduce 
 Much to the symbolizing of the place, 
 
 Unto our apprehension; but the case— 
 
 The sad, the woful case—of those that lie 
 As racked there in endless misery. 
 
 By all similitudes no mortals may 
 Set forth in its own nature; for I say 
 Similitudes are but a shade, and show 
 Of those or that they signify to you. 
 
 The fire that doth within thine oven burn, 
 
 The prison where poor people sit and mourn. 
 Chains, racks, and darkness, and such others, be 
 As painting on the wall, to let thee see 
 By word and figures the extremity 
 Of such as shall within these burnings lie. 
 
 But certainly, if wickedness and sin 
 Had only foolish toys and trifles been. 
 
 And if God had not greatly hated it. 
 
 Yea, could he any ways thereof admit, 
 
 And let it pass, he would not thus have done. 
 
 He doth not use to punish any one 
 With any place or punishment that is 
 Above or sharper than the sin of his 
 Hath merited, and justice seeth due; 
 
 Head sin, then, by the death that doth 'ensue. 
 
 Most men do judge of sin, not by the fruits 
 It bears and bringeth forth, but as it suits 
 Their carnal and deluded hearts, that be 
 With sensual pleasures eaten up; but he 
 That now so judgeth, shortly shall perceive 
 That God will judge thereof himself, and leave 
 Such men no longer to their carnal lusts. 
 
 To judge of wickedness, and of the just 
 And righteous punishment that doth of right 
 Belong thereto ; and will, too, in despite 
 Of all their carnal reason, justify 
 Himself, in their eternal misery. 
 
EBAL AIVD GERIZIM. 
 
 Tlicn hell will be no fancy, neither will 
 Men’s sins be pleasant to them; but so ill 
 And bitter, yea, so bitter, that none can 
 1 ul!y express the same, or ever stand 
 Under the burden it will on them lay, 
 
 When they from life and bliss are sent away. 
 
 When I have thought how often God doth speak 
 Oi their destruction, who his law do break; 
 
 And when the nature of the punishment 
 I find so dreadful, and that God’s intent, 
 
 Yea, lesolution is, it to inflict 
 On every sinner that shah stand convict, 
 
 I have amazed been, yet to behold. 
 
 To see poor sinners yet with sin so bold, 
 
 That like the horse that to the battle runs, 
 
 Without all fear, and that no danger shuns, 
 lill down he falls. O resolute attempts! 
 
 O sad, amazing, damnable events! 
 
 The end of such proceedings needs must be, 
 irom which, 0 Lord, save and deliver me 
 Tut if thou think that God thy noble race 
 Will more respect, than into such a place 
 lo put thee; hold, though thou his offspring be 
 And so art lovely, yet sin hath made thee 
 Another kind of creature than when thou 
 Didst from his fingers drop, and therefore now 
 1 hy first creation stands thee in no stead ; 
 
 Ihou hast transgressed, and in very deed ' 
 
 Set God against thee, who is infinite. 
 
 And that for certain never will forget 
 Thy sins, nor favour thee if thou shalt die 
 A graceless man; this is thy misery. 
 
 When angels sinned, though of higher race 
 nan thou, and also put in higher place, 
 
 \ct them he spared not, but cast them down 
 from heaven to hell; where also they lie bound 
 In everlasting chains, and no release 
 ShaH ever have, but wrath, that shall increase 
 Upon them, to their everlasting woe. 
 
 As for the state they were exalted to. 
 
 That will by no means mitigate their fear, 
 
 But aggravate their hellish torment here/ 
 
 Tor he that liighest stands, if he shall fall, 
 
 His danger needs must be the great’st of'all. 
 Now if God noble angels did not spare 
 Because they did transgress, will lie forbear 
 Poor dust and ashes ? Will he suffer them 
 To break his law, and sin, and not condemn 
 Them for so doing ? Let not man deceive 
 Ilimself or others; they that do bereave 
 Themselves by sin of happiness, shall be 
 Cut off by justice, and have misery. 
 
 Witness his great severity upon 
 The world that first was planted, wherein none 
 But only eight the deluge did escape, 
 
 All others of that vengeance did partake; 
 
 The reason was, that world ungodly stood 
 Before him, therefore he did send the flood, 
 
 M hich swept them all away. A just reward 
 Tor their most wicked ways against the Lord, 
 Who could no longer bear them and their ways, 
 Therefore into their bosom vengeance pays. 
 
 We read of Sodom, and Gomorrah too, 
 
 What judgments they for sin did undergo; 
 
 How God from heaven did fire upon them rain. 
 Because they would not wicked ways refrain; 
 Condemning of them with an overthrow, 
 
 And turned them to ashes. Who can know 
 The miseries that these poor people felt 
 While they did underneath those burnings melt ? 
 Now these, and many more that I could name. 
 That have been made partakers of the flame 
 And sword of justice, God did then cut off. 
 
 And make examples unto all that scoff 
 At holiness, or do the gospel slight; 
 
 And long it will not be before the night 
 And judgment, painted out by what he did 
 To Sodom and Gomorrah, fulfilled 
 Upon such sinners be, that they may know 
 ihat God doth hate the sin, and persons too. 
 
 Of such as still rebellious shall abide, 
 
 Although they now at judgment may deride. 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS; 
 
 OK, 
 
 TEMPORAL THINGS SPIRITUALIZED. 
 
 By JOHN BUNYAN, 
 
 % 
 
 licensed and entered according to order. 
 
 London: Printed for, and sold by, R. Tookey, at his Printing House in St. Christopher’s Court, in Threadneedle Street, 
 
 behind the Royal Exchange, 1701. 
 
 This Title-page was afterwards altered to —• 
 
 DIVINE EMBLEMS, OR TEMPORAL THINGS SPIRITUALIZED; 
 
 FITTED FOR THE USE OF BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 ADORNED WITH CUTS SUITABLE TO EVERY SUBJECT.—THE NINTH EDITION, WITH LARGE ADDITIONS. 
 
 By JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 London: Printed by S. Negris, for John Marshall, at the Bible, in Gracechuich Street, 1/24. 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 Some degree of mystery hangs over these Divine 
 Emblems for children, and many years’ diligent 
 researches have not enabled me completely to solve 
 it. That they were written by Bunyan, there can¬ 
 not be the slightest doubt. 
 
 ‘ Manner and matter, too, are all his own.’ 1 
 
 But no book, under the title of Divine Emblems, 
 is mentioned in any catalogue or advertisements of 
 Bunyan’s works, published during his life; nor in 
 those more complete lists printed by his personal 
 friends, immediately after his death. In all these 
 lists, as well as in many advertisement, both be¬ 
 fore, and shortly after Mr. Bunyan’s death, a little 
 book for children is constantly introduced, which, 
 judging from the title, must have been similar to, 
 if not the same as, these Emblems ; but the Editor 
 has not been able to discover a copy of the first 
 edition, although every inquiry has been made for 
 it, both in the United Kingdom and America. It 
 was advertised in 1688, as Country Rhymes for 
 Children, upon seventy-four thingsA It is also 
 advertised, in the same year, as A Booh for Boys 
 and’ Girls, or Country Rhymes for Children, price 6d.° 
 In 1692, it is included in Charles Doe’s catalogue 
 
 1 Bunyan’s poem in the Holy War. 
 
 ■ On the leaf following the title to One Thing is Needful, &c., 
 by John Bunyan, 1G88. A rare little 32mo, published by 
 the author, in possession of the Editor. 
 
 3 At the end of Grace Abounding, the sixth edition, and 
 also in The Work of Jesus Christ as an Advocate, bv Bunyan, 
 1G88. 
 
 table of all Mr. Bunyan’s books, appended to The 
 Struggler for their preservation, No. 36 ; Meditations 
 on seventy-four things, published in 1685, and not 
 reprinted during the author’s life. In Charles 
 'Doe’s second catalogue of all Mr. Bunyan’s books, 
 appended to the first edition of the Heavenly Foot¬ 
 man, March 1698, it is No. 37. A Booh for Boys 
 and Girls, or Country Rhymes for Children, in verse, 
 on seventy-four things. This catalogue describes 
 every work, word for word, as it is in the several 
 title pages. In 1707 it had reached a third edi¬ 
 tion, and was ‘ornamented with cuts;’ 4 and the 
 title is altered to A Booh for Boys and Girls, or 
 Temporal Things Spiritualized, with cuts. In 1720, 
 it was advertised, ‘price, bound, 6^.’ 5 6 In Reach’s 
 Glorious Lover, it is advertised by Marshall, in 
 12mo. price Is. In 1724, it assumed its present 
 title, and from that time was repeatedly adver¬ 
 tised as Divine Emblems, or Temporal Things Spiri¬ 
 tualized, fitted for the use of boys and girls, adorned 
 with cuts. 
 
 By indefatigable exertions, my excellent friend 
 and brother collector of old English bibles, James 
 Dix, Esq., Bristol, has just discovered and pre¬ 
 sented to me the second edition of this very rare 
 little volume, in fine preservation, from which it 
 appears, that in 1701, the title page was altered 
 from Country Rhymes and Meditations, to A Booh for 
 
 4 Advertised in the eighth edition of Solomon's Temple 
 
 Spiritualized. 
 
 6 In Youth Directed and Instructed —a curious little book 
 for children. 
 
TO THE READER. 
 
 747 
 
 Jjoys and Girls, or Temporal Things Spiritualized, 
 It has no cuts, but, with that exception, it contains 
 exactly the same subjectsas the subsequent editions 
 published under the more popular title of Divine 
 Emblems. 
 
 Ihe only difficulty that remains is to discover 
 seventy-four meditations in the forty-nine Emblems. 
 Ibis may be readily done, if the subjects of medi¬ 
 tation are drawn out. Thus, the first emblem con¬ 
 tains meditations on two things, the Barren Fig- 
 Tree, and God s Vineyard. So the second has a 
 meditation on the Lark and the Fowler, and an¬ 
 other on the comparison between the Fowler and 
 Satan. Upon this plan, the volume contains exactly 
 seventy-four meditations. 
 
 Under the title of Divine Emblems, it has passed 
 through a multitude of editions, and many thousand 
 copies have been circulated. It w r as patronized in 
 those early efforts of the Religious Tract Society, 
 which have been so abundantly blessed in intro¬ 
 ducing wholesome food to the young, instead of the 
 absurd romances which formerly poisoned the infant 
 and youthful mind. 
 
 Among these numerous editions, two deserve 
 special notice. The first of these was published in 
 1757, ‘on a curious paper, and good letter, with 
 new cuts.’ It has a singular preface, signed J. D., 
 addressed * to the great Boys, in folio, and the little 
 ones in coats. The first eight pages are occupied 
 with a dissertation on the origin of language, per¬ 
 haps arising from a line in the dialogue between a 
 sinner and spider, ‘ My name entailed is to my 
 creation. In this preface, he learnedly attempts 
 to prove that language was the gift of God by re¬ 
 
 velation, and not a gradual acquirement of man as 
 his wants multiplied. The other remarkable edi¬ 
 tion was published about 1790. 1 It is, both the 
 text and cuts, printed from copperplate engravings, 
 very handsomely executed. This is an honour 
 conferred upon very few authors; 2 nor was it ever 
 conferred upon one more worthy the highest vene¬ 
 ration of man than is the immortal allegorist. 
 
 The number of editions which have been printed 
 of these little engaging poems, is a proof of the 
 high estimation in which they have been held for 
 nearly one hundred and seventy years; and the 
 great rarity of the early copies shows the eager 
 interest with which they have been read by children 
 until utterly destroyed. 
 
 The cuts were at first exceedingly coarse and 
 rude, but were much improved in the more modern 
 copies. Those to Mason’s edition are handsome. 
 The engraver has dressed all his actors in the cos¬ 
 tume of the time of George the Third; the women 
 with hooped petticoats and high head dresses; 
 clergymen with five or six tier wigs; men with 
 cocked hats and queues ; and female servants with 
 mob caps. That to Emblem Fifteen, upon the 
 sacraments, is peculiarly droll; the artist, forgetting 
 that the author was a Baptist, represents a baby 
 brought to the font to be christened! and two 
 persons kneeling before the body of our Lord! 
 
 Geo. Offor. 
 
 1 Square 24mo, by Bennet, Gurney, and others, without date. 
 
 2 Sturt engraved the Boo/c of Common Prayer; some 
 French artists elegantly etched two of their devotional books; 
 and Pyne engraved the texts of Horace and Virgil will! 
 beautiful vignettes. 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 Courteous Reader, 
 
 The title page will show, if there thou look. 
 
 Who are the proper subjects of this book. 
 
 They’re boys and girls of all sorts and degrees, 
 From those of age to children on the knees. 
 
 Thus comprehensive am I in my notions. 
 
 They tempt me to it by their childish motions. 
 
 We now have boys with beards, and girls that be 
 Big 3 as old women, wanting gravity. 
 
 Then do not blame me, ’cause I thus describe them. 
 Flatter I may not, lest thereby I bribe them 
 To have a better judgment of themselves, 
 
 Than wise men have of babies on their shelves. 4 
 
 3 Altered to ‘huge’ in the Emblems, 1724. 
 
 4 A familiar phrase, denoting persons who have been always 
 frivolous and childish, or those who have passed into second 
 
 Their antic tricks, fantastic modes, and way, 
 
 Show they, like very boys and girls, do play 
 With all the frantic fopperies of this age. 
 
 And that in open view, as on a stage; 
 
 Our bearded men do act like beardless boys; 
 
 Our women please themselves with childish toys. 
 
 Our ministers, long time, by word and pen, 
 
 Dealt with them, counting them not boys, but men. 
 Thunderbolts they shot at them and their toys. 
 
 But liit them not, ’cause they were girls and boys. 
 The better charg’d, the wider still they shot. 
 
 Or else so high, these dwarfs they touched not. 
 Instead of men, they found them girls and boys, 
 Addict to nothing as to childish toys. 
 
 childhood. ‘On the shelf’ is a common saying of ladies 
 when they are too old to get married.—(En.) 
 
743 
 
 A BOOIv BOB BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 Wherefore, good reader, that I save them may, 
 
 I now with them the very dotterel 1 play; 
 
 And since at gravity they make a tush. 
 
 My very beard I cast behind a bush; 
 
 And like a fool stand fing’ring of their toys, 
 
 And all to show them they are girls and boys. 
 
 Nor do I blush, although I think some may 
 Call me a baby, ’cause I with them play. 
 
 I do’t to show them how each fingle-fangle 
 On which they doting are, their souls entangle, 
 
 As with a wmb, a trap, a gin, or snare; 
 
 And will destroy them, have they not a care. 
 
 Paul seemed to play the fool, that he might gain 
 Those that were fools indeed, if not in grain ; 2 
 And did it by their things, that they might know 
 Their emptiness, and might be brought unto 
 What would them save from sin and vanity, 
 
 A noble act, and full of honesty. 
 
 Yet he nor I would like them be in vice, 
 
 While by their playthings I would them entice, 
 
 To mount their thoughts from what are childish 
 toys. 
 
 To heaven, for that’s prepared for girls and boys. 
 Nor do I so confine myself to these, 
 
 As to shun graver things ; I seek t o please 
 Those more compos’d with better things than toys; 
 Though thus I would be catching girls and boys. 
 
 Wherefore, if men have now a mind to look, 
 Perhaps their graver fancies may be took 
 With what is here, though but in homely rhymes : 
 But he who pleases all must rise betimes. 
 
 Some, I persuade me, will be finding fault, 
 Concluding, here I trip, and there I halt: 
 
 No doubt some could those grovelling notions raise 
 By fine-spun terms, that challenge might the bays. 
 But should all men be forc’d to lay aside 
 Their brains that cannot regulate the tide 
 
 1 The name of a bird that mimics gestures.—(E d.) 
 
 2 Indelible, as when raw material is dyed before it is wove, 
 every cirain receives the dye.—(E d.) 
 
 By this or that man’s fancy, we should have 
 The wise unto the fool become a slave. 
 
 What though my text seems mean, my morals be 
 Grave, as if fetch’d from a sublimer tree. 
 
 And if some better handle 3 can a fiy, 
 
 Than some a text, why should we then deny 
 ‘Their making proof, or good experiment, 
 
 Of smallest things, great mischiefs to prevent 1* 
 
 Wise Solomon did fools to piss-ants 4 send. 
 
 To learn true wisdom, and their lives to mend. 
 
 Yea, God by swallows, cuckoos, and the ass, 5 
 Shows they are fools who let that season pass. 
 
 Which he put in their hand, that to obtain 
 Which is both present and eternal gain. 
 
 I think the wiser sort my rhymes may slight, 
 
 But what care I, the foolish will delight 
 To read them, and the foolish God has chose. 
 
 And doth by foolish things their minds compose. 
 
 And settle upon that which is divine; 
 
 Great things, by little ones, are made to shine. 
 
 I could, were I so pleas’d, use higher strains: 
 And for applause on tenters 6 stretch my brains. 
 
 But what needs that ? the arrow, out of sight. 
 
 Does not the sleeper, nor the watchman fright; 
 
 To shoot too high doth but make children gaze, 
 
 ’Tis that which hits the man doth him amaze. 
 
 And for the inconsiderableness 
 Of things, by which I do my mind express, 
 
 , May I by them bring some good thing to pass. 
 
 As Samson, with the jawbone of an ass; 
 
 Or as brave Shamgar, with his ox’s goad 
 
 (Both being things not manly, nor for war in mode), 
 
 I have my end, though I myself expose 
 
 To scorn; God will have glory in the close. J. B. 
 
 s Eor this use of the word ‘handle,’ see Jer. ii. 8. ‘Tney 
 that handle the law.’—(E d.) 
 
 4 This word, with pismire and emmet, has become obsolete. 
 ‘ Ant’ is the term now universally used.—(E d.) 
 
 5 See Ps. lxxxiv. 3; Le. xi. 16; Nu. xx. 
 
 6 a machine used in the manufacture of cloth, on which it 
 
 is stretched.— (Ed.) 
 
 A COOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, &o. 
 
 DIVINE EMBLEMS, OR TEMPORAL THINGS SPIRITUALIZED, &c. 
 
 I. 
 
 UPON THE BARREN FIG-TREE IN GOD’S VINEYARD. 
 
 Wiiat, barren here ! in this so good a soil? 
 
 The sight of this doth make God’s heart recoil 
 Brom giving thee his blessing; barren tree, 
 
 Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be! 
 
 Art thou not planted by the water-side ? 
 Know’st not thy Lord by fruit is glorified ? 
 The sentence is, Cut down the barren tree: 
 Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be. 
 Hast thou been digg’d about and dunged too, 
 Will neither patience nor yet dressing do ? 
 The executioner is come, 0 tree, 
 
 Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be! 
 
Wl 
 
 (U HTfk 
 
 Ilsh m the Water_2.The Fowler_5.Tiie lord's Prayer The Vine Tree_>5.Over-much. niceness_ 3. Child &Bird 
 
 7. Boy & Butterf iy_8 Jiy at the caudle 
 
 by TUaefcbe £■ Sck-. blasyow. 
 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 749 
 
 He that about thy roots takes pains to dirr. 
 Would, if on thee were found but one good fig, 
 Preserve thee from the axe: but, barren tree. 
 
 Bear fruit, or else thy end will cursed be! 
 
 The utmost end of patience is at hand, 
 
 ’Tis much if thou much longer here doth stand. 
 
 O cumber-ground, thou art a barren tree. 
 
 Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be ! 
 
 Thy standing nor thy name will help at all; 
 
 When fruitful trees are spared, thou must fall. 
 
 The axe is laid unto thy roots, 0 tree! 
 
 Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be. 
 
 II. 
 
 UPON THE LARK AND THE FOWLER. 
 
 Thou simple bird, what makes thou here to play ? 
 Look, there’s the fowler, pr’ythee come away. 
 
 I)o st not behold the net ? Look there, ’tis spread, 
 Venture a little further, thou art dead. 
 
 Is there not room enough in all the field 
 Por thee to play in, but thou needs must yield 
 To the deceitful glitt’ring of a glass, 
 
 Plac’d betwixt nets, to bring thy death to pass ? 
 Bird, if thou art so much for dazzling light, 
 
 Look, there s the sun above thee; dart upright; 
 Thy nature is to soar up to the sky. 
 
 Why wilt thou come down to the nets and die ? 
 Take no heed to the fowler’s tempting call; 
 
 This whistle, he enchanteth birds withal. 
 
 Or if thou see’st a live bird in his net. 
 
 Believe she’s there, ’cause herfce she cannot get. 
 Look how he tempteth thee with his decoy. 
 
 That he may rob thee of thy life, thy joy. 
 
 Come, pry thee bird, I prv’thee come away, 
 
 TV hy should this net thee take, when’scape thou may ? 
 Iiadst thou not wings, or were thy feathers pull’d, 
 Or wast thou blind, or fast asleep wer’t lull’d. 
 
 The case would somewhat alter, but for thee. 
 
 Thy eyes are ope, and thou hast wings to flee. 
 Remember that thy song is in thy rise, 
 
 Not in thy fall; earth’s not thy paradise. 
 
 Keep up aloft, then, let thy circuits be 
 Above, where birds from fowler’s nets are free. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This fowler is an emblem of the devil. 
 
 His nets and whistle, figures of all evil. 
 
 His glass an emblem is of sinful pleasure. 
 
 And his decoy of who counts sin a treasure. 
 
 This simple lark’s a shadow of a saint, 
 
 Under allurings, ready now to faint. 
 
 I his admonisher a true teacher is, 
 
 Whose works to show the soul the snare and bliss, 
 And how it may this fowler’s net escape. 
 
 And not commit upon itself this rape. 
 
 III. 
 
 UPON THE VINE-TREE. 
 
 What is the vine, more than another tree? 
 
 Nay most, than it, more tall, more comely be. 
 What workman thence will take a beam or pin, 
 
 To make ought which may be delighted in ? 
 
 Its excellency in its fruit doth lie: 
 
 A fruitless vine, it is not worth a fly. 
 
 P 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 What are professors more than other men ? 
 Nothing at all. Nay, there’s not one in ten. 
 Either for wealth, or wit, that may compare. 
 
 In many things, with some that carnal are. 
 
 Good are they, if they mortify their sin, 
 
 But without that, they are not worth a pin. 
 
 IV. 
 
 • , • * '-ft * •**.>• f ; 
 
 MEDITATIONS UrON AN EGG. 
 
 * . 
 
 1 . 
 
 The egg’s no chick by falling from the lien; 
 
 Nor man a Christian, till he’s born again. 
 
 The egg’s at first contained in the shell; 
 
 Men, afore grace, in sins and darkness dwell. 
 
 The egg, when laid, by warmth is made a chicken. 
 And Christ, by grace, those dead in sin doth quicken. 
 The egg, when first a chick, the shell’s its prison; 
 So s flesh to the soul, who yet with Christ is risen. 
 The shell doth crack, the chick doth chirp and peep, 
 The flesh decays, as men do pray and weep. 
 
 The shell doth break, the chick’s at liberty, 
 
 The flesh falls off, the soul mounts up on high. 
 
 But both do not enjoy the self-same plight; 
 
 The soul is safe, the chick now fears the kite. 
 
 2 . 
 
 But chicks from rotten eggs do not proceed. 
 
 Nor is a hypocrite a saint indeed. 
 
 The rotten egg, though underneath the hen, 
 
 II crack’d, stinks, and is loathsome unto men. 
 
 Nor doth her warmth make what is rotten sound; 
 What’s rotten, rotten will at last be found. 
 
 The hypocrite, sin has him in possession, 
 lie is a rotten egg under profession. 
 
 3. 
 
 Some eggs bring cockatrices; and some men 
 Seem hatch’d and brooded in the viper’s den. 
 
 Some eggs bring wild-fowls; and some men there be 
 As wild as are the wildest fowls that flee. 
 
 Some eggs bring spiders, and some men appear 
 More venom’d than the v r orst of spiders are.- 
 
 1 Spiders being venomous was a vulgar error, universally 
 
750 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 Some eggs biing piss-ants, and some seem to me 
 As much for trifles as the piss-ants be. 
 
 Thus divers eggs do produce divers shapes, 
 
 As like some men as monkeys are like apes. 
 
 But this is but an egg, were it a chick, 
 
 Here had been legs, and wings, and bones to pick. 
 
 v. 
 
 OF FOWLS FLYING IN TIIE AIR. 
 
 Methinks I see a sight most excellent. 
 
 All sorts of birds fly in the firmament: 
 
 Some great, some small, all of a divers kind, 
 
 Mine eye affecting, pleasant to my mind. 
 
 Look how they tumble in the wholesome air, 
 
 Above the world of worldlings, and their care. 
 
 And as they divers are in bulk and hue, 
 
 So are they in their way of flying too. * 
 
 So many birds, so many various things 
 Tumbling i’ the element upon their whms. 
 
 The kingdom’s thine, the power too. 
 
 We thee adore; 
 
 The glory also shall be thine 
 For evermore. 
 
 VII. 
 
 meditations upon peep of day. 
 
 I oft, though it be peep of day, don’t know 
 Whether tis night, whether ’tis day or no. 
 
 I fancy that I see a little light. 
 
 But cannot yet distinguish day from night; 
 
 I hope, I doubt, but steady yet I be not, 
 
 I am not at a point, the sun I see not. 
 
 Thus tis with such who grace but now 3 possest. 
 They know not yet if they be cursed or blest, 
 
 VIII. 
 
 UPON TIIE FLINT IN TIIE WATER. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 These birds are emblems of those men that shall 
 Fre long possess the heavens, their all in all. 
 
 They are each of a diverse shape and kind. 
 
 To teach we of all nations there shall find,' 
 
 They are some great, some little, as we see, 
 
 To show some great, some small, in glory be . 1 
 Their flying diversely, as we behold. 
 
 Ho show saints’ joys will there be manifold; 
 
 Some glide, some mount, some flutter, and some do 
 In a mix d way of flying, glory too. 
 
 And all to show each saint, to his content. 
 
 Shall roll and tumble in that firmament. 
 
 VI. 
 
 UPON THE LORD’S PRAYER. 
 
 Ouu Father which in heaven art, 
 
 Ihy name be always hallowed; 
 
 Thy kingdom come, thy will be done; 
 Thy heavenly path be followed 
 By us on earth as ’tis with thee, 
 We humbly pray; 
 
 And let our bread us given be, 
 From day to day. 
 
 Forgive our debts as we forgive 
 Ihose that to us indebted are: 
 
 Into temptation lead us not , 2 
 
 But save us from the wicked snare. 
 
 flwT d ® m di3C0Veries have P^ved the cent 
 excepting a lew foreign species.—(E d ) 
 
 Re J « I 3 , 3 , scriptural idea of the inhabitants of he S 
 ■tie. xi. 8, saints small and great.’ Mat xix 28- «ti.p 
 
 l eT 1™ ‘A! 0 " 6 - “P «*“** on their thr 
 
 v 'll ‘L ii, ,, twe “*y eUers th * thrones.- 
 • li. An innumerable company of worshippers.’—(E d ' 
 
 In an ancient battledore or horn-book; and in on 
 
 This flint, time out of mind, has there abode, 
 Where crystal streams make their continual road. 
 Fet it abides a flint as much as ’twere 
 Before it touched the water, or came there 
 Its hard obdurateness is not abated, 
 
 Tis not at all by water penetrated. 
 
 Though water hath a soft’ning virtue in’t. 
 
 This stone it can’t dissolve, for ’tis a flint. 
 
 Yea, though it in the water doth remain, 
 
 It doth its fiery nature still retain. 
 
 If you oppose it with its opposite, 
 
 At you, yea, in your face, its fire ’twill spit. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This flint an emblem is of those that lie, 
 
 Like stones, under the Word, until they die. 
 
 Its crystal streams have not their nature changed, 
 They are not, from their lusts, by grace estranged. 
 
 IX. 
 
 UPON THE FISH IN THE WATER. 
 
 1 . 
 
 The water is the fish’s element; 
 
 Take her from thence, none can her death prevent; 
 And some have said, who have transgressors been, 
 As good not be, as to be kept from sin. 
 
 2 . 
 
 The water is the fish’s element: 
 
 Leave her but there, and she is well content. 
 
 Henry VIII’s primers, both in the editor’s possession 
 
 tw- (E k) lated ~‘ A ” d let us be & STS, 
 
 sin" o'iimAfP V’ 1 da ' v,,s "P° n the soul, anJ rev 
 
 3 t?e ^“ that 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 751 
 
 So’s lie, who in the path of life doth plod, 
 
 Take all, says he, let me but have my God. 
 
 3. I 
 
 The water is the fish’s element, 
 
 Her sportings there to her are excellent; 
 
 So is God’s service unto holy men. 
 
 They are not in their element till then. 
 
 X. 
 
 LTON TIIE SWALLOW. 
 
 This pretty bird, 0 ! how she flies and sings, 1 * 
 But could she do so if she had not wings ? 
 
 Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my peace; 
 When I believe and sing my doublings cease. 
 
 XI. 
 
 UPON TOE BEE. 
 
 The bee goes out, and honey home doth bring, 
 
 And some who seek that honey find a sting. 
 
 How would’st thou have the honey, and be free 
 From stinging, in the first place kill the bee. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This bee an emblem truly is of sin, 
 
 Whose sweet, unto a many, death hath been. 
 
 Now would’st have sweet from sin and yet not die. 
 Do thou it, in the first place, mortify. 
 
 XII. 
 
 UPON A LOWErJXG MORNING. 
 
 Well, with the day I see the clouds appear, 
 
 And mix the light with darkness everywhere; 
 
 This threatening is, to travellers that go 
 Long journeys, slabby rain they’ll have, or snow. 
 Else, while I gaze, the sun doth with his beams 
 Belace the clouds, as ’twere w r itli bloody streams; 
 This done, they suddenly do watery grow, 
 
 And weep, and pour their tears out where they go. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 Thus ’tis when gospel light doth usher in 
 To us both sense of grace and sense of sin; 
 
 Yea, when it makes sin red with Christ’s blood, 
 
 Then we can weep till weeping does us good. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 UPON OVER-MUCII NICENESS. 
 
 ’Tis much to see how over nice some are 
 About the body and household affair, 
 
 3 The swallow is remarkably swift in flight; ‘their note is 
 a slight twittering, which they seldom if ever exert but upon 
 the wing.’—Goldsmith’s Natural History. — (Em) I 
 
 While what’s of worth they slightly pass it by, 
 
 Not doing, or doing it slovenly. 
 
 Their house must be well furnished, be in print, 9 
 Meanwhile their soul lies ley, 3 has no good iu’t. 
 
 Its outside also they must beautify. 
 
 When in it there’s scarce common honesty. 
 
 Their bodies they must have tricked up and trim, 
 Their inside full of filth up to the brim. 
 
 Upon their clothes there must not be a spot, 
 
 But is their lives more than one common blot. 
 
 How nice, how coy are some about their diet. 
 
 That can their crying souls with hogs’-meat quiet. 
 All drest must to a hair be, else ’tis naught. 
 
 While of the living bread they have no thought. 
 Thus for their outside they are clean and nice, 
 
 W liile their poor inside stinks with sin and vice. 
 
 XIY. 
 
 MEDITATIONS UPON A CANDLE. 
 
 Man’s like a candle in a candlestick. 
 
 Made up of tallow and a little wick; 
 
 And as the candle when it is not lighted. 
 
 So is he who is in his sins benighted. 
 
 Nor can a man his soul with grace inspire, 
 
 More than can candles set themselves on fire. 
 Candles receive their light from what they are not; 
 Men grace from Him for whom at first they care not. 
 We manage candles when they take the fire; 
 
 God men, when he with grace doth them inspire. 
 And biggest candles give the better light. 
 
 As grace on biggest sinners shines most bright. 
 
 The candle shines to make another see, 
 
 A saint unto his neighbour light should be. 
 
 The blinking candle we do much despise. 
 
 Saints dim of light are high in no man’s eyes. 
 Again, though it may seem to some a riddle, 
 
 We use to light our candles at the middle. 4 
 True light doth at the candle’s end appear, 
 
 And grace the heart first reaches by the ear. 
 
 But ’tis the wick the fire doth kindle on, 
 
 As ’tis the heart that grace first works upon. 
 
 Thus both do fasten upon w r hat’s the main. 
 
 And so their life and vigour do maintain. 
 
 The tallow makes the w r ick yield to the fire, 
 
 And sinful flesh doth make the soul desire 
 That grace may kindle on it, in it burn; 
 
 So evil makes the soul from evil turn. 5 
 
 - ‘Be in print;’ a proverbial expression, to show order and 
 
 regularity ; like type in print. —(Ed.) 
 
 3 ‘ Ley; ’ barren or fallow, uncultivated, generally spelt lea. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 4 This riddle is solved in the fourth line following. The 
 light of the fear and love of God begins in the middle of our 
 bodily frame, with the heart. Bunyan’s love of religious 
 riddles is seen in the second part of the Pilgrimage, when 
 Christian is resting at the house of Gaius.—(E d.)' 
 
 5 Convictions of sin make the soul turn from sin.—(E d.) 
 
752 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 
 
 IK 
 
 
 A 
 
 But candles in the wind are apt to flare. 
 
 And Christians, in a tempest, to despair. 
 
 The flame also with smoke attended is. 
 
 And in our holy lives there’s much amiss. 
 
 Sometimes a thief will candle-light annoy. 
 
 And lusts do seek our graces to destroy. 
 
 What brackish is will make a candle sputter; 
 
 ’Twixt sin and grace there’s oft’ a heavy clutter. * 
 Sometimes the light burns dim, ’cause of the snuff, 
 Sometimes it is blown quite out with a puff; 
 
 But watchfulness preventeth both these evils, 
 
 Keeps candles light, and grace in spite of devils. 
 Nor let not snuffs nor puffs make us to doubt, 
 
 Our candles may be lighted, though puffed out. 
 
 The candle in the night doth all excel. 
 
 Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars, then shine so well. | 
 So is the Christian in our hemisphere. 
 
 Whose light shows others how their course to steer. 
 When candles are put out, all’s in confusion; 
 
 Where Christians are not, devils make intrusion. 
 Then happy are they who such candles have. 
 
 All others dwell in darkness and the grave. 
 
 But candles that do blink within the socket. 
 
 And saints, whose eyes are always in their pocket, 
 Are much alike; such candles make us fumble, 
 
 And at such saints good men and bad do stumble. 1 
 Good candles don’t offend, except sore eyes. 
 
 Nor hurt, unless it be the silly flies. 
 
 Thus none like burning candles in the night. 
 
 Nor ought 2 to holy living for delight. 
 
 But let us draw towards the candle’s end: 
 
 The fire, you see, doth wick and tallow spend, 
 
 As grace man’s life until his glass is rim, 
 
 And so the candle and the man is done. 
 
 The man now lays him down upon his bed. 
 
 The wick yields up its fire, and so is dead. 
 
 The candle now extinct is, but the man 
 By grace mounts up to glory, there to stand. 
 
 XY. 
 
 UPON TI1E SACRAMENTS. 
 
 Two sacraments I do believe there be. 
 
 Baptism and the Supper of the Lord; 
 
 Both mysteries divine, which do to me. 
 
 By God’s appointment, benefit afford. 
 
 But shall they be my God, or shall I have 
 Of them so foul and impious a thought, 
 
 To think that from the curse they can me save ? 
 Bread, wine, nor water, me no ransom bought. 3 
 
 1 This character is admirably drawn in the second part of 
 the Vi!grim s Progress, p. 200—Mr. Brisk, a suitor to Mercy. 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 2 Preterite of the verb * to save,’ from the Saxon agan , to 
 bo held or bound by moral obligation.— Imperial Dictionary . 
 
 3 What folly, nay, madness, for man to pretend to make 
 
 XYI. 
 
 UPON TIIE sun’s reflection upon tiie clouds in 
 
 A FAIR MORNING. 
 
 Look yonder, ah! metliinks mine eyes do see 
 Clouds edged with silver, as fine garments be; 
 
 They look as if they saw that golden face 
 That makes black clouds most beautiful with grace. 
 Unto the saints’ sweet incense, or their prayer. 
 These smoky curdled clouds I do compare. 
 
 Bor as these clouds seem edged, or laced with gold, 
 Their prayers return with blessings manifold. 
 
 XY11 
 
 UPON APPAREL. 
 
 God gave us clothes to hide our nakedness 
 And we by them do it expose to view. 
 
 Our pride and unclean minds to an excess. 
 
 By our apparel, we to others show. 4 
 
 XYI II. 
 
 THE SINNER AND THE SPIDER. 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 What black, what ugly crawling thing art thou ? 
 
 Spider. 
 
 I am a spider- 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 A spider, ay, also a filthy creature. 
 
 Spider. 
 
 Not filthy as thyself in name or feature. 
 
 My name entailed is to my creation, 
 
 My features from the God of thy salvation. 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 I am a man, and in God’s image made, 
 
 I have a soul shall neither die nor fade, 
 
 God has possessed me 5 with human reason, 
 
 Speak not against me lest thou speakest treason. 
 
 Bor if I am the image of my Maker, 
 
 Of slanders laid on me lie is partaker. 
 
 Spider. 
 
 I know thou art a creature far above me, 
 
 Therefore I shun, I fear, and also love thee. 
 
 God of a little flour, or to rely for forgiveness of sin on a 
 wafer, a bit of bread, or a little wine or water. IIow de¬ 
 graded is he that pretends to believe such palpable absurdities. 
 -(Ed.) 
 
 4 This is one of Bunyan’s keen, shrewd, home thrusts. 
 Clothes professedly made to hide what they studiously display I! 
 —(Ed.) 
 
 5 Possessed me with, or has given me possession of.— (Ed.) 
 
753 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 1 plan’s sinfulness, by nature aud practice, justly, but awfully 
 
 described.— Mason. 3 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 But though thy God hath made thee such a crea¬ 
 ture, 
 
 'lliou hast against him often played the traitor. 
 
 Thy sin has tetched thee down: leave off to boast; 
 Nature thou hast defiled, God’s image lost. 
 
 Yea, thou thyself a very beast hast made. 
 
 And art become like grass, which soon doth fade. 
 Thy soul, thy reason, yea, thy spotless state, 
 
 Sin has subjected to th 5 most dreadful fate. 
 
 But I retain my primitive condition, 
 
 I \ e all but what I lost by thy ambition. 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 Thou venoined thing, I know not what to cal 
 thee, 
 
 The dregs of nature surely did befall thee. 
 
 Thou wast made of the dross and scum of all, 
 
 Man hates thee; doth, in scorn, thee spider call. 
 
 Spider. 
 
 My venom's good for something, ’cause God made it, 
 Thy sin hath spoiled thy nature, doth degrade it. 
 
 Of human virtues, therefore, though I fear thee, 
 
 I will not, though I might, despise and jeer thee. 
 Ihou say’st I am the very dregs of nature, 
 
 Thy sin’s the spawn of devils, ’tis no creature. 
 
 Thou say’st man hates me ’cause I am a spider. 
 Poor man, thou at thy God art a derider; 
 
 My venom tendeth to my preservation. 
 
 Thy pleasing follies work out thy damnation. 
 
 Poor man, I keep the rules of my creation, 
 lhy sin has cast thee headlong from thy station. 
 
 I hurt nobody willingly, but thou 
 
 Art a self-murderer; thou know’st not how 
 
 To do what good is; no, thou lovest evil; 
 
 Thou fliest God’s law, adherest to the devil. 1 * 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 Ill-shaped creature, there’s antipathy 
 ’Twixt man and spiders, ’tis in vain to lie; 
 
 I hate thee, stand ofl, if thou dost come nigh me, 
 
 I’ll crush thee with my foot; I do defy thee. 
 
 Spider. 
 
 They are ill-shaped, who warped are by sin, 
 Antipathy in thee hath long time been 
 To God; no marvel, then, if me, his creature. 
 Thou dost defy, pretending name and feature. 
 
 But why stand off ? My presence shall not thron 
 thee, 
 
 'Tis not my venom, but thy sin doth wrong thee. 
 Come, I will teach thee wisdom, do but hear me, 
 
 I was made for thy profit, do not fear me. 
 
 But if thy God thou wilt not hearken to. 
 
 What can the swallow, ant, or spider do ? 
 
 Yet I will speak, I can but be rejected, 
 
 Sometimes great things by small means are effected. 
 Hark, then, though man is noble by creation, 
 
 He s lapsed now to such degeneration. 
 
 Is so besotted and so careless grown. 
 
 As not to grieve though he has overthrown 
 Himself, and brought to bondage everything 
 Created, from the spider to the king. 
 
 This we poor sensitives do feel and see; 
 
 Por subject to the curse you made us be. 
 
 Tread not upon me, neither from me go; 
 
 ’Tis man which has brought all the world to woe. 
 The law of my creation bids me teach thee; 
 
 I will not for thy pride to God impeach thee. 
 
 I spin, I weave, and all to let thee see. 
 
 Thy best performances but cobwebs be. 
 
 Thy glory now is brought to such an ebb. 
 
 It doth not much excel the spider’s web ; 
 
 My webs becoming snares and traps for flies. 
 
 Do set the wiles of hell before thine eyes; 
 
 Their tangling nature is to let thee see. 
 
 Thy sins too of a tangling nature be. 
 
 My den, or hole, for that ’tis bottomless, 
 
 Doth of damnation show the lastingness. 
 
 My lying quiet until the fly is catch’d, 
 
 Shows secretly hell hath thy ruin hatch’d. 
 
 In that I on her seize, when she is taken, 
 
 I show who gathers whom God hath forsaken. 
 
 The fly lies buzzing in my web to tell 
 Thee how the sinners roar and howl in hell. 
 
 Now, since I show thee all these mysteries. 
 
 How canst thou hate me, or me scandalize ? 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 Well, well; I no more will be a derider, 
 
 I did not look for such things from a spider. 
 
 Spider. 
 
 Come, hold thy peace; what I have yet to say. 
 
 If heeded, help thee may another day. 
 
 Since I an ugly ven’mous creature be, 
 
 There is some semblance ’twixt vile man and me. 
 
 My wild and heedless runnings arc like those 
 Whose ways to min do their souls expose. 
 
 Daylight is not my time, I work in th’ night, 
 
 To show they are like me who hate the light. 
 
 The maid sweeps one web down, I make another. 
 
 To show how heedless ones convictions smother; 
 
 My web is no defence at all to me, 
 
 Nor will false hopes at judgment be to thee. 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 O spider, I have heard thee, and do wonder 
 A spider should thus lighten and thus thunder! 
 
 95 
 
754 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 Spider. 
 
 Do but bold still, and I will let tbee see 
 Yet in my ways more mysteries there be. 
 
 Shall not I do thee good, if I thee tell, 
 
 I show to thee a four-fold way to hell; 
 
 For, since I set my web in sundry places, 
 
 I show men go to hell in divers traces. 
 
 One I set in the window, that I might 
 Show some go down to hell with gospel light. 
 
 One I set in a corner, as you see. 
 
 To show how some in secret snared be. 
 
 Gross webs great store I set in darksome places, 
 
 To show how many sin with brazen faces; 
 
 Another web I set aloft on high. 
 
 To show there’s some professing men must die. 
 
 Thus in my ways God wisdom doth conceal, 
 
 And by my ways that wisdom doth reveal. 
 
 I hide myself when I for flies do wait, 
 
 So doth the devil when he lays his bait; 
 
 If I do fear the losing of my prey, 
 
 I stir me, and more snares upon her lay: 
 
 This way and that her wings and legs I tie, 
 
 That, sure as she is catch’d, so she must die. 
 
 But if I see she’s like to get away, 
 
 Then with my venom I her jonrney stay. 
 
 All which my ways the devil imitates 
 To catch men, ’cause he their salvation hates. 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 0 spider, thou delight’st me with thy skill! 
 
 I pr’ythee spit this venom at me still. 
 
 Spider. 
 
 I am a spider, yet I can possess 
 The palace of a king, where happiness 
 So much abounds. Nor when I do go thither, 
 
 Do they ask what, or whence I come, or whither 
 I make my hasty travels; no, not they; 
 
 They let me pass, and I go on my way. 
 
 I seize the palace, 1 do with hands take hold 
 Of doors, of locks, or bolts; yea, I am bold, 
 
 When in, to clamber up unto the throne, 
 
 And to possess it, as if ’twere mine own. 
 
 Nor is there any law forbidding me 
 Here to abide, or in this palace be. 
 
 Yea, if I please, I do the highest stories 
 Ascend, there sit, and so behold the glories 
 Myself is compassed with, as if I were 
 One of the chiefest courtiers that be there. 
 
 Here lords and ladies do come round about me, 
 With grave demeanour, nor do any flout me 
 For this, my brave adventure, no, not they; 
 
 They come, they go, but leave me there to stay. 
 
 1 See Pr. xxx. 20, and Pilgrim s Progress, p. 185. There 
 is also a very striking allusion to the subject of this emblem, 
 in Bunyan’s Light in Darkness, vol. i., p. 435. 
 
 Now, my reproacher, I do by all this 
 
 Show how thou may’st possess thyself of bliss: 
 
 Thou art worse than a spider, but take hold 
 On Christ the door, thou shalt not be controll’d. 
 
 By him do thou the heavenly palace enter; 
 
 None chide thee will for this thy brave adventure; 
 Approach thou then unto the very throne, 
 
 There speak thy mind, fear not, the day’s thine 
 own; 
 
 Nor saint, nor angel, will thee stop or stay. 
 
 But rather tumble blocks out of the way. 
 
 My venom stops not me; let not thy vice 
 Stop thee; possess thyself of paradise. 
 
 Go on, I say, although thou be a sinner. 
 
 Learn to be bold in faith, of me a spinner. 
 
 This is the way the glories to possess, 
 
 And to enjoy what no man can express. 
 
 Sometimes I find the palace door uplock’d, 
 
 And so my entrance thither has upblock’d. 
 
 But am I daunted ? No, I here and there 
 Do feel and search; so if I anywhere, 
 
 At any chink or crevice, find my way, 
 
 I crowd, I press for passage, make no stay. 
 
 And so through difficulty I attain 
 
 The palace; yea, the throne where princes reign. 
 
 I crowd sometimes, as if I’d burst in sunder; 
 
 And art thou crushed with striving, do not wonder. 
 Some scarce get in, and yet indeed they enter; 
 Knock, for they nothing have, that nothing venture. 
 Nor will the King himself throw dirt on thee, 
 
 As thou hast cast reproaches upon me. 
 
 He will not hate thee, 0 thou foul backslider! 
 
 As thou didst me, because I am a spider. 
 
 Now, to conclude: since I such doctrine bring, 
 Slight me no more, call me not ugly thing. 
 
 God wisdom hath unto the piss-ant given, 
 
 And spiders may teach men the way to heaven. 
 
 Sinner. 
 
 Well, my good spider, I my errors sec, 
 
 I was a fool for railing upon thee. 
 
 Thy nature, venom, and thy fearful hue, 
 
 Both show what sinners are, and what they do. 
 
 Thy way and works do also darkly tell, 
 
 How some men go to heaven, and some to hell. 
 Thou art my monitor, I am a fool; 
 
 They learn may, that to spiders go to school. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 MEDITATIONS UrON THE DAY BEFORE THE SUN¬ 
 RISING. 
 
 But all this while, where’s he whose golden rays 
 Drives night away and beautifies our days ? 
 Where’s he whose goodly face doth warm and heal, 
 And show us what the darksome nights conceal ? 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 75 
 
 Where s lie that thaws our ice, drives cold away P 
 Let’s have him, or we care not for the day. 
 
 Thus ’tis with who partakers are of "race, 
 
 There s nought to them like their Redeemer’s face. 
 
 XX. 
 
 OF THE MOLE IN TIIE GROUND. 
 
 Tiie mole’s a creature very smooth and slick, 
 
 She digs i tli dirt, but Twill not on her stick; 
 
 So s he who counts this world his greatest gains, 
 let nothing gets hut’s labour for his pains. 
 
 Earth’s the mole’s element, she can’t abide 
 To be above ground, dirt heaps are her pride; 
 
 And he is like her who the worldling plays. 
 
 He imitates her in her work and ways. 
 
 Poor silly mole, that thou should’st love to be 
 Where thou nor sun, nor moon, nor stars can see. 
 But 0 ! how silly’s he who doth not care 
 So he gets earth, to have of heaven a share! 
 
 xxr. 
 
 OF THE CUCKOO. 
 
 Thou booby, say’st thou nothing but Cuckoo ? 
 
 The robin and the wren can thee outdo. 
 
 They to us play thorough their little throats. 
 
 Taking not one, but sundry pretty taking notes. 
 
 But thou hast fellows, some like thee can do 
 Little but suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo. 
 
 Thy notes do not first welcome in our spring. 
 
 Nor dost thou its first tokens to us bring. 
 
 Birds less than thee by far, like prophets, do 
 Tell us, ’tis coming, though not by Cuckoo. 
 
 Nor dost thou summer have away with thee. 
 
 Though thou a yawling bawling Cuckoo be. 
 
 When thou dost cease among us to appear, 
 
 Then doth our harvest bravely crown our year. 
 
 But thou hast fellows, some like thee can do 
 Little but suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo. 
 
 Since Cuckoos forward not our early spring. 
 
 Nor help with notes to bring our harvest in; 
 
 And since, while here, she only makes a noise, 
 
 So pleasing unto none as girls and boys. 
 
 The Formalist we may compare her to, 
 
 For he doth suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 OF TIIE BOY AND BUTTERFLY. 
 
 Beiiold how eager this our little boy 
 Is for this Butterfly, as if all joy, 
 
 All profits, honours, yea, and lasting pleasures, 
 
 W ere wrapt up in her, or the richest treasures, 
 hound in her, w r ould be bundled up together. 
 
 When all her all is lighter than a feather. 
 
 He halloos, runs, and cries out. Here, boys, here, 
 Lor doth he brambles or the nettles fear, 
 lie stumbles at the mole-hills, up he gets. 
 
 And runs again, as one bereft of wits; 
 
 And all this labour and this large outcry. 
 
 Is only for a silly butterfly. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This little boy an emblem is of those 
 "Whose hearts are wholly at the world’s dispose. 
 The butterfly doth represent to me. 
 
 The world’s best things at best but fading be. 
 
 All are but painted nothings and false joys. 
 
 Like this poor butterfly to these our boys. 
 
 His running thorough nettles, thorns, and briars. 
 To gratify his boyish fond desires; 
 
 His tumbling over mole-hills to attain 
 His end, namely, his butterfly to gain; 
 
 Doth plainly show what hazards some mCn run. 
 
 To get what will be lost as soon as won. 
 
 Men seem in choice, than children far more wk e. 
 Because they run not after butterflies; 
 
 When yet, alas ! for what are empty toys, 
 
 They follow children, like to beardless boys.* 
 
 v 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 OF TIIE FLY AT TIIE CANDLE. 
 
 What ails this fly thus desperately to enter 
 A combat with the candle? Will she venture 
 To clash at light ? Away, thou silly fly; 
 
 Thus doing thou wilt burn thy wings and die. 
 
 But ’tis a folly her advice to give, 
 
 She’ll kill the candle, or she will not live. 
 
 Slap, says she, at it; then she makes retreat, 
 
 So wheels about, and doth her blows repeat. 
 
 Nor doth the candle let her quite escape. 
 
 But gives some little check unto the ape: 
 
 Throws up her heels it doth, so down she falls, 
 Where she lies sprawling, and for succour calls. 
 When she recovers, up she gets again, 
 
 And at the candle comes with might and main. 
 
 But now behold, the candle takes the fly. 
 
 And holds her, till she doth by burning die. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This candle is an emblem of that light 
 Our gospel gives in this our darksome night. 
 
 The fly a lively picture is of those 
 That hate and do this gospel light oppose. 
 
 At last the gospel doth become their snare, 
 
 Doth them w ith burning hands in pieces tear. 9 
 
 He who, in riper years, seeks happiness in sensual grati¬ 
 fication, is a child in understanding: he only changes his 
 toys .— (Ed.) 
 
 2 ‘To the one, a savour of death unto death; and to the 
 other, a savour of life uuto life,” 2 Co. ii. 16. 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRL C . 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 ON THE RISING OF THE SUN. 
 
 Look, look, brave Sol doth peep up from beneath, . 
 Shows us his golden face, doth on us breathe; 
 
 He also doth compass us round with glories, 
 
 Whilst he ascends up to his highest stories. 
 
 Where he his banner over us displays, 
 
 And gives us light to see our works and ways. 
 
 Nor are we now, as at the peep of light, 
 
 To question, is it day, or is it night ? 
 
 The night is gone, the shadows fled away. 
 
 And we now most sure are that it is day. 
 
 Our eyes behold it, and our hearts believe it; 
 
 Nor can the wit of man in this deceive it. 
 
 And thus it is when Jesus shows his face, 
 
 And doth assure us of his love and grace. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 UPON THE PROMISING FRUITFULNESS OF A TREE. 
 
 A comely sight indeed it is to see 
 A world of blossoms on an apple-tree: 
 
 Yet far more comely would this tree appear, 
 
 If all its dainty blooms young apples were. 
 
 But how much more might one upon it see. 
 
 If all would hang there till they ripe should be. 
 
 But most of all in beauty ’twould abound, 
 
 If then none worm-eaten should there be found. 
 
 But we, alas ! do commonly behold 
 Blooms fall apace, if mornings be but cold. 
 
 They too, which hang till they young apples are, 
 
 By blasting winds and vermin take despair, 
 
 Store that do hang, wliile almost ripe, we see 
 By blust’ring winds are shaken from the tree, 
 
 So that of many, only some there be, 
 
 That grow till they come to maturity. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This tree a perfect emblem is of those 
 
 Which God doth plant, which in his garden grows, 
 
 Its blasted blooms are motions unto good, 
 
 WTiich chill affections do nip in the bud. 
 
 Those little apples which yet blasted are, 
 
 Show some good purposes, no good fruits bear. 
 Those spoiled by vermin are to let us see. 
 
 How good attempts by bad thoughts ruin’d be.. 
 Those which the wind blows down, while they are 
 green, 
 
 Show good works have by trials spoiled been. 
 
 Those that abide, while ripe upon the tree, 
 
 Show, in a good man, some ripe fruit will be. 
 Behold then how abortive some fruits are, 
 
 Which at the first most promising appear. 
 
 The frost, the wind, the worm, with time doth show. 
 There flows, from much appearance, works but few. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 UPON THE THIEF. 
 
 The thief, when he doth steal, thinks he doth gain; 
 Yet then the greatest loss he doth sustain. 
 
 Come, thief, tell me thy gains, but do not falter, 
 "When summ’d, what comes it to more than the 
 halter ? 
 
 Perhaps, thoul’t say. The halter I defy; 
 
 So thou may’st say, yet by the halter die. 
 
 Thou’lt say, Then there’s an end; no, pr’ythee, hold. 
 He was no friend of thine that thee so told. 
 
 Hear thou the W r ord of God, that will thee tell. 
 Without repentance thieves must go to hell. 
 
 But should it be as thy false prophet says. 
 
 Yet nought but loss doth come by thievish ways. 
 All honest men will flee thy company. 
 
 Thou liv’st a rogue, and so a rogue will die. 
 Innocent boldness thou hast none at all, 
 
 Thy inward thoughts do thee a villain call. 
 Sometimes when thou liest warmly on thy bed, 
 Thou art like one unto the gallows led. 
 
 Pear, as a constable, breaks in upon thee. 
 
 Thou art as if the town was up to stone thee. 
 
 If hogs do grunt, or silly rats do rustle, 
 
 Thou art in consternation, think’st a bustle 
 By men about the door, is made to take thee. 
 
 And all because good conscience doth forsake thee. 
 Thy case is most deplorably so bad. 
 
 Thou shunn’st to think on’t, lest thou shouldstbemad. 
 Thou art beset with mischiefs every way, 
 
 The gallows groaneth for thee every day. 
 Wherefore, I pr’ythee, thief, thy theft forbear. 
 Consult thy safety, pr’ythee, have a care. 
 
 If once thy head be got within tho noose, 
 
 ’Twill be too late a longer life to choose. 
 
 As to the penitent thou readest of. 
 
 What’s that to them who at repentance scoff. 
 
 Nor is that grace at thy command or power. 
 
 That thou should’st put it off till the last hour. 
 
 I pr’ythee, thief, think on’t, and turn betime; 
 
 Pew go to life who do the gallows climb. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 OF THE CniLD WITH THE BIRD AT THE BUSH. 
 
 My little bird, how canst thou sit 
 And sing amidst so many thorns ? 
 
 Let me a hold upon thee get, 
 
 My love with honour thee adorns. 
 
 Thou art at present little worth, 
 
 Pive farthings none will give for thee, 
 
 But pr’ythee, little bird, come forth. 
 
 Thou of more value art to me. 
 
 ’Tis true it is sunshine to-day, 
 
 To-morrow birds will have a storm; 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 757 
 
 My pretty one come thou away. 
 
 My bosom then shall keeep thee warm. 
 
 Thou subject are to cold o’nights, 
 
 When darkness is thy covering; 
 
 At days thy danger’s great by kites, 
 
 How can’st thou then sit there and sincr P 
 
 O 
 
 Thy food is scarce and scanty too, 
 
 ’Tis worms and trash which thou dost eat; 
 
 Thy present state I pity do, 
 
 Come, I’ll provide thee better meat. 
 
 I’ll feed thee with white bread and milk. 
 
 And sugar plumbs, if them thou crave. 
 
 I’ll cover thee with finest silk, 
 
 That from the cold I may thee save. 
 
 My father’s palace shall be thine, 
 
 Yea, in it thou shalt sit and sing; 
 
 My little bird, if thou’lt be mine, 
 
 The whole year round shall be thy spring. 
 
 I’ll teach thee all the notes at court, 
 Unthought-of music thou shalt play; 
 
 And all that thither do resort, 
 
 Shall praise thee for it every day. 
 
 I’ll keep thee safe from cat and cur, 
 
 No manner o’ harm shall come to thee; 
 
 Yea, I will be thy succourer, 
 
 My bosom shall thy cabin be. 
 
 But lo, behold, the bird is gone; 
 
 These charmings would not make her yield; 
 
 The child’s left at the bush alone, 
 
 The bird flies yonder o’er the field. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This child of Christ an emblem is. 
 
 The bird to sinners I compare, 
 
 The thorns are like those sins of his 
 Which do surround him everywhere. 
 
 Her songs, her food, and sunshine dav. 
 
 Are emblems of those foolish toys, 
 
 Which to destruction lead the way, 
 
 The fruit of worldly, empty joys. 
 
 The arguments this child doth choose 
 To draw to him a bird thus wild, 
 
 Shows Christ familiar speech doth use 
 To make’s to him be reconciled. 
 
 The bird in that she takes her wing, 
 
 To speed her from him after all. 
 
 Shows us vain man loves any thing 
 Much better than the heavenly call. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 OF MOSES AND HIS WIFE. 
 
 This Moses was a fair and comely man, 
 
 His wife a swarthy Ethiopian; 
 
 Nor did his milk-white bosom change her skin. 
 
 She came out thence as black as she went in. 
 
 Now Moses was a type of Moses’ law, 
 
 His wife likewise of one that never saw 
 Another way unto eternal life; 
 
 There’s mystery, then, in Moses and his wife. 
 The law is very holy, just, and good, 
 
 And to it is espoused all flesh and blood ;• 
 
 But this its goodness it cannot bestow 
 On any that are wedded thereunto. 
 
 Therefore as Moses’ wife came swarthy in, 
 
 And went out from him without change of skin. 
 So he that doth the law for life adore. 
 
 Shall yet by it be left a black-a-more. 
 
 OF THE ROSE-BUSIT. 
 
 This homely bush doth to mine eyes expose 
 A very fair, yea, comely ruddy rose. 
 
 This rose doth also bow its head to me, 
 
 Saying, Come, pluck me, I thy rose will be; 
 
 Yet offer I to gather rose or bud, 
 
 Ten to one but the bush will have my blood. 
 
 This looks like a trapan, 1 or a decoy, 
 
 To offer, and yet snap, who would enjoy; 
 
 Yea, the more eager on’t, the more in danger. 
 
 Be he the master of it, or a stranger. 
 
 Bush, why dost bear a rose if none must have it. 
 Who dost expose it, yet claw those that crave it ? 
 Art become freakish ? dost the wanton play. 
 
 Or doth thy testy humour tend its way ? 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This rose God’s Son is, with his ruddy looks. 
 
 But what’s the bush, whose prioks, like tenter-hooks. 
 Do scratch and claw the finest lady’s hands, 
 
 Or rend her clothes, if she too near it stands P 
 This bush an emblem is of Adam’s race, 
 
 Of which Christ came, when he his Father’s grace 
 Commended to us in his crimson blood, 
 
 While he in sinners’ stead and nature stood. 
 
 Thus Adam’s race did bear this dainty rose, 
 
 And doth the same to Adam’s race expose; 
 
 But those of Adam’s race winch at it catch, 
 
 Adam’s race will them prick, and claw, and scratch. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 OF THE GOING DOWN OF TIIE SUN. 
 
 Wiiat, hast thou run thy race, art going down? 
 Thou seemest angry, why dost on us frown ? 
 
 Yea, wrap thy head with clouds and hide thy face. 
 As threatening to withdraw from us thy grace ? 
 
 0 leave us not! When once thou hid’st thy head. 
 Our horizon with darkness will be spread. 
 
 1 ‘Trapan’ is the Saxon verb to eusuare, modernized to 
 trap.—(E d.) 
 
 
 
758 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 Tell who hath thee offended, turn again. 
 
 Alas! too late, intreaties are in vaiu. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 Our gospel has had here a summer’s day-, 
 
 But in its sunshine we, like fools, did play; 
 
 Or else fall out, and with each other wrangle. 
 
 And did, instead of work, not much but jangle. 
 And if our sun seems angry, hides his face, 
 
 Shall it go down, shall night possess this place ? 
 Let not the voice of night birds us afflict. 
 
 And of our misspent summer us convict. 1 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 UPON THE FROG. 
 
 The frog by nature is both damp and cold, 
 
 Her mouth is large, her belly much will hold; 
 
 She sits somewhat ascending, loves to be 
 Croaking in gardens, though unpleasantly. 
 
 •• * s, V- ’ l i m 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 The hypocrite is like unto this frog, 
 
 As like as is the puppy to the dog. 
 
 He is of nature cold, his mouth is wide 
 To prate, and at true goodness to deride. 
 
 He mounts his head as if he was above 
 
 The world, when yet ’tis that which has his love. 
 
 And though he seeks in churches for to croak. 
 
 He neither loveth Jesus nor his yoke. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 UPON TIIE WHIPPING OF A TOP. 
 
 *Tis with the whip the boy sets up the top, 
 
 The whip makes it run round upon its toe; 
 
 The whip makes it hither and thither hop: 
 
 ’Tis with the whip the top is made to go. 
 
 - ' 
 
 Comparison . 
 
 Our legalist is like unto this top, 
 
 Without a whip he doth not duty do; 
 
 Let Moses whip him, he will skip and hop; 
 
 Borbear to whip, he’ll neither stand nor go. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 UPON THE PISMIRE. 
 
 Must we unto the pismire go to school, 
 
 To learn of her in summer to provide 
 Lor winter next ensuing. Man’s a fool, 
 
 Or silly ants would not be made his guide. 
 
 1 How agonizing will be the cry of the lost soul—* The 
 harvest is past, the summer is ended, aud we are not saved,’ 
 Jer. viii. 20 .—(Ed.) Upon the brittle thread of life hang 
 everlasting things.— Mason. 
 
 But, sluggard, is it not a shame for thee 
 
 To be outdone by pismires ? Pr’ythee hear: 
 Their works, too, will thy condemnation be 
 When at the judgment-seat thou shalt appear. 
 But since thy God doth bid thee to her go. 
 
 Obey, her ways consider, and be wise; 
 
 The piss-ant tell thee will what thou must do, 
 Aud set the way to life before thine eyes. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 UPON THE BEGGAR. 
 
 He wants, he asks, he pleads his poverty, 
 
 They within doors do him an alms deny. 
 
 He doth repeat and aggravate his grief, 
 
 But they repulse him, give him no relief. 
 
 He begs, they say, Begone; he will not hear, 
 
 But coughs, sighs, and makes signs he still is tlier 
 They disregard him, he repeats his groans; 
 
 They still say nay, and he himself bemoans. 
 
 They grow more rugged, they call him vagrant; 
 He cries the shriller, trumpets out his -want. 
 
 At last, when they perceive he’ll take no nay. 
 
 An alms they give him without more delay. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This beggar doth resemble them that pray 
 To God for mercy, and will take no nay. 
 
 But wait, and count that all his hard gainsays 
 Are nothing else but fatherly delays; 
 
 Then imitate him, praying souls, and cry; 
 
 There’s nothing like to importunity. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 UPON THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER. 
 
 There’s one rides very sagely on the road, 
 Showing that he affects the gravest mode. 
 Another rides tantivy, or full trot. 
 
 To show much gravity he matters not. 
 
 Lo, here comes one amain, he rides full speed. 
 Hedge, ditch, nor miry bog, he doth not heed. 
 One claws it up-hill without stop or check. 
 Another down as if he’d break his neck. 
 
 Now every horse has his especial guider; 
 
 Then by his going you may know the rider. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 Now let us turn our horse into a man. 
 
 His rider to a spirit, if we can. 
 
 Then let us, by the methods of the guider. 
 
 Tell every horse how he should know his rider. 
 Some go, as men, direct in a right way. 
 
 Nor are they suffered to go astray; 
 
 As with a bridle they are governed, 
 
 And kept from paths which lead unto the dead. 
 
the mmi 
 
 OF fBE 
 
 IWlVEBSlir »f »UJ?S8IS 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 THE BOY AND WATCIIMAKCII. 
 
 759 
 
 Now this good man has his especial guider. 
 
 Then by his going let him know his rider. 
 
 Some go as if they did not greatly care, 
 
 Whether of heaven or hell they should be heir. 
 
 The rein, it seems, is laid upon their neck, 
 
 They seem to go their way without a check. 
 
 Now this man too has his especial guider. 
 
 And by his going he may know his rider. 
 
 Some again run as if resolved to die, 
 
 Body and soul, to all eternity. 
 
 Good counsel they by no means can abide; 
 
 They’ll have their course whatever them betide. 
 
 Now these poor men have their especial guider, 
 
 Were they not fools they soon might know their rider. 
 There’s one makes head against all godliness, 
 
 Those too, that do profess it, he’ll distress; 
 
 He’ll taunt and flout if goodness doth appear, 
 
 And at its countenancers mock and jeer. 
 
 Now this man, too, has his especial guider. 
 
 And by his going he might know his rider. 
 
 XXXVI. j 
 
 I 
 
 UPON THE SIGHT OF A POUND OF CANDLES FALLING | 
 TO THE GROUND. 
 
 But be the candles down, and scattered too. 
 
 Some lying here, some there ? What shall we do ? i 
 Hold, light the candle there that stands on high. 
 
 It you may find the other candles by. 
 
 Light that, I say, and so take up the pound 
 You did let fall and scatter on the ground. 
 
 I 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 The fallen candles do us intimate 
 
 The bulk of God’s elect in their laps’d state; 
 
 Their lying scattered in the dark may be 
 To show, by man’s lapsed state, his misery. 
 
 The candle that was taken down and lighted. 
 Thereby to find them fallen and benighted. 
 
 Is Jesus Christ; God, by his light, doth gather 
 Who he will save, and be unto a Bather. 
 
 XXXVII. ! 
 
 UPON A PENNY LOAF. 
 
 Thy price one penny is in time of plenty, 
 
 In famine doubled, ’tis from one to twenty. 
 
 Yea, no man knows what price on thee to set 
 When there is but one penny loaf to get. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This loafs an emblem of the Word of God, 
 
 A thing of low esteem before the rod 
 Of famine smites the soul with fear of death, 
 
 But then it is our all, our life, our breath. 1 
 
 1 When the Word of God dwells in us richly in all wisdom, 
 
 This watch my father did on me bestow, 
 
 A golden one it is, but ’twill not go. 
 
 Unless it be at an uncertainty: 
 
 But as good none as one to tell a lie. 
 
 When ’tis high day my hand will stand at nine; 
 
 I think there’s no man’s watch so bad as mine. 
 Sometimes ’tis sullen, ’twill not go at all. 
 
 And yet ’twas never broke nor had a fall. 
 
 Watchmaker. 
 
 Your watch, though it be good, through want of skill 
 May fail to do according to your will. 
 
 Suppose the balance, wheels, and springs be good, 
 And all things else, unless you understood 
 To manage it, as watches ought to be, 
 
 Your watch will still be at uncertainty. 
 
 Come, tell me, do you keep it from the dust. 
 
 Yea, wind it also duly up you must ? 
 
 Take heed, too, that you do not strain the spring; 
 You must be circumspect in every thing, 
 
 Or else your watch, were it as good again, 
 
 Would not with time and tide you entertain. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 This i)oy an emblem is of a convert, 
 
 His watch of the work of grace within his heart. 
 The watch-maker is Jesus Christ our Lord, 
 
 His counsel, the directions of his Word; 
 
 Then convert, if thy heart be out of frame, 
 
 Of this watch-maker learn to mend the same. 
 
 Do not lay ope’ thy heart to worldly dust. 
 
 Nor let thy graces over-grow with rust. 
 
 Be oft’ renewed in th’ spirit of thy mind, 
 
 Or else uncertain thou thy watch wilt find. ( 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 UPON A LOOKING-GLAS3. 
 
 In this see thou thy beauty, hast thou any. 
 
 Or thy defects, should they be few or many. 
 
 Thou may’st, too, here thy spots and freckles see. 
 Hast thou but eyes, and what their numbers be. 
 But art thou blind ? There is no looking-glass 
 Can show thee thy defects, thy spots, or face. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 Unto this glass we may compare the Word, 
 
 Bor that to man advantage doth afford 
 (Has he a mind to know himself and state). 
 
 To see what will be his eternal fate. 
 
 then will the peace of God rule in our hearts, and we shall he 
 6weetly inclined to every good thought, word, and work. • 
 (Ed.) 
 
760 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 But without eyes, alas ! how can he sec P 
 Many that seem to look here, blind men be. 
 
 This is the reason they so often read 
 
 Their judgment there, and do it nothing dread. 
 
 XL. 
 
 OF THE LOVE OF CUEIST. 
 
 The love of Christ, poor I! may touch upon; 
 But ’tis unsearchable. 0 ! there is none 
 Its large dimensions can comprehend 
 Should they dilate thereon world without end. 
 When we had sinned, in his zeal he sware. 
 
 That lie upon his back our sins would bear. 
 
 And since unto sin is entailed death, 
 lie vowed for our sins he’d lose his breath. 
 
 He did not only say, vow, or resolve. 
 
 But to astonishment did so involve 
 Himself in man’s distress and misery. 
 
 As for, and with him, both to live and die. 
 
 To his eternal fame in sacred story, 
 
 We find that he did lay aside his glory. 
 
 Stepped from the throne of highest dignity. 
 Became poor man, did in a manger lie; 
 
 Yea, was beholden unto his for bread, 
 
 Had, of his own, not where to lay his head; 
 Though rich, he did for us become thus poor, 
 That he might make us rich for evermore. 
 
 Nor was this but the least of what he did. 
 
 But the outside of what he suffered P 
 God made his blessed son under the law, 
 
 Under the curse, which, like the lion’s paw, 
 
 Did rent and tear his soul for mankind’s sin, 
 More than if we for it in hell had been. 
 
 His cries, his tears, and bloody agon;/. 
 
 The nature of his death doth testify. 
 
 Nor did he of constraint himself thus give, 
 
 Bor sin, to death, that man might with him live. 
 He did do what he did most willingly. 
 
 He sung, and gave God thanks, that he must die. 
 But do kings use to die for captive slaves ? 
 
 Yet we were such when Jesus died to save’s. 
 
 Yea, when he made himself a sacrifice, 
 
 It was that he might save his enemies. 
 
 And though he was provoked to retract 
 His blest resolves for such so good an act, 
 
 By the abusive carriages of those 
 
 That did both him, his love, and grace oppose; 
 
 Yet he, as unconcerned with such things, 
 
 Goes on, determines to make captives kings; 
 
 Yea, many of his murderers he takes 
 Into his favour, and them princes makes. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 ON TIIE CACKLING OF A TIEN. 
 
 The hen, so soon as she an egg doth lay, 
 
 (Spreads the fame of her doing what she may.) 
 
 About the yard she cackling now doth go. 
 
 To tell what ’twas she at her nest did do. 
 
 Just thus it is with some professing men. 
 
 If they do ought that good is, like our hen 
 They can but cackle on’t where e’er they go, 
 
 What their right hand doth their left hand must know. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 UrON A SNAIL. 
 
 She goes but softly, but she goeth sure. 
 
 Sue stumbles not, as stronger creatures do. 
 
 Her journey’s shorter, so she may endure 
 Better than they which do much farther go. 
 
 She makes no noise, but stilly seizeth on 
 The flower or herb appointed for her food. 
 
 The which she quietly doth feed upon 
 
 While others range and glare, but find no good. 
 
 And though she doth but very softly go, 
 
 However, ’tis not fast nor slow, but sure; 
 
 And certainly they that do travel so, 
 
 The prize they do aim at they do procure. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 Although they seem not much to stir, less go, 
 
 Bor Christ that hunger, or from wrath that flee. 
 
 Yet what they seek for quickly they come to. 
 Though it doth seem the farthest off to be. 
 
 One act of faith doth bring them to that flower 
 They so long for, that they may eat and live. 
 
 Which, to attain, is not in others power. 
 
 Though for it- a king’s ransom they would give. 
 
 Then let none faint, nor be at all dismayed 
 That life by Christ do seek, they shall not fail 
 
 To have it; let them nothing be afraid; 
 
 The herb and flower are eaten by the snail. 1 
 
 XLIY. 
 
 OF THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST. 
 
 Who’s this that cometh from the wilderness, 
 
 Like smoky pillars thus perfum’d with myrrh, 
 
 1 If the crawling snail finds food, wherefore do ye doubt. 
 
 0! ye of little faith.—(E d.) 
 
 xlii. 
 
 UPON AN HOUR-GLASS. 
 
 This glass, when made, was, by the workman’s skill. 
 The sum of sixty minutes to f ulfil . 
 
 Time, more nor less, by it will out be spun. 
 
 But just an hour, and then the glass is run. 
 
 Man’s life we will compare unto this glass, 
 
 The number of his months he cannot pass; 
 
 But when he has accomplished his day, 
 
 He, like a vapour, vanisheth away. 
 
A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 7 C1 
 
 Leaning upon her dearest in distress, 
 
 Led into’s bosom by the Comforter ? 
 
 Sbe s clothed with the sun, crowned with twelve 
 stars, 
 
 The spotted moon her footstool she hath made. 
 The dragon her assaults, fills her with jars, 
 let rests she under her Beloved’s shade, 
 
 But whence w as she ? what is her pedigree ? 
 
 YY as not her father a poor Amorite ? 
 
 TY hat w r as her mother but as others be, 
 
 A poor, a wretched, and a sinful Hittite. 
 
 Yea, as for her, the day that she was born, 
 
 As loathsome, out of doors they did her cast; 
 Naked and filthy, stinking and forlorn; 
 
 This was her pedigree from first to last. 
 
 Nor was she pitied in this estate, 
 
 All let her lie polluted in her blood: 
 
 None her condition did commiserate. 
 
 There was no heart that sought to do her good. 
 Yet she unto these ornaments is come. 
 
 Her breasts are fashioned, her hair is grown; 
 
 She is made heiress of the best kingdom ; 
 
 All her indignities away are blown. 
 
 Cast out she was, but now she home is taken, 
 
 Naked (sometimes), but now, you see, she’s cloth’d; 
 Now made the darling, though before forsaken. 
 Barefoot, but now as princes’ daughters shod. 
 Instead of filth, she now has her perfumes ; 
 
 Instead of ignominy, her chains of gold : 
 
 Instead of what the beauty most consumes, 
 
 Her beauty’s perfect, lovely to behold. 
 
 Those that attend and wait upon her be 
 Princes of honour, clothed in wliite array; 
 
 Upon her head’s a crown of gold, and she 
 Eats wheat, honey, and oil, from day to day. 
 
 For her beloved, he’s the high’st of all. 
 
 The only Potentate, the King of kings: 
 
 Angels and men do him Jehovah call, 
 
 And from him life and glory always springs. 
 
 He’s white and ruddy, and of all the chief: 
 
 His head, his locks, his eyes, his hands, and feet, 
 Ho, for completeness, out-go all belief; 
 
 His cheeks like flowers are, his mouth most 
 sweet. 
 
 As for his wealth, he is made heir of all; 
 
 What is in heaven, what is on earth is his: 
 
 And he this lady his joint-heir doth call. 
 
 Of all that shall be, or at present is. 
 
 Well, lady, -well, God has been good to thee; 
 
 Thou of an outcast, now art made a queen. 
 
 Few, or none, may with thee compared be, 
 
 A beggar made thus high is seldom seen. 
 
 Take heed of pride, remember what thou art 
 By nature, though thou hast in grace a share, 
 
 Ihou in thyself dost yet retain a part 
 
 Of thine own filthiness; wherefore beware. 
 
 VOL. 111. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 UPON A SKILFUL PLATEII ON AN INSTRUMENT. 
 
 He that can play well on an instrument, 
 
 Will take the ear, and captivate the mind 
 With mirth or sadness; for that it is bent 
 Thereto, as music in it place doth find. 
 
 But if one hears that hath therein no skill, 
 
 (As often music lights of such a chance) 
 
 Of its brave notes they soon be weary will: 
 
 And there are some can neither sing nor dance. 
 
 Comparison . 
 
 Unto him that thus skilfully doth play, 
 
 God doth compare a gospel-minister, 
 
 That rightly preacheth, and doth godly pray, 
 Applying truly what doth thence infer. 
 
 This man, whether of wrath or grace he preacli, 
 
 So skilfully doth handle every word; 
 
 And by his saying doth the heart so reach, 
 
 That it doth joy or sigh before the Lord. 
 
 But some there be, which, as the brute, doth lie 
 Under the Word, without the least advance 
 Godward ; such do despise the ministry; 
 
 They weep not at it, neither to it dance. 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 OF MAN BY NATURE. 
 
 From God he’s a backslider. 
 
 Of ways he loves the wider; 
 
 With wickedness a sider, 
 
 More venom than a spider. 
 
 In sin he’s a considerer, 
 
 A make-bate and divider; 
 
 Blind reason is his guider. 
 
 The devil is his rider. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 UPON THE DISOBEDIENT CHILD. 
 
 Children become, while little, our delights ! 
 
 When they grow bigger, they begin to fright’s. 
 Their sinful nature prompts them to rebel, 
 
 And to delight in paths that lead to hell. 
 
 Their parents’ love and care they overlook. 
 
 As if relation had them quite forsook. 
 
 They take the counsels of the wanton’s, rather 
 Than the most grave instructions of a father. 
 
 They reckon parents ought to do for them. 
 
 Though they the fifth commandment do contemn; 
 They snap and snarl if parents them control, 
 
 Though but in things most hurtful to the soul. 
 
 They reckon they are masters, and that we 
 Who parents are, should to them subject be! 
 
 96 
 
762 
 
 A BOOK FOB, BOYS AND GIRLS. 
 
 If parents fain would have a hand in choosing, 
 
 The children have a heart will in refusing. 
 
 They’ll by wrong doings, under parents gather, 
 
 And say it is no sin to rob a father. 
 
 They’ll jostle parents out of place and power, 
 They’ll make themselves the head, and them devour, 
 How many children, by becoming head, 
 
 Have brought their parents to a piece of bread! 
 Thus they who, at the first, were parents’ joy, 
 
 Turn that to bitterness, themselves destroy. 
 
 But, wretched child, how canst thou thus requite 
 Thy aged parents, for that great delight 
 They took in thee, when thou, as helpless, lay 
 In their indulgent bosoms day by day ? 
 
 Thy mother, long before she brought thee forth, 
 Took care thou shouldst want neither food nor cloth. 
 Thy father glad was at his very heart. 
 
 Had he to thee a portion to impart. 
 
 Comfort they promised themselves in thee, 
 
 But thou, it seems, to them a grief wilt be. 
 
 How oft, how willingly brake they their sleep. 
 
 If thou, their bantling, didst but winch or weep. 
 Their love to thee was such they could have giv’n, 
 That thou mightst live, almost their part of heav’n. 
 But now, behold how they rewarded are ! 
 
 For their indulgent love and tender care; 
 
 All is forgot, this love he doth despise. 
 
 They brought this bird up to pick out then - eyes. 
 
 XL VIII. 
 
 UPON A SHEET OF WHITE PAPER. 
 
 This subject is unto the foulest pen, 
 
 Or fairest handled by the sons of men. 
 
 ’Twill also show what is upon it writ. 
 
 Be it wisely, or nonsense for want of wit, 
 
 Each blot and blur it also will expose 
 To thy next readers, be they friends or foes. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 Some souls are like unto this blank or sheet, 
 Though not in whiteness. The next man they meet. 
 If wise or fool, debauched or deluder, 
 
 Or what you will, the dangerous intruder 
 May write thereon, to cause that man to err 
 In doctrine or in life, with blot and blur. 
 
 Nor will that soul conceal from who observes. 
 
 But show how foul it is, wherein it swerves. 
 
 A reading man may know who was the writer, 
 
 And, by the hellish nonsense, the inditer. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 UPON FIRE. 
 
 Who falls into the fire shall burn with heat; 
 While those remote scorn from it to retreat. 
 
 Yea, while those in it, cry out, 0 ! I burn, 
 
 Some farther off those cries to laughter turn. 
 
 Comparison. 
 
 While some tormented are in hell for sin; 
 
 On earth some greatly do delight therein. 
 
 Yea, while some make it echo with Vheir cry. 
 Others count it a fable and a lie. 1 
 
 1 Fools mnke a mock at sin. The scorner occupies a proud, 
 au elevated seat, which will sink under him, and crush him 
 down to everlasting destruction. The threatenings and pro¬ 
 mises of God stand sure for ever.— (Ed.) 
 
THE STRUGGLER; 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER IN WHICH MR. BUNYAN’S BOOKS WERE PUBLISHED, AND THE 
 NUMBER OF EDITIONS THEY PASSED THROUGH DURING HIS LIFE. 
 
 thirty- reasons war Christian people should promote their circulation, and the struggler for the 
 
 PRESERVATION OP THESE LABOURS.—PUBLISHED IN 1691. 
 
 liY CHARLES DOE, one op Mr. Bunyan’s personal friends. 
 
 A CATALOGUE-TABLE OF MR. BUNYAN'S BOOKS. 
 
 AND 
 
 THEIR SUCCESSION IN PUBLISHING, MOST ACCORDING TO HIS OWN RECKONING. 
 
 K T o- 
 
 rE. Those that are in Italic letter are them that compose the 
 
 for a second f 
 
 1 
 
 Gospel truths opened, 
 
 1656 
 
 31 
 
 2 
 
 A vindication of that . [sm. 4to] 
 
 1657 
 
 32 
 
 3 
 
 Sighs from Hell (9 Impressions), 
 
 [1650] 
 
 33 
 
 4 
 
 The 2 Covenants Law and Grace, 
 
 
 34 
 
 5 
 
 I will pray with the Spirit, 
 
 1663 
 
 35 
 
 6 
 
 A map of salvation, &c., [A broadside] 
 
 
 36 
 
 7 
 
 The four last things (3 Impressions), 
 
 
 37 
 
 8 
 
 Mount Ehal and Gerizim, 
 
 
 38 
 
 9 
 
 Prison Meditations, 
 
 
 39 
 
 10 
 
 The Holy City , &c., . 
 
 1665 
 
 40 
 
 11 
 
 The Resurrection, &c., ... 
 
 1665 
 
 41 
 
 12 
 
 Grace Abounding (6 Impressions), . 
 
 [1666] 
 
 42 
 
 13 
 
 Justification by Jesus Christ, [sm. 4to] 
 
 1671 
 
 43 
 
 14 
 
 Confession of Faith, &c., 
 
 77 * • 
 
 1672 
 
 44 
 
 15 
 
 Difference in Judgment, &c., . 
 
 1673 
 
 45 
 
 16 
 
 Peaceable principles, &c., 
 
 1674 
 
 46 
 
 17 
 
 Election and Reprobation, &c., [sm. 4to] 
 
 
 47 
 
 18 
 
 Light for them in Darkness, 
 
 
 48 
 
 19 
 
 Christian Behaviour (4 Impressions), 
 
 
 49 
 
 20 
 
 Instructions for the Ignorant, 
 
 1675 
 
 50 . 
 
 21 
 
 Saved by Grace, 
 
 
 51 L 
 
 22 
 
 The Strait-Gate, . 
 
 1676 
 
 52 
 
 23 
 
 The Pilgrim’s Progress (12 Impressions), 
 
 [1678] 
 
 53 1 
 
 24 
 
 The Fear of God,. 
 
 1679 
 
 541 1 
 
 25 
 
 Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ (4 Impress.) 
 
 
 55 1 
 
 26 
 
 The Holy War (3 Impressions), 
 
 1682 
 
 56 ; 
 
 27 
 
 The Barren Fig Tree, .... 
 
 
 57 $ 
 
 
 The Greatness of the Soul, &c., 
 
 [1683] 
 
 58 {j 
 
 
 A Case of Conscience of prayer, [sm. 4 to] 
 
 [1683] 
 
 59 % 
 
 
 Advice to Sufferers, . 
 
 1684 
 
 60 2 
 
 [a sheet] 
 
 The 2d pt. Pilgrim’s Progress (3 Imp.), 
 Life and Death of Mr. Badman,f 
 Holy Life the beauty of Christianity, 
 The Pharisee and Publican, 
 
 A caution against Sin, 
 
 Meditations on 74 things, 
 
 The first-day Sabbath, 
 
 The Jerusalem Sinner Saved, 
 
 Jesus Christ an advocate, , 
 
 The House of God, . 
 
 The Water of Life, 
 
 Solomon’s Temple Spiritualized 
 The Excell, of a broken heart, 
 
 His last Sermon at London, 
 
 / 
 
 Of the Trinity and a Christian, 
 
 [1684] 
 
 [1680] 
 
 1685 
 
 [1684] 
 
 1685 
 
 1688 
 
 1688 
 
 1688 
 
 1688 
 
 [1688] 
 
 [1689] 
 
 1688 
 
 12 Manuscripts 
 part of the 
 first folio. 
 
 1692 
 
 ■1 Manuscripts 
 yet unprinted. 
 
 Here s sixty pieces of his labours, and lie was sixty years of age. 
 
 , rm , ? 7“ b0r " fj E,sl0W ' n « h Bedford . about 1628. And about 1652 was, by irresistible grace, converted : and in 
 
 offite« Belfort ^ 7" then ’, f ° r that ’ lhr0 '™ in “> Bedford G »a' i and in 1671 was called to the pastoral 
 
 office at Bedford, bemgthe 11th of his twelve years and an half’s imprisonment; and died at London, Aug. 31, 1638. 
 
 [Where the date is in brackets it is supplied from original copies in the Editor’s possession.] 
 
 + !“ heS C0 P>' ri ?ht prevented this second volume from bein'? published —See Editor’s Pri-va™ 
 
 **'?**£• r "" le Wa ' l ' k l in *he oattor’. pois'cMion', and a flue cop;, without the cut., 
 
 “Tie ss* Swh srs ■■ t,,e ,r mi p n "a™ 1 ""uXtf’xi.fe is not - » 
 
 • “** “MSSt, from Mr. ^ V C. Die, 
 
764 
 
 THE STRUGGLE!!. 
 
 REASONS 
 
 WHY CHRISTIAN PEOPLE SHOULD PROMOTE BY SUBSCRIPTIONS THE PRINTING IN FOLIO THE LABOURS OP 
 MR. JOHN BUNYAN, LATE MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL, AND PASTOR OF THE CONGREGATION AT BEDFORD. 
 
 I. He was a very able and excellent minister of the 
 gospel; viz., able to express himself, and had excellent? 
 matter known to all Christians that have heard him 
 preach. 
 
 II. He became thus able and excellent a minister by 
 a great degree of Gospel Grace bestowed upon his own 
 soul, more than probable for that very end; for that 
 God wrought him from a very great profane sinner, and 
 an illiterate poor man, to this profound understanding 
 the true or genuine spiritual meaning of the Scriptures, 
 whereby he could experimentally preach to souls with 
 power, and affection, and apostolical learning, the true 
 nature of the gospel. 
 
 III. God’s bestowing such great grace, to turn so 
 great a sinner, to make such a great gospel labourer, 
 and thrust him into his harvest, argues there was great 
 need, and therefore without question his labours ought 
 to be preserved. 
 
 IV. Our Bunyan being so graciously, by the Lord 
 of the harvest, thrust into labour, clearly shows to us, 
 (and may by this preservation to future ages), that God 
 is not bound to human means of learned education 
 (though learning may be useful in its place), but can, 
 when he will, make a minister of the gospel without 
 man’s forecast of education, and in spite of all the men 
 in the world that would oppose it, though it be above 
 sixteen hundred years after the apostles. 
 
 V. Many thousands had the soul benefit and comfort 
 of his ministry to astonishment, as if an angel or an 
 apostle had touched their souls with a coal of holy fire 
 from the altar. 
 
 VI. This excellent operation of the special grace of 
 God in him, and the gift of utterance when he preached, 
 confounded the wisdom of his adversaries that heard 
 him, or heard of him, he being, as it is commonly called, 
 unlearned, or had not school education. 
 
 VII. For all these reasons before-mentioned, of the 
 spirituality of his preaching, his labours in writing de¬ 
 serve preservation by printing as much as any other 
 famous man’s that have writ since the apostles’ time. 
 
 VIII. Moreover he hath been a Christian sufferer 
 for above twelve years, by imprisonment, whereby he 
 sealed to the truth he preached. 
 
 IX. Yet, for all that imprisonment, he preached then, 
 and there, and afterwards abroad, as a faithful labourer 
 for the salvation of souls. 
 
 X. And he was not a man that preached by way of 
 bargain for money, for he hath refused a more plentiful 
 income to keep his station. 
 
 XI. And his moderation, or desire of money, was as 
 the apostle Paul’s practice, below his privilege; so that 
 he did not, when he died, leave much wealth to his 
 family. 
 
 XII. And the Church that wants such a pastor may 
 
 find it long before they get one, and therefore ought to 
 respect our Bunyan’s labours 
 
 XIII. If God had not put it into the heart of some 
 Christians or Church to preserve the Epistles of the 
 Apostle to the Romans, Corinthians, Galatians, and 
 others, we in this age of the world .should in all pro¬ 
 bability never have known that there ever were any 
 such Christians and doctrines; their names and doctrines 
 might have been lost, and we might have perished, and 
 that would have been dreadful; for God mostly works 
 by second causes. 
 
 XIV. And why should any Christian people, that 
 have reason to reckon themselves obliged herein, set 
 themselves aside from communicating to other Chris¬ 
 tians and the ages to come the gospel labours of so 
 eminent a minister as God so graciously honoured and 
 assisted them with ? 
 
 XV. And if these labours (of, as I may say, an 
 apostle of our age, if we have any) are not preserved 
 by printing thus in folio, most of them in all probability 
 will be lost, for there are many of them have been out 
 of print many years, and will never otherwise be printed 
 again because of the charge, &c. 
 
 XVI. By the late xlct for liberty of conscience, it is 
 lawful now to print the works of dissenters, though it 
 was not so formerly; therefore much danger cannot 
 plead excuse. 
 
 XVII. It is a good work without controversy, and 
 therefore there can be no scruple of conscience about 
 its pleasing God. 
 
 XVIII. There is also to the subscribers a further 
 benefit in this folio; for, whereas these twenty books 
 would, if bought single, cost nigh twenty shillings 
 now, as printed in folio they will have them for about 
 twelve shillings bound together in one volume, which 
 conveniency also prevents losing. 
 
 XIX. These ten manuscripts, which were never 
 before printed, would, if printed in small books, and 
 bought single, cost almost the money that these 
 twenty in folio comes for, which is great odds. 
 
 XX. Not to preserve his labours and name, which 
 are so great, is a disingenuous slighting or despising 
 them, and serving them no better than a wicked man’s 
 that rots. Bunyan hath preached, and freely bestowed 
 many a good and gospel-truth, and soul-reviving ex¬ 
 pression; for which of them doth any of his friends 
 slight him ? Nay, do not they rather owe him some¬ 
 thing for his. labour he bestowed on them, as Philemon 
 did to Paul? 
 
 XXI. The price of the first part will be an easier 
 purchase than of the whole; and all in one volume 
 would be somewhat too big in bulk and price. 
 
 XXII. There is need of printing these books now, 
 because errors and superstitions, like the smoke of the 
 
TIIE STRUGGLED 
 
 765 
 
 bottomless pit, darken protestants understanding the 
 purer truths of the gospel. 
 
 XXIII. And when this first part is sold off, we shall 
 endeavour to publish a second part, whereby he that 
 is willing may have the whole in folio. 
 
 XXIV. This preservation will preserve the name of 
 John Bunyan, a champion of our age to future ages ; 
 whereby it may be said in the pulpit. The great convert 
 Bunyan said so and so. 
 
 XXY. If the labours of so eminent a minister should 
 not be preserved, I know not whose should. 
 
 XXVI. Antichristian people are diligent to preserve 
 the works of their eminent men; and therefore Chris¬ 
 tians should be diligent to preserve theirs. 
 
 XXVII. The chief reasons we argue from are not 
 common rules, that therefore every good minister’s 
 endeavours ought to be printed in folio. But this case 
 is extraordinary, as an eminent minister, made so by 
 abundance of gospel grace, who has also writ much, 
 which hath gone off well. I say eminent, though he 
 was, when young, profane, and had not school educa¬ 
 tion to enable him, as is apparent to all that knew him. 
 
 THE STI 
 
 (FOR THE PRECEDING PRESERVATION OF MR. JOI 
 ANSWER ins DESIRES OF MANY TO 
 
 Christian Header, 
 
 I do here as a further duty presume to give you, 
 according to my understanding, a relation in three parts, 
 concerning our eminent author, Mr. John Bunyan, and 
 his labours. 
 
 I. The author’s parentage, imprisonment, times, and 
 manner of his life and death, &c. 
 
 II. Relations and observations upon his labours, &c. 
 
 III. Notes on printing this folio and index, &c. 
 
 first. Our excellent author, by the abundant grace 
 
 of God, Mr. John Bunyan, was born at Elstow, a mile 
 side of Bedford, about the year 1628. His father was 
 mean, and by trade a mender of pots and kettles, vul¬ 
 garly called a tinker, and of the national religion, as 
 commonly men of that trade are, and was brought up 
 to the tinkering trade, as also were several of his 
 , w brothers, whereat he worked about that 
 
 i As doth appear * 
 
 by his book of country, 1 being also very profane and poor, 
 
 his conversion, , • , o 
 
 intituled,Grace even when married, &c. 
 
 Abounding, &c. ft pl ease d God, by h{ s irresistible 
 
 grace, to work in him some convictious and fears of 
 hell, and also desires of heaven, which drove him to 
 reading and hearing of religious matters, so, controlling 
 grace growing abundantly, he did not take up religion 
 upon trust, but grace in him continually struggling with 
 himself and others, took all advantages he lit on to 
 ripen his understanding in religion, and so he lit on 
 the dissenting congregation of Christians at Bedford, 
 and was, upon confession of faith, baptized about the 
 year 1651, or 52, or 53. 
 
 XXVIII. By this printing in folio a man may have 
 recourse for satisfaction in a case of conscience to any 
 of these particular books with the rest, which otherwise 
 are not to be bought; and that I have proved by often 
 trying most London booksellers, and before that giveD 
 them above twice the price for a book; and I know 
 not how to get another of those sorts for any price 
 whatsoever. 
 
 XXIX. All these things, or half of them, beside 
 many others that might be given, being considered, I 
 cannot see but it is an absolute duty. 
 
 XXX. And lastly (pardon me, if I speak too great a 
 word, as it may seem to some to be borne), all things 
 considered; that is, his own former profaneness, poverty, 
 unlearnedness, together with his great natural parts, 
 the great change made by grace, and his long imprison¬ 
 ment, and the great maturity in grace and preaching he 
 attained to, I say our deceased Bunyan hath not left 
 in England, or the world, his equal behind him, as I 
 know of. And this is the unfeigned belief of. 
 
 Your Christian brother, 
 
 Charles Doe. 
 
 HGGLER 
 
 N BUNYAN’S. LABOURS IN FOLIO) thinks it MAY 
 GIVE THE FOLLOWING RELATION :- 
 
 And after a little time, having a gift of utterance, 
 and love to the conviction of sinners, preached about 
 the country the same salvation he found by experience 
 himself stood in need of, by faith and repentance, and 
 worked at his tinkering trade for a livelihood, whereby 
 the reigning grace of God appeared the more sovereign 
 and glorioug in this choice, even as it shone in the 
 choice of Peter, a fisherman, and the rest of the 
 apostles, and others of the eminent saints of old, most 
 of them tradesmen, and of whom most excellent things 
 are spoken, &c. 
 
 In the year 1660, being the year king Charles re¬ 
 turned to Enorland, having preached about 
 _ „ ?, C , . 2 As in his hook 
 
 2 five years, the rage ot gospel enemies intituled, Grace 
 
 was so great that, November 12, they 3 1 1, 9 ° un,lill& 8 * 
 took him prisoner at a meeting of good 
 people, and put him in Bedford jail, and there he con¬ 
 tinued about six years, and then was let out again, 
 1666, being the year of the burning of London, and, a 
 little after his release, they took him again at a meeting, 
 and put him in the same jail, where he lay six years 
 more. 3 Before they took him his intent a As he says in 
 was to preach on these words, * Dost thou confession 
 believe on the Son of God?’ Jn. ix. 35. of Faith. ‘ 
 From whence he intended to show the absolute need 
 of faith in Jesus Christ. And after he was released 
 again, they took him again, and put him in prison the 
 third time, but that proved but for about half a year. 
 
 Whilst he was thus twelve years and a half in 
 prison, he writ several of his published books, as by 
 
766 
 
 THE STRUGGLED 
 
 
 many of their epistles appears, as c Pray by the Spirit/ 
 * Holy City/ ‘Resurrection/ ‘Grace Abounding/ and 
 others, also ‘The Pilgrim’s Progress/ as himself and 
 many others have said. 
 
 The pastor of Bedford congregation died, and, after 
 some years vacancy, John Bunyan, though a prisoner, 
 vras, by the church, called to the pastoral office, De¬ 
 cember 21, 1671, and as it pleased the Lord to rule 
 the rage of men, it proved in or about the last year of 
 his twelve years’ imprisonment. And, being out, he 
 preached the gospel publicly at Bedford, and about the 
 counties, and at London, with very great success, being 
 mightily followed everywhere. And it pleased the Lord 
 to preserve him out of the hands of his enemies in the 
 severe persecution at the latter end of king Charles the 
 Second’s reign, though they often searched and laid 
 wait for him, and sometimes narrowly missed him. 
 
 .In 1688, he published six books, being the time of 
 king James the Second s liberty of conscience, and was 
 seized with a sweating distemper, which, after his some 
 weeks going about, proved his death, at his very loving 
 friend’s, Mr. Strudwick’s, a grocer, at Holborn Bridge, 
 London, on August 31, 1688, and in the 60th year°of 
 his age, and was buried in Finsbury burying-ground, 
 where many London dissenting ministers are laid; and 
 it proved some days above a month before our great 
 gospel deliverance was begun by the Prince of Orange’s 
 landing, whom the Lord of his continued blessing hath 
 since made our preserving king, William the Third. 
 
 And as to his family, he left his widow, Elizabeth, 
 and three sons, John, Thomas, and Joseph, and three 
 daughteis, Elizabeth, Sarah, and Mary; but his blind 
 daughter he writes of in his ‘ Grace Abounding ’ died 
 some years before him, and his widow died 1690-1. 
 
 Secondly, Concerning his labours; God did give of 
 his extraordinary grace of the gospel to our author, 
 Bunyan, and it is worthy our observation* for thereby 
 God may have due honour, his people comfort, and ad¬ 
 versaries confuted in their several corrupt notions, 
 especially that of only them that have school education 
 aie fitly qualified tor ministers of the glorious gospel 
 of Jesus Christ. And also hereby the superstitious 
 man is confounded in his way of worship, as were his 
 predecessors, the rulers of the Jews, in the case of 
 Peter and John, saying, Whence had these men this 
 knowledge, seeing they are unlearned? but there was 
 
 and is a reason beyond their false rules of education_ 
 
 for they had been with Jesus. 
 
 This is also apt to convince sincere-hearted Christians 
 that God can, when he will, make a minister of his 
 gospel, and send him forth in the power of his Spirit, 
 and defend him, nay, may I say, it is God’s prerogative 
 to make his gospel-ministers, and he makes them 
 effectual to all the ends of his gospel, to preach, as the 
 great apostle saith, in season and out of season, to abase 
 and.abound, &c. He that can make the dry bones live 
 (as in Eze. xxxvii.), what can he not do? yea, they shall 
 live, and become a great host, and antichristian arts 
 must fall;, for the Lord doth make his servants, as he 
 aid Jeremiah, as brazen walls against people and priests. 
 
 And however some subtilly and vain-gloriously pre¬ 
 tend to be the only lawful successors of the apostles, 
 yet certain I am, from safer reasons of faith, that our 
 author Bunyan was really, sincerely, and effectually a 
 lawful successor of the apostles, and as lawful as any 
 have been above this thousand years. Nay, may I say, 
 he was a second Paul; for that his conversion was in a 
 great measure like that great apostle’s, who, of a great 
 enemy to godliness, was, by strong and irresistible 
 workings of sovereign grace, made a great minister of, 
 and sufferer for, the gospel. Thousands of Christians 
 in country and city, can testify that their comfort under 
 his ministry has been to admiration, so that their joy 
 hath showed itself by much weeping. 
 
 To the eye of carnal reason it may seem that the 
 great apostle Paul’s imprisonment was a contradiction 
 to his commission of effectually preaching the gospel to 
 many countries; especially considering his commission 
 was strengthened by his miraculous conversion, from 
 the glory and call of the Lord Jesus from heaven, for 
 the making of him such a great gospel preacher. And 
 yet God suffered it so to be, and we have reason to be¬ 
 lieve for the best; because God usually works those 
 seeming contrary things to his own end and glory. 
 And the effect was, the saints were strengthened there¬ 
 by, and several epistles were written thereby, which 
 hath preserved much of the gospel in writing to the 
 ages after, and even for our very great and needful 
 help. 
 
 And I reckon I shall not be out of the way, if I ob¬ 
 serve and say—What hath the devil or his agents gotten 
 by putting our great gospel-minister, Bunyan, in prison? 
 for in prison, as before mentioned, he wrote many ex¬ 
 cellent books, that have published to the world his great 
 grace, and great truth, and great judgment, and great in¬ 
 genuity; and to instance in one, the Pilgrim’s Progress , 
 he hath suited to the life of atraveller so exactly and plea¬ 
 santly, and to the life of a Christian, that this very book, 
 besides the rest, hath done the superstitious sort of 
 men and their practice more harm, or rather good, as I 
 may call it, than if he had been let alone at his meeting 
 at Bedford, to preach the gospel to his own auditory, 
 as it might have fallen out; for none but priest-ridden 
 people know how to cavil at it, it wins so smoothly 
 upon their affections, and so insensibly distils the gos¬ 
 pel into them, and hath been printed in Erance, Holland, 
 New England, and in Welsh, and about a hundred 
 thousand in England, whereby they are made some 
 means of grace, and the author become famous; and 
 may be the cause of spreading his other gospel-books 
 over the European and American world, and in process 
 of time may be so to the whole universe. 
 
 When Mr. Bunyan preached in London, if there 
 were but one day’s notice given, there would be more 
 people come together to hear him preach than the 
 meeting-house would hold. I have seen to hear him 
 preach, by my computation, about twelve hundred at a 
 morning lecture, by seven o’clock, on a working day, in 
 the dark winter time. I also computed about three 
 thousand that came to hear him one Lord’s-day, at Lon- 
 
THE STRUGGLE!*. 
 
 767 
 
 don, at a town’s end meeting-house; so that half were 
 fain to go back again for want of room, and then him¬ 
 self was fain, at a back door, to be pulled almost over 
 people to get upstairs to his pulpit. 
 
 Mr. Bunyan's dispute with a scholar to this effect. 
 
 As Mr. Bunyan was upon the road near Cambridge, 
 there overtakes him a scholar that had observed him a 
 preacher, and said to him, How dare you preach, seeing 
 you have not the original, being not a scholar? 
 
 Then said Mr. Bunyan, Have you the original ? 
 
 Yes, said the scholar. 
 
 Nay, but, said Mr. Bunyan, have you the very self¬ 
 same original copies that were written by the penmen 
 of the scriptures, prophets and apostles ? 
 
 No, said the scholar, but we have the true copies of 
 those originals. 
 
 How do you know that ? said Mr. Bunyan. 
 
 How ? said the scholar. Why, we believe what we 
 have is a true copy of the original. 
 
 Then, said Mr. Bunyan, so do I believe our English 
 Bible is a true copy of the original. 
 
 Then away rid the scholar. 
 
 Another dispute with a scholar. 
 
 As Mr. Bunyan was preaching in a barn, and show¬ 
 ing the fewness of those that should be saved, there 
 stood one of the learned to take advantage of his 
 words ; and having done preaching, the schoolman said 
 to him, You are a deceiver, a person of no charity, and 
 therefore not fit to preach; for he that in effect con- 
 demneth the greatest part of his hearers hath no cha¬ 
 rity, and therefore not fit to preach. 
 
 Then Mr. Bunyan answered—The Lord Jesus Christ 
 preached in a ship to his hearers on the shore, Mat. xiii.; 
 
 and showed that they were as four sorts of ground_ 
 
 The high-way. The stony. The Thorny, and The good 
 ground ; whereof the good ground was the only per¬ 
 sons to be saved. 
 
 And your position is—That he that in effect con- 
 demneth the greatest part of his hearers hath no charity, 
 and therefore not fit to preach the gospel. 
 
 But here the Lord Jesus Christ did so; then your 
 conclusion is—The Lord Jesus Christ wanted charity, 
 and therefore not fit to preach the gospel. 
 
 Horrid blasphemy; away with your hellish logic, and 
 speak Scripture. 
 
 Then replied the learned: ’Tis blasphemy to call 
 logic hellish, which is our reason—the gift of God; for 
 that which distinguished a man from a beast is the 
 gift of God. 
 
 But Mr. Bunyan replied: Sin doth distinguish a man 
 from a beast; is sin therefore the gift of God ? &c. 
 
 They parted. 
 
 I once asked him his opinion in a common religious 
 point, and offered some arguments to prove my opinion 
 tor the general of it; but he answered, that where the 
 Scripture is silent we ought to forbear our opinions; 
 and so he forebore to affirm either for or against, the 
 Scripture being altogether silent in this point. 
 
 Thirdly, concerning this folio, &c. I have struggled 
 to bring about this great good work; and it had suc¬ 
 ceeded in Mr. Bunyan’s lifetime, even all his labours in 
 folio, but that an interested bookseller opposed it; and 
 notwithstanding the many discouragements I have met 
 with in my struggles in this so great a work, we have 
 —and I may believe by the blessing of the Lord—got¬ 
 ten about four hundred subscriptions, whereof about 
 thirty are ministers; which also shows the great esteem 
 our author’s labours are in among Christian people. 
 And that the reasonableness and duty of the preserva¬ 
 tion of his labours in folio, by subscription, may be con¬ 
 tinued to memory, I have also added my reasons, which 
 I distributed in my late struggles to effect this work. 
 
 His effigies was cut in copper,* from an original paint 
 done to the life, by his very good friend, a limner; and 
 those who desire it single, to put in a frame, may have 
 it at this bookseller’s—Mr. Marshal; and also the cata¬ 
 logue-table. The epistle is writ by two ministers, Mr. 
 Wilson of Hichin, in Hertfordshire, and Mr. Chandler, 
 who succeeds Mr. Bunyan at Bedford. 
 
 And Mr. Burton, that writ the epistle to Some Gos¬ 
 pel-truths Opened , being the first book Mr. Bunyan writ, 
 was minister at Bedford. 
 
 Bote .—I would not charge the following running- 
 titles upon our author, Bunyan; because they were 
 added in the proposals, for want of running titles and 
 the knowledge of them, and the copies being at Bed¬ 
 ford when the proposals were drawn up at London; 
 and also because, perhaps, he designed some other like 
 running-titles :— 
 
 Paul's departure and crown. 
 
 Israel's hope encouraged. 
 
 The saint's privilege and profit. 
 
 Christ a complete Saviour. 
 
 The saint's knowledge of Christ's love. 
 
 Of the Trinity and a Christian. 
 
 Of the La w and a Christian. 
 
 Notes upon the Index , fc.f 
 
 I did intend to print a complete table of all the texts 
 of Scriptures used in our author’s labours, that from 
 thence, looking into his book, his sense might be easily 
 found upon any text; so his labours might have been 
 also in the nature of an exposition upon the whole 
 Bible; but I have delayed till some other opportunity, 
 it may be of the next folio, and whenever it falls I in¬ 
 tend to give notice. 
 
 Because I and other subscribers, especially ministers, 
 were willing this folio should be commoded with an in¬ 
 dex, I have, as a Christian, exposed myself and made 
 one, and that without money for my labour of writing 
 it, though I confess it might have seemed some other 
 men’s duty; yet being ignorant of the man that had the 
 opportunity, and would have done it, unless paid for it, 
 
 I was necessitated to effect it; and if the bookseller had 
 
 * Alluding to the portrait published as a frontispiece to the 
 folio volume, 1692.—Ed. 
 t The Index accompanying the first folio.— Ed. 
 
768 
 
 THE STRUGGLES. 
 
 paid for it, lie would have lessened the number of 140 
 sheets of Mr. Bunyan’s labours in this folio at ten shil¬ 
 lings* Excuse this fault in me, if it be one. 
 
 X could have collected abundance more of excellent 
 matter in this table; and I have placed an Italic-lettered 
 word in every paragraph in the table, to be the guide- 
 word to the same word in the folio, which is a black- 
 lettered word in the folio, latter part; that is, those 
 books formerly printed, where the printer hath not 
 failed to make it so, and also in the manuscript, fore¬ 
 part, a guide-word to the same word under which I 
 have drawn a black line, in as many folios as opportu¬ 
 nity and time would permit me to do, because I had 
 not time and conveniency before this folio was printed 
 to mark the manuscripts for to be a black-lettered word, 
 as I had time for the formerly printed books * Also 
 note, the book, though marked, doth not always refer 
 to the table, but the table to the book, is the intent; 
 and because the word in the book doth not always,' 
 though very often, fall in alphabetical order, therefore 
 some other like word is put in its place in the table. 
 
 Also note, sometimes many principal words are in 
 one paragraph, and then, though the matter be not to 
 be found in the table by the word, that some perhaps 
 may expect, yet it may be found by another word, be¬ 
 cause several words are so united that one cannot well 
 part them; and it would be too large a table to put 
 them all in severally in alphabetical order—as soul, sin¬ 
 ner, saved, salvation, justification, Christ, God, &c. 
 
 Also note. When to the table-phrase more than one 
 number is placed, then expect not that the same black- 
 letter word is always to be found in the book to the last 
 number, aS is to the first number, but it may be some 
 other black or marked word of like meaning; as for 
 
 * This is as originally printed. Mr. Doe means, he had not 
 time to mark in the manuscript such words as the printer should 
 put in black-letter.-E d. 
 
 antichrist the black-lettered word in some places is har¬ 
 lot, and for apostles the black-letter word sometimes is 
 twelve, because the word apostle is not in that part of 
 the folio, though intended by twelve. 
 
 Also note. The phrase in the table is not always the 
 very same, word for word, in the book, because the de¬ 
 sign of the table is to give matter in short saying, as 
 veil as most commonly a complete sentence; and, there- 
 foie, they that would have Mr. Bunyan’s entire, com¬ 
 plete, and full sense of the matter, let them look out of 
 the table into the book, and there take all its connec¬ 
 tion together. Also, I have to keep the table as short 
 as I weil could; and yet, to direct well to the matter 
 in the book, placed one part of the matter under one 
 word, in alphabetical order, and another part of the 
 same matter in another following paragraph, under an¬ 
 other word in the table; so that, by finding one word 
 in the table, you may often find in the same paragraph, 
 
 in the book, before or after that word, other matter 
 thereto relating.f 
 
 I had but about two years’ acquaintance with our 
 author, and, therefore, have said but little of him, be¬ 
 cause of hastening this to the press; yet if any more 
 
 comes to my memory, I intend to put it at the end of 
 the index. 
 
 Your Christian brother, 
 
 C. D. 
 
 t The table to which Charles Doe here refers is only to twenty 
 of Mr Bunyan’s books. It is diffuse, and badly arranged. The 
 Index given with this first complete edition of all the admirable 
 works of our great pilgrim forefather, is entirely new. It is the 
 result of a careful reading of every treatise, extracting a notice of 
 such things as the editor conceived to be most deeply interesting. 
 These extracts were then arranged, in order to furnish a useful 
 index to all the works of Bunyan. It has been attended with 
 very great labour, and some delay to the publication; but no 
 sacrifice is too great, in order to render Bunyan’s works as com¬ 
 plete as possible. Gdorge Ofror. 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 [Articles marked with an asterisk refer to the Pilgrim's Progress .] 
 
 A. 
 
 Aaron's defence , a pitiful fumbling speech, ii. 435. 
 
 Abel justified by faith, i. 311. 
 
 Abraham's faith counted righteousness, i. 309. 
 
 Absolution , or the power of the keys, i. 38, and note. 
 
 Acceptable sacrifice a broken heart, i. 689. See Heart. 
 
 Adam —Legacy: a broken covenant, death, and putting out 
 the eyes of his posterity, i. 505—Hides himself, yet volun¬ 
 tarily comes forth, i. 694—A type of Christ, ii. 423—In 
 innocence inferior to a Christian, ii. 427—Ought to have 
 taught his wife, and not to have been her scholar, ii. 438 
 —Spake Hebrew, ii. 500—Bad before he ate the fruit, 
 
 ii. 651—*The first, assaults Faithful—Offers his three 
 daughters to wife—Sells his servants as slaves—Inscrip¬ 
 tion on his forehead—Gave Faithful a deadly twitch, iii. 
 118. 
 
 Adoption: By the work of the Holy Spirit, i. 352—Kingdom 
 of heaven is for the heirs, i. 877—Christ the author, i. 
 406—Sin cannot dissolve the relation of Father and Son, 
 i. 453—Poor helpless things in this world living upon 
 mercy, i. 602—Chastisements a sign of sonship, ii. 693. 
 
 Adultery and uncleanness, three signs of, ii. 568. 
 
 Advice to sufferers, or seasonable counsel, ii. 691 • 
 
 Afilictions and chastisements are from God, i. 455—Of God’s 
 people cause those who hate godliness to skip for joy, i. 
 477—And ti’ibulations, nine causes of, i. 581—For the 
 gospel’s sake, the saint’s glory, i. 725—Needful, i. 741 — 
 Governed by God as to time, number, nature, and mea¬ 
 sure, ii. 476—Purify the church, iii. 431—Comforts in 
 affliction: Have I a bad master? it is only for a short 
 time—A dirty road? only for a mile—In rags? plenty will 
 visit me soon, iii. 537. 
 
 Agony of Christ solemnly described, i. 411. 
 
 Algerius , Pomponius , an Italian martyr’s interesting letter, 
 
 iii. 530. 
 
 Almost Christian, the, rejected, iii. 290. 
 
 Alms given at weddings and funerals, an old custom, i. 594. 
 
 Anagram by Bunyan on his name, iii. 374. 
 
 Anecdote of a girl that ate tobacco-pipe heads, i. 707. 
 
 Angels of glory visit the imprisoned saints, i. 47, and note— 
 Their only peculiar joy the conversion of sinners, i. 79— 
 Carry the believer from the grave to heaven, i. 168; iii. 
 680—Wait upon the saints on their death-bed, i. 341, 742 ; 
 iii. 679—Eyes dazzled at Christ’s importunity with the sin¬ 
 ner, i. 350—Keepers of the strait gate, i. 368—Not able 
 to save sinners, i. 407—Their presence terrible, i. 439— 
 Guardians to all God’s fearers, i. 489, 470—Examples, 
 Obadiah, Job, &c., i. 479—The sight of, dreadful, i. 580— 
 *Help the pilgrims—On sight of the cross, iii. 102—When 
 entangled by the flatterer, iii. 151—At Beulah, iii. 161— 
 At the black river, iii. 162, 164, 172,240—^Heavenly 
 host welcome the pilgrims to the celestial city, iii. 165— 
 *The angel Secret visits Christiana, iii. 174—Joy when 
 Mansoul is taken; they open their windows, put out their 
 heads, and look down to see the cause of that glory, iii. 
 297—Ready to minister to the saints, iii. 479—Are up¬ 
 held and subsist by Christ, iii. 480—Different orders in 
 the hierarchy of heaven, iii. 508. 
 
 Angels, fallen —Wish to be one to torment, but not be tor¬ 
 mented, i. 6—Operates by despair, i. 9, No. 25-37—Quotes 
 Scripture, i. 13—How to distinguish, i. 18, 250, 251; iii. 
 115—Suggestions of Satan mistaken for Christian’s 
 thoughts, i. 18—Remarkable temptations of Satan, i. 19— 
 Combat with, some more than others, i. 28; iii. 113— 
 Dialogue between the devil and a great convert, i. 79— 
 His secret weapons and buffetings, i. 80—Satan’s rage 
 VOL. III. 
 
 against Christ, why? i. 95 —His maul or club, a sense of 
 sin, i. 96 —Chained so as not to follow us too fast, i. 168— 
 Has a suit with the Christian, i. 175 —Evil thoughts, Satan’s 
 suggestions, the fumes of his stinking breath, i. 210 —As¬ 
 saults the best saints, i. 214— Ever trying to get us into 
 his sieve, i. 214 —Atheistical suggestions of Satan, i. 223 — 
 Counsellors attempt to murder souls, i. 278 —Roar hideous 
 to keep us from Christ, i. 284 —That the law is the gos¬ 
 pel, i. 322 —And that ceremonies are the gospel, i. 323 —• 
 All to ruin souls, i. 370, 612; ii. 33, 132, 133, 134, 540; 
 iii. 267, 268, 287, 332, 356 —The doctrine of devils, i. 
 423 —The best antidote to Satan’s devices, i. 434 —Devil’s 
 wondrous subtilty, i. 516 —Turned against himself, i. 573 
 —Drum of Diabolus, i. 578 —A form of prayer, i. 632 — 
 To prevent prayer, i. 633 —Flatters dissembling hypocrites 
 to make fine prayers, i. 638 —Supernatural appearances 
 and shapes to gull poor mortals of life, i. 683 —Satan’s de¬ 
 vices, sharp-pointed things of that great and dogged levia¬ 
 than, ii. 5 —Metamorphoses all things, ii. 28, 32 —Dialogue 
 with the convinced sinner, ii. 37 —Devil a merciless 
 butcher of men, ii. 152 —In counterfeiting the work of 
 grace, ii. 152 —The faith of devils, ii. 152 —Especially the 
 new birth, ii. 197 —Employs his ministers as angels of 
 light to contend for forms of divine worship, ii. 436 —• 
 Enmity of Satan, how manifested, ii. 436, 437 —*Beelzo- 
 bub’s castle near the wicket-gate, iii. 96, 181 —* Satan 
 cannot destroy grace, iii. 100—■*Apollyon tempts Chris¬ 
 tian, iii. Ill—They fight, iii. 113 —Christian conquers, and 
 Satan flies away for a season, iii. 113, 120-206 —Chief 
 lord of Vanity Fair, tempts Christ, iii. 127 —His dog frights 
 pilgrims from worse to better, iii. 181 —His gai’den and 
 its poisonous fruits, iii. 182, 201, 228 —Their fall, iii. 256 
 —Diabolus, king of the blacks, assails Mansoul, iii. 256 — 
 Was their fall after the creation of man? iii. 257, note— 
 Beelzebub one of Diabolus’s mighty giants, iii. 257 —Alecto 
 and Apollyon fierce lords of Diabolus, iii. 257 —Lucifer, 
 his advice for taking Mansoul, iii. 257 —Dialogue and con¬ 
 spiracy, iii. 257 —Tisiphone, a fury of the lake, kills Cap¬ 
 tain Resistance, iii. 259 —Rhetoric and flattery, iii. 262- 
 Keeps the Bible from Mansoul, iii. 266 —Armour for sin¬ 
 ners, presumption, hardness of heart, a blasphemous tongue, 
 unbelief, and a prayerless spirit, iii. 268 —Offers to set up 
 a sufficient ministry and lecturers in Mansoul at his own 
 cost, iii. 293 —Epistolary correspondence between Satan 
 and Mansoul, iii. 331, 333, 337—Infernal conference or 
 dialogue of devils, iii. 331, 335, 356 —Swearing by Saint 
 Mary, iii. 335 —Furies of hell, their names, iii. 343 — 
 Devils stand by the death-bed of sinners, ready to scramble 
 for their souls, iii. 379, 585, 613 —Angel of the bottom¬ 
 less pit the father of Antichristianism, iii. 524 —Baits to 
 catch souls, iii. 608— Riding the wicked off their legs, iii. 
 618 —Prayed to by a wicked man when dying, iii. 661 — 
 Death with his merciless paw seizeth thee, the devils 
 scramble for thee, and hell swallows thee up, iii. 6b2 - 
 Devils and their work, iii. 735. 
 
 Antichrist —Will go to bed in the sides of the pit’s mouth, 
 
 i. 237 and note—And his ruin, and the slaying of the wit¬ 
 nesses, ii. 41—A pretended friend, but real enemy, ii. 45 
 —The son of hell, several features by which he is known, 
 
 ii. 46—Christ came to destroy him, ii. 46—The church 
 first midwifed this devil into the world, ii. 46—His 
 changeable nature, ii. 47—How his soul is to be destroyed, 
 ii. 47—The ordinances of antichrist, ii. 49—Christ’s mouth 
 alone can destroy Antichrist, ii. 50—7000 pompous titles 
 to be destroyed, ii. 51—Lying legends and false miracles, 
 ii. 51—His body or church to be destroyed, and how, ii. 
 51—Antichrist’s ruin, the manner of it, ii. 54—A tenth 
 
 97 
 
770 
 
 TIIE INDEX. 
 
 part first, ii. 5o—And then the other nine parts, ii. 58— 
 Great Babel falls, ii. 57—Remarkable proofs of this down¬ 
 ward progress since Bunyan’s time; see note, ii. 57— 
 —Gradual, part after part, until all is destroyed, ii. 58— 
 Signs of its downfall, ii. 58—Spiritual and not carnal 
 weapons will be used, ii. 61—The time only known by 
 the signs, ii. 62—Near destruction when all God’s saints 
 have come out of her, ii. 62—Gradual, by God’s bout 
 hammers, ii. 70—The instruments God will use, ii. 72— 
 His unscriptural counsels and convocations, condemning 
 the Bible, setting up his church, &c., ii. 74—Takes from 
 Christ his headship over the church, ii. 75—His seven sins 
 against the Holy Ghost the causes of his ruin—Prescribes 
 divine worship, ii. 75—A beast of prey; must be de¬ 
 stroyed for his outrages and murders upon the saints, ii. 
 76 and note—Church of Antichrist pretends superiority to 
 the state, ii. 79 and note—Happiness of the saints when 
 he is destroyed, ii. 79—Hasten out of her, 0 Christian! 
 
 ii. 80—Signs of her fall, ii. 81—'*The Monster [Antichrist] 
 propounds conditions to men, iii. 227—Obeyed by those 
 who love earth better than heaven—Slew many—Taught 
 children to suck her whelps—Very rampant, but wounded 
 and. likely to die, iii. 227—Like a beautiful spring after 
 a nipping and terrible winter, iii. 409—A beast that is 
 inoon-eyed, putting darkness for light, iii. 521—His doc¬ 
 trines and traditions are the smoke of the bottomless nit 
 
 iii. 524. 1 ’ 
 
 Antinomianism —A rejection of the law as a means of justi¬ 
 fication, i. 303, 308—Christians not under the law, i. 318 
 —No believer is under the law, i. 520—But under grace, 
 i. 521. 
 
 Apocrypha not holy or canonical, i. 14. 
 
 * Apostasy, gradations in, iii. 161. 
 
 Apostolical descent: *A11 true Christians descend from Stephen 
 the martyr, iii. 218—Ignatius, Poly carp, and the martyrs, 
 Chi istian s apostolic descent from, iii. 218—Covetousness 
 makes a minister more like a dog than an apostle, iii. 473 
 —A covetous minister a descendant from Lot’s wife, and 
 not from the holy apostles, iii. 475—Doe, in his xvth 
 reason for the preservation of Bunyan’s works, calls him 
 an apostle of our age, if we have any, iii. 764—However 
 some, subtilely and vain-gloriously, pretend to’ be the only 
 lawful successors of the apostles, yet reason of faith show’s 
 our Bunyan to be sincerely and effectually a lawful suc¬ 
 cessor from Paul, iii. 766. 
 
 Apparel: The fruit of sin—Cover not one shame with an¬ 
 other by pride in fine clothes, ii. 428—Immodest, con¬ 
 demned in women, ii. 561—The wanton dress of the times 
 described, iii. 565. 
 
 *A»Won the hillDifficulty, iii. 105,194—On tlieEnchanted 
 Ground, iii. 235, 236, 237, 238. 
 
 Armorial bearings or escutcheon, Three burning thunder¬ 
 bolts The Book of the Law wide open, from whence 
 issued a flame of fire—A burning fiery furnace—A fruit¬ 
 less tree, with an axe lying at the root thereof, iii. 270— 
 
 “ The dead lion and dead bear,” iii. 318. 
 
 Armour of the Christian defensive only, iii. 526. 
 
 * Armoury at the house Beautiful, iii. 110. 
 
 Artaxerxes ’ letter to Ezra, with a commentary, ii. 42. 
 
 Articles of the Church against Bishop Fowler, ii. 332. 
 
 Ascension of Christ. See God—Christ. 
 
 Assemblies for worship, a scriptural account of, ii. 662. 
 
 Assurance: The Spirit of Christ the earnest of, ii. 136—By 
 
 faith in past experience, ii. 481. 
 
 * Atheist meets the pilgrims, iii. 152. 
 
 Atheistic doubts—Most trying, i. 50—Suggestions of Satan, 
 
 Atheists in practice, i. 771—God gives them breakfast, din¬ 
 ner, and supper, as our example, ii. 739—Wicked profes¬ 
 sors practical Atheists, iii. 627. 
 
 Atonement. See God — Christ. 
 
 Augustine, the monk, a brat of Babel, ii. 498. 
 
 sick-bed scene—Death and hell at the bedside, 
 m. 580, 585. ’ 
 
 Awakened sinners dare not approach God but by Christ, 
 i. 20o —Their condition described, i. 423 —Means of 
 awakening, ii. 111 . 
 
 B. 
 
 Babylon: Saints in Mrs. Babylon’s lap, iii. 447. 
 
 Backslider: Llis return to God, i. 223—His difficulties and 
 fears; his new sins are talking devils, threatening devils, 
 roaring devils ; they add lead to his heels, i. 224—The re¬ 
 turning backslider is a blessing, i. 224—The manner of his 
 return, i. 224—Gives a double testimony to the truth, i. 
 224—Falls in coming to Christ recovered, i. 253—Encou¬ 
 raged to return, i. 267—Invited to Christ, i. 348—How 
 brought back, i. 352—Under the law never restored, but 
 under grace is restored, i. 552, 560—May be restored, ii. 
 190— rhe church to be careful to restore runaways, ii. 589. 
 Backsliding occasions awful evils, i. 740—Awful feelings 
 when Christ makes such a madman come to himself, ii. 31 
 
 —Saints playing truant and lurking like thieves, ii. 31_ 
 
 *Four reasons for sudden backsliding, iii. 160—Four 
 downward gradations, iii. 326—An allegorical description 
 of its awful state, iii. 350—State of imminent danger, iii. 
 392—Poetically described, iii. 740. 
 
 Badman: The life and death of Mr. Badman, iii. 586_The 
 
 embodiment of facts seen or known by the author, iii. 590 
 —His relatives spread all over society, iii. 590—His pom¬ 
 pous funeral dishonourable, iii. 591—Died two deaths at 
 once, iii. 595—Has a pious father, iii. 597—A liar, pil¬ 
 ferer, and Sabbath-breaker, iii. 600—Gloried in swearing, 
 iii. 601—Apprenticed to a pious master, iii. 606—Becomes 
 a drunkard, iii. 609—Gets a new and wicked master, iii. 
 614—Enters on business, iii. 616—Hypocritical courtship, 
 iii. 618—Marriage, iii. 619—Bankrupt, and gains by it hat¬ 
 fuls of money, iii. 628—Fraudulent dealings, iii. 633— 
 His pride, atheism, infidelity, and envy, iii. 642—Hates the 
 Bible, and mocks professors, iii. 646—Drunk, and breaks 
 his leg, iii. 648—Pretended repentance, and return to sin, 
 iii. 6ol Wife dies broken-hearted, iii. 652—Marries again, 
 iii. 654—Dies of consumption, hardened in sin, iii. 660. 
 Bankrupt —How to make amends to his creditors, iii. 631. 
 Bankruptcy, fraudulent, to get hatfuls of money, iii. 628— 
 A neat way of thieving; a designed, or double siu, iii. 62S 
 —A slithy, rob-sliop, pickpocket, iii. 632. 
 
 Baptism. See Sacraments. 
 
 Baptist, John the, not permitted to see the kingdom of which 
 he was the forerunner, and thus shut out, iii. 417. 
 
 Barren Fig-tree, the, why it was cursed, ii. 305—Or the doom 
 and downfall of the fruitless professor, iii. 560—The temple 
 of the Lord saves no barren professor—The metaphors in 
 this parable, and the mysteries concealed under them, iii. 
 562—The certain man ; the fig-tree planted in his vine¬ 
 yard, iii. 563—Not planted of God, iii. 564—Fruitless, iii. 
 565 Or bad fruit, iii. 566—Manifested by suffering, iii. 
 569 God searcheth, iii. 570—Has three years’ trial, iii. 
 570, note—Trials for improvement, iii. 571—Cut it down, 
 nothing can save it— Two ways to cast out, iii. 572—Christ's 
 plea for forbearance—Christ’s plea even for a barren fig- 
 tree, iii. 574—The means used, iii. 575—Bring out the 
 axe—Death, fetch this tree to the fire, iii. 578—The cut¬ 
 ting down dreadful, iii. 584—In God’s vineyard, a poem, 
 iii. 748. 
 
 Barren fig-trees , planted in the church by the devil: Whv ? 
 i. 99. 
 
 * Bats'-Eyes, Mrs., reviles Christiana, iii. 177. 
 
 Beast in a preferable condition to a lost man, i. 16—Grace 
 
 abounding, Nos. 88, 104, 149; i. 139—Not defiled, but 
 injured by sin, ii. 486. 
 
 Beaumont, Mrs. Agnes, i. 45, note. 
 
 Beauty of Mansoul before the fall, iii. 255—Impregnable 
 i except by treachery, iii. 256. 
 
 Bed: They lie easy whose bed God makes, i. 741. 
 
 Belief. See Faith. 
 
 | Bell-ringing, Bunyan’s fondness for; lingeringly given up 
 on his conversion, i. 10. 
 
 Benevolence: Our duty to give a wicked poor man a penny 
 and a scripture to think upon, i. 98. 
 
 * Beulah, the happy, its celestial visions, iii. 161, 240. 
 
 Bible-.' Jews preferred traditions to the, i. 69—Must be ex¬ 
 amined carefully; nice distinctions important, i. 188—The 
 truth as it comes from God’s minting house, i. 238_Chris¬ 
 
 tian s d tty to make it known, i. 239—The only measure 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 771 
 
 and standard of truth, i. 392 ; ii. 318 —Called the Fear of 
 God—And the Word of God, i. 443 —To be revered and 
 obeyed at all hazards, i. 444 —Standeth more sure than 
 heaven and earth, i. 444 —To be kept close to the con¬ 
 science, i. 485 —The scatfold or stage for Hope to play 
 his part on, i. 591 —The test for all things, i. 596 —The 
 revelation of God in nature insufficient, i. 662 —In con¬ 
 viction, is as the roaring of a lion, piercing of a sword, 
 burning of fire, and as thunder and a hammer, i. 694 
 —Of itself condemns only, except the voice of the living 
 God is heard in it, i. 694— Satan’s efforts to have it 
 discredited, ii. 136 —Our only safe guide, ii. 482 —The 
 Scriptures of the AVord of God, ii. 601 —Some scriptures 
 treated as if out of date, ii. 719 —*A study, iii. 110 —A 
 looking-glass, iii. 231 —*The Sword with a true Jerusa¬ 
 lem blade, iii. 233 — A map of the way, iii. 236 —AVord 
 magnified, “ They have Moses,” iii. 707 —Its treasures of 
 knowledge, iii. 708 —AAHiyit is slighted, rejected, and de¬ 
 spised, iii. 715 —All such in danger of perdition, iii. 718 
 —Its effects on those who believe: they are killed, iii. 
 719; and made alive, iii. 720 —A true copy of the original 
 text. iii. 767. 
 
 Birthright by regeneration, essential to enable us to enter 
 heaven i. 377. 
 
 Blessed is he that can say, “ The lord took me,” ii. 426. 
 
 Blessedness all arises from God’s presence, iii. 457. 
 
 Blessing of God sometimes a snare, ii. 434. 
 
 * Blind. See delightful things, iii. 87. 
 
 Blood and fat not to be eaten, the command spiritualized, 
 
 ii. 488. 
 
 Blood of the saints, defends, confirms, and preserves the 
 truth, i. 724—The cries of, most fearful, ii. 450. 
 
 Body, the, a cabinet to hold the soul, not to be stuffed with 
 trumpery, i. 113—A tool for the soul to work with, i. 117 
 —Will be saved from sin, mortality, and the grave, and 
 glorified like Christ’s body, i. 341—A^ast difference be¬ 
 tween a natural and spiritual body, ii. 93—Of Christ. 
 See God — Christ. 
 
 Boldness , holy. See Assurance and Faith. 
 
 Bonner , that blood-red perseoutor, i. 630—And his filthy 
 blind priests, iii. 699. 
 
 Boohs of the creatures, of Life, of Nature. See under Four 
 Last Things, Judgment. 
 
 Book, a, for hoys and girls, or temporal things spiritualized, 
 afterwards published under the title of Divine Emblems 
 for Boys and Girls, iii. 746. 
 
 Books for Children, greatly improved, iii. 711. 
 
 Breaking on the wheel, note, i. 24. 
 
 Brewing that in this life which we must drink in the next, 
 
 iii. 701. 
 
 * Brisk, Mr., courts Mercy, iii. 200. 
 
 Broadway-gate, leading to Dead-man’s Lane, iii. 14 
 
 Bunyan, though of humble parentage, was put to school— 
 
 Under great apprehensions from devils and wicked spirits, 
 i. 6—Some time after being married, and reading two 
 books which his wife had received from her father, 
 has some desires of religion, i. 7—AVliile playing at a 
 game called cat, a voice from heaven calls upon him to 
 leave his sins, i. 8—Leaves off swearing, betakes himself 
 to reading the Bible, and a work of outward reformation 
 commences, i. 9—Conversion of, and the Bible now sweet 
 to him, i. 10, 11—Under strong temptation, to try his 
 faith, i. 12—Breaks his state of mind to the poor people 
 of Bedford, who tell Mr. Gifford of his condition, i. 15— 
 The ministry of Mr. Gifford, by the grace of God, is 
 blessed to his soul, i. 20—Breaks his state of mind to an 
 ancient Christian, but receives no consolation, and goes to 
 God, i. 28—Is greatly troubled at the sin of Esau selling 
 his birthright, i. 35—Prays to God in secrecy for the re¬ 
 covery of his wife, and she recovers, i. 37—Has amazing 
 apprehensions of the grace of God, i. 38 —Joins the church 
 at Bedford, i. 39—His call to and success in the ministry, 
 i. 40, 549—His chastity, i. 46—His imprisonment—Ar¬ 
 gues with the justices and lawyers, i. 50—Sentenced to 
 imprisonment, transportation, and to be hung, unless he 
 conformed and went to church, i. 56—Air Cobb, the lawyer, 
 tempts him in vain to get released by conforming, i. 57 
 —llis wife petitions the House of Lords for Ills release. 
 
 and pleads for him before the judges, i. 60—His life, from 
 his release from prison until his death ; written by one of his 
 personal friends, i. 63—His dying sayings, i. 65—His deep 
 humility: “A poor creature as I am,” i. 495—“ What! 
 
 such a poor wretch as I,” i. 549-“ The biggest of all 
 
 fools,” i. 704—His attachment to monarchy, i. 732— 
 “ Such a sinner as I am,” ii. 138—AA r orked with his hands 
 both for his own and for his family’s living—“ Poor, 
 and of no repute in the world,” ii. 201—Text he was 
 about to preach from when dragged from his church and 
 family to jail, ii. 593—His defence of his poverty and de¬ 
 scent, ii. 617—His release from prison, iii. 21—Assisted 
 very materially by Geo. AVhitehead, the Quaker, iii. 25— 
 — Declares himself an Anabaptist, iii. 383—“ A dull- 
 sounding ram’s-horn,” iii. 645—My low and contemptiblo 
 descent,” iii. 674—llefuses “a more plentiful income” to 
 keep with his poor church, iii. 767—Fond of children • 
 “ I think some may call me a baby, ’cause I with them 
 play,” iii. 748. 
 
 Bunyan —Grace abounding to the chief of sinners, being 
 his spiritual experience through the agonies of the new 
 birth; his being called to the work of the ministry, and 
 his long imprisonment for refusing to attend the church of 
 England service, i. 6—Heads of an excellent sermon which 
 was blessed to him, i. 16—Plis strong convictions: “ I was 
 a great sin-breeder, but God took me first, and when He 
 made me sigh, they would hearken, and inquiringly say, 
 AVhat’s the matter with John?” i. 79—How he heard ser¬ 
 mons, i. 159—A4 r rote all his works from the knowledge 
 conveyed to him in the Bible, and borrowed nothing from 
 libraries, i. 392—Importunity in prayer, i. 538—Notices 
 of his life, trials, and opinions; narrative of his convictions 
 and conversion in the doctrine of the law and grace long 
 before he published his Grace Abounding, i. 548 — His 
 experience in prayer; difficult to keep his heart with God, 
 i. 631, 634—Humbly submits his book of Antichrist to the 
 judgment and correction of the godly, ii. 79—The testi¬ 
 mony of his pastor to his great ability, faithfulness, and 
 success in preaching. Took three heavenly degrees : Union 
 with Christ, anointing of the Spirit, and experience of the 
 temptations of Satan, ii. 141—Preached for love to Christ 
 and of souls, and not for hire: They that “ make merchan¬ 
 dize of the people for so much a-year for preaching to 
 them,” are “ abominable to the Lord,” ii. 209—His full 
 assurance of hope : “ AVhen I am deceased I shall rest from 
 my labours, and be in paradise, as through grace I com¬ 
 fortably believe,” ii. 574—His confession of his faith, and 
 reason of his practice as to with whom he would hold 
 church fellowship, published while he was in prison: “ Let 
 my enemies be judges whither I savour anything of heresy 
 or rebellion worthy almost twelve years’imprisonment, or 
 that deserveth to be hanged or banished for ever, according 
 to their tremendous sentence—Pleads that his long impri¬ 
 sonment was no proof of crime, but for faith, holiness, and 
 peace, ii. 593—Pictures the desperate wickedness of his 
 own heart, ii. 681—His peculiar qualifications for writing 
 his allegories, iii. 9—His doubts on the propriety of pub¬ 
 lishing The Pilgrim's Progress ; seeks the advice of friends 
 —His apology for The Pilgrim's Progress, iii. 85—His 
 spiritual experience narrated allegorically in The Pilgrim's 
 Progress and Holy War, iii. 89, 253—Claims The Pilgrim 
 as entirely his own, and makes an anagram of his name, 
 iii. 374—“ I am for drinking water out of my own cistern ; 
 what God makes mine by the evidence of his AVord and 
 Spirit, that I dare make bold with. AVherefore, seeing 
 though I am without their learned lines, yet well fur¬ 
 nished with the words of God, I mean the Bible, I have 
 contented myself with what I have there found,” iii. 398 
 —AVrote according to his present light from the Scrip¬ 
 tures, iii. 440—Divers have felt the power of the word 
 delivered by him, iii. 672. 
 
 Burden of sin; how constituted, i. 352 ; iii. 89—On the 
 Christian’s back, i. 546. 
 
 Burrough's , the Quaker, a railing ltabshakeh, answers Bun¬ 
 yan, ii. 176. 
 
 Burton's [John) Epistle to Gospel Truths, in which he gives 
 Bunyan's character when first he became a preacher, ii. 
 139.' 
 

 
 
 r* 
 
 ( L<$ 
 
 THE INDEX. 
 
 * Bu tcher killing a sheep, an emblem of Antichrist, iii. 186. 
 Buying and selling to be reviewed at the great day, iii. 640. 
 By-ends distinguished from singleness of heart, i. 464—*Of 
 
 Fail-speech, iii. 132, 224—His fatal end, iii. 137. 
 
 * By-path meadow, iii. 138, 228. 
 
 * By-way to hell, iii. 145, 166, 231, 235. 
 
 C. 
 
 Cain , the murderer, a fugitive, hut not put to death, ii. 449. 
 Calling , effectual, by Christ, i. 14; ii. 433, 434, 599. 
 
 Calls to careless sinners, i. 718. 
 
 Campian, the Jesuit, and Fowler, the Bishop, agree, ii. 332. 
 
 * Canaan, language of, spoken by pilgrims, iii. 128. 
 
 Candle , an emblem of the Christian life, iii. 752. 
 
 Carnal clergymen a curse, iii. 696. 
 
 Carnal gospellers , numerous in England, like locusts and 
 maggots, iii. 429. 
 
 Carnal security most dangerous to Mansoul, iii. 324. 
 Carriage in which weary pilgrims ride towards heaven, iii. 
 391. 
 
 Case of conscience, on women meeting for worship without 
 men, ii. 658—A curious one, iii. 610. 
 
 Catechism for children and the ignorant, on a new plan, ii. 
 676. 
 
 * Catechising Christiana’s children, iii. 199. 
 
 Cedars of Lebanon, their enormous size, iii. 517, and note. 
 Ceremonies not commanded—a yoke of antichrist, i. 358- 
 Set above faith and love, ii. 233. 
 
 * Certificate, or sealed roll [Eph. i. 13]—Given to Christian, 
 
 iii. 102 Lost for a season, iii. 105, 260—His evidence, 
 iii. 106, 165. ’ 
 
 Charity , but not a prating tongue, will open heaven’s gates, 
 i. 388—* A virgin examiner, iii. 108, 199—'*A delectable 
 mountain, iii. 231—Like the steeple of a church, iiir475. 
 Child of God, a pitiful thing of himself, i. 601. 
 
 Children. See Grace Abounding, No. 327, i. 48—See Bela- 
 tive Duties —Naturally averse to morality, i. 127—The 
 most helpless most cared for, i. 168—Of believers must 
 leheve for themselves or perish, i. 262, and note—How to 
 teach them to pray without a form, i. 635—How to cor¬ 
 rect and punish, ii. 559—Commended to God, iii. 108_ 
 
 *Of the spies tempt Christian, iii. 114—^Blessed by reli¬ 
 gious instruction, iii. 199—The necessity of preachin°-to 
 their understanding, iii. 747—Chosen, or elect. See 
 Election. 
 
 Clirisom Child , meaning of, iii. 663, and note. 
 
 Christ God and Man —God and man, i. 21, 36—The City 
 of Refuge, i. 34—The saints’righteousness, i. 36—A public 
 person, i. 36—His ways to be improved in dark hours, i. 
 
 97 Carries his people to the grave in his bosom, i. 168_ 
 
 Cannot desert his people, i. 189—A complete Saviour, i. 203 
 —Greatness of his person and priesthood, i. 203—His ever 
 living is our safety, i. 231—Ever living, i. 233—His wil- 
 mgness to save, i. 264—His power to save and to cast 
 out, i. 273—Sinners drawn to, i. 339—How he who was 
 never out of the world should come into it, i. 398—Called 
 Jesus of Nazareth twenty-one times, i. 398—His perfect 
 manhood, i. 398—Came to save, i. 399—In the fulness of 
 time, i. 400—Proof by miracles and the altar of incense, 
 
 k 401— The r0ck of offence ’ i - 401—His preparation for 
 
 is work; took our flesh, i. 403—Incarnation of, its mys¬ 
 tery, l 404 Made under the law, i. 406—Common mean¬ 
 ing of the term, i. 406, 412 ; ii. 20, and note-Proofs of 
 his all-conquering grace, i. 422—Doctrines, peace and holi- 
 ness, i. 423—-Our peace, i. 424—Encouragements to come 
 to, i. 434—Sinners keep from him, because they cannot buy 
 nun, i. 519—Weeping over Jerusalem, i. 528—The com¬ 
 mon treasure-house, i. 565—Our unmovable righteous- 
 
 ness, i. 574—A sight of, shows our deformity, i. 697_ 
 
 Christ and a pitcher better than the wicked and abun¬ 
 dance, .I. 701—His love inexpressible, even to wonder¬ 
 ment, n. 3 His humiliation infinite as his glory, ii. 19_ 
 
 •• -Z k , n0wledge of his love is attainable in’this life, 
 
 d •• oo 5 / our helps t0 retain the knowledge of 
 
 it, n. 28—Feels the afflictions of his saints, ii. 30—His 
 mmility in passing angels to save man, ii. 30—End of 
 ns reign as man, ii. 127—Took our nature, ii. 142—Born 
 
 of a virgin, ii. 143—Necessity of his being a man, ii. 144— 
 Light of, new and spiritual, ii. 310—Not an instructor only, 
 but a Saviour, ii. 312—In our flesh, lived and died for us, 
 
 ii. 595—*The wicket-gate, iii. 90, 96, 107, [means Christ, 
 see margin, 177], 179, 222—*Lord of the Hill, iii. 109— 
 *How revealed to the soul, iii. 124, 155, 158—^Passed 
 through Vanity Fair, iii. 127—The tree of life, the cura¬ 
 tive power of its leaves, iii. 138—His righteousnesses, 
 
 iii. 191—His country-house in the Valley of Humiliation, 
 iii. 207—Loved and feared, can alone take Mansoul, iii. 214 
 
 His heavenly counsel and comfort, iii. 714—His love 
 unsearchable, a poem, iii. 760. 
 
 Christ— His atonement— Made sin, or died as a sinner, the 
 great mystery, i. 303—Common or equal to all his saints ; 
 they die and rise again in him, i. 305—Shedding of his 
 blood essential to salvation, i. 306, 550—His qualifica¬ 
 tions as a Saviour, i. 407—Takes our sins upon himself, 
 i. 408—Made sin for us, i. 409—Made a curse for us, i. 
 410—Had no mediator, i. 410—Died millions of deaths 
 when he diedpnee for all, i. 411—His death, its bitter¬ 
 ness,^. 411; iii. 738—Objections to this doctrine, i. 412 
 His sufferings, i. 412—His death as great a miracle as 
 any he wrought, i. 414—Made satisfaction for sinners, ten 
 proofs, i. 535—His power and fulness, i. 537—Crucified, 
 ail our hope, i. 561—Very God and very man, i. 561— 
 Satisfaction by, for sin, i. 563—His sufferings, their na¬ 
 ture and extent, i. 605—Borne of pleasure and necessity, 
 b 609 Must be obeyed as a king, as well as trusted as a 
 Saviour, i. 616—Our sacrifice, i. 689—Preparations for 
 his sufferings, ii. 19—A benefit to all creation, ii. 486— A 
 lansom to save from hell, iii. 705—His agony in the gar¬ 
 den, iii. 706. 
 
 Christ —A sacrifice —His atonement; more virtue in to 
 save than in sin to damn, i. 177—Cross of, alone can re¬ 
 lieve the sinner of his burden, i. 264; iii. 102—Only can 
 justixy, i. 323 Sufferings when in the flesh, and not in 
 
 us, 1 
 
 323 Perfect; why it is infinitely superior to the 
 saciifices under the law, i. 405—Endured hell torments in 
 his soul, i. 412, 529, 530—An example, i. 414—Paid the 
 full price for his elect, demonstrated, i. 416—He has the 
 keys of death and of hell; not delegated to any other, i. 
 417—Communicates the Holy Spirit, a proof of his Mes- 
 siahship, i. 428—The perfect sacrifice of the new cove¬ 
 nant, i. 528 Nine types fulfilled in his sacrifice, i. 529—• 
 His garment covers all his mystical body, i. 665—Im¬ 
 puted right, i. 665—The sacrifice as well as high priest, i. 
 f>^7 Willing and effectual, i. 667—His resurrection the 
 acceptance of his work, i. 669—His ascension, its glorv, 
 i. 670—Descent into hell, ii. 18; iii. 706—His death 
 makes death our advantage, ii. 21—Glorified to bless his 
 saints, ii. 21—Buried and raised again, ii. 156—His ascen¬ 
 sion, ii. 158—Its blessings, ii. 307—Bruises the serpent’s 
 head, ii. 437. 
 
 Christ -His offices —Exalted as Mediator, ever liveth, i. 
 235 ; ii. 596 His entrance into heaven most glorious, 
 i. 418 Ills prophetic office, i. 419—His kingly office, i. 
 420—The great high priest, i. 642—He is die throne, 
 the priest, the altar, and the sacrifice, i. 646—His altar 
 not the cross, i. 651—His qualifications as high priest, i. 
 663—His robes or holy garments, i. 665—His consecra¬ 
 tion, i. 665—The altar, i. 668—Typified, iii. 519—His 
 kingdom spiritual, iii. 536—Judge of quick and dead 
 iii. 729. 
 
 Christ His priestry office— Who are privileged in his 
 
 intercession, i. 202, 216—For what he intercedes, i. 204__ 
 
 Inferences from it, i. 205, 212, 236—Its benefits salvation 
 to the uttermost, i. 207—Saved from sin, i. 207—From 
 all punishment in hell, but not from temporal trials, i. 208 
 —Saves from Satanic suggestions ; from evil thoughts 
 that haunt and hurt us, i. 210—Privilege of Christ’s in¬ 
 tercession enjoyed for ever, i. 235—He has been a never- 
 failing intercessor for 5850 years, and will be to the end, 
 i. 237—He ought to wear the crown for ever, i. 237— 
 The great thing of the gospel, i. 238—The high priest of 
 the new covenant, i. 530—Compared with the high priest, 
 n 531—The benefits of his intercession, i. 532 ; ii. 161— 
 Twenty-one proofs of his greater perfection, i. 533—As 
 high priest, continually intercedes, i. 649—To be sought 
 
in prayer; without him there is no acceptance, i. G50— 
 
 His natural qualifications as high priest, i. G72-675_ 
 
 Sympathy between him and his seed, i. 673—Tempted as 
 they, i. 673—Love to his afflicted members, i. G74. 
 
 Christ The advocate —A subject of vast importance; he 
 never lost a_ cause, i. 152—Christians sin, and have an ad 
 vocate, i. 154—Sins of men and not of devils, i. 155— 
 Before the throne of God, where all must stand, i. 155— 
 Implieth an offence committed, i. 156—An accuser, sin¬ 
 ning children unable to plead; Christ only is able, i. 157 
 —Nature of the office to plead according to deeds, i. 158— 
 When it is exercised, i. 159—Caution against a fatal error, 
 
 i. 159—The only advocate, i. 160—Pleading a bad cause 
 a mystery, i. 160, 190—Takes the sin upon himself, and 
 pleads his merits, i. 161—Pleads against Satan, i. 162— 
 Pleads God’s interest in hi3 people, i. 163—That they are 
 his spouse, his body, i. 165—Distinction between priest 
 and advocate, i. 169—For his children only, i. 170—One 
 
 who is retained, i. 171—Case must be stated, i. 172_ 
 
 Cause be submitted to him, i. 173—Confidence established, 
 i- 174—Satan the adversary, i. 175—Fears promote suc¬ 
 cess, i. 176—High privilege; pleads a price paid by him¬ 
 self, i. 176—A demurrer, the law repealed, i. 179—Never 
 lost a cause; interested, i. 179—Always ready, day or 
 night, i. 180, 191—Cannot be bribed, i. 181—Is all that 
 a suitor can need, i. 182—He is essential, i. 182—Under¬ 
 stands our old title-deeds, i. 187—Christ the guardian for 
 his brethren under age, i. 187—Moves court of heaven to 
 restore evidences when forfeited, i. 188—How can we pay 
 bis fee? i. 190, and note—Always needed, i. 191—Exalted, 
 i* 191 Full of comfort to the saints, i. 193—An amazing 
 instance, of condescension, i. 194—Should strengthen our 
 graces, i. 196—If he plead for us with God, we should 
 plead for him with men, i. 198—Directs weak saints to 
 the advocate, i. 199—He who has no advocate is ground 
 to powder, i. 200—For whom he is advocate, i. 369—His 
 second coming to judge the world. See Four east things 
 -J UDGMENT. 
 
 Christ: His school teaches hard lessons, i. 735—Within us, 
 
 ii. 135—Singular errors as to “Christ in us,” ii. 147— 
 Not opposed to Christ without, ii. 172—The man Christ 
 Jesus, his people’s life, ii. 173 — Within the believer 
 caused by, and distinct from, Christ’s atonement, ii. 202— 
 All who name him must depart from iniquity, ii. 512. 
 
 Christ's disciples must count the cost; what it is, i. 105— 
 Cross and crown inseparable, i. 106. 
 
 Christ's love: The saints’ knowledge of that which passeth 
 knowledge, ii. 2—Reasons why, and fulness of its breadth, 
 length, depth, and height, being beyond all measure, ii. 3 
 —Comparative knowledge with all saints, ii. 12—All 
 creation could not discover it—Reasons why it is so un¬ 
 searchable—It passeth knowledge, ii. 23, 32—How to at¬ 
 tain the knowledge of, ii. 29—Advantages of knowing it, 
 ii. 33—Without it, saints are pinioned and fettered, ii. 34 
 —It may be improved, ii. 39. 
 
 Christ's Spouse, a poem, iii. 761. 
 
 Christian perfections polluted, i. 327—Enemies, great and 
 many, swifter than eagles, stronger than lions, i. 602—In¬ 
 firmities, i. 698—Life, its essence, ii. 327—Imitation of 
 Christ, ii. 329—Behaviour the fruit of Christianity, 
 teaching husbands, waves, parents, children, masters, and 
 servants, hew to walk so as to please God, ii. 548—As a 
 king, has dominion over himself, but not over others ; he 
 is a warrior to fight his own lusts, ii. 706—Miscarriages 
 no argument against Christianity, ii. 708—Badge or livery, 
 
 ii. 715, and note—*His early view of the promised land, 
 
 iii. 91—^Humility, iii. 97—*Once called Graceless, iii. 
 106—* Weeps and prays for his family, iii. 108—^Rrav¬ 
 ers answered, iii. 173. 
 
 * Christiana and sons follow Christian in pilgrimage, iii. 177 
 —Her deatii-bed scene, iii. 240. 
 
 Christians made alive by Christ, i. 544—Advantages of their 
 being quickened, i 516—Are above the world, i. 729— 
 They enjoy present happiness as well as future bliss, i. 739 
 —Are more blessed than Adam in his innocence, ii. 266, 
 427—All descended from the apostles, iii. 218. 
 
 Christinas kept every day, ii. 720, and note. 
 
 Church: Mode of admission to,.among Baptists, i. 39; iii. 
 
 107 ; and note, iii. 563— Bunyan set over the, at Bedford, 
 !• 40— l’he judgment of the church to be governed by the 
 Bible, i. 59—The church is an hospital of sick, wounded, 
 and afflicted people, i. 327—Church fellowship abused by 
 the devil, i. 559—Church fellowship, rightly managed, is 
 the glory of the world, i. 757, and note—Some members 
 sweeten others, ii. 35—Church of England damaged by the 
 scandalous lives of some of its clergy, ii. 328—Separated 
 from the world, ii. 455—Ungodly communion with the 
 world brought in the flood, ii. 460—Church of God in 
 England in the furnace, ii. 483—Occasioned the building 
 of Babel, ii. 501—A house to be governed in godly-wise, 
 ii. 534—Church fellowship compared to a flower-garden, 
 a lovely picture, ii. 550, 570—Church, or house of God, 
 its building, nature, excellency, and government, ii. 577 
 —By whom built; beauty, conveniences, ii. 578—Strength, 
 situation; receiving its inhabitants, ii. 579—Governors, 
 ii. 580—Under-ofiicers, ii. 581—Mode of government, ii. 
 583—Laws, ii. 584—Punishments, ii. 587—Withdraw- 
 ment, or efforts to reclaim, ii. 589—Differences about 
 water baptism no bar to communion, ii. 605, 617—Every 
 congregation a distinct church, as the church of Rome, in 
 the house of Aquila, ii. 622—Terms of church fellowship : 
 all that God receives into his communion ought to be re¬ 
 ceived by his church, ii. 628, 648—The universal, cannot 
 be visible, ii. 650—Unscriptural terms of communion, 
 attended with seventeen absurdities, ii. 653—Case of 
 conscience : May women meet for worship, excluding the 
 men, ii. 658—Who has authority to call the church toge¬ 
 ther, ii. 663—Women ought not to minister in public, 
 
 ii. 664—Cases considered: Miriam, ii. 666—Esther, ii. 
 667—Women by the river side, ii. 668—Every assembly 
 for worship a separate church, ii. 671, and note—The 
 church in and about Bedford, ii. 675—^Church, a beau¬ 
 tiful palace—Admission to a Christian church, called 
 Beautiful, by consent of the pastor [the porter] and of the 
 members ; by the laws of the house—When admitted, they 
 are entertained and armed, iii. 106, 107, and note—*Dis- 
 cretion admits to the church—The comfort of pilgrims, iii. 
 107, 197, 214—*Like a garden—^Flowers an emblem of 
 church members, iii. 186—The bath, iii. 189—Members 
 humble, iii. 190—Devoted to each other, iii. 223—In the 
 New Jerusalem, the lilies and chief spices, iii. 409—Regula¬ 
 tions all limited to the written word, iii. 418—None to be 
 admitted but visible saints by calling, iii. 448—Striking 
 difference between a son and a servant in the church, iii. 
 449, 466—The church should have a large porch to receive 
 converts, iii. 474—Excommunication one way out of the 
 church, iii. 495, and note—A church may sin God away, 
 
 iii. 496—The church, however afflicted, never consumed, 
 iii. 519—A fortress against antichrist, iii. 520—In the 
 wilderness, its beauty excites the hatred of the world, iii. 
 522—Effects of opposition and debates in, iii. 525—I can¬ 
 not injure the world, iii. 527—The members have their 
 bitter as well as sweet draughts, iii. 528—Must enter into 
 the church by the door, and not climb in, iii. 564—It is 
 the garden of God, and his delight, iii. 566—Its right to 
 excommunicate, iii. 573. 
 
 Circumcision once laid aside forty years among the Jews, ii. 
 626. 
 
 Cities of refuge, types of Christ, i. 250, 265. 
 
 * Civility, son of Legality, iii. 94. 
 
 Clear views of divine truth of great importance, i. 7 50. 
 
 * Clear, one of the Delectable hills, iii. 145. 
 
 Clergy not moved by the Holy Ghost are blasphemers, ii. 
 22—Scrambling for benefices, and running after tithe 
 cocks, ii. 178—If carnal, their awful state in eternity, iii. 
 696, and note. 
 
 Closet preferable to coffee-house or shop, ii. 537. 
 
 Come and welcome to Jesus Christ, i. 241. 
 
 Comers to Christ, if sincere, are sure to speed, i. 676. 
 
 Coming to God—Difficulties in the way, i. 209, 249, 251 — 
 Some attempt to come not by Christ, i. 216—Three sorts 
 of people come to Christ, but not to God by him, i. 217— 
 How to come aright, i. 218—The character of three sorts 
 of people who come, i. 218—Four tilings that hinder a 
 comer, i. 219—The comer must first know God, i. 221— 
 The Christian is continually coming to Christ, why? and how, 
 
774 
 
 THE INDEX. 
 
 i. 225—Inferences from it, i. 226—Sincere comers certain 
 of salvation, i. 231—What it is to come, i. 247—Come 
 weeping, flying, crying, pricked in heart, hating the world; 
 guard against such lies as, ‘ I go, sir, and went not,’ i. 
 248—Christ and his word honoured by our coming, i. 249 
 —The door is never shut while the sinner is coming; they 
 would come in haste; would take a mile at a step; would 
 go full gallop; but the flesh will hardly trot, i. 252— 
 Coming to Christ the power of the promise, ‘shall come,’ 
 i. 254—Objections to it answered, i. 256—Import of ‘ to 
 me,’ i. 258—The promise is, ‘ I will in no wise cast out,*’ 
 i. 261—The coming sinner seen and encouraged by Christ, 
 i. 265—Meaning of ‘ In no wise cast out,’ i. 269—Hin- 
 derances, i. 269, 281—What it is to be cast out, i. 271— 
 This coming is not of man but of God, i. 275—Honour and 
 happiness of those who, in truth, come, i. 276—Aivful state 
 of those who despise the comers, i. 277—Signs and tokens 
 of a comer—Often fear reception, i. 279—Encourage¬ 
 ments, i. 284, 296—Inferences, i. 291—Come boldly as 
 God bids thee, i. 684. 
 
 Commandments: ten under the law, one under the gospel, iii. 
 483. 
 
 Committing the soul to God, what it is, ii. 702—Who is in¬ 
 vited to do it, ii. 704—Its advantages, ii. 727. 
 
 Communion of saints, a blessed enjoyment, i. 40; iii. 323— 
 Or church fellowship. See Church —With God, the saints’ 
 desire, i. 755. 
 
 Conduct of man to God the same now as from the beginning, 
 i. 444. 
 
 Confession , if sincere, hard to be done—Four things essential 
 to right confession, ii. 261—Accompanied with repentance 
 and the terrors of the Lord, ii. 262—Imploring mercy, ii. 
 265—And forsaking the sin, ii. 327—Of sin only to God, 
 it being part of divine worship, ii. 681. 
 
 Conformists, cowardly ones, punished of God, i. 723. 
 
 Conjurers and sorcerers, i. 536. 
 
 Conscience , burning hot, spurs the sinner to Christ, i. 220_ 
 
 Solemn appeals, i. 436, 554, 575—How it is deadened, ii. 
 261—* Sprinkled before it is cleansed, iii. 98—The re¬ 
 corder of Mansoul, put out of office, but sometimes had 
 terrible fits, iii. 260, 261. 
 
 Consistency of conduct beautifully illustrated, i. 348. 
 
 Consumption , Captain, with all his men of death, iii. 755. 
 
 Contentment in a prison, i. 54. 
 
 Contrast of the wicked on earth and in hell, ‘ they cry,’ iii. 
 686. 
 
 Conventicle of Diabolonians, iii. 367, see note. 
 
 Conversation, the word singularly used, i. 336. 
 
 Conversion: Christian converse a means of, i. 10—By singu¬ 
 lar means, i. 278—Of a sinner, all of God, i. 350—Com¬ 
 menced by lightnings, and thunderings, and voices, i. 656 
 Boanerges, Conviction, Judgment, and Execution, rough 
 hewn men fit to break the ice, sent against Mansoul by 
 Christ, iii. 270—Their speeches, iii. 274. 
 nviction: God convinces of sin, i. 350—Slighted like a 
 wanton boy blowing out the maid’s candle, i. 387-*-Extent 
 of, without conversion, i. 706—Judas under conviction 
 possessed by the devil, ii. 153—Of sin, bitter days, nights, 
 hours, thoughts, smiting upon the breast, ii. 274—A quar¬ 
 rel with the heart, ii. 275—^Conviction of sin, iii. 80, 153, 
 173 The convinced, ragged and burthened, strives td 
 alarm his family, reads the Bible, and prays in secret, iii. 
 
 ’—89—Deeply distressing, iii. 278. 
 
 * Corn-field, an emblem, iii. 186. 
 
 Corruptions, how they are weakened, iii. 426. .i 
 
 Cosmogony: Time, the first of all creation, then angels, hea¬ 
 ven, and earth, ii. 417—The creation spiritualized, ii. 418 
 The stars a type of saints—The sun typifies Christ— 
 The moon his church—Man not created until his house 
 was furnished, ii. 422—The mist typical, ii. 425—Of 
 creation repeated to omit Cain, ii. 455. 
 
 Courtship, a hypocritical, iii. 618. 
 
 Covenant with bell, i. 528—Of death, its signs, i. 746. 
 
 Covenant, new: Sin cannot dissolve or alter, i. 453_Free 
 
 and unchangeable, i. 522—With Christ ar.d not with 
 Adam or Abraham, i. 523—Made before time, i. 523- 
 Conditions of the New Covenant, i. 524—Christ the surety 
 and messenger, i. 526—Unchangeable, i. 538—How men 
 
 are brought into it, i. 540—Its privileges, i. 550—And 
 promises, i. 551—Cannot be shaken or altered, i. 552—Its 
 uses: pardon and perseverance, i. 559—Full of comforts, 
 i. 563—Wraps up the righteous, i. 746—Sealed by Christ’s 
 blood, ii. 142—Everlasting, ii. 492. 
 
 Covenants, fulfilled in Christ for all his elect, i. 304—The 
 Law not the source of justification, i. 309—Law, its con- 
 demningpower increaseth sin,i. 317—Are Christians under 
 the Law? i. 318—Cannot justify, i. 318—Six things in¬ 
 clining us to seek justification by the law, i. 320—Must 
 convince before the gospel can convert, i. 337—The Scrip¬ 
 ture, like the mouths of great guns, against the wilfully 
 ignorant, i. 389—Law, the end of the, sinless obedience, 
 
 i. 406—Law and grace—The doctrine unfolded, i. 492- 
 study of the, solemnly important, i. 493—Must begin the 
 work of conversion, i. 495—Law condemns, grace saves 
 —Christians not under the law, i. 497—The unconverted 
 are under the law, i. 497—First given to Adam, but more 
 fully to Moses, i. 498—Examples showing what the law is, 
 and its punishment, i. 499—There are only two—Who are 
 under the law, i. 500—Its terrors—Breach of one com¬ 
 mand at any time breaks the whole, i. 501—Law requires 
 perfection in mind and deed, i. 502—Law allows no re¬ 
 pentance, has no mercy, i. 503—One breach fatal—Men’s 
 misery by the law, i. 504—Sad state of those under the 
 law, i. 506—Cries of the law against the soul, i. 507—Curse 
 must abide on all except the redeemed, i. 511—Its use of 
 self-examination, i. 554—Satan aids the Law to take the 
 place of Christ, ii. 29—The Pharisees trusted in Moses, 
 while they crucified Christ; so do all who trust in Moses, 
 
 ii. 153—Its work on the heart, ii. 154—Covenant of works 
 cannot give life, ii. 442—*Sinai, terrible to the awakened 
 sinner, iii. 94, 97—^Slaves to the Law cannot make others 
 free, iii. 95—^Cannot save, iii. 96—Cannot sanctify, iii. 98 
 —Shows no mercy—*Moses knocks down Faithful, iii. 118 
 —Shown in the map of salvation and damnation, iii. 336. 
 
 * Coveting, the county of, in the north, iii. 133. 
 
 Covetousness: The Lord abliorreth the covetous—He shall 
 
 not inherit heaven, i. 386—Casteth out the fear of God, 
 i. 486—To be abhorred as of the devil—Eight notes of its 
 sinfulness in hindering good works, ii. 566—A poisonous 
 sin—Idolatry—Why covetousness is so called, ii. 567— 
 Makes a minister smell frowish, and more like a greedy 
 dog than an apostle [or a descendant of one], iii. 473. 
 
 Cox, John, of Brafield, by Northampton, a dreadful suicide, 
 
 iii. 660. 
 
 Creation. See Cosmogony. 
 
 * Crooked \ane from Conceit, iii. 146. 
 
 Cross, the, not to be worshipped, i. 668, and note—Of no 
 more value than the wood by which the sacrifice was burnt, 
 i. 669—^Effects of a believing sight of Christ crucified, 
 iii. 102, 107, 190, 192—Is the Christian’s way-mark in all 
 his journey—Six directions how to know the cross, iii. 386, 
 Crosses are tokens of God’s love, i. 735—They should noi 
 weaken our faith, ii. 439. 
 
 Cuirass, probably known to the Old Testament warriors, iii. 
 526, and note. 
 
 * Custom in worship not in the Bible, sinful, iii. 103. 
 
 D. 
 
 Damnation, a map of the order of, iii. 336. 
 
 Damned —They will be amazed to see preachers and profes¬ 
 sors in hell, i. 390—Those who despise Jesus, i. 419—• 
 They wish in vain for godly company, iii. 688—Why they 
 are anxious for the salvation of their families, iii. 697. 
 *Dance and music at Mrs. Wanton’s, iii. 178—Of the Pilgrims, 
 Jii. 229. 
 
 Dancing, given up by Bunyan on his conversion, i. 10. 
 
 *Danger and destruction, two bye-roads, iii. 104—Stopped 
 up, 194. 
 
 Daniel's seventy weeks fulfilled by Jesus, ii. 146. 
 
 Danvers' controversy with Bunyan, ii. 616. 
 
 Dark sayings of the Holy Ghost, i. 655. 
 
 * Dark-land near destruction, iii. 233. 
 
 * David's conflict with the three thieves, iii. 149. 
 
 Day of Grace —Is it the whole of lifer or does it in some 
 cases end before the sinner dies? i. 13, 99, 570; iii. 101, 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 o77, 370, 332, 567, 577, 702—Dread lest it had passed, 
 i. 14—Ishmael’s day—Cain’s day—Signs that it is not 
 passed, i. 100, 102—Illustrated by the labourers in the 
 vineyard and the thief on the cross, i. 253—Sometimes sin¬ 
 ners have not heaven’s gates open to them so long as they 
 suppose, iii. 382—Or the accepted time, iii. 456—Signs of 
 being past grace, iii. 519—Instances, iii. 583. 
 
 Dead , five Scriptural meanings of the word, ii. 86. 
 
 Dead man’s bell rung for joy, iii. 331. 
 
 Dead body prepared for burial by tying toes and thumbs, iii. 
 727. 
 
 Dealing, what constitutes fair dealing; a comforting note for 
 booksellers, iii. 639. 
 
 Death swallowing sinners, i. 74—Better to die before death 
 comes—God’s sergeant or bailiff, i. 221—Hath no domi¬ 
 nion over the saints, i. 305—Day of death time to pack up 
 and be gone, i. 678—Christians ready to die, i. 727, 728 
 —Duty and wisdom of being ready, i. 728—A trying hour 
 even to the Christian, i. 730—Communion with Christ con¬ 
 quers death, i. 760—Death takes the sinner by the throat, 
 and hauls him down stairs, i. 764—Spirits depart at death 
 to heaven or hell, ii. 677—*Quagmire in Valley of Death, 
 iii. 114—Enoch and Elijah carried over—An object of 
 dread, iii. 163, 243— s The river without a bridge, iii. 163, 
 175-214, 222, 234—Crossing it bravely no proof of safety, 
 iii. 166—To the fearful less trying, iii. 214, 242—The 
 black river, iii. 235—^Bitter to palate, but sweet when 
 down ; more terrible to some than others, iii. 240—Cove¬ 
 nant with death and hell, iii. 267—The axe with which 
 God cuts down the hypocrite, iii. 584—Without terror, no 
 proof of godliness, but sometimes of hardness of heart, iii. 
 660—Equally visits the godly and ungodly, iii. 678—Both 
 go to judgment, iii. 679—A deliverer to the saint, iii. 707. 
 
 Death-bed —Trials of the Christian, i. 340; iii. 163—Peculiar 
 temptations at the dark entry, i. 679—Scenes, i. 729, 742 
 —Longing to depart, pray that I may be gone, ii. 15—A 
 sinful life and a quiet death the high road to hell, iii. 166, 
 663, 682—Awful sick-bed scene, iii. 580, 585—An awful 
 account of one, iii. 650—Lovely one of a pious woman, 
 iii. 652—Music heard at the death-bed of a Puritan, iii. 564. 
 
 * Deceit, towers of, iii. 118. 
 
 Dejected souls should study grace—A cordial for, i. 357. 
 
 * Delectable mountains, distant view, iii, 110, 143, 230. 
 
 *Demas and his silver mine, iii. 136, 228. 
 
 Departing from iniquity—From what sins, ii. 531—Six mo¬ 
 tives to leave sins, ii. 532—Iniquitous opinions, ii. 537. 
 
 Desire of righteous contrasted with the fear of the wicked, 
 i. 744—Has a long neck to look into the next world, i. 750 
 —Grapples with the king of terrors, i. 759—To be with 
 Christ—Why? i. 759—After Christ fainter in some than 
 in others, i. 760—Of the Christian, how granted, i. 761— 
 Essential to happiness—The life of prayer, i. 762—Rises 
 to God through all opposition, i. 763—Carries us away 
 after God, even if opposed by ten thousand men—Of the 
 wicked unheeded, and why, i. 764—Of the hypocrite come 
 to naught, i. 765—Granted not always a token for good, 
 i. 767—Sometimes unlawful, i. 768—Sometimes answer 
 received, although unknown, i. 769. 
 
 * Desire of Vain-Glory —My Lord, iii. 130. 
 
 Despair: It tends to sin, i. 9—It is unreasonable—A sin if 
 this side of hell gates, i. 91—The devil’s master—Makes 
 a man flounce like a wild bull in a not, i. 92—Arguments 
 against it, i. 279—Quaint dialogue against Despair between 
 Christ and the sinner—Scriptural instances and consent of 
 all saints against despair, i. 280—Its source, i. 352—Ten 
 antidotes to despairing thoughts—Grace the great remedy 
 against, i. 358—Soul struggling with it like a fly in a spi¬ 
 der’s web, i. 435 ; iii. 754—It shuts the mouth and hardens 
 the heart, ii. 263—*It cages a man in iron, iii. 100, 184— 
 *The giant, iii. 139—*Shuts him in a dungeon, iii. 142, 
 229—Slain, but may live again, iii. 229. 
 
 Desperate words of one H. S., iii. 607. 
 
 Despond, Slough of —Christian in the slough, literally, i. 16 
 —^Allegorically, iii. 92—^Christiana escapes, iii. 178, 
 188—^Fearing detained a month at it, iii. 213. 
 
 * Despondency and Much-afraid, iii. 229—His happy death, 
 
 iii. 242. 
 
 Desponding ones comforted, i. 37. 
 
 r 7 ?- 
 
 i lo 
 
 * Destruction, the city of, iii. 90, &c. 
 
 Devil. See Angels, fallen —His touching doctrines to be 
 watched and carefully avoided, ii. 169. 
 
 Diabolonians who lurked about Mansoul (the lord Fornica¬ 
 tion, Murder, Deceit, &c.) all to be crucified, iii. 322, 330. 
 
 Dialogue between Christ and a wounded sinner, i. 280. 
 
 * Difficulty, the hill, iii. 104, 193, 214, 222. 
 
 Difficulties in closing with Christ, ii. 252. 
 
 * Diffidence the wife of Despair, iii. 140—Slam, iii. 229. 
 
 Diseases under Captain Consumption kill Badman, iii. 655. 
 
 Dissembling before God, what it is, ii. 682. 
 
 Dissent, not justified by the evil lives of the clergy, ii. 323 
 —The Christian’s duty, proved by the fiery furnace and 
 den of lions, ii. 553. 
 
 * Ditch, dangerous, in the Shadow of Death, iii. 115—*A 
 
 pitfall of Mrs. Wanton’s, iii. 118. 
 
 Divine love, a sweet disease, i. 282. 
 
 * Divorce between a man and his sin, i. 758—From a wife 
 
 by crying at the cross, iii. 201, and note. 
 
 Doctrines to be all alike received, not to pick and choose, 
 i. 217—Receive and preserve souls in the church, iii. 419 
 —Of the apostles not common stuff raked out of the dung¬ 
 hills and muck-heaps of this world or of antichrist, iii. 435 
 —Govern our notions and dispositions, iii. 555. 
 
 *Dog of Satan near the wicket-gate, iii. 179, 181. 
 
 Dogs loved and cherished more than the children of God, iii. 
 677. 
 
 * Doubting Castle and its horrors, iii. 139—*One key opens all 
 its gates, iii. 142—Many prisoners perish there, iii. 144— 
 *Invisible from Beulah, iii. 161—^Destroyed, but sin can 
 rebuild it, iii. 229. 
 
 Doubters of election—Their misery, i. 332— Stand under 
 Cain’s gibbet, and think they have the halter of Judas 
 about their necks, i. 595—Vocation and salvation by grace 
 —condemned, iii. 368. 
 
 Doubts forbidden, i. 289—Their operation, i. 352— Some come 
 from Satan, i. 590—Hotter than fire—a mountain—clouds 
 that darken the sun, i. 595—Formed into a vast army— 
 The officers’ names, iii. 341—Curiously arranged under 
 their captains—Slain and buried, iii. 361—To be destroy¬ 
 ed, while Bloodmen or Persecutors are left to the day of 
 judgment, iii. 365. 
 
 Dreams, Bunyan subject to fearful, i. 6, 12—Sleeping or 
 waking, if filthy, defile the flesh—Not relied upon by God’s 
 fearers, i. 476—*Dream, awful, iii. 101, 107 —* Warning 
 to Christiana, iii, 173, 188—*Mercy’s sweet dream, iii. 19S 
 —They maybe useful, iii. 190. 
 
 Drum, Diabolus makes a hideous noise with his drum, iii. 
 342. 
 
 Drunkards, God’s judgments on, iii. 648. 
 
 Drunkenness of Noah, the blot in his scutcheon, ii. 493- 
 Wretchedness, and misery allied, iii. 609. 
 
 Dry-eyed Christians and their duties, i. 82. 
 
 Duns Scotus and his duncish sophistry, i. 408. 
 
 Dust, a bit of, conquers principalities, i. 80. 
 
 Duty. See Relative Duties. 
 
 Dying bed: Bunyan’s dying sayings, i. 63—How it is made 
 easy, i. 741. 
 
 E. 
 
 *Ease, a delicate plain, iii. 136. 
 
 East. All worshippers entering Solomon’s temple had their 
 back to the east, in contempt of sun-worship, iii. 468. 
 
 Ebal and Gerizim, the blessing and cursing, i. 742 ; iii. 727 
 —A voice from mount Ebal, iii. 743. 
 
 Eber, a godly man, after whom the Hebrews were called, ii. 
 500/ 
 
 Election —Fearful doubts of, i. 13, 284—Known by calling, 
 i. 102—They whom the Father gives the Son receives, i. 
 241— All Israel the children of the promise, i. 242, 243, 
 262—Of the church, what it is, i. 336—Legions of devils 
 cannot kill one of the elect, even before he is called, i. 338 
 —An act of the Father, i. 344; ii. 598—Election and re¬ 
 probation cannot be pleaded at the day of judgment, ii. 
 122—Christ the fore-ordained Saviour before creation, ii. 
 140—Not only of persons, but of gifts and graces, ii. 341 
 —Illustrated by the animals saved in the ark, ii. 467— 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 And departing from iniquity inseparable, ii. 511—To 
 holiness of life, ii. 512, and note—As Jacob or one of a 
 thousand, ii. 551—And reprobation in juxtaposition —See 
 Map of salvation, iii. 336. 
 
 Emmanuel visited, iii. 143,230—Engages to re-conquer Man- 
 soul, iii. 266, 285—His livery to be worn daily, iii. 323— 
 Departs from Mansoul, his four warnings, iii. 326—Gra¬ 
 cious speech to Mansoul—His charge to keep their liveries 
 white and clean, iii. 370. 
 
 * Emmanuel's land seen from palace called Beautiful, iii, 111. 
 Emblems: The world an emblem of hell—The church of 
 
 heaven, ii. 431—By Bunyan in verse first published as a 
 book for boys and girls, iii. 746. 
 
 * Enchanted ground, pilgrims warned of, iii. 145—Pass it, 
 
 iii. 153, 214, 235. 
 
 Enemies to the soul’s salvation, i. 340. 
 
 Entrances to Mansoul, Ear-gate, Eye-gate, Mouth-gate, Nose- 
 gate, and Feel-gate, iii. 256. 
 
 Envy, parent of hideous and prodigious wickednesses, iii. 647. 
 
 * Error, the hill and its fearful sight, iii. 144. 
 
 Errors and delusions, why permitted, ii. 177. 
 
 Eternal life: Who may have it, and upon what terms, i. 292 
 —Not for wages or money, i. 292—In Christ promised 
 before creation, i. 584. 
 
 * Ethiopian , attempt to wash him white by Fool and Want- 
 
 wit, iii. 231. 
 
 * Evangelist instructs Christian, iii. 90, 94—And Faithful 
 
 iii. 126. 
 
 Evangelists inferior to apostles, but above pastors, ii. 511. 
 Evidences for heaven forfeited by foul offences, i. 188. 
 
 Evil conscience the messenger of death, ii. 434—Overcome 
 with good, instances of, ii. 719. 
 
 Evil thoughts , significant names of Diabolonians, who infested 
 Mansoul and were convicted, iii, 369—Live-by-feeling and 
 Legal-life; they die in prison, but Unbelief, a nimble jack, 
 escapes, iii. 370. 
 
 * Examination at the wicket-gate, iii. 96, 179—At the inter¬ 
 
 preter’s house, iii. 98,184—At the house called Beautiful, 
 iii. 107, 197—At heaven’s gate, iii. 165. 
 
 Example of a godly man, if evil, causes awful mischief, i. 740. 
 Exorcism , singular mode of, iii. 605. 
 
 * Experience , a shepherd, iii. 144, 232. 
 
 Experience , or the internal conflict, i. 252—Infidel thoughts, 
 
 i. 353 of saints sometimes dark in the dying hour, i. 455 
 —Happy experience of the Christian, i. 548—Lightning 
 without thunder in some cases tends to wantonness, i. 655 
 
 Soul’s conflict with Satan, i. 661—Rich and deep, ii. 6, 
 
 7 Divers, ii. 12, and note—To be carefully examined, 
 
 ii. 480 * Narrated by Christian, iii. 107—Narrated by 
 Faithful, iii. 117—By Hopeful, iii. 153—*Comfort may 
 depend upon false hopes, iii. 157—Narrated by Mercy, iii. 
 188—Of Mr. Fearing, iii. 212—By Feeblemind, iii. 221 
 —By Valiant-for-truth, hi. 233—By Standfast, iii. 238. 
 
 Extortion , or making a prey of others, its wickedness, iii. 637. 
 Ezekiel's vision explained, iii. 407. 
 
 F. 
 
 * Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, three robbers, iii. 147. 
 
 Faith not shown by working miracles, i. 12—And repent¬ 
 ance essential, i. 70—Wild faith is presumption, i. 92_ 
 
 It helps at a pinch—The eye, the mouth, the hand of the 
 soul, i. 97—At times a sore labour, i. 189—A duty, i. 230 
 —Power of hell bent against it, i. 231—And doubting may 
 live together, i. 288—Opposed by unbelief in twenty-five 
 ways, i. 293—Sets the crown upon the head of grace, i. 
 310—With its neck turned behind, i. 326, and note—To 
 be sought, i. 328 To be lived by, i. 329—To be made a 
 matter of conscience, i. 330—Three things in faith dis¬ 
 pleasing to the wicked one—And unbelief curiously con¬ 
 trasted, i. 331—Essential to every step to salvation, i. 339; 
 n. 154—Ten signs of saving faith, i. 385—The source of 
 gospel obedience, i. 518—Faith is not the Saviour, i. 519 
 
 A variety of faiths, i. 540—The mother grace, from her 
 comes hope, and charity from both, i. 578—A source of 
 misery or happiness, ii. 36—Is the gift of God, ii. 134— 
 hive advantages, ii. 168—Motive is love to God and the 
 brethren—Leads to Christ for help in the battle, ii. 253_ 
 
 Must be living faith—Justifying faith, ii. 314—Comes 
 before and produces good works, ii. 316—Five of its fruits, 
 ii. 326—Invisible, only to be seen in its fruits, ii. 507—- 
 And in all good works, ii. 550—Produces hope and re¬ 
 pentance, ii. 600—In Christ a part of God’s worship, ii. 
 682—Objects of, must be believed—Thou must be born 
 twice before thou canst truly believe once, ii. 683—Of 
 faiths that are unprofitable, ii. 684—*Its nature, iii. 155 
 —-'^Difference between false and justifying faith—The 
 faith of Ignorance, iii. 158—The Lord-Lieutenant for 
 Emmanuel over Mansoul, iii. 355. 
 
 * Faithful, the pilgrim, passes palace called Beautiful without 
 entering, iii. Ill—Christian overtakes him, iii. 116—Be¬ 
 guiled by Talkative, iii. 122—Forewarned of his martyr¬ 
 dom, iii. 126—His sufferings and death, iii. 128. 
 
 Faithful reproof, exciting malice and hatred, iii. 591. 
 
 Fall of man: Nature and grace at variance, ii. 14—Spiri¬ 
 tualized, ii. 428—Allegorically represented, iii. 259—- 
 Satan’s mode of fortifying Mansoul for himself, iii. 260—- 
 Gradations from incredulity to atheism, iii. 264. 
 
 Falling from knowledge, how, and why, i. 392. 
 
 False Christs, how to be known, ii. 169. 
 
 Famine —Hunger making his last meal of a man, i. 248. 
 
 Fasting and fast days, i. 41 ; iii. 328, 340—Pharisees fast 
 twice a-week [query, Wednesday and Friday], ii. 224. 
 
 Fathers —Bible preferred to them and to all authors, iii. 398. 
 
 Fear of God: Works reverence and union to God, i. 14— 
 Asa. father, how distinguished from his fear as the judge, 
 i. 437—The salt that seasons every duty, i. 438, 477— 
 Divers kinds—Called anguish, i. 445—Ungodly fear of 
 God, how known, i. 446, 451,452, 483—Prevents a simple 
 reliance on Christ, i. 447—Godly fear which lasteth not 
 —Tends to cursed additions to the Bible, i. 448—From 
 Satan, by groundless confidence and ungrounded fears—- 
 the Devil’s paws to be seen in it; leads men to hide 
 their Lord’s talent, i. 452—Devil’s faith produces the 
 Devil’s fear, i. 460—What it flows from, and what flows 
 from it, i. 462—However small or young, greatly blessed, 
 i. 472—The darling grace—Motives to fear God, i. 479— 
 Gives a princely, mighty, invincible spirit, i. 480—Means 
 of growth, i. 483—Hinderances, i. 485—Degrees—The 
 pulse of the soul, i. 489—Encouragements to it, most ho¬ 
 nourable and rich, i. 490 —Teaches to pray without book, 
 i. 628—Described, iii. 105,159, 215, 741. 
 
 Fear of man where there is no fear of God—Although re¬ 
 minded of death and judgment, i. 705—How it works, 
 
 i. 726—^Ungodly fear of man, iii. 160. 
 
 * Fearing, a timid pilgrim, his troubles, iii. 212—Afraid to 
 
 knock at the gate, iii. 213—His noble bearing at Vanity 
 Fair; his triumphant death, iii. 214. 
 
 Fears of the wicked, i. 745. 
 
 * Feeble-mind rescued from Slay-good, iii. 221—His happy 
 
 death, iii. 242. 
 
 Feel-gate, the weakest part of Mansoul, iii. 350. 
 
 Filth, Mr., an odious, nasty, lascivious piece of beastliness, 
 
 iii. 267. 
 
 Final perseverance of the saints, i. 22 [No. 134], 539, 552— 
 If one of his sheep be lost, Christ and his Father are over¬ 
 thrown, i. 234—Proved from the book of life, iii. 449. 
 
 *Fire burning, although water is thrown on it, iii. 100. 
 
 Flaming sword kills all who attempt to re-enter Paradise by 
 Adam’s holiness, ii. 299. 
 
 * Flatterer —Pilgrims warned of him, iii. 145—They fall into 
 
 his net, iii. 151. 
 
 Flood brought on by mixing the world and the church, 
 
 ii. 460, 463—Typical of the day of judgment, ii. 471 — 
 Spiritualized, ii. 473—A type of persecuting times, ii. 476. 
 
 Flowers in God’s garden, all double, i. 596. 
 
 Folly of sinners; man danceth about Hell’s mouth, ii. 111. 
 
 Fool: The greatest is he who neglects salvation, i. 141 — 
 Six signs of a, i. 142. 
 
 Forehead, name of God in the; its meaning, iii. 459, 103. 
 
 Forget-good, the recorder, put in Mansoul by Diabolus, iii. 
 264, 276. 
 
 * Forgetful-green, the battle-ground with Apollyon, iii. 207. 
 
 * Formalist and Hypocrisy before the wicket-gate ; enter not 
 
 by the gate, iii. 103—To avoid the hill Difficulty, take the 
 way of Danger and Destruction, and perish, iii. 104. 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 777 
 
 Fornication , its awful consequences, iii. 611. 612. 
 
 Foster , a persecuting justice of Bedford, i. 52. 
 
 Four Last Things. See vol. iii., p. 726 :— 
 
 Death —Death, as a king, overcomes all, iii. 726—Irre¬ 
 sistible; we must drink with death—Who it is he can¬ 
 not kill, iii. 727—The Christain raised again, when, 
 death hath no more power, iii. 728—The second death, 
 iii. 734.—See Death. 
 
 JUdgment—A ppointed to take place after death—Christ, 
 by God’s appointment, to be the Judge, iii. 728—All 
 thoughts, words, and actions, will be brought into judg¬ 
 ment—No hiding from the great Judge at that day, iii. 
 729—Great honour to the righteous after the judgment, 
 but misery to the wicked, iii. 730. See Judgment-day. 
 Heaven—A poetic description of the glory of,'iii. 730— 
 The presence of the Eternal God there will give life 
 —Great mysteries will be seen there, iii. 731—Saints 
 there each wear a badge of glory, iii. 732—Eternal dura¬ 
 tion of, iii. 733. See Heaven. 
 
 IIeet,—T he state of those that perish, poetically described, 
 iii. 733—A sea of burning brimstone, iii. 734—Memory 
 one of hell’s torments, iii. 735—Eternity of hell’s tor¬ 
 ments, iii. 737. See Hell. 
 
 Fourjpence-halfpennies —A silver coin, i. 36; iii. 739, and note. 
 
 Fraudulent bankruptcy, how brought about, and its villany, 
 iii. 628—Weights, too heavy or too light, tried by the 
 Bible, iii. 633, 634. 
 
 Free-will follows after salvation, but not in God’s way, ii. 241 
 —Its liberty, ii. 312. 
 
 Fruitless professor like a blinking candle when God appears 
 as a mighty wind, ii. 572—The blinking candle we do 
 much despise, iii. 751, 752. 
 
 Fruits of forgiveness, iii. 305. 
 
 Fundamentals and secondary fundamentals, ii. 319. 
 
 Future rewards and punisliments, ii. 594. 
 
 G. 
 
 *Gaius entertains the pilgrims, iii. 218—The curious dishes, 
 iii. 219—Poetic riddles, iii. 220—Tells a story worth the 
 hearing, iii. 220. 
 
 Garden of Eden —Why Adam was turned out, ii. 441. 
 
 Gate —Christ the, i. 366—No little pinching wicket, i. 366 
 —Wide enough for all the lovers of Christ, i. 366—Of 
 Paradise, wide enough for Adam to go out, but too strait 
 for him to enter in, i. 366—Why strait, i. 367—The guard 
 to keep out the polluted in sin, as well profane’as professor, 
 i. 367—The law, i. 367—The angels that guard, i. 367- 
 Porters at the, i. 367—Of Temple wide enough for clean 
 beasts, but not for the unclean, i. 376—To turn away 
 from, like being turned off the ladder, i. 376—Of Heaven 
 wide enough to admit the naked sinner, but not with the 
 world upon his back, iii. 475. 
 
 Genesis —An exposition on chapters i. to xi., ii. 414. 
 
 * Giants —Pagan and Pope, iii. 116—Despair and Diffidence, 
 iii. 140, 229—Grim or Bloody Man, iii. 195—Maul the 
 sophist, iii. 210—Slaygood, iii. 221. 
 
 Gifford , John, Mr. Bunyan’s pastor,f some account of, i. 15, 
 20; iii. 11—Ilis account of Bunyan’s early ministry, iii. 
 672. 
 
 Glory of saints as brides of Christ, ii. 30—^Glimpses of 
 eternal glory, iii. 145, 161. 
 
 * Gluttony seldom repented of, i. 474. 
 
 God — Trinity in Unity a weighty subject, with prepara¬ 
 tions or rules for its study, ii. 386, 387, 594—Of persons 
 in the Godhead, ii. 415 — Absurdities that flow from 
 denying the, ii. 416—Tlie foundation of the truth, iii. 520. 
 — See Map of salvation, iii. 336. 
 
 God —Unchangeable, i. 28—A source of terror,i. 29, 30—No 
 respecter of persons, i. 30—Our thoughts known to, i. 37 
 —Biding post with his gospel, i. 84—His goodness, his 
 glory, i. 210—Ilis patience to sinners, i. 351—To approach 
 him boldly, what it is, i. 360—Omniscience of, i. 438— 
 His Presence dreadful, i. 438—Even when in his robes of 
 
 t Supposed to be represented by Evangelist, in the Pilgrim. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 salvation, i. 439—The brightness of Ins glory covers us 
 with the shadow of death, i. 439—His Name expresses his 
 nature, i. 440_—How described in Scripture, i. 457—Ilis 
 love, what it is, i. 539—The believer’s portion and hope, 
 i. 585—The source of all happiness, i. 586 —Mercy of, how 
 it is named, i. 595—Is manifold, there is no single flower 
 in God’s garden, i. 596—Its operations, i. 598—Condescen¬ 
 sion and love, i. 603—His thrones, i. 642; in heaven, on 
 earth, of judgment, of glory, of grace, upon which only 
 prayer can be received, i. 643—His Commands imperative, 
 
 i. 732—Decrees unalterable and unchangeable, i. 771— 
 Unsearchable, broader than all sins, rage of men, or devils, 
 
 ii. 4—Arm reaches to the belly of hell, ii. 5—Length, a 
 long arm to reach all, ii. 5—Deeper than hell, ii. 6—Lower 
 than the deepest deep, ii. 6 —Higher than all giants or walls, 
 ii. 8 —His greatness our safety and glory, ii. 14—Fulness 
 filling his saints, who sweeten the churches, ii. 35—Able 
 to do more than we think, ii. 37—Seen in his works by 
 carnal eyes, ii. 193—Perfections infinite, ii. 414—His com¬ 
 mands, our sole rule in worship, ii. 465—Holy and just, 
 yet gracious, through the Redeemer, ii. 594—One to the 
 Christian, ii. 676—His attributes, ii. 676—How known, 
 ii. 676—False notions of, ii. 680—The only keeper of our 
 souls, ii. 695—Able to keep us, ii. 699-701—Will of, his 
 law and order, ii. 704—Our Creator our consolation, ii. 731 
 —His faithfulness our preservation, ii. 734—Makes the 
 Christians’ bed, i. 741—Christ the Lamb and God have 
 one throne, iii. 453. 
 
 God —The Father—G iveth his elect to the Son, who saveth 
 them, i. 243—Called “ Our Father,” to familiarize his 
 children to him, i. 243—Giveth his people to his Son, i. 
 244—Import of this word giving, i. 244—His intent in 
 giving, i. 245—Gives and Christ saves two distinct per¬ 
 sons, i. 274. 
 
 God — Tiie Son —His sufficiency incomprehensible, i. 87—• 
 Has bags of mercy yet unsealed, i. 98—The only Jacob’s 
 ladder to heaven, i. 103—His ability our safety, i. 211— 
 All men must be saved or damned by, i. 231—Son’s re¬ 
 ception of the Father’s gift, i. 246—The extent of his 
 riches, i. 344—IIow poor he made himself to save sin¬ 
 ners, i. 345—Who he is: the seed of David, by promise ; 
 the Wonderful, i. 393—The promised Messiah, i. 393—• 
 Promised to every age, i. 394—A Saviour; what it means, 
 i. 395—His names in the promises, i. 395—Promised by 
 types, i. 396—All fulfilled in him, i. 397; ii. 144—God with 
 us, i. 405—His name ‘ Jesus,’which the devils hate and 
 tremble at, angels and saints bow the head, i. 419—Why 
 he is precious, i. 435—The surety of the Covenant, i. 525 
 —The surety being bound, the debtor is free, i. 526— 
 The messenger of the Covenant, i. 526—His message, 
 
 i. 527-Must be ale our salvation, or we perish, i. 555 
 
 —The great deliverer, i. 710—The only soul-physician, 
 
 i. 711—The rounds of the ladder to heaven: the power of 
 God, merits of Christ, help of angels, a good conscience ; 
 every round fitly placed, ii. 9, 10—His divinity, ii. 15, 16, 
 24—His miracles of mercy, ii. 146—Co-equal with the 
 Father, ii. 148—The Creator, ii. 151—Alone can enable 
 man to call God Father, ii. 192—His design more than 
 to reproduce man’s original righteousness, ii. 291—His 
 holiness imputed to us superior to Adam’s, ii. 292, 307, 
 427—Being infinite and eternal, ii. 300—The high God 
 and the Redeemer, ii. 595—The mountain on which alone 
 we see over mighty enemies, iii. 400—The foundation upon 
 which the Church is fitly framed, iii. 434. 
 
 God —The Holy Spirit — His graces, i. 346 — Must 
 help our infirmities, or all our prayers are vain, i. 426, 
 628—All other prayers abominable to God—Alone can 
 show us the way to God, i. 629—His influence essential 
 to ascend, by Christ, to heaven, ii. 10—The Third Person 
 in the Trinity, ii. 30—His comforting influences, iii. 138 
 —*His proverbs by the Interpreter, iii. 187—The Holy 
 Spirit and conscience the ministers in Mansoul, iii. 320. 
 
 Godly-man ill used by Prejudice, iii. 230. 
 
 Godly men may, by their conduct, send many to everlast¬ 
 ing burnings, i. 740—Afraid of their own righteousness, 
 
 ii. 242—Instances, ii. 243. 
 
 Godly sorrow, its operation, i. 693. 
 
 93 
 
778 
 
 TIIE INDEX. 
 
 Gods or objects of worship many, but to the Christian ono 
 only, ii. 676. 
 
 Gold, pure, a figure of spiritual riches, beauty, and health, 
 iii. 430—Made pure by heat, so the saints by persecution, 
 iii. 431—As it were transparent glass, its meaning, iii. 438. 
 
 * Good-confidence, the town of Great Grace, iii. 147. 
 
 Good-deed rejected, and Wet-eyes and Desires-awake chosen 
 
 to be messengers for peace to Emmanuel, iii. 300. 
 
 Good news for the vilest of men, i. 67. 
 
 Good thoughts compared to blossoms, iii. 756. 
 
 * Good-will, keeper of the wicket-gate, iii. 96, 179, 213, 222. 
 
 Good worls, motives to, i. 731; ii. 555—The most durable 
 
 riches, i. 735—rewarded in heaven, i. 737—The fruits of 
 righteousness by Jesus Christ, ii. 250—Flowing from 
 faith, ii. 315, 549—Some costly, others cost nothing, ii. 
 508—David, Nathan, Uzza, and Peter, deceived as to, 
 ii. 553—Authorized by the Word—Martha misplaced 
 them, ii. 554—In the family, ii. 555—To be carefully 
 maintained, ii. 570. 
 
 Gospel, the, a savour of life or of death, i. 242—Why so 
 apparently unsuccessful, ii. 313. 
 
 Gospellers, meaning of the term, i. 106, 238, 507, and note 
 —Carnal, crawling like locusts and maggots, ii. 429. 
 
 Grace , larger than sin, i. 24—Slighted, an intolerable recol¬ 
 lection in eternity, i. 69—In a great sinner shines, i. 83— 
 What it is, i. 342—Essential to salvation, as it is in the 
 Father, i. 343—In the Son, i. 344—And in the Spirit, i. 
 
 346— Flows from the Father in ten, from the Son in thirty- 
 six, and from the Holy Ghost in fifteen respects, i. 343- 
 
 347— Its unspeakable riches, that make angels wonder, 
 and devils astonished, i. 346—Breaks the heart with joy, 
 i. 352, 358—The only means of salvation, i. 354—No 
 respecter of persons, i. 356—Saved Lot, but not his wife; 
 for Peter, but not for Judas, i. 357, 374—An antidote 
 against all delusions—A sin-killing doctrine, i. 358—Seek 
 to advance it in the heart and life—A sea, a never-failing 
 fountain, i. o59—To be sought at a God of grace, upon 
 a throne of grace, in the name of a gracious Christ, aided 
 by the Spirit of grace, i. 360—Dangerous to the graceless, 
 i. 423—Meaning of the word, i. 644—Reigns over the 
 
 devil, death, sin, hell, and the grave, for ever, i. 646_ 
 
 Pure and clear as crystal, i. 653—New supplies essential 
 in every time of need, i. 679—What it should teach us, i. 
 680—Its tendency to bring forth fruit, i. 730—Can never 
 be destroyed, i. 769—Humbles—Does not exempt from 
 temptations—The more grace the more trials, i. 770—A 
 dram of it worth all the world, ii. 15—When improved, 
 increases, ii. 547—How nourished, iii. 100—In the heart, 
 how. discovered^ iii. 124—Must be improved, as well as 
 received, iii. 32o—Growth in, imperceptible at times, iii. 
 452, and note—Never makes man proud, wanton, or care¬ 
 less, iii. 554—How to be obtained, iii. 741. 
 
 * Graceless —Christian’s name before conversion, iii. 106—A 
 town, two miles from Honesty, iii. 160. 
 
 Graces— How to try, i. 371. 
 
 Gradations in piety and wickedness, i. 744. 
 
 Grave —The house and bed for all living, i. 221. 
 
 * Great Grace —The king’s champion, iii. 147—His mighty 
 Son, iii. 230. 
 
 * Great Heart, the pilgrims’ guide and protector, iii. 190, &c. 
 
 Greek, knowledge of, not essential, i. 53. 
 
 * Gripeman, a schoolmaster at Love-gain, in the north, iii. 
 
 n. 
 
 Hard commands of God must be obeyed, i. 734. 
 
 Heart, seven advantages of a tender, i. 7, 12—Corrupt, i. 50 
 —Unweldable, but by Christ, i. 216—Evil, i. 316—Six 
 reasons why it rejectetli the gospel, i. 333—Exceedingly 
 sinful M anderings of that of the saints, daily, require 
 millions of pardons, i. 353—Tender, a fit place for grace 
 to thrive in—How to soften it, i. 486—Broken, God will 
 not despise, known by sighs, tears, and groans, i. 689— 
 Lightly broken, proved to be an excellent heart—God’s 
 jewel—Entitled to the cordial of heaven—An object of 
 salvation—God bindeth it up—What it is, i. 690, 691, 
 
 692—By nature, described in ten particulars, i. 693— 
 God’s mode of breaking, i. 693, 694, 787—God only can 
 break, by His hammer and fire, i. 693, 707—How it is 
 made contented, i. 694—Contrite, its meanings and signs, 
 i. 695, 696—Broken, feels its poverty, and depends on 
 
 , Christ—To what it is compared, i. 700—Broken, the ne¬ 
 cessity of a—Trembles at the word, i. 702—Unbroken, 
 the devil’s fortress, i. 703—Must be ripped up by convic¬ 
 tions, i. 704—Nothing will break but violence, i. 705—• 
 Reasons why it must be broken—Why God esteems it, 
 nine reasons, i. 709—How to keep it tender, i. 713—Must 
 be broken, to break its league with hell—Broken, sorrow¬ 
 ful on earth, but joyful in heaven, i. 715—How to judge 
 whether it is broken, i. 716—Better than all sacrifice, i. 
 720—Of the wicked, widest downward, i. 767—Searched 
 by God, who cannot be deceived, iii. 570. 
 
 Heaven —Soul, in heaven, will be filled with all the bliss it 
 can hold, i. 341—Its seven names, its joys, and company, 
 i. 342, 527—The kingdom of—Its entrance a gate ; open 
 to the wise, but shut to the foolish virgins; two gates, 
 one of faith to heaven on earth, and another to the very 
 heavens above, i. 365—Christ’s house, into which Paul 
 was caught, i. 366—Heavenly things more glorious than 
 the types, i. 375, 644—Pleas to enter heaven that will be 
 rejected, i. 376—All will think it desirable at the end of 
 the world, i. 378—Few will possess it, i. 379—The eternal 
 inheritance of saints in Christ, i. 428—On earth—first- 
 fruits of that above — Divine nature communicated off 
 earth—human received into heaven, i. 553—Some there 
 glorious harpers who were worse than thyself, i. 654— 
 And as they suffered for Christ, the greater the crown, 
 i. 725—Four sorts of people desire heaven, i. 764— 
 Heaven, high, Christ can reach it, Elijah by his chariot, 
 but how shall poor I ? ii. 9—A sight of, dazed Saul, 
 rejoiced Stephen, ii. 12—The believer in heaven, while 
 on earth, ii. 22.—A sense of pardon will swalloW up 
 the soul in love, ii. 100—In proportion to having enjoyed 
 heaven upon earth, ii. 102—Eternity of heaven’s joys 
 and hell’s torments, ii. 127, 138 ; iii. 733—Not to be 
 earned at our fingers’ ends, ii. 132—*Its enjoyments, 
 iii. 164—^Personal identity in, iii. 165, 234—Wishing 
 and praying for it useless, unless it is run for—run means 
 to fly, to press, to persevere, iii. 381—Race long and 
 wearisome; many run, but few obtain, iii. 382—Provoca¬ 
 tions to run with the foremost, iii. 394—Heaven and hell 
 separated by a great gulf, iii. 693—What this gulf is, 
 iii. 694. 
 
 Heavenly footman, the, or a description of the man that gets 
 to heaven, iii. 375—Nine directions how to run, iii. 383— 
 Nine motives to urge our speed, iii. 389—Many run who 
 never entered the way, iii. 391. 
 
 Hebrew names, and their meanings, ii. 496. 
 
 * Heedless and Mr. Too-bold in a fatal sleep, iii. 237. 
 
 Heights of fallen angels, and heights in us to plague us, ii. 8. 
 
 Heights and depths between the convert and heaven, i. 340. 
 
 Hell: One hour there burns out all the enjoyments of sin in 
 the world, i. 14—Torments described, i. 120, 136, 137, 
 148, 220, 520, 575; ii. 108, 126—Its great sting, i. 150 
 —Drink tears mixed with burning brimstone, i. 230 — How 
 called, i. 272—An awful reality, i. 375; iii. 592—Pre¬ 
 pared of old, ii. 106—Death ever feeding on the soul, ii. 
 107—Emblems or types of, ii. Ill—Recollection of lost 
 means of grace, ii. 123—Degrees of torment, the smallest 
 insupportable, ii. 128—*Hell’s mouth, iii. 115—*Byway 
 to hell, iii. 145, 166, 231, 235—Eternity of hell torments 
 awfully described, iii. 379, 684, 694, 702, 723—Torments 
 increased by reflection, iii. 596—A few sighs from, or the 
 groans of a damned soul, iii. 666—Receives the wicked at 
 death—Hell not in this life, iii. 681—Awful description, 
 iii. 682—Nature of hell torments, iii. 683—The damned 
 earnest for deliverance, but in vain, iii. 687—Why the 
 tongue to be cooled more than other members, iii. 689— 
 Scalding-hot memory—A scalding-hot remembrance of 
 thy sins, iii. 690—Sins press like blood-hounds, iii. 694— 
 Swimming in burning brimstone, iii. 703—Its aggrava¬ 
 tions, iii. 704. 
 
 *Heman and Hezekiah, their conflict iii. 149. 
 
 § • 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 770 
 
 *Hen and chickens illustrate the Christian’s call, iii. 1S6. 
 
 Herbert's (George) poems quoted, ii. 390. 
 
 Heresy, reason why it is permitted, ii. 131. 
 
 Heretics : Christians called, iii. 700. 
 
 High priest and his oflice, iii. 505. 
 
 *Hold-the- World, Mr., iii. 133—His sophistry exposed, iii. 
 
 135. 
 
 Holiday saints shut out of the strait gate, i. 377. 
 
 Holiness, gospel, flows from faith and tends to prayer, i. 613, 
 614—Importance of seeing its beauty, i. 732—Three 
 things essential—the Holy Ghost, faith, and a new heart, 
 
 ii. 288—And liberty are joined together, ii. 705. 
 
 Holy City , the, or New Jerusalem unfolded, iii. 395—A 
 heavenly mystery, hid from the wise and prudent, iii. 397 
 —Dedicated to the godly, the learned, the captious, and to 
 the Mother of Harlots, iii. 397, 398, 399—The vision of, 
 to John—The gospel church released from captivity, iii. 
 401—Why the church is called a city, iii. 402—It de¬ 
 scends out of heaven from God, iii. 403—It has the glory 
 of God, iii. 404—The light of this city, iii. 407—God, its 
 builder, iii. 408—Its happiness, iii. 409—To call her a 
 rebellious city, are lying words, iii. 410—Its walls and 
 defences, iii. 411—The gates of the city, iii. 412—At 
 the gates twelve angels, iii. 413—Twelve foundations, iii. 
 416—What is meant by the golden reed and measuring line, 
 
 iii. 419—Its glory, a wall of jasper, iii. 427—City, pure 
 gold, iii. 430—The glory of the gates of, iii. 435—Glory 
 of the street of, iii. 436—Has no temple, iii. 439—Needs 
 no sun nor moon, iii. 440—The inhabitants of, iii. 443— 
 Secure, with open gates, iii. 446—The glory and honour 
 of the nations brought into it, iii. 447—None but visible 
 saints shall enter, iii. 448—Its provisions and maintenance 
 —Its drink, the river of life, iii. 450—Pure as crystal, iii. 
 451—Where it goes, iii. 452—Whence it came—Its food, 
 Christ, the tree of life, iii. 453—Perfuming tree, no for¬ 
 bidden tree of knowledge in, iii. 454—Fruits for body, 
 and soul, babes, and strong men, iii. 455—Abundance of 
 food, iii. 456—The ease, peace, and tranquillity of, iii. 457 
 —Every face shall shine, and all be known—Blessed is 
 he that shall see the golden world, iii. 459. 
 
 Holy life, the beauty of Christianity, ii. 511. 
 
 Holy ivalking yields blessed fruits in this life, i. 739. 
 
 Holy war , a relation of the, iii. 254. 
 
 Holy water, the real, as distinguished from the Popish 
 quackery, iii. 558, and note. 
 
 * Honest, Mr., an old pilgrim, iii. 211. 
 
 Hope, all through grace, i. 357—Of Israel encouraged—To 
 hope without faith, is to see without eyes, i. 577—The 
 cable to our anchor—Nine distinctions between the work 
 of faith and hope, i. 578—Objects of, unutterably great, 
 i. 579—Hope against hope—Bears up the sufferer and 
 martyr—Encouragements to, i. 582—Ensures the enjoy¬ 
 ment of the thing hoped for—Its motive, faith ; its means, 
 the Word ; its earnest, Christ in us, i. 583—Who it is that 
 has hope, i. 586—Prisoners of, i. 588—Requires daily 
 exercise, i. 590—A head and governing grace—Instances, 
 i. 591—Only that of Israel glad, i. 592—*A golden an¬ 
 chor given to Christiana, iii. 204. 
 
 * Hopeful joins Christian, iii. 132—Led by him to Doubting 
 
 Castle, iii. 139—Dissuades Christian from suicide, iii. 141 
 —Narrates his experience, iii. 153—Assists Christian in 
 passing the river, iii. 164. 
 
 * House for the lambs and babes, iii. 228. 
 
 House of the Forest of Lebanon, iii. 510—Distinct from the 
 temple, iii. 512—-The house in the forest a type of the 
 church under persecution, iii. 513, 522—Of the largeness 
 of this house, iii. 515—A eastleor stronghold, iii. 516—Its 
 doors, posts, and windows, iii. 522—Military material, iii. 
 525—Only defensive armour, iii. 526—Cups of bitterness 
 —Of sweetness, and holy enjoyment, iii. 530. 
 
 Hucksters, injurious to the poor, iii. 638. 
 
 Humble self-abasement aspires to the highest blessings—Par¬ 
 don of sin, ii. 266—Station more blessed than the world is 
 aware of, iii. 631. 
 
 Humiliation, of Christ, infinite as His glory, ii. 19. 
 
 * Humiliation, Valley of, its difficult descent, iii. Ill, 205— 
 
 Pillar of warning—Beautified with lilies—The shepherd- 
 
 boy and his song, iii. 206—Our Lord’s country-house, iii. 
 207—Forgetful Green, where Christian fought Apollyon, 
 iii. 207, 208. 
 
 Humility, a sign of a Contrite heart, i. 698—The convinced 
 sinner sees himself a filthy, leprous, polluted, sinful bit of 
 carrion, ii. 269—To see God a consuming fire, man stubble 
 fully dry ; stands afar off; ii. 269, 272—Leaves room for 
 the Mediator, ii. 270—Four remarkable instances of, ii. 
 524—Arising from seeing the beauty of fellow-pilgrims, 
 iii. 190—There is dirt in tears, and filthiness in prayers, 
 iii. 301. 
 
 Hunger making his last meal of the lepers, i. 248. 
 
 Husband, wife, or child, little in comparison with salvation, 
 i. 16. 
 
 Ilymeneus and Philetus, fatal error of, as to the resurrection 
 of the body, iii. 144. 
 
 Hypocrisy made Bunyan tremble even when unconverted, i. 
 6—To seek justification by the law, i. 315—A spreading 
 leprosy, ii. 538—Five helps against it, ii. 539—Drawn to 
 the life, iii. 618. 
 
 * Hypocrisy and Formality climb over the wall, iii. 103— 
 
 They perish, iii. 104. 
 
 Hypocrites, although tricked out, and trimmed up with what 
 bravery they can, are hypocrites still, i. 374—Professors, 
 who want grace, i. 382—Feigned holiness, demure con¬ 
 duct, and golden names, i. 392—A stumbling-block, i. 482 
 —Severely reproved, i. 490—Hope perishes—Many pro¬ 
 fessors who will come short of heaven, ii. 120—And 
 Pharisees trust in themselves, ii. 227—See no need of 
 mercy, ii. 237—Like painted fire, flowers, or trees, ii. 550 
 —*To cry out against sin no proof that it is hated, iii. 123 
 —^Religion for the world or the bag, iii. 135—*Tree 
 rotten at heart an emblem of—Fit tinder for the devil’s 
 tinder-box, iii. 187 — Satan’s brood, creeping things, 
 wooden and earthen professors, iii. 564—Injure the godly, 
 iii. 574—Like a frog, iii. 758. 
 
 I. 
 
 “ I say unto you," words of solemn import, i. 373—From 
 God, i. 374. 
 
 *Idle life, one of the slanders on professors, iii. 700. 
 
 Idleness, dangerous; watchfulness profitable, i. 736. 
 
 Idolatry, what it is, i. 586. 
 
 * Ignorance born in the country of Conceit—entered not by 
 
 the gate—His hope—Shows himself a fool—Method of 
 dealing with, iii. 146—Comes to the river—Ferried over 
 by Vain-hopc—Wants a certificate—His end, iii. 166. 
 
 * IU-favoured ones of Christiana’s dream, iii. 173—Assault 
 her, iii. 182—Make her cautious, iii. 188. 
 
 * Ill-will pelts Godly-man, iii. 230. 
 
 Illpause, his stinking breath kills Innocency, iii. 260. 
 
 Image of God, defaced in the heart, and that of the Devil 
 set up in its place, ii. 110; iii. 263. 
 
 * Immanuel's land seen from Mount Beautiful, iii. 111. 
 Immorality produces misery here and hereafter, iii. 756. 
 Immortality of soul and body, iii. 726. 
 
 Impenitent, their awful state, i. 429. 
 
 Impiety living in Drunkard’s-row, at Rascal-lane, iii. 311. 
 Imputed righteousness, justification by, or no w r ay to heaven 
 but by Jesus Christ—A clear, quit, free, and saved condi¬ 
 tion, in the approbation of God’s holy law, i. 301—As 
 actions flow from faith, they are justified—Strictly limited 
 to that of Christ—By Christ’s obedience to the law, the 
 saints stand spotless in God’s sight; He is our righteous¬ 
 ness, i. 302—Importance of the doctrine—Men are justi¬ 
 fied while sinners in themselves, i. 303, 314, 326—By the 
 resurrection of Christ, i. 305—All our works, tainted by 
 sin, justify not, i. 308—Justification requires perfect 
 righteousness—Illustrated by the types, i. 311—Adam’s 
 fig-leaf soon fades—Abel’s sacrifice, a fruit of, i. 311— 
 Joshua, accompanied by the non-imputation of sin, i. 312 
 —Without the law—Essential, i. 324, 514, 618; ii. 308, 
 317; iii. 739, 741—Inherent only in Christ, i. 325—Denied 
 by some, i. 326—Alone to be relied on, ii. 229—Is unto 
 justification, ii. 248—The act of God, ii. 249—Before 
 
780 
 
 THE INDEX. 
 
 sanctification, ii. 251—Typified by the coats of skins, ii. 
 440—By the work of the Holy Spirit, ii. 597. 
 
 Incantation for drawing out the devil, very strange, iii. 605. 
 Index Expur gator ius, or prohibited books in family, ii. 556. 
 
 * Indictment of the pilgrims at Vanity Fair, iii. 129. 
 Indwelling sin , the Diabolonians in regenerate Mansoul, iii. 
 
 321—Operates without example, iii. 596. 
 
 Infallibility, merely human, a pretence, ii. 76, and note— 
 Of the apostles the power of the keys, iii. 417. 
 
 Infants , salvation of those who die, ii. 710, and note. 
 Informers , the miseries of two, their awful death, iii. 625. * 
 Iniquity makes men bond-slaves, seven proofs—Especially 
 hurtful to the Christian, ii. 512—Feeds him with gravel, 
 gall, wormwood, and the wine of astonishment, ii. 513— 
 Two sorts, inherent and apart—Departing from, what it 
 is, ii. 515—To withdraw the affections—To withdraw 
 from himself—Not from fear of punishment, ii. 516-—A 
 life’s work—Nine helps, ii. 517—Four criterions of, ii. 
 518—Four urgent arguments, ii. 526—Fourteen helps to 
 depart from, ii. 543. See Sin. 
 
 Instinct , special, led the animals into Noah’s ark, ii. 467. 
 Instructions for the ignorant, ii. 675. 
 
 * Interpreter and his house, iii. 98, 184—The picture, iii. 
 98, 184—Sweeping the dusty parlour, iii. 98—Passion 
 and Patience, iii. 99—Fire unquenchable, iii. 100—The 
 valiant man—’Man in the iron cage, iii. 100—Dread¬ 
 ful dream, iii. 101—The significant rooms—The muck¬ 
 rake, iii. 184—The spider, iii. 185—Hen and chickens 
 —Butcher and Sheep — Flower-garden — Corn-field, iii. 
 
 186— Robin and Spider—Wise sayings—Rotten tree, iii. 
 
 187— Christiana and Mercy relate their experience, iii. 
 
 188— Bath of sanctification—Sealed, iii. 189—Clothed in 
 fine linen, iii. 190. 
 
 Inventions in worship cruel to the saints, ii. 447—Muddies 
 the water of life, iii. 555. 
 
 Invitations of the gospel accepted by those that sought them 
 not, i. 315. 
 
 Israel: who are the Israel of God, or Jews inwardly, i. 587. 
 
 J. 
 
 Jacob's ladder, a type of Christ, ii. 10—*Seen by pilgrims, 
 iii. 204. 
 
 James , the Epistle of, paraphrased in verse, ii. 410. 
 
 * James, Christiana’s son, catechised, iii. 199—Sick in the 
 
 Valley, iii. 208—Married, iii. 233. 
 
 Jeffries, Judge , pourtrayed by Bunyan, iii. 73. 
 
 Jerusalem sinner saved, i. 67—Jerusalem a slaughter-shop 
 for saints, i. 69—Destroyed by Vespasian, why, iii. 562. 
 Jesse, Henry , agrees with Bunyan on baptism, ii. 616. 
 
 Jews, a monument to the truth of Christianity, ii. 145. 
 
 Job , a blessed book of holy sayings of the ancients, ii. 425. 
 John the Baptist, why called least in the kingdom of heaven, 
 iii. 417. 
 
 Jonah's prophecy paraphrased in verse, ii. 398. 
 
 Joseph, life of, from Genesis xxxvii. to 1., paraphrased in 
 verse, ii. 400—His triumph over adultery, iii. 613. 
 
 * Joseph, Christiana’s son, married to Martha Mnason, iii. 
 226. 
 
 Joy of the wicked, five things to keep it up, ii. 71. 
 
 Joyful hearts united to wet eyes, i. 33, No. 207, 244: i. 50, 
 440. 
 
 Judas sold his soul for thirty pieces of silver, i. 698. 
 Judgment drawn from outward appearances, the devil’s trap 
 to catch souls, iii. 675. 
 
 Judgment-day: Christ the Judge, i. 21; iii. 729—Sinners, 
 however great, without excuse at that day, i. 85—Evi¬ 
 dence at day of judgment, God himself, i. 116—Conscience 
 and thoughts, i. 117—Will break up hidden things, i. 223 
 —A solemn appeal, i. 334—Christ’s coming the saints’ 
 hope, i. 428—Eight notices of, given to man, i. 705— 
 Very terrible, i. 714—How his coming is to be hastened, 
 
 i. 730—Judgment of the just, ii. 97—Burning up of his 
 wood, hay, stubble—Will expose superstitious and scrip¬ 
 tureless observances, ii. 98—Will reckon up good actions, 
 
 ii. 100—Persecutions for the truth will be rewarded, ii. 
 101—Of the wicked—Seven creature instincts will bear 
 
 witness against man, ii. 108—Books opened: as, Book of 
 nature—Book of God’s remembrance, ii. 112, 120—Book 
 of the law, ii. 114—Book of life, what it means, ii. 118; 
 
 iii. 449, 713—The sinner’s pleas, ii. 119—Private good 
 rewarded openly, ii. 122—Dust 3hook off the feet, ii. 124 
 —Sentence and punishment of the wicked— 1 Depart,’ an 
 awfully-irresistible word, ii. 125—Of quick and dead, ii. 
 162, 596—Signs and manner of his coming, ii. 163— 
 What he will do, ii. 164—Solemn admonitions, ii. 168— 
 Final, iii. 720. 
 
 Judgments , unless sanctified, harden, i. 7. 
 
 *Jury , at Faithful’s trial, iii. 131. 
 
 Justification stands with imperfection, i. 212—Graces that 
 attend it, i. 213—How accomplished, i. 221—By faith, an 
 encouragement to good works, i. 738—A mere pretence, 
 unless evidenced by sanctification, i. 750—Precedes sanc¬ 
 tification, ii. 48—Man’s righteousness cannot share in it, 
 ii. 235—Fowler’s feigned design of Christianity erroneous 
 and destructive, in forty particulars, as to justification, 
 ii. 280—Holiness flows from, ii. 281—Cannot arise from 
 a sound complexion of soul, or purity of motive, nor is it 
 an original dictate of nature—Nature, impure and unholy, 
 ii. 282—Purity, or holiness, only exists in man as planted 
 by the Holy Ghost, ii. 284—The Jesuit, the clergyman, 
 and the Quaker, agree erroneously that good works precede 
 justification, ii. 332—Of person first, and their offering, ii. 
 443—Before men, ii. 507—Not by works, iii. 95, 96, 154 
 —By faith alone, iii. 190, 199. 
 
 Justified , the, need an interpreter, i. 212. 
 
 Justifying righteousness solely of God, ii. 254, 597—The 
 first of all blessings—By suretiship before Christ came, 
 
 ii. 255—Founded on Christ, the Rock of ages—While we 
 were sinners Christ died for us, ii. 256—A man may be 
 in legal possession of an estate, and not know it till the 
 rent-day, ii. 257. 
 
 K. 
 
 Keeling, Justice, i. 54. 
 
 *Key of promise fits every lock in Doubting Castle, iii. 142. 
 
 Keys, Christ has the, of death and hell, i. 417. 
 
 Kiffin opposes Bunyan on communion, ii. 617. 
 
 * Kingdom of heaven taken by violence, iii. 100, 107, 184. 
 
 * Knowledge without practice useless—*A shepherd, iii. 124. 
 
 L. 
 
 Labour, our duty while we are above ground, ii. 440. 
 
 Lamentations over perishing sinners, iii. 379. 
 
 Landlord raising rent of a tenant because he went to hear 
 the gospel, iii. 699. 
 
 Latitudinarian, shut out of heaven, i. 389—Like a weather¬ 
 cock, ii. 322. 
 
 Lark and the Fowler, a poem, iii. 749. 
 
 Law and grace unfolded. See Covenant. 
 
 Law, the, work of; how the soul is killed and made alive by, 
 i. 543; iii. 719—Must be obeyed, not quarrelled with, 
 i. 600—Christian dead to, i. 612—A rule; Christ’s, in the 
 heart, Moral, in our members, ii. 29—Ceremonial, not 
 moral, leads to Christ, ii. 190—Additions to both, sheer 
 madness, ii. 231—Fulfilled by Christ for his body, the 
 church, ii. 247—Death to, and married to another, ii. 290 
 —Six rules to show that Christians are released from the 
 curse of, ii. 387. 
 
 Law terms —Premunire, i. 542—Indenture, i. 543. 
 
 Laws , wicked , to be disobeyed, i. 482. 
 
 Lazarus, with all his sores, a temple of the Holy Ghost, 
 i. 341. 
 
 Lean souls desire to be saved from hell, ii. 15. 
 
 Leaves , Christ’s, are better than Adam’s aprons, iii. 457. 
 
 Legal spirit, dangerous and destructive, i. 557; a variety of 
 meanings of the word, i. 589. 
 
 Legalist, like a whipping top, iii. 758. 
 
 * Legality, a quack, iii. 94—Exposed by Evangelist, iii. 95. 
 
 Leviathan , Job’s, illustrative of Satanic power, ii. 5. 
 
 Levitical law of clean and unclean animals spiritualised, 
 
 iii. 123. 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 781 
 
 Liars, heaven no place for, i. 475—Nurses to the devil’s 
 brats, iii. 597. 
 
 Lie at the catch , its meaning, iii. G39, and note. 
 
 IJglit for them that sit in darkness, i. 390—Within, by 
 nature, a delusion of Satan, ii. 133—Its nature and end, 
 ii 151, 152, 186 — Natural, within, not the spirit of 
 Christ, ii. 195—Of nature, of the law, of conscience, dis¬ 
 tinct from the light of Christ, ii. 207—Of the gospel will 
 increase in spite of men and devils—Of truth greater now 
 than in the days of the martyrs, iii. 438—Light against 
 light, its meaning, iii. 521. 
 
 Lindale, Dr., taunts Bunyan, i. 52. 
 
 IAne of the visible church to Abraham, ii. 499. 
 
 Lions, wicked people called, i. 469. 
 
 * Little-Faith, of the town of Sincere, robbed, iii. 147—re¬ 
 ferred to, 211, 217, 232. 
 
 Little things, if commanded, of great importance, ii. 484. 
 
 Livery of Christ, to be kept clean and white, iii. 372. 
 
 Locusts of Egypt, a type of our graceless clergy, ii. 475. 
 
 * Looking-glass, a wonderful one, iii. 231. 
 
 Lord's Supper. See Sacraments. 
 
 Ijording it over the brethren is like Babel-builders, ii. 498. 
 
 * Lot's Wife, a monument, iii. 137, 228. 
 
 Love of Christ, instances of the wondrous, ii. 17—Not one 
 hundred thousandth part of it can be discovered, ii. 20— 
 Some knowledge of it attainable, ii. 27—A short poem, 
 ii. 657. 
 
 Love, to Christ, good fruits of, i. 99—Unfeigned, better than 
 offerings, i. 689—In us a passion that ebbs and flows, in 
 Christ essential to his being, ii. 16—Of God, how and 
 when discovered, ii. 142—The constraining influence to 
 good works, ii. 190—Brotherly, ii. 600—Love, and not 
 baptism, the Christian’s livery, ii. 638—First, a happy 
 state, iii. 323. See Church fellow ship. 
 
 * Love-gain, a town in the north, iii. 133. 
 
 Love-no-light, the governor of midnight-hold, iii. 265. 
 
 *Love-the-flesh, Mrs., iii. 177. 
 
 Loyalty, a Christian duty, ii. 74—Becomes the Christian, 
 ii. 709. 
 
 * Lucre-hill and silver-mine, iii. 136 ; 228. 
 
 Hustings, Lord, without ears or eyes, iii. 264. 
 
 *Lute, played by Mercy, iii. 229. 
 
 Luther on the Galatians, a blessing to Bunyan, i. 22. 
 
 Lying , beware of, before God, i. 717—A master sin—Liars 
 the devil’s brats, iii. 597—Its awful punishment, iii. 598. 
 
 Lying legends and false miracles, ii. 51. 
 
 M. 
 
 Magistracy and rulers ministers of God, ii. 601. 
 
 Maids or wives should not be like parrots, but bridle their 
 tongues, ii. 561. 
 
 Man , an enemy to his own salvation, i. 351—By nature is a 
 fool as to spiritual things, i. 703—A false believer—Cruel 
 to his own soul—A rebel, compared to a headstrong horse, 
 
 i. 705—A captive to sin, i. 706—By nature wild, i. 707— 
 A lover of false teachers, i. 708—Is what he is at home, 
 
 ii. 536—Hung for a jest, ii. 709, and note—His heart is 
 like a dusty parlour, iii. 98—Its deceitfulness, iii. 157— 
 Heart of man hard and callous, iii. 286—He refuses to 
 hear the voice of mercy, iii. 288. 
 
 Mankind consist of only two classes, i. 228—Most of them 
 “greatly mad,” i. 229— All think each other mad, i. 230. 
 
 Mansoul, its beauty before the fall, iii. 255—Impregnable, 
 
 iii. 256—In extreme misery, iii. 298—In as extreme a 
 state of holy enjoyment, iii. 324. 
 
 Mansoul's day of clouds ^nd thick darkness, iii. 327, 329. 
 
 Map, a, showing the order and causes of salvation and dam¬ 
 nation, on a separate sheet, iii. 336. 
 
 Mark, set on Cain as a reprobate, i. 26—*On Christian’s 
 forehead, iii. 102, 189. 
 
 * Marriage —Mercy to Matthew, James to Phebe, iii. 223— 
 
 Samuel to Grace Mnason, Joseph to Martha, iii. 226. 
 
 Marriage, the time of, has its peculiar temptations, i. 678— 
 A mystery, ii. 427—The unequal yoke a deadly thing, 
 iii. 621—The scriptural rule, iii. 622—A miserable one, 
 
 iii. 654. 
 
 Martha and Mary, a story, i. 81. 
 
 * Martyrdom of Faithful, and its fruits, iii. 132, 225—*The 
 conversion of Hopeful and others, iii. 153. 
 
 Martyrs: their view of Christ, i. 295—Despised death — 
 scorning cruel torments, which Christ could not do, i. 411 
 — The frying of their flesh a blessing to us, i. 725—*And 
 apostles, Christian a descendant of the, iii. 218. 
 
 * Marvel, a Delectable Mountain, iii. 230. 
 
 Mately, Dorothy, of Derbyshire, her awful fate, iii. 604. 
 
 * Matthew, Christian’s son, eats forbidden fruit, iii. 182—• 
 
 Is ill, iii. 201—Loves Mercy, iii. 302—Marries her, 
 iii. 220. 
 
 *Mavl, the giant sophist, slain, iii. 210—Ilis monument, 
 iii. 211. 
 
 Mediator essential to salvation, i. 317. 
 
 Mercy, a powerful supply of, i. 28—God’s design in showing, 
 i. 77—Of a thawing nature, i. 78—Great, tender, rich, 
 and in multitude, i. 594, 597—God’s solace and delight, 
 
 i. 600, 645—Is from everlasting to everlasting—The need 
 of, proves our helplessness, i. 601—Breaks the heart, i. 
 615—God’s resting-place, i. 644—Continued supplies of, 
 essential, i. 679—Deeper than hell, ii. 6—Swallowing 
 up all misery, ii. 10—Not to be had partly by law and 
 partly by grace, but only by Christ, ii. 233, 234. 
 
 * Mercy, Miss, persuaded to be a pilgrim, iii. 176—Received 
 
 at the gate, iii. 180—Surprised at evil in the way, iii. 183 
 —Welcomed by the Interpreter, iii. 184—Her experience, 
 iii. 188—Is washed by sanctification, iii. 189—Mr. Brisk 
 addresses her, iii. 200—Married to Matthew, iii. 220— 
 Sees the by-way to hell—Longs for and obtains a Bible, 
 iii. 231. 
 
 Mercy-seat, near the law, i. 647—How it was placed, iii. 503. 
 Merit-monger despiseth Christ’s blood, i. 315. 
 
 Messiah. See God — Christ. 
 
 Military terms and tactics, iii. 306. 
 
 Millennium, brave days, ii. 53—The seventh thousand years, 
 
 ii. 456—Its happy state, iii. 426. 
 
 Mind, the clerk, to my Lord Will-be-will, iii. 2G2. 
 
 Ministers , mode of calling among Dissenters, i. 41—Their 
 griefs and joys, i. 43, 44—If gifted but lifeless, they are 
 like a cymbal or fiddle, i. 44—Austerity or carnal gran¬ 
 deur unbecoming—Ought not to walk as if they would 
 not trust the poor with a pair of tongs, i. 98—Take heed 
 who they are, and what they teach—Choose for yourself, 
 
 i. 143—Pastoral visits of, i. 701—The ministry a solemn 
 work, i. 722—Authority from Christ, and not from men 
 —To be faithful in the face of murder and outrage— 
 Cowardly ministers punished, i. 723—Their love to tbeir 
 flocks, ii. 12—Affecting uncouth expressions for applause, 
 
 ii. 22—Made by Christ, ii. 22—Reward of spangling 
 glory, and motives, ii. 201—His important duties, ii. 556 
 —Portrait of a faithful evangelist, iii. 98—Important ser¬ 
 vices, iii. 197—Sometimes only servants, not sons to in¬ 
 herit, iii. 449, 466—Not to make their work a stalking- 
 horse to greatness, iii. 472—Greedy dogs—Who covet no 
 man’s silver or gold—Like lilies, send forth scent as Le¬ 
 banon, iii. 473—Covetous ones base, like Lot’s wife, iii. 
 475—Their power to admit to church-fellowship, iii. 478 
 —Compared to musicians, iii. 761. 
 
 * Miraculous roll of cloth, iii. 231. 
 
 * Mistrust and Timorous run back for fear of persecution, iii. 
 
 105—* Their punishment, iii. 195. 
 
 * Mnason of Cyprus entertaining the pilgrims, iii. 225. 
 
 * Mnason, Grace, iii. 225—Marries Samuel, iii. 226. 
 
 Modesty and bashful expressions become the godly, ii. 442. 
 Mongrel professors, iii. 623. 
 
 * Morality, the village of Mr. Legality, iii. 94. 
 
 Morals, public, greatly improved, since Bunyan’s time, iii. 
 712. 
 
 Mortifying our members, a Christian duty, i. 369. 
 
 Moses and his black wife, an emblem, iii. 757. 
 
 Motives to seek heaven, i. 333. 
 
 Mouth-gate, landed up with dirt by Diabolus, iii. 346. 
 
 * Much-afraid, Miss, iii. 229, 242. 
 
 * Muck-rake, a, preferred to a golden crown, iii. 184. 
 Mysteries of salvation by Christ, i. 303—To be learned gradu¬ 
 ally as men study letters, words, and meanings, i. 671. 
 
782 
 
 THE INDEX. 
 
 M it e »hr°l- the l aW i ma f T ' if > in S the gospel, and the gospel 
 establishing the law, i. 495. 
 
 N. 
 
 Xcimes significant of characters or qualities in the allego¬ 
 rical works—Names of old were given according to the 
 
 nature and destiny of the persons concerned,” ii. 495 _ 
 
 Captain Absalom, iii. 362 —Lord Adultery, 322 —Mr. 
 
 Ton? 1011 ]’ ooo~ A ir baS 1 e Lane ’ SU ~ Lord An S er i alias 
 Good-zeal, 322—^Mr. Any-thmg related to By-ends, 132' 
 
 ■Apostacy, the town of Turn-away, 146, 232 _*Mr 
 
 Arrogancy 119-^Assault Lane, 222-Alderman Athe¬ 
 ism, 309—* Mr. Atheist, 152—Mr. Babylon, 447—Mr. 
 Lackward-to-all-but-naught, 295—Mr. Badman’s life and 
 adventures, 586—Bad Street, 367—*Mrs. Bat’s-eyes, 177 
 —Mr. Beastly, 311—Mr. Belief, 310—Mr. Benumming, 
 
 -- Mr - Blackmouth, 263—Blackmouth Lane—Blas- 
 
 S.™ 310-Lord Blasphemy, 330—Captain 
 
 Blindfold, 295—Mr. Blindman, 131—Blindmanshire, 364 
 indzeaishire, 364—Captain Boanerges, a rough-hewn 
 man 270—Captam Boasting, 292—*Miss Bountiful, sister 
 to Mercy, 201—Captain Bragman, 292—Captain Brim- 
 
 BubhlP r ’ Brisk ’ 2 °°~ Lord Brisk, 349-*Madam 
 nubble, 238—Ensign Burning, 342—*By-ends of Fair- 
 
 meadows, 138, 228—Captain 
 9 fi El"” L ° rd Carnal ’delight, 131—Mrs. Carnal-lust, 
 iSr^'^n 0 * Carnal -PoBey, 93—Mr. Carnal-secu- 
 nn 7 ’ •? 2 t7? fr ' Carnal -sense, 369—*Caution, 144, and 
 Chanty, Delectable mountains, 231—Lord Cavil, 349— 
 
 Captain Charity, 285—*Miss Charity, 108, 199_Mr. 
 
 Cheatnig, 264—Mr. Cheer-up, 314—^Christian, formerly 
 called Graceless, 106—^Christiana, his wife, 177_*Mr. 
 
 -fiq lllt7 Tn 94 ~* The hiH CIear ’ 145 ~Clip-promise] 
 The r C S ntr / of . Conceit ’ 146—Mrs. Conscience, 
 x / lgn< N d ie Conscience-seared-with-an-hot-iron, 312 
 
 Captain Consumption kills Mr. Badman, 655—Mr 
 Contrite, 225—Captain Conviction, 274—Ensign Cor¬ 
 ruption, 342 — *The county of Coveting, 333 —Mr. 
 Covetousness, alias Mr. Good-husbandry, 314 — Lord 
 Covetousness, alias Prudent-thrifty, a horrible villain, 
 333—Captam Credence, 285—*Crooked Lane, 146— 
 
 tion 349 Cl 345 —*Mr Cruelty, 131—Captain Damna- 
 
 L 342—^Danger and Destruction, two by-roads, 104— 
 _AIr Dare-not-lie 227-Old Mr. Dark, 369-Ensign 
 Daikness, 342—^Dark-land, 233—*Dead-man’8-lane, 147 
 
 nit 0 q? 9 D M eit ’ 32 ?~ Tke Sign ° f The Bescent-into-the- 
 rv ?! 300 *My Lord Desire-of-vain- 
 
 f?q 7 ^n 3 a r ' P eS 1 J, eS ' aWake ’ 30 °—^Ciant Despair, 
 139—-Despond, the Slough of, 1 , 16, 92, 178—*Mr 
 
 Despondency, 229—*City of Destruction, 90—Ensign 
 es 1 uctive _342—Ens,gn Devourer, 342—Diabolonians, 
 31 J~ Mr * Bidsee, 316—*The hill Difficulty, 104—*Mrs 
 
 U 9 22 n 4 e ’ DiHgenCe ’ 365-*Mn Discontent] 
 i; y , if 4- Miss Discretion, 107—Mrs. Do-right 310— 
 Mrs. Doubt, 369—^Doubting Castle, 139—Doubters the 
 
 3li ~ Mr - Drunkenness 
 
 ^Jf 1SS r Du1 -’ 193 T E r gate ’ 292 ~ Mr * Emulation, 
 
 Env7 ^ EnV7 ’ 13 0-County of 
 
 Envy 3 6 4-C a p tain Esau, 362-Mr. Evil-concupiscence, 
 
 tt " Eord Evil-eye, 322-Mr. Evil-questioning, alias 
 
 onest-mquiring, 365—Captain Execution, 270_*Mr. 
 
 ' xperience, 144—Ensign Expectation, 285—Eye-gate! 
 *Mr~TW 7 ^“-nothn.s, 324-*Lord Fornication, 322 
 p th ‘ Wa7S ’, 132 -* Mr - Faintlieart, a footpad, 
 355 —*M° d E Fa ' r ; s f eec ’> 132—Lord Lieutenant Faith, 
 
 *Mr Fearing 212 ’ *Ar r h””" F alse P eace > 309- 
 orn „ ea l> 212 -Mr. Feeble-mmd, 221 —Feel-gate 
 
 267-S'rf F h iS’ Feigni "*' 132—Mr. Filth* 
 
 qai S> Pllth ’ 177 Filth Lane, 312—Mr. Find-out 
 346-M r s Flatter SiS-Mr. Flesh, 369-Flesh Street] 
 
 353 *F S1 kT’ 312 FoUy-yard, 314—Mr. Fooling, 
 l-AT *F°rgetful-green, 207-Mr. Forget-good, 265- 
 4 * P? miallS p alias Formality, 103—Mr. Fury, 264— 
 shTre 35 6 a \ 8 ~! r ' Get -i’-th’-hundred-and-lose-i’-th’- 
 39q!l4 6 7 E a Wgn Gnaw » 342 —Eev. Mr. Godly-fear 
 ' r * odly-man, 230—Mr. God’s-peace, 324—-^City 
 
 of Good-confidence, 147— Mr. Good-deed, 300—Captain 
 Good-ho pe 29 2—*Mr. Good-will, 96—Mr. Good-work, 
 310— Mr. Good-zeal, 333— *Mr. Graceless, 160— *Town 
 °t Graceless, 160—Mount Gracious, 286—*Mr. Great- 
 
 Mnn 6 1 Griggish ’ 34 <3—*Giant Grim, or Bloody 
 
 Man, 195—Mr Gripe-all, 346—*Mr.Gripeman, 133—*M r. 
 
 H 1 ,rdl heai ] ’ o n 9 Q~* M f' GuiIt ’ a footpad, 147—Alderman 
 o 10 d Jp’ o09—Ensign Harmless, 285—Mr. Hate-bad, 
 *1? ~ Mate-good, 129—Mr. Hate-lies, 310 — 
 
 Hate-hght, 131—Mr. Hate-reproof, 263—Mr. Burgess 
 
 f®’ 30 — f ir Havin «-greedy, 130—Mr. Heady, 
 H Mount Hearken, 286—Mount Hear-well, 284—Mr. 
 Heavenly-mind, 310-*Mr. Heedless, 237-Hell-gate-hill, 
 H ? ] P’ 92 ~Mr. Heresy, 322—*Mr. High-mind, 
 p ff H, gF-mmd and Heady, two gems made by Air. 
 1 ^ P 1 oo 77 r Mrs ‘ Mold-fast-bad, 346—*Mr. Hold-the- 
 worffi, 133—*Mr. Holy-man, 227—*Mr. Honest, 211— 
 -> 11 . Hopeful, 132 — Mr. Human-wisdom, 277 — Mr 
 909 mb 4 3l T °~^ Miss Humble-mind, 197—Mr. Idolatry, 
 ii^qa r \ bgn0rance ’ 146 ~Mr. Ill-pause, 260—*Mr. Ill- 
 Im P iet F> 311—The Impregnable Gate, 296 
 -Mr. Implacable, 131—Mr. Impudent, 263—*Mr. and 
 Mrs. Inconsiderate, 177,233-My Lord Mayor Incredulity, 
 309—Lord Innocent, 258—Captain Innocent, 285—*Miss 
 Innocent, 184— *Mount Innocent, 230—Old Mr. Inquisi- 
 ive, o o -Captain Insatiable, 342— x The Interpreter, 98 
 ‘Pjr Eomael, 362—Mr. Jolly, 346—Captain Judas, 
 302—Captam Judgment, 270—Ensign Justice, 270- 
 Mount Justice, 286—Mr. Know-all, 310—*Mr. Know- 
 e ge, 44 *Mrs. Know-nothing, 176—Lord Lascivious- 
 ness ahas Harmless-mirth, 333—*Old Lord Lechery, 130 
 
 oro Mr ; r LeCber7 ’ 177 ~*Dr. Legality, 94—Mr. Legal-life 
 ob9—Mr. Let-good-siip, 369—*Mr. Liar, 131—*Mrs. 
 Light-mind, 177 — *Mr. Linger-after-lust, 193 — # Mr. 
 Little-faith of Sincere, 147—Mr. Live-by-feeling, 369— 
 Mr. Live-loose, 131—Mr. Lose-foot, 348—Frovince of 
 Loath-good, 362—Mr. Loth-to-stoop, 290—Mr. Love- 
 naught 3 12 — x Mr. Love-saint, 225—*Town ofLovegain, 
 133—Mrs. Love-flesh, 265—Mr. Love-God, 310—*Mr 
 Love-lust, 13i —Mr. Love-no-light, 265—Mr. Love-to- 
 Mansoul, 284- ^Lucre Hill, 136-*Miss Lust-of-the-eyes, 
 on »t U bS , E} lst 'Of-the-flesh, 118 —Lord Mayor Lustings, 
 264 *Lord Luxurious, 130—*Mr. Malice, 131—The 
 oun of Malice, 364—Mr. Man’s-invention, 277— x Mount 
 Marvel, 230—*Giant Maul, 210—Mr. Meditation, 369— 
 Cornet Memory, 318—*Miss Mercy, 176—Midnight-’ 
 hold, 26 j Mr. Mind, 262—Mr. Mischief, 330—*Mr. 
 ,l rUSt L the f °otpad, 147—Mr. Moderate, 310—*Town 
 9 ,c M °i a i . t7 \, 94 ~ #Mr - Mone yLove, 133—Mouth-gate, 
 t ob ~~' Mlss Mucli-afraid, 229—Captain Much-hurt;347— 
 Lord Murder, 322—Lord Murmur, 349—Nauseous Street, 
 dij—Mr.Never-be-good, 310-Captain Nimrod, 362— 
 Captam No-ease, 342—*Mr. No-good, 131—*Mr. No- 
 heart, 193—Nose-gate, 256—Ensign No-life, 342—Mr. 
 
 ?n°r 10V xT 369 ~ No ' sin Banks, 286—Mr. No-truth, 309— 
 ■i-Ir. Aot-right, 222—*Mr. Obstinate, 90—*Lord Old¬ 
 man, 130—Mrs. Ostentation, 356— x Giant Fagan, 116 
 —Captam Past-hope, 342 — Captain Patience, 285 — 
 leace, a bed-room, 109 —*Mr. Penitent, 227 —Mr. 
 Fenny-wise-pound-foolish, 356—*Miss Piety, 199 —*Mr. 
 Pick-thank, 130—Ensign Pitiful, 285—Mr. Pitiless, 309— 
 Plain-truth-hill, 286— x Mr. Pliable, 91— x GiantPope, 116 
 Captam Pope, 362—Lord Pragmatic, 349—*Mr, Prag¬ 
 matic, 233—Mr. Pragmatical, 356—^Prating Eow, 121 — 
 Mr. Present-good, 356—Old Mr. Prejudice, 276—Mr 
 Bride, ahas Mr. Neat, alias Mr. Handsome, 314—*Mr. 
 Pnde, 119—*Miss Pride, 118—Mr. Prodigality, 356— 
 ol r - P ^:!] a,ie > 331 Ensign Promise, 285—Mrs. Profuse, 
 Vno J ie kej called Promise, 142—*Miss Prudence, 
 
 108 — Mr. Prudent-thrifty,. 333—Mr. Prywell, 339 — 
 Captam Page, 341—Mr. Rake-all, 346-Pascals’ Lane, 
 dii—Mr. Rash-head, 282—*Mr. Peady-to-halt, 223— 
 Mr. Reason, 307—My Lord Reason, 347—Mr. Pepent- 
 ance, father to Wet-eyes, 301—The sign of The Pepro- 
 bate, 312—Captam Resistance, 259—Ensign Restless, 342 
 Mr Revelling, 322'—Miss Revenge, 263—*Mr. Saga¬ 
 city, 171 Captain Saul, 362—*Mr. Save-all, 133—*Mr, 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 7£3 
 
 Save-self, 160—*Mr. Say well, 121—Mr. Scorntruth, 263 
 —Mr. Searchtruth, 313—^Secret (an angel), 174—Mr. 
 Sedition, 322—Mr. See-truth, 310—* Mr. Self-conceit, 
 119—Sign of The Self-deceiver, 314—*Mr. Self-will, 216 
 —Captain Self-denial, 363—Mr. Self-love, 369—Captain 
 Sepulchre, 342—*Mr. Shame, 119—Mr. Shameless, 312— 
 *Mr. Short-wind, 193—*Mr. Simple, 103—*Mr. Sincere, 
 144—* The town of Sincere, 147—* Dr. Skill, 201—Lieu¬ 
 tenant Skilful, 318—Mr. Slavish-fear, 369—* G iant Slay- 
 good, 221—*Mr. Sleepy-head, 193—Mr. Slight-God, 263 
 '—"Mr. Sloth, 103—*Mr. Slow-pace, 193—*Mr. Smooth- 
 man, 132—Mrs. Soothup, 313—Ensign Sorrows, 270— 
 Mr. Speedy, 258—*Mr. Stand-fast, 238—Mr. Stand-to- 
 lies, 264—Mr. Strife, 322—*The town of Stupidity, 212 
 —Ensign Sufifer-long, 285—*Mr. Superstition, 130—Mr. 
 Swearing, 264—Sweet-sin-hold, 265—Mr. Sweet-world, 
 356 — *Mr. Take-heed, 210—Mr. Take-heed-what-you- 
 hear, 272—*Mr. Talkative of Prating Row, 121—*Mr. 
 Taste-that-which-is-good, the cook, and his dishes: A 
 heave-shoulder, a wave-breast, butter and honey, 219 
 — Mr. Tell-all, 346—*Mr. Tell-true, 233—*Mr. Tempo¬ 
 rary, 160—Ensign Terror, 270—Mr. Thankful, 310— 
 Mr. Think-well, 369 — Ensign Thunder, 270 — *Lord 
 Timeserver, 132—*Mr. Timorous, 105—*Mrs. Timorous, 
 175—'-'Mr. Too-bold, 237—Captain Torment, 342—Mr. 
 Tradition, 277—Captain Treacherous, 295—Mr True- 
 heart, 310 — Mr. Trueman, the jailor, 309 — *Lord 
 Turn-about, 132—*Mr. Turn-away, 146—*The Rev. Mr. 
 Two-tongues, 132 — Air. Unbelief, 369 — *The town of 
 Uncertain, 222—The Lord Mayor Understanding, 260— 
 Mr. Upright, 310 — *Mr. Yain-confidence, 139—*The 
 town of Yain-glory, 103—*Mr. Vain-hope, 166—*Mr. 
 Valiant-for truth, 233 —Mr. Variance, 322—Mr. Vile- 
 affection, 263—Yile Hill, 339—Villains’ Lane, 310— 
 Mr. Voluptuous, 356—Mr. Vouch-truth, 313—Mr. Wait¬ 
 ing, 317—*Mrs. Wanton, 118—Want-wit Alley, 369— 
 *Mr. Watchful, 106, 144—Mr. Wet-eyes, 300 —Mr. 
 Whoring, 264—My Lord Will-be-will, 262—Mr. Witch¬ 
 craft, 322—*Mr. Worldly-glory, 119—*Mr. Worldly- 
 wiseman, 93—Mr. Would-live, 298—Mr. Wrath, 322 
 —Mr. Wrong thoughts-of-Christ, 369—Mr. Zeal-for-God, 
 315—The army of Diabolus consisted of the Election 
 doubters — Vocation doubters—Grace doubters—Perse¬ 
 verance doubters — Resurrection doubters — Salvation 
 doubters—and Glory doubters. 
 
 Naming the name of Christ, what it means, ii. 513. 
 
 Nantes, repeal of the edict of, i. 146. 
 
 Narrow way wide enough for body and soul, but not for sin, 
 
 i. 13. 
 
 National churches will fall like brats of Babel, ii. 498. 
 
 Negative holiness not righteousness, ii. 223. 
 
 Neglectors of Christ, their awful state, i. 332. 
 
 New hirtli. See Regeneration. 
 
 New Jerusalem. See Holy City. 
 
 Nicodemus , the learned, ignorant, ii. 303. 
 
 Nightingale and thorn, i. 733. 
 
 Roah, God’s promise to him allegorized, ii. 487. 
 
 Noah's ark spiritualized, ii. 464—A type of Christ, ii. 464, 
 465—Flood, typical, ii. 466—Animals entered the ark 
 by special instinct, ii. 467—Seven precepts; those who 
 were drowned in the flood now in prison, i. 379; ii. 
 327, and note. 
 
 Nonconformity in outward ceremonies no bar to communion, 
 
 ii. 611, and note. 
 
 Nose-jewels , how worn in Persia, iii. 613; note. 
 
 Notion of truth is the shell, the power is the kernel, i. 239. 
 
 A otiomst —Notional religion, dangerous, ii. 133. 
 
 *Not-right killed with a tlftinder-bolt, iii. 222. 
 
 No-truth sets up Diabolus instead of Shaddai, iii. 263. 
 
 *Nuts for pilgrims (pious riddles), iii. 219. 
 
 0. 
 
 Oath , i. 232—Of the covenant, i. 526. 
 
 Oil, why called golden, iii. 487. 
 
 Olive-wood very durable and elegant, iii. 499, and note. 
 
 One thing is needful , or serious meditations upon the Four 
 
 Last Things —death, judgment, heaven, and hell, 
 
 iii. 726. 
 
 Ordinances (of the gospel) may be used with a legal spirit, 
 i. 516—How discovered, i. 517—Honourable, i. 517, note 
 —Of God, delightful, i. 756—God’s love-letters, i. 757. 
 
 Original sin. See Sin. 
 
 Orts —An obsolete word, explained, i. 699. 
 
 Owen, Dr., a mighty armour-bearer, ii. 649. 
 
 P. 
 
 * Pagan, the dead giant, iii. 116. 
 
 * Palace, guarded by armed men, an emblem, iii. 100, 107— 
 
 * Beautiful, iii. 106, 196, 214. 
 
 Paper blinkers, or winkers, ii. 82, and note. 
 
 Parable of rich man and Lazarus ; two states, not individuals, 
 iii. 675. 
 
 Parables, full of important realities, iii. 674. 
 
 Paradise, as the world began so it will end with, iii. 454. 
 
 Pardon must be wrapped up in a promise, i. 29—God may 
 have thy pardon in his bosom while he is breaking thy bones, 
 i. 730—Regal, to a traitor, an emblem of the pardon of 
 sin, ii. 252—Produces amendment of life, ii. 266—Did 
 Christ’s death put man in a capacity for, or into a personal 
 possession of, pardon? The former proved heresy, the 
 latter truth, ii. 295—And forgiveness by Christ alone, ii. 
 298—Must be by a New and Living Way , ii. 299—*By 
 word and deed, iii. 190—Fetters broken and cast into the 
 air by, iii. 303—Joy arising from, iii. 304. 
 
 * Passion and Patience, an emblem, iii. 99. 
 
 Passover, first eaten in the night, i. 97. 
 
 Pastor. See Church. 
 
 Patience of Noah exercised, ii. 480. 
 
 Paul, a chief apostle, i. 81—Departure and crown of, i. 722. 
 —Defence before the heathen magistrate, ii. 85. 
 
 Paul's, (Mr. T.) controversy with Bunyan, ii. 616. 
 
 Paionbrokers, their character in Bunyan’s days, iii. 638. 
 
 * Peace, a bed-chamber, called, iii. 109, 197. 
 
 Peaceable principles and true, ii. 648. 
 
 * Pearls, in an oyster or toad—Apology, iii. 86. 
 
 Penance , manner of doing, iii. 341. 
 
 Perfection, Christian, not found in this world, ii. 525. 
 
 Persecuted, the honoured of God, ii. 701, 729—In many 
 cases suddenly murdered, as John the Baptist, 702, 730. 
 
 Persecution, for preaching the truth, i. 43, 47—And affliction 
 for our good—Of Bunyan by Church of England—Bunyan 
 sent to jail, i. 47—Supported under, even though threat¬ 
 ened with the gallows, i. 47, 49; ii. 13, and note— 
 Reasons for not seeking, nor desiring to avoid, i. 51 — 
 Narrative of Bunyan’s, i. 56—For conscience’ sake, i. 315 
 —Its effects on the church, i. 581—Should not deter us 
 from duty, i. 723—Word of the Lord tried by, as silver in 
 a furnace of earth—Made Stephen’s face shine like an 
 angel’s—Followed by judgments—The blood of Christ 
 laid Jerusalem in heaps, i. 725—Readiness of the saints 
 to offer themselves up in, i. 725, 727—What it is to be 
 ready to be' offered in—Readiness of enemies to resort to, 
 i. 726—Human laws interfering with Divine worship—By 
 kings, ii. 44—Its true cause, ii. 45—Laws and statutes 
 interfering with conscience cannot be obeyed—Suggested 
 by Satan, ii. 437—Its bitterness, a tale of past ages, ii. 445; 
 iii. 569; note—Bitter pills needed, although they make 
 us wince and shuck, ii. 693—Sufferer under, must be 
 watchful, ii. 696—Sometimes leaves the saint nothing but 
 his soul to care for, ii. 697—Desolating effects of, ii. 698, 
 and note—God can make a jail more beautiful than a 
 palace, ii. 700—Christians suffer by consent, and for a 
 good cause, ii. 711—Of the church for not conforming to 
 sumptuous ceremonies and ornaments, ii. 713—Minister, 
 driven by, packs up, and takes his religion with him, ii. 
 715—Flying from, warrantable, ii. 726—A sore tempta¬ 
 tion, ii. 733—Comforts at the goal or gibbet known only 
 to those who have been there, ii. 735—Purgeth the church 
 from hypocrites, ii. 737—Christians sewn in bears’ skins, 
 and torn to pieces by dogs, ii. 738—*In Vanity Fair, iii. 
 128—*By a Monster, iii. 227—Sometimes saves the per¬ 
 secuted, iii. 514—For God’s glory, although the boar, the 
 
784 
 
 THE INDEX. 
 
 man of sin, and the dragon, revel in the church, iii. 521— 
 Contrary to the nature of the true church, iii. 528 ; note 
 —Why the world persecutes the church, iii. 529—Its 
 various appearances, iii. 712. 
 
 Persecutors— Grim, the Giant, i. 581; *iii. 195—Laws and 
 statutes interfering with conscience called persecutors’ 
 teeth, i. 581—Are the devil’s scarecrows, i. 602—Called 
 beasts of prey, i. 726; ii. 422—As ready to kill a saint as 
 a sheep, i. 726—Giants and high walls to terrify the 
 saints, ii. 8—Cain, a type of, ii. 444, 445—Blood shed by, 
 a strong cry, never ceasing, ii. 447—Their awful end, ii. 
 451, 739, and note—Satan’s tools to destroy the soul, ii. 
 695—Objects of prayer and compassion—God will have a 
 full blow at, ii. 739—*Lions in the way, iii. 105, 106, 108, 
 195, 214—Or Bloodmen, come against Mansoul, iii. 361— 
 Under eight captains, Cain to Pope; their standards, &c., 
 iii. 362—The Bloodmen send a summons, hot as a red-hot 
 iron, to Mansoul, iii. 363. 
 
 Perseverance , essential and secured, ii. 339—A wonderful 
 thing to overcome devils, hell, the world, and ourselves, 
 
 i. 340. 
 
 Personal investigation essential to salvation, i. 154. 
 
 Persons accepted before offerings, ii. 296. 
 
 Peter: His horrible revolt pardoned, i. 97—Twice deceived 
 as to good works, ii. 553—*Beset by Mistrust and Co., 
 afraid of a sorry girl, iii. 149—Swaggered, but foiled, 
 iii. 150. 
 
 Pharisee andPullican, picked men, their characters, ii. 217_ 
 
 Both meet in church, ii. 218. 
 
 Pharisee , like the dragon, an accuser, ii. 239—I am no such 
 needy man, keenly illustrated, ii. 240. 
 
 Pharisee s definition of righteousness, ii. 222—Righteousness 
 all sinful, ii. 241. 
 
 Pharisees , notable in forms and length of prayer, i. 629— 
 Hearts of, in a fool’s paradise, ii. 237, 244—Ignorant and 
 vain-glorious, ii. 244. 
 
 * Physic to make a pilgrim live for ever, iii. 202. 
 
 Pictures of the Virgin, iii. 523, see note. 
 
 * Pilgrim beggars made princes, iii. 109. 
 
 Pilgrim's Progress written in prison—Proofs adduced, iii. 5 
 
 —Bibliographical account of the early editions, iii. 55_ 
 
 Singular typographical errors in printing, iii. 59—Trans¬ 
 lations into all languages, iii. 60—Imitations and poetic 
 versions, iii. 62—Opinions of great and learned men on 
 the, iii. 66—Synopsis of the allegory, iii. 77. 
 
 Pilgrim's Progress: Bunyan the sole and unassisted author of 
 the, iii. 29—Works analysed to prove it; viz., The Pilgrim 
 an ancient MS., iii. 31; Abbey of the Holy Ghost, 32; The 
 Pylgramage of the Soule, 33 ; the Book of the Pylgram- 
 age of Man, 35; Informatyon for Pylgrymes; Historie 
 of Graunde Amoure, 36; Libro del Peregrino, 38; The 
 Pryke of Conscience ; The Myrrour of Lyfe,; Le Chateau 
 D Amour ; I he Ladder of Perfeccion, 39 ; The Pilgrimage 
 of Perfection; The Tonne of the Lyfe of Perfection, 40 ; 
 Bellanda Viaggio Spirituale; The Vision of Pierce Plow¬ 
 man ; Chaucer’s Pilgrimage; Erasmus’ Religious Pilgrim- 
 age, 41; Spencer’s Fairy Queen ; The Wandering Knight, 
 42; Whitney’s Emblematic Pilgrimages, 43; The Pil¬ 
 grimage to Paradise; Benoist Le Chevalier Chretien ; The 
 Pilgrimage of Princes ; The Plain Man’s Pathway to Hea¬ 
 ven, 44; Raleigh’s Pilgrimage, a poem, 45; Plain Man’s 
 Pilgrimage; The Pilgrim, a play, 46; The Pilgrims Prac¬ 
 tice ; i lie Pilgrim’s Profession; The Pilgrim of Casteele; 
 The Pilgrim of Loretto, 47; Lucian’s Hermotemus, 48; 
 Bernard’s Isle of Man, 49; Scudder’s Christian’s Daily 
 Walk ; Bolswert’s Pilgrimage of Duyfkens and Willemyn- 
 kens, 50 ; W holesome repast for the soule in her pilgrim¬ 
 age; Soul’s Progress to the Celestial Canaan; Inventory 
 of the Goods of Superstition; The last will of S. J. Pres¬ 
 byter; Spiritual duel between a Christian and Satan ; Pil¬ 
 grim in his Conflicts; Quarle’s Pilgrim in his Emblems,51; 
 Tilenus, or examination of the Triers; Herbert’s (Geo.) 
 Pilgiimage, a poem; Pilgrim’s Dialogue between Life and 
 Death, 52 ; Spiritual Journey, from the Dutch; Reading’s 
 Guide to the Holy City; Pilgrim’s pass to the New Jeru¬ 
 salem; Pordage’s Progress of a Soul from Babylon; The 
 evout I ilgiim to the \ irgin ; Philothea’s Pilgrimage to 
 
 Perfection; Pilgrim’s Progress by Candle-light, 53; Pa¬ 
 trick s Parable of the Pilgrim, 54. In the analysis of the 
 earlier of these singular and rare books, will be found an 
 accurate picture of Popery, painted by herself.—Bunyan’s 
 Pilgrim's Progress written in the den or cell of his jail, 
 like the dismal den which he describes in Doubting Castle, 
 iii. 89, 142. 
 
 * Pilgrimage , objections against, iii. 93, 175, 234—* Two 
 requisites for pilgrims, iii. 226. 
 
 *Pillar to Lot’s wife, iii. 137, 228—*To warn from Doubt¬ 
 ing Castle, iii. 143—*To the fight with Apollyon, iii. 206, 
 208—'*To the death of Maul, the sophist, iii. 211—*On 
 the death of Giant Despair, iii. 229. 
 
 Plain-dealing not offensive to sincere inquirers, i. 719_And 
 
 faithfulness, ii. 269. 
 
 ^Pliable, iii. 91—Returns to Destruction, iii. 92, 93, 117. 
 Poems , Scriptural—The Book of Ruth, ii. 390. 
 
 Poetical Treatises and verses by Bunyan, interspersed in his 
 works, excepting the Pilgrim's Progress , i. 63-66, 126; 
 
 ii. 84, 215, 292, 390-412, 575, 576, 578-590, 657 ; iii. 
 253, 374, 399, 588, 589, 726-737, 737-745, 747-762; 
 and on the copper-plate map of the Order and Causes of 
 Salvation and Damnation, iii. 336. 
 
 * Poetry interspersed in the Pilgrim's Progress .-—Part I., un¬ 
 der the fifteen cuts, and iii. 85-87, 96, 100,102, 103, 104, 
 110, 114, 116, 120, 125, 132, 137, 138, 143, 145, 146, 
 150, 151, 153, 159, 167 ; Part II., preface, under two cuts, 
 178, 181, 188, 190, 193, 195, 204, 205, 206, 208, 21.1, 
 215, 219, 220, 223, 229, 230, 232, 235, 239. 
 
 Points and Pantables explained, ii. 235, note. 
 
 Polygamy first practised by the seed of Cain, ii. 452. 
 Pomponius Algerius , his remarkable experience, iii. 530. 
 
 Pope , that cursed monster, ii. 426—*A giant, crazy and stiff, 
 
 iii. 116. 
 
 Popery , the mother of harlots, iii. 399. 
 
 Popish penances, i, 448. 
 
 Portrait of a dishonest dealer, iii. 636—Of an extortioner, 
 especially women, iii, 637. 
 
 Positive precepts of great importance, ii. 293. 
 
 *Prating-row, the residence of Talkative, iii. 121. 
 
 Prayer —Devil may tempt a man to pray, i. 23—For others, 
 i. 28—Devil more usually tempts a man not to pray, i. 28 
 —Importunate, its reward, i. 38, 638; iii. 758—Boldness 
 at the throne of grace, i. 360, 642—Must be for what God 
 has promised, i. 426—Only in Christ’s name, i. 426, 617, 
 62o, and note—Prevails, as the Holy Spirit indites, i. 426, 
 627 ; iii. 351—Mental and verbal, i. 577, 623—Private 
 wrestlings, i. 588—Boldness of access in, i. 589—Real, 
 may be without words, i. 605—It urges on the pilgrim, 
 i. 614—An ordinance of God, to bring the soul into holy 
 familiarity with Him—Opens the heart to God—Seven 
 things essential to — Must be sincere — In the Spirit, 
 i. 623, 626, 627—What is spiritually enlightened, i. 623, 
 632 ; ii. 225—Must not be by fits and starts—Not frothy 
 and babbling, but sensible, feeling, and affectionate—Lip- 
 labour, not prayer, i. 624—Must be the pouring out of the 
 heart—Right prayer sees God only—Christ the only way 
 of access to God in, i. 625—Christ’s union to the soul in 
 —Must be guided by the Word—For the good of the 
 Church, i. 626—With humble submission to God’s will— 
 Aided by the Spirit, i. 627—The starting holes and back 
 lanes the heart hath in, i. 630—Sometimes cannot after¬ 
 wards be expressed—More groans than words—As Moses, 
 when flying from Pharaoh—Must be continued till we get 
 to glory, i. 631—Public prayer must be in our mother 
 tongue, and experimental—Praying and building on our 
 faith inseparable—Must be with the understanding, i. 632 
 —Forced by the anguish of the soul—Difference between 
 saying prayers and praying, illustrated by the case of two 
 beggars—Needs not a bishop in a surplice to say, ‘ O Lord, 
 
 1 beseech thee, deliver my soul.’—Such need no book, i. 
 633—Perseverance in, as woman of Canaan—Often uttered 
 when unknown to ourselves, i. 634—Be not content with 
 mere words in, i. 635—The great object of prayer is for the 
 spirit of prayer—All ought to engage in—Eight prayer and 
 labour for the object go together—Five instructions to 
 Many prayers are a mockery to God—Sacrifice of fools, 
 
TI1E INDEX. 
 
 7 S 5 
 
 i. 636—Long, tor .applause of men—By forms are like a 
 painted man—Sensible of a sense of senselessness, calls for, 
 i. 637—Cautions not to throw off—Encouragements to, 
 i. 638—Sad state of those who never pray, i. 639—Advice 
 to all that really pray, i. 640—Fall of Christians for want 
 of, i. 645—Praying souls live near the throne of grace, 
 i. 647—Pray, and look up above the ark to the throne, 
 
 i. 648—Man mute as a fish till God’s thunders reach him, 
 
 1 656—Hunger drives men to the cupboard, i. 662—Cries 
 tor Christ’s coining to destroy Antichrist, ii. 81—The j 
 Christian ought to pray always—Encouraged by parables, ! 
 
 ii. 217—Praise, the highest order of, ii. 224—God heareth j 
 the heart without the mouth, but not the mouth without 
 the heart—The Pharisee prayed with himself, not with 
 God, ii. 226—Of the Publican expounded—Humble not 
 one of God’s white boys, ii. 258—Ilis confession, ii. 259 
 —Ilis birth-privileges fly like chaff—Men often tick and 
 toy with this prayer, ii. 260—The Publican’s the highest 
 wisdom—Difficult under convictions of sin, ii. 261—Many 
 pray who know not God, ii. 266—Gesture in, of vital 
 importance, ii. 268—Must not go too far, nor fall short, 
 
 ii. 270—Heart and mouth must go together, with glory 
 and gravity, humility and sincerity; flouting compliments 
 and flattery must be laid aside, ii. 271—A praying man 
 outstrips others as a star does a clod, ii. 276— To be 
 made standing, kneeling, walking, lying, or sitting, ii. 278 
 —In public attended with peculiar temptations, ii. 665— 
 What is acceptable, ii. 686 — *'Persevering, effectual, 
 
 iii. 155—The first sign of spiritual life, iii. 296—The hand 
 and pen, the Holy Spirit; the ink and paper, the penitent 
 —Copy of the petition of wounded Mansoul to Emmanuel, 
 iii. 352—Repeating a form of, or what is called saying 
 prayers, a sad delusion, iii. 687—Prayerful spirit full of 
 heaven, iii. 740. 
 
 Prayer, Booh of Common, cannot teach us to pray, i. 54, 55, 
 627—Supposed by a J.P. to have been used from the days 
 of the apostles, i. 56—Not to be touched, i. 62—Bunyan’s 
 suffexdngs by, and opinion of—Made up of Popish scraps 
 and friars’ devices, i. 624—Some are hot for forms, but 
 know not the power of prayer, i. 625—Paul and the 
 apostles could have made a common prayer as well as any 
 pope or proud prelate, but they knew not how to pray 
 saving by the Spirit, i. 627—Absurdities of a set form, 
 
 i. 628, 640—A thousand forms would not teach us how to 
 pray—Prayers for particular days, and minute directions 
 when to stand or kneel, contrary to the fear of God—Can¬ 
 not open the eyes—Not God’s ordinance—Patched up, and 
 expressly forbidden by God, i. 628—All the prayer-books 
 in the world cannot lift the heart to God, i. 631—Stinted 
 forms the invention of man, i. 634—Ties up the Spirit of 
 God, i. 635—Resisting the Spirit by a form of man’s in¬ 
 venting—A very juggle of the Devil—Awful state of 
 those who persecute Christians for not using it—Cursed 
 presumption to impose it—A form without the power— 
 Common prayer lauded in the alehouse—The Spirit of 
 prayer found in jail—Traditions of men leading to pre¬ 
 tended worship, Antichristian, i. 640. 
 
 Prayer, Forms of- —Lord’s prayer, not a stinted form, i. 625, 
 and note—Arguments against, i. 628—Lord’s prayer (so 
 called), i. 629—Solemn import of ‘ Our Father ’—Many 
 say ‘ thy kingdom come,’ who would shrink from sudden 
 judgment, i. 630—The Lord’s prayer not used as a form 
 by the apostles—Not even for children—They muzzle up 
 the soul, i. 635—Difference between saying prayers and 
 praying, iii. 687—Lord’s prayer versified, iii. 750. 
 
 Prayer-meeting for the choice of a husband, iii. 622. 
 
 Prayer-meetings of women only, four reasons for, answered, 
 
 ii. 661. 
 
 Preachers —Some are blundering and raw-headed, i. 374 
 —Faithful, cried out against by the world, i. 493—For 
 filthy lucre’s sake damned, iii. 699, 723. 
 
 Preaching for hire, the wages of unrighteousness, ii. 201—To 
 the spirits in prison, the meaning of, iii. 678. 
 
 Prejudice , an angry, ill-conditioned fellow, with sixty deaf 
 men, guard Ear-gate, iii. 276—Kicked and tumbled about 
 in the dirt, iii. 282—Slain, iii. 295. 
 
 * Prejudice and Ill-Kill cast dirt upon Godly-man, iii. 230. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 Presumption to hope without new birth—Never timid nor 
 humble—Satan’s laughing-stock, but hates the humble, 
 >• 93 — Door of mercy bolted against, i. 94—Cautions 
 against, ii. 7—* Asleep on the road, iii. 103—^Hanged, 
 iii. 192, 213. 
 
 Pride —The greatest in dead men, i. 704—An iron sinew, 
 i. 705—Of a library, or a closet, ii. 537—An enormous 
 evil, ii. 567—A picture of it, sticks close to nature, iii. 642 
 —Reason why professors give way to—Its evil effects, 
 iii. 645. 
 
 Priests the biggest sinners, yet objects of mercy, i. 73—Theii 
 beastly single lives, ii. 149. 
 
 Principles and practice must be in unison—What are right 
 ones, i. 516—Formed by the Word, to be solemnly ad¬ 
 hered to, ii. 593. 
 
 Prison , with the Bible, a blessed school, i. 47—Meditations 
 to the heart of suffering saints and reigning sinners, i. 67. 
 
 Prisoners for conscience’ sake highly blessed, i. 48. 
 
 Private judgment essential to true religion—To neglect it is 
 to put out my own eyes, and commit me to the blind to 
 lead me, ii. 594. 
 
 Privileges , to go to the extreme of, dangerous—Standing on 
 the brink, ii. 429. 
 
 Profane , the, person is a muck-heap of sin, i. 386. 
 
 * Profession, worthless without works, iii. 186. 
 
 Professors, mere holiday saints—Many such will seek to 
 
 enter into heaven, but will not be able, i. 372—Some 
 hang their religion up on week-days, to put on on Sun- 
 days, i. 377—Knowing ones miss of heaven, why? i. 384 
 —Bunyan’s trumpet put to the ears of—The kingdom 
 swarming with tattling, covetous, wanton, formal, legal, 
 temporizing, ignorant professors, all found wanting, and 
 full of amazement, i. 388—May go far, and yet perish, 
 i- 511—May be members of churches, possess honour and 
 talent as ministers, and be in a false hope, i. 512—Sown in 
 the church by the Devil, i. 619—Some are running on 
 their heads, i. 656—With fancies and fooleries catching, 
 i. 678—Causes of falling away, ii, 522—Who depart not 
 from iniquity are a pest, the breath of a dragon, slay their 
 children and themselves, ii. 530—Wicked ones peculiar 
 objects of divine wrath, ii. 542—Drown others in perdi¬ 
 tion, ii. 544—A scandal to religion, how to be dealt with, 
 iii. 122, 123, 133—The lieavy-heeled, lazy, wanton, and 
 foolish ones, will never gain heaven, iii. 382 — Those 
 who are unprofitable, a mock and reproach to religion, 
 iii. 573. 
 
 * Promise, a key to unlock all doubts, iii. 142. 
 
 Promises must be applied by divine power, i. 15—Applied 
 powerfully, i. 30-33, 38—Nature of absolute, and differ¬ 
 ence of conditional, i. 25. 
 
 Prosperity and happiness require double watchfulness, iii. 356 
 —The ways of, iii. 631. 
 
 Proverbs , the book of, consists of hard, dark, and pithy sen¬ 
 tences, i. 744. 
 
 Providence, how to be understood, ii. 11. 
 
 * Prudence, Miss, iii. 108, 199. 
 
 Psalms of degrees, the supposed meaning of, i. 577. 
 
 Public worship, the Devil suffers his children to attend to 
 the outward forms of, ii. 443—Why women are covered, 
 and men uncovered, during, ii. 672, 673. 
 
 Publican, officers that served the Romans and themselves 
 too—Like informers and bumbailiffs, ii. 219—When Jews 
 they were the scorn of the Pharisees, but objects of pity to 
 the Saviour, ii. 220—An open outside sinner—The Pha¬ 
 risee a filthy inside one—To reject the Pharisee and to 
 receive the publican a wonderment to all, ii. 222. 
 
 Punishments for sin in this world are short, in hell they are 
 everlasting, ii. 678—Of children, iii. 597, and note. 
 
 Q. 
 
 Quakers, see Sectarian. 
 
 Qualifications for heaven, i. 377. 
 
 * Questions and answers profitable and curious, iii. 203. 
 
 Quickened with Christ, its meaning, ii. 20. 
 
 Quickening of the soul, i. 546. 
 
 <J9 
 
7SG 
 
 THE INDEX. 
 
 R. 
 
 Rainbow, its spiritual meaning, i. 648, 649 ; ii. 490. 
 
 Ranters , see Sectarian. 
 
 *Ready-to-halt, Mr., iii. 223—*His happy death, iii. 241. 
 Reason insufficient and impure, ii. 286. 
 
 Redeemer compared to the sun, iii. 754. See God—Christ. 
 Redemption , a mysterious act, i. 303—Places us in a bet¬ 
 ter relation than Adam before the fall, i. 415—By Christ, 
 ten demonstrations that he paid the price, i. 416 — Its 
 plenteousness, i. 604—The knowledge of, i. 611—Com- 
 pelleth to good works, i. 613—A great encouragement to 
 prayer, i. 614. 
 
 Reflections on Christ our light, i. 431. 
 
 Reform should begin at home, ii. 45. 
 
 Reformation mistaken for godliness, i. 10. 
 
 Regeneration, or the new birth, what it is, i. 10, 694, 695; 
 ii. 712, 729 Convictions got up the wrong way, harden, 
 16—Its pangs, i. 26, 27—Convictions of sin essential, 
 i. 494- Not to be slighted, i. 495—A trying work, as by 
 fire, i. 706—Of the self-righteous, like God driving a 
 came] through the eye of a needle, i. 720—No easy work, 
 i. 725—Devil counterfeits the new birth and the work of 
 grace, ii. 153—Signs and evidences, ii. 166—Bunyan’s 
 last sermon on John i. 13, ii. 755—All new-born babes 
 cry, ii. 756—Christ received the new-born in a golden 
 garment of righteousness—All have the features of heaven, 
 n. 757—Take of their father’s possessions—Obedience re- 
 cn^ re * ’ Ike clothing of the unconverted, iii. 
 
 89— Exchanged for fine raiment, iii. 102, 190—*Mark or 
 seal on Christian’s forehead, iii. 102—The war-cry against 
 tallen Mansoul, iii. 276—Alderman Swearing, Whoring, 
 Fury, Stand-to-lies, Drunkenness, and Cheating, slain with 
 one shot, iii.^278—Mansoul must be pulled down and re¬ 
 built, iii. 293 Man insensible to its importance, iii. 713 
 - Its necessity, iii. 740—Illustrated by an egg, iii. 749. 
 Relative duties, disobedience to parents strikingly described 
 —Disorderly servants, a house iniquity to be corrected, ii. 
 5o5—Parents bringing up children for hell, ii. 536—Spi¬ 
 ritual and temporal—As Abraham commanded his chil¬ 
 dren, ii. 555 Beading the Word and prayer—Masters of 
 families have some pastoral duties, ii. 556—Provide for 
 family—Husband to wife, ii. 557—To children, ii. 558— 
 To servants, ii. 559—Wife to husband, ii. 560—To an 
 unconverted relative—Children to parents, ii. 562—Ne¬ 
 glect of, awfully punished, as Ishmael, Hophni, Phinehos, 
 Absalom, ii. 563—Servants to masters, ii 564—Neigh¬ 
 bours, ii. 565—Sin interfering with; covetousness, pride, 
 uncleanness, ii. 567, 568—Punishment of children, iii. 
 597, and note—IIow a master may ruin an apprentice, iii. 
 606—Advantage of godly parents, iii. 164—Landlord, 
 husband, master, iii. 699. 
 
 * Reliever protects Christiana, iii. 183. 
 
 * Relics at the Interpreter’s; Eve’s apple, the mount on which 
 
 Abraham was to have offered Isaac, Jacob’s ladder, iii. 204. 
 Religious observances , without change of heart, rejected i 7 
 
 No. 16; iii. 289. ’ ' ’ 
 
 Remission of sin: Christ, in the doctrine of the gospel, remits 
 or retains sin, iii. 414. 
 
 Repentance , not mere reformation, i. 9—Of Cain and Judas 
 saved them not, i. 317—Many tests of true and false 
 repentance, i. 384—In man a change of mind, but in God 
 a change of dispensations, ii. 461—Followed by doing, ii. 
 573—True, arises from a sight and sense of sin, ii. 600; 
 
 m. 656—Without it hope and life die together, ii. 663_ 
 
 *Folly of deterring, iii. 217—Of sick-bed only temporary, 
 iii. 580, 649, 650, 662—Denied, and the soul left to 
 despair, iii. 582, and note. 
 
 Reprobate, or cast out, i. 271 ; ii. 201 ; their character in this 
 world, i. 347—Will be stopped at the gate of heaven, i. 375. 
 Reprobates, Cain and Balaam, ii. 449. 
 
 Reprobation asserted, and its opposers answered, ii. 336_ 
 
 What it is, ii. 337—Its antiquity, ii. 338—Its causes, ii. 
 339—Unchangeableness, ii. 341—Whether it is the cause 
 of condemnation, ii. 342—The question answered, Have j 
 the reprobate cause to quarrel with God? ii. 345—Does it 
 hinder any one from seeking salvation? ii. 346—Ought ' 
 
 every creature to be preached to ? ii. 348—Is it possible 
 for the non-elect to receive the gospel? ii. 349—Why it is 
 tendered to all, ii. 352 — Placed in opposition to election, 
 see the Map of Salvation, iii. 336. 
 
 Resistance, Captain, killed by Tisiphone, one of the Furies, 
 iii. 259. 
 
 Resurrection, of Christ, sanctifies, i. 324—Those who rose 
 at the crucifixion of Christ ascended with him, i. 418—Of 
 the body, i. 596; ii. 83—Some sleep away its power, ii. 14 
 —First of the just, because Christ is risen—The members 
 o the body P aith in the, promotes good works—Is an 
 undergirder to the soul, ii. 85—Meaning of the, ii. 86— 
 he resurrection of the body proved by its being a temple 
 of the Holy Ghost, ii. 87—Fully proved from seven par- 
 ticulars, ii. 88 —The manner of, ii. 91—Flesh and blood 
 s all not inherit heaven, ii. 93—Body sown a natural, 
 raised a spiritual, ii. 95 —Types or mementos of, ii. 96— 
 
 Wood, hay, and stubble will be burned up, ii. 98_ 
 
 The reward of the just, ii. 101-Of the bodies of the 
 wicked, ii. 104—Because Christ is the sovereign, ii. 105 
 --The manner of, ii. 106—Talons of a dreadful ghost will 
 fasten on the souls of the wicked at the, ii. 107—Why 
 called the sure mercies of David, ii. 306. 
 
 Reversion, the Christian’s best estate, i. 579. 
 
 Rich, to be wickedly, an awful state, iii. 674. 
 
 Riches, a bone without marrow, fit only for dogs, i. 735_ 
 
 Beasons why they are in many cases a curse, iii. 676. 
 Riddles, ,the second Adam was before the first, i. 524— 
 Christ’s love, to comprehend that which cannot be com¬ 
 prehended, to know that which passes knowledge, ii. 15— 
 Their solutions, iii. 219, 220—The Sacrifice, Lamb, Bock, 
 Cow, Door, iii. 308. 
 
 Righteous man described, i, 747, 765—Twelve rules to 
 judge whether a man is one, i. 765—Can alone do righ¬ 
 teousness, ii. 244—His prayers alone acceptable, ii. 249. 
 Righteous man's desires , i. 751—Pure in the spring, but 
 polluted in the channels, i. 753—Bun both ways, i. 754 
 Buies to know which predominates, i. 755—To be with 
 Christ, i. 758 He desires a handful, God gives him a sea¬ 
 ful, i. 761—They carry us to God on their back, if tea 
 thousand oppose it, i. 763. 
 
 Righteousness, some follow, but never obtain, i. 447. See 
 Self-righteousness— Of Christ imputed, i. 748—Produces 
 iG practice, i. 749—Of Christ, safe and everlasting, ii. 
 Iu8, 142—IIow it is to be obtained, ii. 170—Twofold, 
 upon and into, ii. 246—Of man and of God distinct, 
 ii. 286—Thrives best in afflictions, ii. 720—Can only die 
 by suicide, ii. 721—^Fourfold, iii. 191. 
 
 River of God, or water of life, iii. 138, 228, 539—Buns 
 through the heart of the tree of life, Christ, iii. 455. 
 
 ™Robin and the spider, an emblem, iii. 187. 
 
 Run for heaven; the devil, the law, sin, death, and hell are 
 after you, iii. 382. 
 
 Running, fear of not running fast enough, i. 2S5. 
 
 Ruth, a poetic translation, ii. 290. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sabbath, Jewish, abrogated, and Christian enforced, ii. 361 
 —Unknown by light of nature, ii. 362—Sabbath-breaking 
 not known until the law was given on Sinai—Sabbath¬ 
 keeping first commanded by Moses, ii. 363—To com¬ 
 memorate Israel’s deliverance from Egypt—When the 
 Sabbath was given to the Israelites, were the Gentiles 
 required to keep it? ii. 365—Answered in the negative, 
 ii. 366—Whether the Saturday Sabbath fell with other 
 Jewish rites, or was it re-imposed on Christians? ii. 367 
 I he ceremonies enjoined on its observation are dead— 
 a shadow of things to come—therefore it is abolished, ii. 
 424; iii. 369—Part of the ministration of death, ii. 370— 
 The first, or Lord’s day, instituted, ii. 361; iii. 371 — 
 Stamped with divine approbation, ii. 372—Used by New 
 Testament saints, ii. 383—Convictions of sin by the Holy 
 Ghost for not keeping the first day, a proof that God 
 sanctioned and sanctifies it, ii. 385—A type of Christ and 
 of the millennium, ii. 424—Why observed—Changed by 
 Christ, iii. 600. 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 787 
 
 Sabbath-breaking —Obeying the king's Book of Sports —vio¬ 
 lating the book of the King of Kings, attended with sharp 
 convictions—Game of cat, or tip cat, authorized to be 
 played on Sunday, i. 8—Why sports and plays authorized 
 by the Book of Sports, i. 8, No. 20, note—Its effects, i. 548. 
 
 Sackcloth of hair, i. 733, and note. 
 
 Sacraments are God’s love-letters and love-tokens, i. 757 — 
 Have no saving power, iii. 752. 
 
 Baptism, the symbol of regeneration, to be partaken by saints, 
 
 i. 386—In or with water does not make Christians, i. 546, 
 and note—The Holy Spirit accompanying, i. 757, and note 
 —Antichrist baptizes with blasphemy, ii. 50—Pompous 
 names, seven thousand to be destroyed, ii. 51—In Christ, 
 not in water, is a putting on Christ, ii. 155—Noah in the 
 ark dead to the world, and alive to God, a type of, ii. 482 
 —By dipping, ii. 510, 627—Difference in judgment about 
 water-baptism no bar to communion, ii. 588, 616—And 
 the supper, figurative ordinances, ii. 604—Unlike circum¬ 
 cision, and not an initiatory ordinance, ii. 606, 618— 
 Spiritual baptism alone essential, ii. 609—Paul made light 
 of water-baptism, ii. 613—Eighteen reasons why water- 
 baptism should not be a bar to communion, or wall of 
 separation, ii. 614—Christening, if relied on, a fatal 
 error, ii. 615—Ten reasons why visible saints should 
 commune together, ii. 616—Baptism and the Lord’s Sup¬ 
 per perverted to afflict the church, ii. 622—Of the Spirit, 
 
 ii. 623—Of the Spirit the one baptism essential to salva¬ 
 tion, that of water is only the outward sign, ii. 624—Of 
 Christ is better than water-baptism, ii. 625—An outward 
 show, ii. 626—The wall of separation, ii. 628—Edification 
 greater than water baptism, ii. 62 9 — Mr. Henry Jesse’s j udg- 
 inent as to its being a wall of separation, ii. 642—A mar¬ 
 riage with Christ, ii. 653—Love, and not baptism, the 
 badge of Christ, ii. 653, 715. 
 
 Lord's Supper, if not attended to in a right spirit, is used as 
 a hand by Satan, i. 558—Terms of communion, ii. 591— 
 With whom I dare or dare not hold communion at the 
 Lord’s table, ii. 602—Only with visible saints by calling, 
 605, 615—A church ordinance, baptism an individual 
 duty or ordinance, ii. 630. 
 
 Sacrifices of a broken spirit acceptable, i. 689—Paul ready 
 to be offered—Made by God’s people, accepted, i. 724. 
 
 Safety of the Christian, i. 598. 
 
 Saffron blooms, blossoms, and is ripe in a night, i. 760. 
 
 Saints' enjoyments inexpressible, i. 48—Always in broils 
 and suits, i. 191—Justified in God’s sight before conver¬ 
 sion, i. 307—Their heart-wanderings and miscarriages, i. 
 353—Triumph in Christ, i. 427—Armies of heaven en¬ 
 compass about them, i. 469—Bodies saved by Christ, i. 
 529—Looked upon most falsely as turbulent and factious, 
 
 i. 630—How they are described in holy writ—Will know 
 his love in eight degrees, ii. 29—Or professors, golden, 
 silver, earthy, and wooden, ii. 518—The salt of God, ii. 
 544—On earth in working clothes, in heaven with a holi¬ 
 day suit, iii. 497—Warlike men, that can endure hard¬ 
 ships iii. 518—Generally poor and despised, iii. 676— 
 Despised more than dogs, iii. 677—hated in this world, 
 but envied in eternity, iii. 688, 695—They have all their 
 evil things in this life, iii. 692—Despised because they 
 cannot, like Pilate, speak Hebrew, Greek and Latin, iii. 695. 
 
 Salvation sure and certain to the believer, i. 232—One of 
 Christ’s lost, and Christ is overthrown, i. 234—By grace— 
 What it is to be saved, wliat it is to be saved by grace— 
 Who are the saved—Their evidences—Why by grace, i. 
 337—Hath many steps from eternity to eternity—Before 
 calling, i. 338—Six causes of salvation, i. 339—Perfect, 
 the soul filled with bliss in heaven, i. 341—Proved— 
 Fearful, dreadful, soul-astonishing, and amazing, i. 349— 
 Are there few that be saved?—None seek but those who 
 are alarmed, i. 364 — Put man’s righteousness, God’s 
 mercy, and Christ’s redemption together, and it will not 
 save a man, though the last two alone will save to the 
 utterm. st, i. 609—*The wall of, iii. 102. 
 
 Samsell, a village at which Bunyan preached, i. 50. 
 
 Samson , history of, cr Judges xiii.-xvi. paraphrased in verse, 
 
 ii. 393. 
 
 * Sancti.Jica.tion, how effected, iii. 98—*The bath, iii. 189. 
 
 Sanctuary, the, specially defended, iii. 425. 
 
 * Satan, suggestions of, mistaken for our thoughts—*The 
 
 Imagination accessible to, iii. 115. 
 
 Satisfaction for sin, ii. 294. 
 
 Saved , what it is to be saved, i. 327—By grace, i. 336—Six 
 causes, i. 339—Six gradations from God’s decree before time 
 
 * to glory, i. 341—In heaven, i. 342—Fearers and trusters— 
 
 i. 347, 348—Character before conversion, i. 349—Still 
 comparatively few saved, i. 379-384—Compared to a hand¬ 
 ful, gleanings, jewels, a remnant, i. 380—Small, as the re¬ 
 fined metal compared with the dross, i. 382—Reasons why 
 few are saved and many miss of heaven, i. 383—Yet a 
 countless number, i. 654. 
 
 Saviour: what is included in the word, i. 402—Meaning of 
 the word, i. 419. 
 
 * Saying and doing, the difference between, iii. 122. 
 
 Scandal, inventor and receiver equally sinful, ii. 679. 
 Scandals of professors, how they arise, i. 619. 
 
 Sceptre shall not depart from Judah, how interpreted by the 
 Jews, ii. 145. 
 
 *Seal on Christian’s forehead, iii. 102—*On those who are 
 washed, iii. 189—*Set upon the pilgrims, iii. 188, 189. 
 Seasonable counsel or advice to sufferers, ii. 691. 
 
 * Secret, an angel, iii., 174. 
 
 Sectarians: Ranters’cursed sentiments, i. 11; ii. 133, 150, 
 margin, 182—Quakers’ errors of persons who assumed 
 the name, i. 21; ii. 150, margin, 153, 211, 286—Sects 
 severely reproved, Quakers, Ranters, a sect of foolish 
 men, which believed that Christ’s sufferings on earth were 
 merely typical of what he suffers in his saints, i. 323— 
 Conduct of Ranters in prayer described, i. 440—Ranters 
 denied future punishment, ii. 106—Quakers, in 1656, put 
 on a peculiar dress, ii. 153—Questions to Quakers, ii. 175 
 —Bunyan’s meaning of the word sectarian, ii. 219— 
 Quakers set up humanity as gospel, ii. 313—Jewish sects, 
 
 ii. 327, and note—William Penn and Jesuit Campian 
 agree on justification, ii. 333—Sectarian pride an iniquity 
 —What sectarianism is to be attributed to, ii. 538— 
 Titles, as Baptist, Independent, &e., whence they came, 
 ii. 649—Bunyan eminently a non-sectarian, iii. 383, and 
 note—Ranters turned grace into wantonness, iii. 724. 
 
 Secure, Captain, iii. 292. 
 
 Self-denial, the yoke and cross of Christ, i. 734—What is 
 requisite to make it acceptable, ii. 687. 
 
 Self-examination, motives, i. 294; iii. 721—By old cove¬ 
 nant, i. 554—Should be daily, i. 733—Rules for, ii. 166 
 —Its advantages, ii. 168—helps, ii. 540. 
 
 Self-knowledge, its best source, i. 432—Difficult, ii. 553. 
 Self-righteous go a cleaner way to hell than their neigh¬ 
 bours, i. 351—A painted devil in fine clothes, i. 719— 
 Attempt to swim through God’s burning wrath in vessels 
 of bulrushes, ii. 268. 
 
 Self-righteousness, three awful evils in it, i. 315—Earning 
 heaven with our fingers’-ends, ii. 132—Ts sin, ii.. 200—A 
 damning transgression, ii. 231—Can only entitle to tem¬ 
 poral, and not to eternal life—The seat of the devil, ii. 
 236—Itcleaveth to our nature, ii. 237. 
 
 Sense of senselessness in prayer, i. 637. 
 
 Sermon, a smart one on the barren fig-tree, iii. 328. 
 
 Sermon on the Mount paraphrased in verse, ii. 396. 
 
 Shaddai, the founder of Mansoul, iii. 255. 
 
 * Shadow [or fear] of death, a dismal valley, iii. 114, 161,20S, 
 
 214—^Better to pass through than reside in, iii. 209. 
 
 * Shame, Mr, an impudent fellow, iii. 119, 224. 
 
 * Shepherds, at the Delectable Mountains, entertain pilgrims, 
 
 iii. 144, 230. 
 
 * Shepherd's boy, his heart’s-ease and happy song, iii. 206. 
 Sick-bed beset with ten thousand fears—Suggestions of the 
 
 devil—Sightof death and the grave, even of hell itself, i. 340. 
 
 * Silver-mine, dangerous to pilgrims, iii. 136, 228. 
 
 * Simple asleep on the road, iii. 103—Hanged, wi. 192, 213. 
 Simplicity of the gospel difficult to retain, i. 391—Described, 
 
 ii. 677. 
 
 Sin, the unpardonable, wilful, and malicious, against the 
 Holy Ghost, i. 18, 24, 25, 31, 34, 204, 567—Permitted 
 by God, i. 24 —Great sin draws out great grace, i. 38— 
 Must be seen, hated, and cleansed, i. 93—Fears of having 
 
788 
 
 THE INDEX. 
 
 committed the unpardonable—They that would be saved 
 have not committed it, i. 102, 155 374—What it is, 
 i. 103—Bin by the help of the soul destroys it, i. 129—The 
 best saint the most sensible of, i. 160—The burden of, 
 i. 210—A tang of, in all our good works, i. 307—A debt 
 forgiven when man had nothing to pay, i. 313—How to 
 be acknowledged, i. 327—Mystical or spiritual ones, i. 373 
 —The unpardonable described—Feedeth upon some pro¬ 
 fessors, i. 374, 375. See Iniquity —Against the Holy 
 Ghost, a rejection of Christ, i. 392—The least sin fatal, 
 i. 406—Its beginning to be avoided, i. 486—The conduit- 
 pipe for the devil’s spawn, i, 505—A terrible soul-drown¬ 
 ing flood and destroying tempest, i. 516—Indwelling, but 
 not reigning in saints, i. 645—A fearful thing, i. 682— 
 Makes men fools and asses—Its gradations, i. 683 ; ii. 
 678 ; iii. 711—The great enemy to God and to the soul, 
 i. 684—It stinketh, i. 697—Its hiding holes, i. 706— 
 Danger of indulging the least, i. 713—It is like blood¬ 
 hounds, i. 742—As a spreading plague, has no bounds, ii. 
 4—Its nature and aggravations, ii. 25—Tends to sacrifice 
 its associates, even our children, to devils, ii. 26—The 
 greater in our view, the greater encouragement to seek 
 pardon, ii. 137—original, brings all under the curse, ii. 
 166—Its enormous evils, ii. 435—Even after remarkable 
 deliverances, as Noah, Lot, Gideon, ii. 493—It stupifies 
 and darkens the powers of the soul, ii. 512—An active 
 beast, polluting and defiling, ii. 524—A smooth-tongued 
 enchanter, ii. 533—A bold, impudent beggar, the worm 
 of hell—Caution to stir up to watch against, ii. 575- 
 Confession of, to God only, ii. 681—*The burthen of, 
 upon the awakened conscience, iii. 89—^Weighs down in 
 the Slough of Despond, iii. 92—*Sent to Morality to get 
 rid of it, iii. 94—* Wishes relief at the wicket-gate, iii. 
 97—* Falls off by a sight of Christ crucified, iii. 102— 
 "Indwelling sin the Christian’s plague, and its antidote, 
 iii- 108—^Temptations and severe trials follow great 
 enjoyments, iii. Ill—To be as utterly rooted out as pos¬ 
 sible, iii. 361—Christ’s death does not cleanse all from 
 original sin, iii. 597—Sins follow one another, like links 
 in a chain, iii. 610—Makes the memory of the dead to 
 rot, iii. 656. 
 
 * Sincere, the shepherd, iii. 144—* The town that Littlefaith 
 dwelt in, iii. 147. 
 
 Sincerity and simplicity essential, iii. 729—And uprightness 
 poetically described, iii. 741. 
 
 Sinful indulgences a committing suicide, iii. 611. 
 
 Singing in public worship—Sion’s songs must be sung by 
 Sion’s sons, i. 473, and note; iii. 496, and note—How to 
 be performed, iii. 496. 
 
 Sinners, the greatest are the objects of divine mercy, i. 71 — 
 Shining monuments—Keasons why the biggest should be 
 first offered mercy, i. 73—Instances, i. 74—If the big are 
 invited, the little may surely come—If the door of mercy 
 is wide enough for a giant, it is for a dwarf—Sins may be 
 comparatively little, but sensibly great, i. 76, 94— 
 Ephesian sinners greatest among Gentiles, and Jeru¬ 
 salem among the Jews, i. 77—Great, when converted, 
 the best preachers, as the Samaritan woman—Biggest 
 are Satan’s colonels and captains, breeders of sin, i. 78— 
 Manasseh, a ringleader in devilism, when converted, the 
 land reformed by him, i. 79—Little thanks from little 
 sinners saved, i. 82—Greatest invited first, i. 89—Great, 
 shoulder the devil out of the way—You are called by 
 Christ—Angels make a lane for you, i. 90—Come to God 
 in difficulties, i. 210—Publicans, harlots, thieves, pos¬ 
 sessed, and bedlams, i. 263—Great ones specially invited 
 to Christ, i. 347—Named in Scripture, i. 348—Behave 
 strangely to God, i. 350—Would please God with dainty 
 dishes rather than be converted, i. 351—Profane, searching 
 observations to, i. 386—Convinced who are on the pot¬ 
 ter s wheel, i. 387—Pull God’s vengeance upon them¬ 
 selves, i. 478—Chief of, saved, instances, i. 536, 563— 
 
 I heir awful state, i. 554—Must apply to Christ first, not 
 wash themselves and then apply to be cleansed, i. 559— 
 Many are the devil’s asses and jack-puddings, i. 683 —Eat 
 husks like swine, i. 697—Their efforts to lead others into 
 sin, iii. 699 The Sinner and the Spider, a dialogue, iii. 752. 
 
 Singularity in godliness, be not ashamed of, ii. 545. 
 
 * Skill, the Physician, iii. 201—*His curious medicine, iii. 202. 
 Slander; if you cannot speak good, speak not bad, i. 279. 
 Slanders and reproaches , i. 45—The Christian’s ornament, 
 
 i. 46. 
 
 Slavery, Algerine, on white man, i. 119, and note. 
 
 Slaves, Englishmen sold as, under Charles II., iii. 256, and 
 note. 
 
 Slaying of the witnesses, ii. 64. 
 
 Sleep an emblem of death and the grave, ii. 111. 
 
 * Sleepy-head ruined, iii. 193. 
 
 *Sloth refuses deliverance, iii. 103—*Hanged, iii. 192, 213. 
 
 * Slothful's friend, an enchanted arbour, iii. 236. 
 
 Slot)fulness shuttethout Christ and shameth the soul, iii. 378. 
 * Sloiv-pace ruined by Simple, iii. 193. 
 
 * Snares thickly set in the dark valley, iii. 116. 
 
 Socinian, an inconsiderate and stupified rascal, i. 613. 
 
 Solemn warnings; ‘ fetch out the axe,’ iii. 579. 
 
 Solomon, a type of Christ in building the temple, iii. 465. 
 Solomon's Temple Spiritualized, or gospel light out of 
 
 the temple to open the glory of New Testament truths, 
 iii. 460—A type of gospel glory, iii. 462— Where built, 
 typical, iii. 465— How built, a type, iii. 466—The mate¬ 
 rials typical, iii. 466—Its double foundation, iii. 467— 
 Front to the east, to prevent sun-worship, iii. 468—The 
 two courts typical, iii. 469—The altar in the inner court, 
 iii. 469—Jachin and Boaz types of the apostles, iii. 470— 
 Snufiers, Snuff-dishes, types of reproof, iii. 488—Tongs for 
 the holy fire, iii. 489—The altar of incense and golden 
 censers, iii. 490—The flagons and chargers, iii. 494—The 
 holy and most holy, types of the church on earth and in 
 heaven, iii. 497—The vail, what it typifies, iii. 498—The 
 ark ot the covenant a type of Christ, iii. 501—The living 
 water flowing from under the gate, iii. 504—The High 
 Priest, iii. 505—Figures on the wall, iii. 509—Ornaments 
 typical, iii. 471—Outward glory a type of Christian life, 
 iii. 474—Large porch a type of the church’s bosom for 
 charity, iii. 474—The steps, gate, and pinnacles typical, 
 iii. 476—Porters and watchmen types of ministers, iii. 
 477—Door, a type of Christ, iii. 478—Windows a type of 
 the Word, iii. 48 i—The brazen oxen a type of ministers, 
 iii. 483 — The brazen bulls type of apostles, 484 — 
 Lavers, tables, and instruments, iii. 485—Golden candle¬ 
 sticks typical of the church, iii. 487. 
 
 Solomon's throne, a shadow or type, i. 649—Altar of incense, 
 a type, ii. 649. 
 
 *Sons of the spies, iii. 114. 
 
 Sold—Its greatness, and unspeakableness of its loss, i. 105 
 —Can never be repaired if once lost, i. 107—What it is, 
 i. 107; ii. 695 — The Devil’s drudge and slave — Its 
 powers and properties; conscience, the head; affections, 
 the hands ; will, the feet, i. 109—Its senses; sight, hear¬ 
 ing, tasting, i. 110—Its passions; love, hatred, joy, fear, 
 HI — Grief, anger, i. 112 — Its greatness; has two 
 houses, the body, on earth, and one eternal in the heavens, 
 i. 113—A tabernacle—It is called God’s breath, and his 
 image, i. 114—A vessel for grace, i. 115—Its price; the 
 precious blood of Christ; it is immortal, i. 116—It has 
 communion with invisibles; can ascend to heaven and 
 dive to hell, i. 117—It bears pain; an awful poem on 
 Spira, i. 1.18, note—Of its loss; becomes a slave, i. 119 
 —Subject to awful torments, i. 120—A double loss, i. 121 
 —A most fearful loss, i. 123—Everlasting, i. 124—The 
 cause of its loss, i. 126—Cannot purge itself, i. 127— 
 Loves sin, i. 128—By sin sets itself against God, i. 130 
 —More sorely punished than the body, i. 133—When lost 
 its value felt, i. 136—Soul-loser a prodigal waster, i. 140— 
 The loser of his soul the greatest fool, i. 141—Be careful 
 who teaches it, i. 143—What provision hast thou made 
 for it, i. 144—One thing is needful, i. 145—Sad state of 
 the lost, i. 147—Pawned for a beastly lust, i. 683. 
 
 Spencly, Richard, John Burton , and John Child, recommend 
 Bunyan’s Gospel Truths, ii. 181. 
 
 * Spider, an emblem, iii. 185. 
 
 Spider ami Fly, emblems of Satan and the sinner, i. 435. 
 
 Spira, Francis, his dreadful story, i. 26, 118, and note—His 
 awful state of despair, iii. 383, 582, and note. 
 
THE INDEX. 
 
 7S9 
 
 Spirits, otherwise invisible, sometimes seen by the dying, 
 i. 101; iii. 6^0—-Ot all men will be broken by mercy to 
 salvation, or by justice to damnation, i. 136. 
 
 Spiritual and invisible things , how to be discerned, iii. 400. 
 Spiritual death , what it is, ii. 677. 
 
 Spiritual drunkenness and adultery, i. 373. 
 
 Spiritual lightning without thunder dangerous, i. G55. 
 Spiritual wonders in the day of God’s wrath, ii. 694. 
 Spirituality of divine worship, i. 646. See Prayer. 
 
 Spite-God, Mrs., iii. 265. 
 
 Spittle, peculiarity in the miracle of curin 0- by, i. 401 
 
 * Spring at the hill of Difficulty, iii. 104—* Foiled by the 
 
 enemy, iii. 193, and note. 
 
 Stalking-horse, i. 733. 
 
 * Standfast found on his knees, iii. 238—*IIis happy death, 
 
 hi. 243. 
 
 Stars falling from heaven, professors falling from the faith, 
 
 n. 163. 
 
 State interfering with religion, the great law of, ii. 322_- 
 
 Caused the flood, and again began under Nimrod—To 
 ^ destroy all opposers, ii. 497. 
 
 Steps to heaven, iii. 622. 
 
 Stone, Jew’s stumbling, i. 401—Stones in the breast-plate, and 
 in the toundation of the holy city, are the same, iii. 432. 
 Strait Gate, a most solemn treatise, i. 364. 
 
 Strive to enter, applied to professors only, i. 365 — How 
 to strive lawfully, i. 369; iii. 381—Motives to avoid 
 hell and enter heaven, i. 369. 
 
 * Strong may mislead the weak, iii. 139. 
 
 Study the greatness of God’s love to man—A depth profound 
 and unsearchable—Delightful here and through eternity, 
 ii. 36. " J 
 
 Suffering flows from hope, i. 583—It is according to God’s 
 will—A man may be bound for God’s truth, and be none 
 of God's, martyrs, ii. 704—Comes of God, and not by 
 chance, ii. 721—For religion, tokens of God’s love—Only 
 bounded by the grave, ii. 737—Must not produce turbu¬ 
 lence, ii. 740. 
 
 Suicide debated and condemned, iii. 141—Unless in madness, 
 a damning sin, 660. 
 
 Sun, a type of the gospel—None needed in heaven, iii. 441. 
 -Superstition, Mr., a witness against Faithful, iii. 130. 
 
 *' Supper, what Christian had to his supper, iii. 109—*Sunnpr 
 _ at Gaius’—Strange dishes, iii. 219. 1 
 
 Supralapsarianism, i. 644. 
 
 Swan Inn, Bedford, i. 60. 
 
 Swearers— God’s curse upon swearing, i. 386—Judgment 
 upon, iii. 654. 
 
 Swearing, profane, what it is, i. 441—And cursing, different 
 ®. 1 . nS ll ii ' 601 —idols, as by our lady, by the mass, &c., 
 in. 602—Very commonly practised, iii. 603—God’s judg¬ 
 ment on N. P. at Dumbleton, and Dorothy Matelv at 
 Derby, iii. 604. 
 
 Sweetheart, a general term of endearment, iii. 653. 
 
 Swine better observe the law of creation than fallen man, 
 i. 478. 
 
 Syllogism, how to pick the bones of a, ii. 662. 
 
 Syphilis, a disease known in Job’s days, iii. 612. 
 
 f P 
 
 I. ♦ 
 
 Take-heed-what-you-hear, the trumpeter, summons Mansoul 
 iii. 272. 
 
 * Talkative drawn to the life, i. 333—*Of Prating Row, a 
 confident fool, iii. 121. 
 
 Teaching for hire, a trick upon God, i. 93. 
 
 *TelUrue converts Valiant-for the-truth by means of the 
 Pilgrim's Progress, iii. 233. 
 
 Temper, a compliant, sometimes dangerous, ii. 324. 
 
 Temple, none in the New Jerusalem, iii. 439. 
 
 Temptations, their cause and use, i. 37—Why they assail 
 God’s people, i. 287—Specially suited to the age, circum¬ 
 stances, and acquirements of the Christian, i. 676_When 
 
 in, keep close to the Word, ii. 429. 
 
 Tender rebukes better than churlish severity, iii. 617. 
 
 Thanksgiving, a prevailing prayer, i. 624. 
 
 Thieving, handsomely—Stealing fruit the first downward 
 step, iii. 598 * iltering leads to the gallows, iii. 599. 
 
 Thodes, or whirlwinds, meaning, and derivation of the word, 
 n. 73 d. 
 
 Throne of God, import of the word, iii. 458. See God. 
 
 1 krone of grace, what it is, i. 645—Where erected, i. 646- 
 How distinguished, i. 648—Its effects—Who are invited 
 t0 a ^’ u 656— How to approach, i. 657—Washed from sin, 
 
 i. b58—Only by the new and living way, i. 659—To come 
 to it is man’s privilege, duty, and glory—Unknown but to 
 the godly, i. 661—Known only by the Word, i. 662- 
 Unwillingness to come except drawn by the Father- 
 Motives to come—Glorious, i. 663—Turns all things 
 
 merc ies, iii. 550—The spotless humanity of Christ, 
 m. 551. 
 
 Time, the first thing that God made, ii. 417. 
 
 Time of affliction less dangerous than prosperity, ii. 494. 
 
 Times; England eminent for sin in Bunyan’s days, i. 68 ; iii. 
 71_ Disturbed state of society under Charles II.; devil 
 broke loose in hideous manners, i. 81—Immoral state of 
 Bunyan’s times, i. 99, 105—Decays in godliness, and foul 
 miscarriages of professors, i. 152—Curious notice of the 
 naaon’s fears and hopes at the Popish plot, i. 585—The 
 brethren suffered murder and outrage, i. 723—Swarms of 
 opinions darken the light, ii. 27—In which Bunyan lived, 
 as described in his writings, ii. 38—Prisoners in Bunyan's 
 time put in iron before a trial, ii. 107 ; iii. 366—The 
 c ergy, the scribes, and the Pharises of this generation, 
 preach up low, carnal, beggarly, empty notions, ii. 134— 
 
 1 he Quakers commenced their peculiar dress, &c., in 
 lbo6; ii. 153—A teetotal movement in the time of the 
 Commonwealth, ii. 201—Ignorance of many state clergy¬ 
 men, Sir John’s, ii. 313—Scandalous lives of the clergy, 
 
 ii. 323 Graceless clergy like the locusts of Egypt, ii. 475 
 The church of God in the furnace, ii. 482—The super¬ 
 fluity of naughtiness is at this day become no sin, ii. 509— 
 Charles II. a pattern of iniquity, 517—Persecution groaned 
 under in Bunyan’s time, ii. 614—Carnal gospellers, like 
 maggots, crawl up and down the nation, iii. 429—Extra¬ 
 vagancies and fooleries of dress, iii. 565, 644—England 
 tearfully demoralized, iii. 590, 593,594—Labourers’ wages 
 eightpence or tenpence per day, iii. 637, and note. 
 
 Times of need; ten special, i. 676. 
 
 * Timorous, il/rs.,iii. 175— f Christiana wishes her a si"ht of 
 
 the cross, iii. 192. ° 
 
 * Timorous and Mistrust, iii. 105—»Burned through the 
 tongue, iii. 195. 
 
 Tinkling cymbal, i. 44. 
 
 Tod, Old, a remarkable story, iii. 599. ■ 
 
 Toleration anticipated by Bunyan, ii. 457. 
 
 Tom of Bedlam, i. 9, and note. 
 
 * Tombs, blind men stumbling among, iii. 144. 
 
 * Too-bold and Heedless in a fatal sleep, iii. 237. 
 
 Trading, instructions for righteous, iii. 640. 
 
 tradition, Human-wisdom, and Man’s-invention join the 
 church, but soon turn renegades, and enlist under Captain 
 Any-thing, iii. 277. 
 
 Transfiguration —Moses and Elias appeared as dipped in 
 glory, i. 760. 
 
 Traveller's pleasure in meeting friends in a strange land 
 
 ii. 600. 
 
 Treasure in heaven for the saints, infinite, ii. 14. 
 
 Tree of life is Jesus Christ—The tree of knowledge the law 
 of works, iii. 453, 454—The leaves of the tree of life are 
 the promises, iii. 456. 
 
 Trencher chaplains —Their eloquent terms in prayer tickle 
 the ears, i. 637. 
 
 Ti tal of the Diabolonians, and names of the jury and witnesses 
 
 iii. 310. 
 
 Tricks of a wicked tradesman, iii. 616. 
 
 Trifles preferred to salvation, iii. 713. 
 
 Trinity. See God. 
 
 Trouble ot spirit under convictions not to be put off the 
 wrong way, ii. 137. 
 
 Triumph of Emmanuel—Entrance into Mansoul—Houses 
 and streets adorned, iii. 359. 
 
 Truth discovered by the persecutions endured by God’s people, 
 
 *• TlS —And immoral conduct cannot live in the same heart’ 
 iii. 722. ’ 
 
790 
 
 TIIE INDEX. 
 
 * Turn-away , Mrs., iii. 14G—’An apostate carried away by 
 seven devils, iii. 147. 
 
 Twelve ; singular applications of the word, iii. 455. 
 
 ^ Two-tongues, the Rev. Mr ., the parson of By-ends’ parish, 
 iii. 132. 
 
 Tyndale's, William , translation of the Bible known to Ban¬ 
 yan, i. 695. 
 
 Types ; clean and unclean beasts, i. 14—Cities of refuge, types 
 of Christ, i. 250, 265—Aaron, Moses, Samson, Joshua, 
 David, manna, the lamb, the red cow, types of Christ, i. 396 
 —Not so glorious as the antitype, i. 644—Joseph drying 
 his tears, i. 652—Chestnut rods, and red strakes, i. 670— 
 Jordan, of death; Ebal and Gerizim, of heaven and hell, 
 
 i. 742—Jacob’s ladder, of Christ, ii. 10—Adam and Eve, 
 clothed of God, of imputed righteousness, ii. 250—And 
 antitype of a covenant, ii. 317—Creation, a type of conver¬ 
 sion, ii. 418—The moon, of the church, ii. 421—All creation 
 typical, ii. 422—Adam, of Christ, ii. 423—Tree of know¬ 
 ledge, of the law, and of the covenant of works, ii. 425, 
 426—Ministers typified by the river of God, ii. 426—Eve, 
 of the church, ii. 427—Fig-leaf aprons typical, ii. 432— 
 —Life, of the millennium, ii. 456—Noah’s ark, of Christ, 
 
 ii. 464, 465—The rainbow, of Christ, ii. 490—King of 
 Babylon, of Antichrist, iii. 428—Precious stones, of pre¬ 
 cious souls, and of precious doctrines, iii. 433,435—Jewish 
 knowledge all from types, iii. 462—Ark of the covenant, a 
 type of Christ, in nineteen particulars, iii. 501—House in 
 the forest of Lebanon, of the church’s afflictions, iii. 515. 
 
 u. 
 
 Unbelief, its source, i. 22—A fine-spun thread, i. 230—A 
 nimble-jack, escapes being put to death, i. 370—The first 
 sin that entered the world, ii. 431. 
 
 * Uncertain, the town of Feeble-mind, iii. 222. 
 
 Uncleanness, the wanton eye and wanton talk, ii. 569. 
 
 Understanding, the Lord Mayor of Mansoul, deposed, and 
 his house darkened, iii. 260. 
 
 Uniformity and peace desirable, iii. 525. 
 
 Union of good works and grace to purchase peace rejected, 
 
 iii. 279* 
 
 Unworthiness no plea to prevent coming to Christ, i. 768. 
 
 V. 
 
 * Vain-confidence, Mr., perishes, iii. 139. 
 
 * Vain-glory, the bane of thousands, i. 333—*The town of 
 Formalist, iii. 103. 
 
 * Vain-hope, the ferryman, iii. 166. 
 
 * Valiant-for-truth, a pilgrim—His sword that cut through 
 flesh, bones, soul , and spirit, iii. 233—* His happy death, 
 iii. 243. 
 
 Valorous acts done by suffering, iii. 516. 
 
 * Vanity Fair, founded when sin entered the world, iii. 127_ 
 
 * Trial and martyrdom of Faithful, iii, 130—* The means of 
 Hopeful’s conversion, iii. 132—*Mr. Fearing’s courageous 
 behaviour at the fair, iii. 214—*Much reformed when 
 Christiana arrived, iii. 224. 
 
 Variety of birds, an emblem of variety of Christians, iii. 750. 
 
 Venner and the fifth-monarchy men, i. 57. 
 
 Vestiges of creation, its best truths published by Bunvan ii 
 422, and note. ’ 
 
 Vices under virtuous names —Evil questioning difficult to 
 distinguish from honest inquiry, iii. 330, 332, 366, and 
 note. 
 
 Wile-affection and Carnal-lust m arry, and produce Impudent, 
 Blackmouth, Hate-reproof, three black boys, and Scorn- 
 truth, Slight-God, and Revenge, their sisters, iii. 263. 
 
 1 ine of Sodom, clusters of Gomcrrah—Grapes of gall, i. 
 316 . 
 
 * Viol, a musical instrument, played by Christiana, iii. 229. 
 
 *•' Virginals, a musical instrument, played by Prudence, iii. 
 204:* 
 
 Virgins, the foolish, who they are, iii. 450. 
 
 Voice from heaven, i. 322. 
 
 w. 
 
 Wages, kept back by fraud—A curse, i. 476. 
 Walking with God, its vast advantages, i. 740. 
 
 Wall of new Jerusalem, great and high—What it teaches, 
 iii. 411. 
 
 * Wanton, Mrs., assaults Faithful, iii. 118—* Her ball, iii. 
 177—^Christiana wishes her a sight of the cross, iii. 192. 
 
 War, the holy, lasts for life, i. 619—Proper to turn an in¬ 
 truder out, iii. 521. 
 
 Watch, an emblem of a Christian, i. 480. 
 
 * Watchful, the porter, at Beautiful, iii. 106, 196—*The 
 shepherd, iii. 144. 
 
 Watchfulness, its necessity, i. 547—Shown from curious 
 similes, i. 619—Nettles and thorns arise and scratch the 
 careless, ii. 544. 
 
 Water of life: Christ the conduit-pipe, i. 651—Like Bath 
 waters, only coveted by the diseased—A river, i. 652— 
 Must not be mixed, i. 653—Whence it comes, and whither 
 it goes, iii. 452—Bunyan’s account of his Master’s, iii. 
 ^39 The Spirit and grace of God—Not to be taken from 
 mountebanks, but from God, iii. 540—Runs in valleys ; 
 humble ones, iii. 541—Life found only in this water— 
 Its quantity, a river deep and wide, iii. 542—Its origin, 
 the ocean of grace—Always fresh—The Christian’s ele¬ 
 ment, iii. 544— A river to supply a great family—Whence 
 it flows, iii. 545—First ran slowly, iii. 546—Now from 
 the throne gloriously, 548—Turns all into grace, iii. 550 
 —Its nature and quality, iii. 551—Its effects, iii. 552- 
 Quantity is as a mighty mountain compared to an atom or 
 ant’s egg, iii. 553—No possibility of surfeiting, iii. 554— 
 Its purity, iii. 555—Sometimes muddy by man’s inven¬ 
 tions, iii. 556—The bottom of this river, iii. 557—Use it 
 abundantly—Live near it, iii. 558—Other waters are from 
 the Dead sea, iii. 559. 
 
 Way: a dead way and a living way, i. 651. 
 
 Wealth, the bone of, to be thrown to the dogs—No marrow 
 in it, i. 735. 
 
 Wedding-garment essential to the heavenly feast, i. 375. 
 Weeds and barrenness, the effects of sin, ii. 439. 
 
 * Wheel broken at the cistern—Standfast’s warning, iii. 243. 
 Wicked ]oy at the godly man’s failings, iii. 625. 
 
 Wicked men speak by their feet, i. 706—-Their awful fears, 
 i. 745—Their examination and judgment, ii. 105, 108. 
 
 * Wildhead, Inconsiderate, and Pragmatic, iii. 233. 
 
 Will, the, a lord and governor in Mansoul, iii. 262. 
 
 Wine, new, in old bottles; spiritual meaning, i. 518. 
 
 Wisdom not good until bought, i. 704. 
 
 Wise, the, of this world despise the saints, i. 746. 
 
 Women, simple and weak, to be silent in the church, ii. 429 
 Easier tempted than men—Their sorrows multiplied— 
 Subject to man, ii. 438—^Commended, iii. 219. 
 
 Wood, hay, stubble—Man’s inventions, carnal ordinances, to 
 be burnt, ii. 98. 
 
 JWorks, good, cannot justify, i. 325. 
 
 World to come better than this world in seven respects, 
 i. 229—Cast behind, and not upon the Christian’s back,* 
 i. 276—Dear if bought with the soul, iii. 703. 
 
 Worldling like a boy after a butterfly, iii. 755. 
 
 Worldly employment, rightly fulfilled, a means of grace, 
 
 i. 371. 
 
 T Worldly glory, a love of, injurious, i. 735. 
 
 * Worldly Wiseman, a dangerous fellow, iii. 93— # Reasons 
 why, iii. 95. 
 
 World's enmity: it will seek to keep thee out of heaven with 
 mocks, flouts, taunts, threatenings, jails, gibbets, halters, 
 burnings, and a thousand deaths, therefore strive, i. 370. 
 Worship, must be in Christ to be accepted, i. 617—All true 
 rules must be ‘ Thus saith the Lord ’—Antichrist takes 
 the place of God, where he orders how we are to worship, 
 j]* 75—We worship by faith, others by human inventions, 
 
 ii. 444. See .Prayer. 
 
 Y. 
 
 * Young converts, zealous, iii. 103, 108, 178. 
 
 * Youth, if cautioned in vain, iii. 182—It makes work for 
 bitter repentance, iii. 202. 
 
 z. 
 
 Zeal for the law betrays spiritual ignorance, i. 315.