Apocalyptic Gnosis

 This is a segment of the book by the same name.

1

The Pilgrim's Progress

(or digress, as the case may be)

from this World to that which is to Come

Delivered

Under the Similitude of a Dream

detailing the many, many mistakes made by Christians until they

become not Christians (Infidels) but Faithful (Fidel) to God

Wherein is discovered

the manner of his setting out, his dangerous journey

and safe arrival at the Desired Country

by John Bunyan

edited by JAH, 2002

“I have used similitudes.” - Hosea 12:10

“This because those who reject "I AM" follow vanities, while

those who believe follow the Truth from their Lord: thus does

"I AM" set forth for men their lessons by similitudes.” - Sura 47:3

“Had We sent down this Koran to a mountain, verily, thou wouldst have

seen it humble itself and cleave asunder for fear of "I AM". Such are the

similitudes which We propound to men, that they may reflect.” - Sura 59:21

2

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 holy people, in this our gospel-day,

Fell suddenly into an allegory

About their journey, and The Way to glory,

In more than twenty things which I set down:

This done, I twenty more had in my crown;

And they again began to multiply,

Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.

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

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

Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out

The book that I already am about.

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

To show to all the world my pen and ink

In such a mode; I only thought to make

I knew not what: nor did I undertake

Thereby to please my neighbour: no, not I;

I did it my own self to gratify.

Neither did I but vacant seasons spend

In this my scribble; nor did I intend

But to divert myself in doing this

From worser thoughts which make me do amiss.

Thus, I set my pen to paper with delight,

And quickly had my thoughts in black and white.

For, having now my method by the end,

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

It down: until at last it came to be,

For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.

Well, when I had 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,

3

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 advisèd for the best,

Thus I thought fit to put it to the test.

I further thought, if now I did deny

Those that would have it, thus to gratify,

I did not know but hinder them I might

Of that which would to them be great delight.

For those which were not for its coming forth,

I said to them, Offend you I am loath,

Yet, since your brethren pleasèd 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 moderate,

I did too with them thus expostulate:-

May I not write in such a style as this?

In such a method, too, and yet not miss

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

Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none.

Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops

Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops,

Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,

But treasures up the fruit they yield together;

Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit

None can distinguish this from that: they suit

Her well when hungry; but, if she be full,

She spews out both, and makes their blessings null.

You see the ways the fisherman doth take

To catch the fish; what engines doth he make!

Behold how he engageth all his wits;

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

Yet fish there be, that neither hook, nor line,

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

They must be groped for, and be tickled too,

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

How does the fowler seek to catch his game?

By diverse means! all which one cannot name:

His gun, his nets, his lime-twigs, light, and bell;

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

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

Will make him master of what fowls he please.

Yea, he must pipe and whistle to catch this;

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

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

And may be found too in an oyster-shell;

4

If things that promise nothing do contain

What better is than gold; who will disdain,

That have an inkling of it, there to look,

That they may find it? Now my little book

(Though void of all these paintings that may make

It with this or the other man to take)

Is not without those things that do excel

What do in brave but empty notions dwell.

“Well, yet I am not fully satisfied,

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

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

“But it is feignèd.” What of that? I trow

Some men, by feignèd words, as dark as mine,

Make truth to spangle and its rays to shine.

“But they want solidness.” Speak, man, thy mind.

“They drown the weak; metaphors make us blind.”

Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen

Of him that writeth things divine to men;

But must I needs want solidness, because

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

His gospel laws, in olden time held forth

By types, shadows, and metaphors? Yet 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.

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

5

From that same Book that lustre, and those rays

Of Light, that turn our darkest nights to days.

Come, let my carper to his life now look,

And find there darker lines than in my book

He findeth any; yea, and let him know,

That in his best things there are worse lines too.

May we but stand before impartial men,

To his poor one I dare adventure ten,

That they will take my meaning in these lines

Far better than his lies in silver shrines.

Come, Truth, although in swaddling-clouts, I find,

Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind;

Pleases the understanding, makes the will

Submit; the memory too it doth fill

With what doth our imaginations please;

Likewise it tends our troubles to appease.

Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use,

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. O man of God,

Art thou offended? Dost thou wish I had

Put forth my matter in another dress?

Or, that I had in things been more express?

To those that are my betters, as is fit,

Three things let me propound; then I submit:

1. I find not that I am denied the use

Of this my method, so I no abuse

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

In handling figure or similitude

In application; but, all that I may,

Seek the advance of truth, this or that way.

Denied, did I say? Nay, I have leave

(Example too, and that from them that have

God better pleasèd, by their words or ways,

Than any man that breatheth nowadays)

Thus to express my mind, thus to declare

Things unto thee that excellentest are.

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

Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight

For writing so: indeed, if they abuse

Truth, cursèd 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,

6

Better than He that taught us first to plough,

To guide our mind and pens for His design?

And He makes base things usher in divine.

3. I find that Holy Writ in many places

Hath semblance with this method, where the cases

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 sets out for life amain,

As if the lasting crown they would obtain;

Here also you may see the reason why

They lose their labour, and like fools do die.

This book will make a traveller of thee,

If by its counsel thou wilt rulèd be;

It will direct thee to the Holy Land,

If thou wilt its directions understand:

Yea, it will make the slothful active be;

The blind also delightful things to see.

Art thou for something rare and profitable?

Wouldst thou see a truth within a fable?

Art thou forgetful? Wouldst 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.

Wouldst thou divert thyself from melancholy?

Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?

Wouldst thou read riddles, and their explanation?

Or else be drownèd in thy contemplation?

Dost thou love picking meat? Or, wouldst thou see

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

Wouldst thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep?

Or, wouldst thou in a moment laugh and weep?

7

Or, wouldst thou lose thyself and catch no harm,

And find thyself again without a charm?

Wouldst read thyself, and read thou knowest not what,

And yet know whether thou art blest or not,

By reading the same lines? Oh, then, come hither,

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

JOHN BUNYAN.

8

The Pilgrim's Progress,

IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM.

detailing the many, many mistakes made by Christians until they become not Christians

(Infidels) but Faithful (Fidel) to God.

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

Den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep: and, as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I

dreamed, and behold I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his

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

Luke 14:33; Ps. 38:4; Hab. 2:2; Acts 16:30, 31). I looked, and saw him open the book,

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

contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, “What shall I do?” (Acts 2:37).

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

his wife and children should not perceive his distress; but he could not be silent long,

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

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

of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in myself undone by reason of a burden that lieth

hard upon me; moreover, I am for certain informed that this our city will be burned with

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

sweet babes, shall miserably come to ruin, except (the which yet I see not) some way of

escape can be found, whereby we may be delivered. At this his relations were sore

amazed; not for that they believed that what he had said to them was true, but because

they thought that some frenzy distemper had got into his head; therefore, it drawing

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

him to bed. But the night was as troublesome to him as the day; wherefore, instead of

sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. So, when the morning was come, they would know

how he did. He told them, Worse and worse. He also set to talking to them again; but they

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

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

sometimes they would quite neglect him (Matt. 10:34-38; Thom. 3:2). Wherefore he

began to retire himself to his chamber, to pray for and pity them (Sura 9:113, 114), and

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

reading, and sometimes praying: and thus for some days he spent his time.

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

wont) reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind; and, as he read, he burst out,

as he had done before, crying, “What shall I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:30, 31).

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

because (as I perceived) he could not tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a man

named Evangelist coming to him, who asked, Wherefore dost thou cry?

He answered, Sir, I perceive by the book in my hand, that I am condemned to die, and

after that to come to judgment (Heb. 9:27); and I find that I am not willing to do the first

(Job 16:21, 22), nor able to do the second (Ezek. 22:14).

9

Christian no sooner leaves the World but meets

Evangelist, who lovingly him greets

With tidings of another: and doth show

Him how to mount to that from this below.

Then, said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this life is attended with so many

evils? The man answered, Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back will sink

me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Tophet (Isa. 30:33). And, sir, if I be not fit to

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

the thoughts of these things make me cry.

Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why standest thou still? He answered,

Because I know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll, and there was

written within, “Flee from the wrath to come” (Matt. 3:7).

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

must I fly? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field, Do you

see yonder wicket-gate? (Matt. 7:13, 14). The man said, No. Then said the other, Do you

see yonder shining light? (Ps. 119:105; 2Pet. 1:19). He said, I think I do. Then said

Evangelist, Keep that light in your eye (John 1:1-13; Matt. 6:22-24; Luke 11:34-36;

Thom. 5:3; 8:8; 13:8), and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see the gate; at which,

when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do. So I saw in my dream that the

man began to run. Now, he had not run far from his own door, but his wife and children

(perceiving it) began to cry after him to return; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and

ran on, crying, Life! life! eternal life! (Luke 14:26; Sura 60:1-3). So he looked not

behind him, but fled towards the middle of the plain (Gen. 19:17).

The neighbours also came out to see him run (Jer. 20:10); and, as he ran, some mocked,

others threatened, and some cried after him to return; and among those that did so, there

were two that were resolved to fetch him back by force. The name of the one was

Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable. Now, by this time the man was got a good

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

in a little time they overtook him. Then said the man, 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 content, good neighbours, and go along with me.

Obst. What! said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts behind us!

Chr. Yes, said Christian (for that was his name), because that all which you shall

forsake is not worthy to be compared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy

(2Cor. 4:18); and, if you will go along with me, and behold it, you shall fare as I myself;

for there, where I go, is enough and to spare (Luke 15:17). Come, and prove my words.

Obst. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them?

Chr. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away (1Pet. 1:4);

and it is laid up in heaven, and safe there (Heb. 11:16), to be bestowed, at the time

appointed, on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in my book.

Obst. Tush! said Obstinate, away with your book: will you go back with us, or no?

Chr. No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the plough (Luke 9:62).

Obst. Come, then, neighbour Pliable, let us turn again, and go home without him: there

is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that, when they take a fancy by the end,

10

are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason.

Pli. Then said Pliable, Don't revile; if what the good Christian says is true, the things he

looks after are better than ours: my heart inclines to go with my 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.

Chr. Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbour Pliable; there are such things to be had

which I spoke of, and many more glories besides. If you believe not me, read here in this

Book (the Bible); and, for the truth of what is expressed therein, behold all is confirmed

by the blood of him that made it (Heb. 9:17-21; 13:20).

Pli. Well, neighbour Obstinate, saith Pliable, I begin to come to a point: I intend to go

along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him. But, my good companion, do

you know the way to this desired place?

Chr. I am directed by a man whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to a little gate that

is before us, where we shall receive instructions about The Way.

Pli. Come, then, good neighbour, let us be going. Then they went both together.

Obst. And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate; I will be no companion of such

misled, fantastical fellows.

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

went talking over the plain; and thus they began their discourse.

Chr. Come, 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 are none but us two here, tell me now

further what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going.

Chr. I can better conceive of them with my mind than speak of them with my tongue;

but yet, since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in my Book.

Pli. And do you think that the words of your Book are certainly true?

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

Pli. Well said; what things are they?

Chr. There is an endless Kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us,

that we may inhabit that Kingdom for ever (Isa. 45:17; John 10:27-29).

Pli. Well said; and what else?

Chr. There are crowns of glory to be given us; and garments that will make us shine

like the sun in the firmament of heaven (Dan. 12:3; Matt. 13:43; 2Tim. 4:8; Rev. 3:4; 22:5

/ King of kings’ Bible, Rev. 30:5).

Pli. This is very pleasant; and what else?

Chr. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow: for He that is owner of the place will

wipe all tears from our eyes (Isa. 25:6-8; Rev. 7:17; 21:4).

Pli. And what company shall we have there?

Chr. There we shall be with seraphims and cherubims, creatures that will dazzle your

eyes to look on them (Isa. 6:2). 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; everyone walking in the sight of God, and standing in His presence with acceptance

for ever (1Thess. 4:16, 17; Rev. 5:11). In a word, there we shall see the elders with their

golden crowns (Rev. 4:4), there we shall see the holy virgins with their golden harps

(Rev. 14:1-5), there we shall see men that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames,

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

11

all well and clothed with immortality as with a garment (John 12:25; 2Cor. 5:2, 3, 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

(Isa. 55:1, 2; John 6:37, 7:37; Rev. 21:6; 22:17 / King of kings’ Bible, Rev. 30:17).

Pli. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things: come on, let us mend

our pace.

Chr. I cannot go so fast as I would by reason of this burden that is on my back.

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

miry slough, that was in the midst of the plain; and they, being heedless, did both fall

suddenly into the bog. The name of the slough was Despond. Here, therefore, they

wallowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with the dirt; and Christian, because of

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

Pli. Then said Pliable, Ah! neighbour Christian, where are you now?

Chr. 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 settingout,

what may we expect betwixt this and our journey's end? May I get out again with my

life, you shall possess the brave country alone for me. And with that he gave a desperate

struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the slough which was next to his

own house: so away he went, and Christian saw him no more.

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

endeavoured* to struggle to that side of the slough that was farthest from his own house,

and next to the wicket-gate; the which he did, but could not get out because of the burden

that was upon his back. But I beheld in my dream that a man came to him, whose name

was Help, and asked him, What he did there?

*try.

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

directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the wrath to come; and as I was going

thither I fell in here.

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

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

Help. Then said he, Give me thy hand: so he gave him his hand, and he drew him out,

and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his way (Ps. 40:2).

Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, wherefore, since over this

place is The Way from the City of Destruction to yonder gate, is it, that this plat is not

mended, that poor travellers might go thither with more security? And he said unto me,

This miry slough is such a place as cannot be mended; it is the descent whither the scum

and filth that attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and therefore it is called

the Slough of Despond; for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there

ariseth in his soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of

them get together, and settle in this place. And this is the reason of the badness of this

ground.

It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should remain so bad (Isa. 35:3, 4). His

labourers also have, by the directions of His Majesty's surveyors, been for above these

sixteen hundred years employed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been

12

mended: yea, and to my knowledge, said he, here have been swallowed up at least twenty

thousand cart-loads, yea, millions of wholesome instructions, that have at all seasons been

brought from all places of the King's dominions; and they that can tell, say, they are the

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

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

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

placed even through the very midst of this slough; but at such time as this place doth

much spew out its filth, as it doth against change of weather, these steps are hardly seen;

or, if they be, men, through the dizziness of their heads (Gen. 6:5), step beside (Matt.

7:14), 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 (1Sam. 12:23).

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

that his neighbours came to visit him; and some of them called him wise man for coming

back, and some called him fool for hazarding himself with Christian: others again did

mock at his cowardliness, saying, Surely, since you began to venture, I would not have

been so base as to have given out for a few difficulties. So Pliable sat sneaking among

them. But at last he got more confidence, and then they all turned their tales, and began to

deride poor Christian behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable.

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

crossing over the field to meet him; and their hap was to meet just as they were crossing

the way of each other. The gentleman's name that met him was Mr. Worldly Wiseman; he

dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, a very great town, and also hard by from whence

Christian came. This man, then, meeting with Christian, and having some inkling of him, -

- for Christian's setting forth from the City of Destruction was much noised abroad, not

only in the town where he dwelt, but also it began to be the town-talk in some other

places, -- Mr. Worldly Wiseman, therefore, having some guess of him, by beholding his

laborious going, by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter into

some talk with Christian.

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

Chr. A burdened manner, indeed, as ever, I think, poor creature had! And whereas you

ask me, Whither away? I tell you, sir, I am going to yonder wicket-gate before me; for

there, as I am informed, I shall be put into a way to be rid of my heavy burden.

World. Hast thou a wife and children?

Chr. Yes; but I am so laden with this burden, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as

formerly; methinks I am as if I had none (1Cor. 7:29).

World. Wilt thou hearken unto me if I give thee counsel?

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

World. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get thyself rid of thy burden;

for thou wilt never be settled in thy mind till then; nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the

blessing which God hath bestowed upon thee till then.

Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden; but get it off

myself, I cannot; nor is there a man in our country that can take it off my shoulders;

therefore am I going this way, as I told you, that I may be rid of my burden.

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

Chr. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honourable person; his name, as

I remember, is Evangelist.

World. Beshrew him for his counsel! there is not a more dangerous and troublesome

13

way in the world than is that unto which he hath directed thee; and that thou shalt find, if

thou wilt be ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I perceive already; for

I see the dirt of the Slough of Despond is upon thee; but that slough is the beginning of

the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way. Hear me, I am older than thou;

thou art like to meet with, in The Way which thou goest, wearisomeness, painfulness,

hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, darkness, and, in a word, death, and

what not! These things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies.

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

Chr. Why, sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than are all these things

which you have mentioned; nay, methinks I care not what I meet with in The Way, if so

be I can also meet with deliverance from my burden.

World. How camest thou by the burden at first?

Chr. By reading this Book in my hand.

World. I thought so; and it is happened unto thee as to other weak men, who, meddling

with things too high for them, do suddenly fall into thy distractions; which distractions do

not only unman men, as thine, I perceive, has done thee, but they run them upon desperate

ventures to obtain they know not what.

Chr. I know what I would obtain: it is ease for my heavy burden.

World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many dangers attend it?

especially since, hadst thou but patience to hear me, I could direct thee to the obtaining of

what thou desirest, without the dangers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into; yea, and

the remedy is at hand. Besides, I will add, that, instead of those dangers, thou shalt meet

with much safety, friendship, and content.

Chr. 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 very good name,

that has skill to help men off with such burdens as thine are from their shoulders: yea, to

my knowledge, he hath done a great deal of good this way; ay, and besides, he hath skill

to cure those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens. To him, as I said,

thou mayest go, and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place, and

if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young man to his son, whose name is

Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentleman himself; there, I say,

thou mayest be eased of thy burden; and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former

habitation, as, indeed, I would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and children

to thee to this village, where there are houses now standing empty, one of which thou

mayest have at reasonable rates; provision is there also cheap and good; and that which

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

neighbours, in credit and good fashion.

Now was Christian somewhat at a stand; but presently he concluded, if this be true,

which this gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice (Wrong!); and

with that he thus further spoke.

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

World. Do you see yonder high hill?

Chr. Yes, very well.

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

So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Legality's house for help; but, behold,

when he was got now hard by the hill, it seemed so high, and also that side of it that was

14

next the wayside did hang so much over, that Christian was afraid to venture farther, lest

the hill should fall on his head; wherefore there he stood still, and wot not what to do.

Also his burden now seemed heavier to him than while he was in His Way. There came

also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned (Ex.

19:16, 18). Here therefore, he sweat and did quake for fear* (Heb. 12:21).

*Did I do the right thing?

When Christians unto carnal men give ear,

Out of their way they go, and pay for’t dear;

For Mister Worldly Wiseman can but show

A holy person the way to bondage and to woe.

And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly Wiseman's counsel. And

with that he saw Evangelist coming to meet him; at the sight also of whom he began to

blush for shame. So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer; and coming up to him, he looked

upon him with a severe and dreadful countenance, and thus began to reason with

Christian.

Evan. What dost thou here, Christian? said he: at which words Christian knew not what

to answer; wherefore at present he stood speechless before him. Then said Evangelist

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?

Chr. Yes, dear sir, said Christian.

Evan. How is it, then, that thou art so quickly turned aside (Gal. 1:6)? for thou art now

out of The Way.

Chr. I met with a gentleman so soon as I had got over the Slough of Despond, who

persuaded me that I might, in the village before me, find a man that could take off my

burden.

Evan. What was he?

Chr. He looked like a gentleman, and talked much to me, and got me at last to yield; so

I came hither: but when I beheld this hill, and how it hangs over The Way, I suddenly

made a stand, lest it should fall on my head.

Evan. What said that gentleman to you?

Chr. Why, he asked me whither I was going? And I told him.

Evan. And what said he then?

Chr. He asked me if I had a family? And I told him. But, said I, I am so laden with the

burden that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure in them as formerly.

Evan. And what said he then?

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

sought. And, said I, I am therefore going to yonder gate, to receive 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; which way, said

he, will direct you to a gentleman's house that hath skill to take off these burdens. So I

believed him, and turned out of that way into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my

burden. But when I came to this place, and beheld things as they are, I stopped for fear (as

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

15

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.

For if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we

escape, if we turn away from Him that speaketh from heaven” (Heb. 12:25). He said,

moreover, “Now the just shall live by faith: but if any man draw back, my soul shall have

no pleasure in him” (Heb. 10:38). He also did thus apply them: Thou art the man that art

running into this misery; thou hast begun to reject the counsel of the Most High, and to

draw back thy foot from The Way of Peace, even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition.

Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, crying, “Woe is me, for I am undone!” At

the sight of which, Evangelist caught him by the right hand, saying, “All manner of sin

and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men” (Matt. 12:31; Mark 3:28); “be not faithless,

but believing” (John 20:27). Then did Christian again a little revive, and stood up

trembling, as at first, before Evangelist.

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

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

also to whom he sent thee. -- The man that met thee is one Worldly Wiseman, and

rightly is he so called; partly, because he savoureth only the doctrine of this world

(Matt. 16:23; 1John 4:5), therefore he always goes to the town of Morality to church:

and partly because he loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him from the cross (Gal.

6:12). And because he is of this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh to pervert my

ways, though right. Now there are three things in this man's counsel that thou must

utterly abhor.

1. His turning thee out of The Way*. 2. His labouring to render the cross odious to thee.

And 3. His setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the administration of death.

First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of The Way*; and thine own consenting

thereto: because this is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the counsel of a

Worldly Wiseman.

*To a quick and easy path.

The Lord says, “Strive to enter in at the strait gate” (Luke 13:24), the gate to which I sent

thee; for, “Strait is the gate, and narrow is The Way, which leadeth unto Life, and few

there be that find it” (Matt. 7:13, 14). From this little wicket-gate, and from The Way

thereto, hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction;

hate, therefore, his turning thee out of The Way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to him.

Secondly, Thou must abhor his labouring to render the cross odious unto thee; for thou

art to prefer it “before the treasures of Egypt*” (Heb. 11:25, 26). Besides, the King of

Glory hath told thee, that he that “will save his life shall lose it” (Matt. 10:39; Mark

8:35; John 12:25); and, “If any man come to me, and hates not his father, and mother,

and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he

cannot be My disciple” (Luke 14:26). I say, therefore, for a man to labour to persuade

thee, that that shall be thy death, without which, the Truth hath said, thou canst not have

eternal life: this doctrine thou must abhor.

*Being enslaved by worldly treasures.

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 bondwoman

which now is, and is in bondage with her children (Gal. 4:21-27); and is, in a

16

mystery, this Mount Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now, if she

with her children, are in bondage, how canst thou expect by them to be made free?

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

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

the works of The Law; for by the deeds of The Law no man living can be rid of his

burden: therefore, Mr. Worldly Wiseman is an alien, and Mr. Legality is a cheat;

and for his son Civility, notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but a hypocrite,

and cannot help thee. Believe me, there is nothing in all this noise that thou hast

heard of these sottish men, but a design to beguile thee of thy salvation, by turning

thee from The Way in which I had set thee. After this Evangelist called aloud to the

heavens for confirmation of what he had said; and with that there came words and fire out

of the mountain under which poor Christian stood, 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 Book of The Law to do them” (Gal. 3:10).

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

cursing the time in which he met with Mr. Worldly Wiseman; still calling himself a

thousand fools for hearkening to his counsel: he also was greatly ashamed to think that

this gentleman's arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have the prevalency with

him as to cause him to forsake The Right Way (1Sam. 12:23; Sura 2:186; 7:155). This

done, he applied himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as follows:-

Chr. Sir, what think you? Is there hope? May I now go back and go up to the wicketgate?

Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from thence ashamed? I am sorry I

have hearkened to this man's counsel. But may my sin be forgiven?

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

two evils: thou hast forsaken The Way that is good, to tread in forbidden paths; yet will

the Man at the gate receive thee, for he has good-will for men; only, said he, take heed

that thou turn not aside again, “lest he be angry, and ye perish from The Way, when his

wrath is kindled just a little” (Ps. 2:12). 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 gate there was written, “Knock, and it shall be

opened unto you” (Matt. 7:7).

He that will enter in must first without

Stand knocking at the gate, nor need he doubt

That is a KNOCKER but to enter in;

For God can love him, and forgive his sin.

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

17

May I now enter here? Will He within

Open to sorry me, though I have been

An undeserving rebel? Then shall I

Not fail to sing His lasting praise on high.

At last there came a grave person to the gate, named 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. I am willing with all my heart, said he; and with that he opened the gate.

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

means that? The other told him. A little distance from this gate there is erected a strong

castle, of which Beelzebub is the captain; from thence, both he and them that are with him

shoot arrows* at those that come up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can

enter in.

*fiery darts (Eph. 6:16).

Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when he was got in, the man of the gate

asked him who directed him thither?

Chr. Evangelist bid me come hither, and knock (as I did): and he said that you, sir,

would tell me what I must do.

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

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

Good. But how is it that you came alone?

Chr. Because none of my neighbours saw their danger as I saw mine.

Good. Did any of them know of your coming?

Chr. Yes; my wife and children saw me at the first, and called after me to turn again;

also, some of my neighbours stood crying and calling after me to return; but I put my

fingers in my ears, and so came on my way.

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

Chr. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but when they saw that they could not prevail,

Obstinate went railing back, but Pliable came with me a little way.

Good. But why did he not come through?

Chr. We, indeed, came both together, until we came at the Slough of Despond, into the

which we also suddenly fell. And then was my neighbour Pliable discouraged, and would

not adventure farther. Wherefore, getting out again on that side next to his own house, he

told me I should possess the brave country alone for him; so he went his way, and I came

mine -- he after Obstinate, and I to this gate.

Good. 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 (2

Cor. 4:17) to obtain it?

Chr. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable, and if I should also say all

the truth of myself, it will appear there is no betterment betwixt him and myself. It is true,

he went back to his own house, but I also turned aside to go in the way of death, being

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

Good. Oh, did he light upon you? What! he would have had you seek for ease at the

18

hands of Mr. Legality! They are both of them a very cheat. But did you take his counsel?

Chr. Yes, as far as I durst. I went to find out Mr. Legality, until I thought that the

mountain that stands by his house would have fallen upon my head; wherefore there was I

forced to stop.

Good. That mountain has been the death of many, and will be the death of many more;

it is well you escaped being by it dashed in pieces.

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

happily met me again, as I was musing in the midst of my dumps; but it was God's mercy

that he came to me again, for else I had never come hither. But now I am come, such a one

as I am, more fit, indeed, for death by that mountain, than thus to stand talking with my

Lord; but oh! what a favour is this to me, that yet I am admitted entrance here!

Good. We make no objections against any, notwithstanding all that they have done

before they came hither. They “in no wise are cast out” (John 6:37); and, therefore, good

Christian, come a little way with me, and I will teach thee about The Way thou must go.

Look before thee; dost thou see this narrow way? That is The Way thou must go; it was

cast up by the patriarchs, prophets, Christ, and His apostles; and it is as straight as a rule

can make it. This is The Way thou must go.

Chr. But, said Christian, there are no turnings or windings by which a stranger may lose

his way?

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

But thus thou mayest distinguish the right from the wrong, the right only being straight

and narrow (Matt. 7:14).

Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him further if he could not help him off

with his burden that was upon his back; for as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor could he

by any means get it off without help.

He told him, As to thy burden, be content to bear it until thou comest to the place of

deliverance; for there it will fall from thy back of itself.

Then Christian began to gird up his loins (Eph. 6:14), and to address himself to his

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

would come at the house of the Interpreter, at whose door he should knock, and he would

show him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of his friend, and he again bid

him God-speed.

Then he went on till he came to the house of the Interpreter, where he knocked over and

over; at last one came to the door and asked who was there?

Chr. Sir, here is a traveller who was bid by an acquaintance of the good man of this

house to call here for my profit; I would therefore speak with the master of the house.

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

asked him what he would have?

Chr. Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from the City of Destruction, and am

going to the Mount Zion; and I was told by the man that stands at the gate, at the head of

this way, that if I called here, you would show me excellent things, such as would be a

help to me on my journey.

Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Come in; I will show thee that which will be profitable

to thee. So he commanded his man to light the candle, and bid Christian follow him: so he

had him into a private room, and bid his man open a door; the which when he had done,

Christian saw the picture of a very grave* person hung up against the wall; and this was

the fashion of it. It had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, The Law of

19

truth was written upon his lips, the world was behind his back. It stood as if it pleaded

with men, and a crown of gold did hang over his head.

*most serious.

Chr. Then said Christian, What means this?

Inter. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand. And whereas thou seest him

with his eyes lift up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, and The Law of truth writ on

his lips, it is to show thee that his work is to know and unfold dark things to sinners; even

as also thou seest him stand as if he pleaded with men; and whereas thou seest the world

as cast behind him, and that a crown hangs over his head, that is to show thee that

slighting and despising the things that are present, for the love that he hath to his

Master's service, he is sure in the world that comes next to have glory for his reward.

Now, said the Interpreter, I have showed thee this picture first, because the man whose

picture this is, is the ONLY man whom the Lord of the place whither thou art going hath

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

wherefore, take good heed to what I have showed thee, and bear well in thy mind what

thou hast seen, lest in thy journey thou meet with some that pretend to (be authorised 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 it in the soul, even as it doth discover and forbid it, for it doth

not give power to subdue (Rom. 5:20; 7:6; 1Cor. 15:56).

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

cleansed with pleasure; this is to show thee, that when the gospel comes in, the sweet and

precious influences thereof to the heart, then, I say, even as thou sawest the damsel lay the

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

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

(John 15:3, 13; Acts 15:9; Gal. 2:20; Eph. 5:26; Rom. 16:25, 26).

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

into a little room, where sat two little children, each one in his chair. The name of the

eldest was Passion, and the name of the other Patience. Passion (human-emotion) seemed

to be much discontented; but Patience (spiritual-feeling) was very quiet. Then Christian

asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion? The Interpreter answered, The

Governor of them would have him stay for his best things till the beginning of the next

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

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

20

down at his feet, the which he took up and rejoiced therein, and withal laughed Patience

to scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he had lavished all away, and had nothing left him

but rags.

Chr. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more fully to me.

Inter. So he said, These two lads are figures: Passion, of the men of this world: and

Patience, of the men of that which is to come*; for as here thou seest, Passion will have

all now this year, that is to say, in this world; so are the men of this world: they must

have all their good things now, they cannot stay till next year, that is, until the next world,

for their portion of good. That proverb, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” is

of more authority with them than are all the Divine testimonies of the good of the world

to come. But as thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently left

him nothing but rags; so will it be with all such men at the end of this world.

*The boy has no patience.

Chr. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom, and that upon

many accounts. First, because he stays for the best things. Second, and also because he

will have the glory of his, when the other has nothing but rags.

Inter. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world will never wear

out; but these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not so much reason to laugh at

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

because he had his best things last, for first must give place to last, because last must have

his time to come; but last gives place to nothing; for there is not another to succeed. He,

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

his portion last, must have it lastingly; therefore it is said of Dives, “In thy lifetime thou

receivedest thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted,

and thou art tormented” (Luke 16:25).

Chr. Then I perceive it is not best to 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 things

which are not seen are eternal” (2Cor. 4:18). But though this be so, yet since things

present and our fleshly appetite are such near neighbours one to another; and again,

because things to come, and carnal sense, 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.

*Quickly and easily (path).

Then I saw in my dream that the Interpreter took Christian by the hand, and led him into

a place where was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing by it, always casting

much water upon it, to quench it; yet did the fire burn higher and hotter.

Then said Christian, What means this?

The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of grace that is wrought in the heart; he

that casts water upon it, to extinguish and put it out, is the devil; but in that thou seest the

fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he

had him about to the back side of the wall, where he saw a Man with a vessel of oil in his

hand, of the which he did also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire.

Then said Christian, What means this?

The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil of His grace*,

maintains the work already begun in the heart: by the means of which, notwithstanding

what the devil can do, the souls of His people prove gracious still (2Cor. 12:9). And in

21

that thou sawest that the Man stood behind the wall to maintain the fire, this is to teach

thee that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of grace is maintained in the

soul.

*Oil of understanding (Ps. 23:5; Matt. 25:1-13; 1John 2:20; Sura 23:20) given by grace,

and in turn giving grace to the receiver.

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

place, where was builded a stately palace; beautiful to behold; at the sight of which

Christian was greatly delighted. He saw also, upon the top thereof, certain persons

walking who were clothed all in gold.

Then said Christian, May we go in thither?

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

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 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 (Eph. 6:17), and rush toward the door upon the armed men, who

laid upon him with deadly force; but the man, not at all discouraged, fell to cutting and

hacking most fiercely. So after he had received and given many wounds to those that

attempted to keep him out, he cut his way through them all (Acts 14:22), and pressed

forward into the palace; at which there was a pleasant voice heard from those that were

within, even of those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying --

Come in, come in;

Eternal glory thou shalt win.

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

said, I think verily I know the meaning of this.

Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay, said the Interpreter, till I have showed

thee a little more, and after that thou shalt go on thy way. So he took him by the hand

again, and led him into a very dark room, where there sat a man in an iron cage.

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

ground, his hands folded together, and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then said

Christian, What means this?

At which the Interpreter bid him talk with the man.

Chr. Then said Christian to the man, What art thou?

Man. 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 (Luke 8:13).

Chr. Well, but what art thou now?

Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it as in this iron cage. I cannot get

out. Oh, now I cannot!

22

Chr. But how camest thou in this condition?

Man. I left off to watch, and be sober; I laid the reins upon the neck of my lusts; I

sinned against the Light of the Word and the goodness of God: I have grieved the Spirit,

and He is gone; I tempted the devil*, and he is come to me; I have provoked God to

anger, and He has left me; I have so hardened my heart that I cannot repent.

*By looking back and having passion (emotion).

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.

Chr. Then said the Christian, Is there no hope, but you must be kept in the iron cage of

despair?

Man. No, none at all.

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

Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh (Heb. 6:4-6); I have despised his person

(Luke 19:14); I have despised His righteousness; I have “counted his blood an unholy

thing”; I have “done despite to the Spirit of grace” (Heb. 10:28, 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 certain judgment and fiery indignation,

which shall devour me as an adversary.

Chr. For what did you bring yourself into this condition?

Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world; in the enjoyment of which I did

then promise myself much delight; but now every one of those things also bite me, and

gnaw me like a burning worm.

Chr. But canst thou not now repent and turn?

Man. God hath denied 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.

O Eternity! Eternity! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in

Eternity!

Inter. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be remembered by

thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.

Chr. Well, said Christian, this is fearful! God help me to watch and be sober, and to

pray that I may shun the cause of this man's misery! Sir, is it not time for me to go on my

way now?

Inter. Tarry till I shall show thee one thing more, and thou shalt go on thy way.

So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a chamber where there was one

rising out of bed; and as he put on his raiment, he shook and trembled. Then said

Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble?

The Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began,

and said, This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and behold the heavens grew

exceeding black; also it thundered and lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me into

an agony. So I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an unusual rate; upon

which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a Man sit upon a cloud, attended

with the thousands of heaven; they were all in flaming fire: also the heavens were in a

burning flame. I heard then a voice saying, “Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment”; and

with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth.

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

themselves under the mountains (John 5:28; Jude 15; 1Thess. 4:16; 2Thess. 1:7, 8; 1Cor.

15:52; Rev. 20:11-14; Ps. 95:1-3; Micah 7:16, 17; Isa. 26:21; Dan. 10:7). Then I saw the

23

Man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near. Yet there was,

by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came before him, a convenient distance

betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar (Dan. 7:9, 10;

Mal. 3:2, 3). I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended on the Man that sat upon the

cloud, “Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast them into the burning

lake” (Mal. 4:1; Matt. 3:12; 13:30). And with that, the bottomless pit opened, just

whereabout I stood; out of the mouth of which there came, in an abundant manner, smoke

and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to the same persons, “Gather my

wheat into the garner” (Luke 3:17). And with that I saw many catched up and carried

away into the clouds, but I was left behind (1Thess. 4:16, 17; Rev. 11:12). I also sought to

hide myself, but I could not, for the Man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon

me: my sins also came into my mind; and my conscience did accuse me on every side

(Rom. 2:14, 15). Upon this I awaked from my sleep.

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

Man. Why, I thought that the Day of Judgment was come, and that I was not ready for

it: but this 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.

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

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

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

prick thee forward in The Way thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his loins,

and to address himself to his journey. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be always

with thee, good Christian, to guide thee in The Way that leads to the city. So Christian

went on his way, saying --

Here have I 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 show’d 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 Salvation (Isa. 26:1). Up this way,

therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load

on his back.

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

Cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that just as

Christian came up with the Cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from

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

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

Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with a merry heart, “He hath given me

rest by his sorrow, and life by his death.” Then he stood still awhile to look and wonder;

for it was very surprising to him, that the sight of the Cross should thus ease him of his

burden. He looked, therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head

24

sent the waters down his cheeks (Zech. 12:10). Now, as he stood looking and weeping,

behold three Shining Ones came to him and saluted him with “Peace be to thee.” So the

first said to him, “Thy sins be forgiven thee” (Mark 2:5); the second stripped him of his

rags, and clothed him “with change of raiment” (Zech. 3:4); the third also set a mark on

his forehead, 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 in at the Celestial Gate (Eph. 1:13). So they went their way.

Who’s this? the Pilgrim. How! ‘tis very true,

Old things are past away, all’s become new.

Strange! he’s another man, upon my word,

They be fine feathers that make a fine bird.

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

Till I came hither: What a place is this!

Must here be the beginning of my bliss?

Must here the burden fall from off my back?

Must here the strings that bound it to me crack?

Blest Cross! blest Sepulchre! blest rather be

The Man that there was put to shame for me!

I saw then in my dream that he went on thus, even until he came at 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, another Sloth, and the third Presumption. Christian then, seeing

them lie in this case, went to them, if peradventure he might awake them, and cried, You

are like them that sleep on the top of a mast, for the Dead Sea is under you -- a gulf that

hath no bottom (Prov. 23:34). Awake, therefore, and come away; be willing also, and I

will help you off with your irons. He also told them, if he that “goeth about like a roaring

lion” comes by, you will certainly become a prey to his teeth (1Pet. 5:8). With that they

looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort: Simple said, “I see no danger.”

Sloth said, “Yet a little more sleep;” and Presumption said, “Every tub must stand

upon its own bottom.” And so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on

his way.

Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem the

kindness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by awakening of them,

counselling of them, and proffering to help them off with their irons. And as he was

troubled thereabout, he espied two men come tumbling over the wall, on the left hand of

The Narrow Way; and they made up apace to him. The name of the one was Formalist,

and the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I said, they drew up unto him, who thus

entered with them into discourse.

Chr. Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither go you?

Form. and Hyp. We were born in the land of Vain-Glory, and are going for praise

to Mount Zion.

Chr. Why came you not in at the gate which standeth at the beginning of The

Way? Know you not that it is written, that he that cometh not in by the door, “but

25

climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber”? (John 10:1).

Form. and Hyp. They said, that to go to the gate for entrance was, by all their

countrymen, counted too far about; and that, therefore, their usual way was to make

a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall as they had done.

Chr. But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the city whither we are

bound, thus to violate His revealed Will?

Form. and Hyp. They told him, That as for that, he needed not to trouble his head

thereabout; for what they did they had custom for; and could produce, if need were,

testimony that would witness it for more than a thousand years.

Chr. But, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial at law?

Form. and Hyp. They told him, That custom, it being of so long a standing as above a

thousand years, would, doubtless, now be admitted as a thing legal by any impartial

judge: and besides, said they, if we get into The Way, what's matter which way we get in?

if we are in, we are in; thou art but in The Way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate;

and we are also in The Way, that came tumbling over the wall; wherein, now, is thy

condition better than ours?

Chr. I work 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 be

found true men at the end of The Way. You come in by yourselves, without His direction;

and shall go out by yourselves, without His mercy.

To this they made him but little answer; only they bid him look to himself. Then I saw

that they went on every man in his way, without much conference one with another; save

that these two men told Christian that as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not but

they should as conscientiously do them as he: therefore, said they, we see not wherein

thou differest from us but by the coat that is on thy back, which was, as we trow, given

thee by some of thy neighbours, to hide the shame of thy nakedness.

Chr. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not in by the door

(Gal. 2:16). And as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the

place whither I go; and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a

token of His kindness to me, for I had nothing but rags before. And besides, thus I

comfort myself as I go: Surely, think I, when I come to the gate of the city, the Lord

thereof will know me for good, since I have His coat on my back -- a coat that He gave

me freely in the day that He stripped me of my rags. I have, moreover, a mark in my

forehead, of which perhaps you have taken no notice, which one of my Lord's most

intimate associates fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will

tell you, moreover, that I had then given me a roll, sealed, to comfort me by reading as I

go on The Way. I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial Gate, in token of my certain

going in after it; all which things, I doubt, you want, and want them because you came not

in at the gate (2Esd. 7:6-9).

To these things they gave him no answer; only they looked upon each other, and

laughed. Then I saw that they went on all, save that Christian kept before, who had no

more talk but with himself, and that sometimes sighingly, and sometimes comfortably;

also he would be often reading in the roll that one of the Shining Ones gave him, by

which he was refreshed.

I beheld, then, that they all went on till they came to the foot of the Hill Difficulty; at the

bottom of which was a spring. There were also in the same place two other ways besides

that which came straight from the gate; one turned to the left hand and the other to the

26

right, at the bottom of the hill (Deut. 5:32, 33); but The Narrow Way lay right up the hill,

and the name of the going up the side of the hill is called Difficulty. Christian now went

to the spring, and drank thereof, to refresh himself (Isa. 49:10), and then began to go up

the hill, saying –

The hill, though high, I covet to ascend;

The difficulty will not me offend;

For I perceive The Way to Life lies here.

Come, pluck up heart, let's neither faint nor fear.

Better, though difficult, The Right Way to go,

Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe.

The other two also came to the foot of the hill; but when they saw that the hill was steep

and high, and that there were two other ways to go; and supposing also that these two

ways might meet again, with that up which Christian went, on the other side of the hill;

therefore they were resolved to go in those ways. Now the name of one of those ways was

Danger, and the name of the other Destruction. So the one took the way which is called

Danger, which led him into a great wood; and the other took directly up the way to

Destruction, which led him into a wide field, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled

and fell, and rose no more.

Shall they who wrong begin yet rightly end?

Shall they at all have safety for their friend?

No, no; in headstrong manner they set out,

And headlong will they fall at last, no doubt.

I looked, then, after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I perceived he fell from

running to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands and his knees, because of

the steepness of the place. Now, about the midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant

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 (1Thess. 5:6, 7), which

detained him in that place until it was almost night; and in his sleep his roll fell out of his

hand. Now, as he was sleeping, there came one to him, and awaked him, saying, “Go to

the ant, thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise” (Prov. 6:6). And with that

Christian 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; the name of the one was Timorous, and of the other Mistrust; to whom Christian

said, Sirs, what's the matter? You run the wrong way. Timorous answered, that they were

going to the City of Zion, and had got up that difficult place; but, said he, the farther we

go, the more danger we meet with; wherefore, we turned, and are going back again.

Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple of lions in The Way, whether sleeping

or waking we know not, and we could not think, if we came within reach, but they would

presently pull us in pieces.

27

Chr. Then said Christian, You make me afraid; but whither shall I fly to be safe? If I go

back to mine own country, that is prepared for fire and brimstone, and I shall certainly

perish there. If I can get to the Celestial City, I am sure to be in safety there. I must

venture. To go back is nothing but death; to go forward is fear of death, and life

everlasting beyond it. I will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the hill,

and Christian went on his way. But, thinking again of what he had heard from the men, he

felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein, and be comforted; but he felt and

found it not. Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do; for he wanted

that which used to relieve him, and that which should have been his pass into the Celestial

City. Here, therefore, he began to be much perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last he

bethought himself that he had slept in the arbour that is on the side of the hill; and falling

down upon his knees, he asked God’s forgiveness for that his foolish act, and then went

back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the

sorrow of Christian's heart! Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he

chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a

little refreshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully looking on

this side and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find the roll, that had

been his comfort so many times in his journey. He went thus, till he came again within

sight of the arbour where he sat and slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by

bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind (1Thess. 5:6, 7; Rev. 2:5).

Thus, therefore, he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, “O wretched man that

I am! that I should sleep in the daytime! that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty! that

I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the

hill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims.

How many steps have I taken in vain! Thus it happened to Israel, for their sin; they were

sent back again by the way of the Red Sea; and I am made to tread those steps with

sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How far

might I have been on my way by this time? I am made to tread those steps thrice over,

which I needed not to have trod but once; yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for the

day is almost spent. Oh that I had not slept!

Now, by this time he was come to the arbour again, where for a while he sat down and

wept; but at last (as Providence would have it), looking sorrowfully down under the settle,

there he espied his roll; the which he, with trembling and haste, catched up, and put it into

his bosom. But who can tell how joyful this man was when he had gotten his roll again!

for this roll was the assurance of his life and acceptance at the desired haven. Therefore he

laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay,

and with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey. But oh! how nimbly now did

he go up the rest of the hill! Yet, before he got up, the sun went down upon Christian; and

this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to his remembrance; and thus he

again began to condole with himself. O thou sinful sleep: how, for thy sake, am I like to

be benighted in my journey! I must walk without the sun; darkness must cover the path of

my feet, and I must hear the noise of the doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep

(1Thess. 5:6, 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 miscarriage, he

28

lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which

was Beautiful; and it stood just by the highway side.

So I saw in my dream that he made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get

lodging there. Now, before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow passage, which

was about a furlong off of the Porter's lodge; and looking very narrowly before him as he

went, he espied two lions in The Way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust

and Timorous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.)

Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go back after them, for he thought

nothing but death was before him. But the porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful,

perceiving that Christian made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, Is thy

strength so small? (Mark 4:40). Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed

there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of those that had none. Keep in the

midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee.

Difficulty is behind, Fear is before,

Though he’s got on the hill, the lions roar;

A Christian man is never long at ease,

When one fright’s gone, another doth him seize.

Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but taking good heed to the

directions of the Porter; he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he clapped

his hands, and went on till he came and stood before the gate where the Porter was. Then

said Christian to the Porter, Sir, what house is this? And may I lodge here to-night? The

Porter answered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, and he built it for the relief

and security of pilgrims. The Porter also asked whence he was, and whither he was going?

Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, and am going to Mount Zion; but because

the sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night.

Port. What is your name?

Chr. My name is now Christian, but my name at the first was Graceless; I came of the

race of Japheth, whom God will persuade to dwell in the tents of Shem (Gen. 9:27).

Port. But how 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.

Port. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who will, if she likes your

talk, bring you into the rest of the family, according to the rules of the house. So

Watchful, the porter, rang a bell, at the sound of which came out at the door of the house a

grave and beautiful damsel, named Discretion, and asked why she was called?

The 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

29

said, It is Christian, and I have so much the more a desire to lodge here to-night, because,

by what I perceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill for the relief and security of

pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water stood in her eyes; and after a little pause, she said, I

will call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the door, and called out

Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him, had him into the

family; and many of them, meeting him at the threshold of the house, said, “Come in, thou

blessed of the Lord; this house was built by the Lord of the hill on purpose to entertain

such pilgrims in.” Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house. So when he

was come in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented together, that

until supper was ready, some of them should have some particular discourse with

Christian, for the best improvement of time; and they appointed Piety, 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 in to

our house this night, let us, if perhaps we may better ourselves thereby, talk with you of

all things that have happened to you in your pilgrimage.

Chr. With a very good will, and I am glad that you are so well disposed.

Piety. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a pilgrim's life?

Chr. I was driven out of my native country by a dreadful sound that was in mine ears: to

wit, that unavoidable destruction did attend me if I abode in that place where I was.

Piety. But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way?

Chr. It was as God would have it; for when I was under the fears of destruction, I did

not know whither to go; but by chance there came a man, even to me, as I was trembling

and weeping, whose name is Evangelist, and he directed me to the wicket-gate, which else

I should never have found, and so set me into The Way that hath led me directly to this

house.

Piety. But did you not come by the house of the Interpreter?

Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which will stick by me as

long as I live; especially three things: to wit, how Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains

His work of grace in the heart; how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of

God's mercy; and also the dream of him that thought in his sleep the Day of Judgment was

come.

Piety. Why, did you hear him tell his dream?

Chr. Yes, and a dreadful one it was. I thought it made my heart ache as he was telling of

it; but yet I am glad I heard it.

Piety. Was that all you saw at the house of the Interpreter?

Chr. No; he took me and had me where he showed me a stately palace, and how the

people were clad in gold that were in it; and how there came a venturous man and cut his

way through the armed men that stood in the door to keep him out, and how he was bid to

come in, and win eternal glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart! I would have

stayed at that good man's house a twelvemonth, but that I knew I had farther to go.

Piety. And what saw you else in The Way?

Chr. Saw! Why, I went but a little farther, and I saw One, as I thought in my mind, hang

bleeding upon the tree; and the very sight of him made my burden fall off my back (for I

groaned under a very heavy burden), but then it fell down from off me. It was a strange

thing to me, for I never saw such a thing before; yea, and while I stood looking up, for

then I could not forbear looking, three Shining Ones came to me. One of them testified

that my sins were forgiven me; another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this

30

broidered coat which you see; and the third set the mark which you see in my forehead,

and gave me this sealed roll. (And with that he plucked it out of his bosom.)

Piety. But you saw more than this, did you not?

Chr. The things that I have told you were the best; yet some other matters I saw, as,

namely: I saw three men, Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep a little out of The

Way, as I came, with irons upon their heels; but do you think I could awake them? I also

saw Formalist and Hypocrisy come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to

Zion; but they were quickly lost, even as I myself did tell them; but they would not

believe. But, above all, I found it hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come by the

lions' mouths; and truly, if it had not been for the good man, the Porter that stands at the

gate, I do not know but that after all I might have gone back again; but 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.

Prud. Do you not think sometimes of the country from whence you came?

Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detestation: “truly, if I had been mindful of that

country from whence I came out, I might have had opportunity to have returned: but now

I desire a better country, that is, an heavenly” (Heb. 11:15, 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; especially my inward and carnal cogitations, with

which all my countrymen, as well as myself, were delighted; but now all those things are

my grief; and might I but choose mine own things, I would choose never to think of those

things more; but when I would be doing of that which is best, that which is worst is with

me (Rom. 7:21).

Prud. Do you not find sometimes as if those things were vanquished, which at other

times are your perplexity?

Chr. Yes, but that is but seldom; but they are to me golden hours in which such things

happen to me.

Prud. Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances, at times, as if they

were vanquished?

Chr. Yes, when I think what I saw at the Cross, that will do it; and when I look upon

my broidered coat, that will do it; also when I look into the roll that I carry in my bosom,

that will do it; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.

Prud. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion?

Chr. Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the Cross; and there I

hope to be rid of all those things that to this day are in me an annoyance to me; there, they

say, there is no death; and there I shall dwell with such company as I like best (Isa. 25:8;

Rev. 21:4). For, to tell you truth, I love him, because I was by him eased of my burden;

and I am wearied 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!” (Isa. 6:1-3; Rev. 4:8).

Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a family? Are you a married man?

Chr. I have a wife and four small children.

Char. And why did you not bring them along with you?

Chr. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh, how willingly would I have done it! but they

were all of them utterly averse to my going on pilgrimage.

Char. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to have shown them

31

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 (Gen. 19:14;

Sura 2:2-10).

Char. And did you pray to God that He would bless your counsel to them?

Chr. Yes, and that with much affection: for you must think that my wife and poor

children were very dear unto me.

Char. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction? for I suppose

that destruction was visible enough to you.

Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also see my fears in my countenance, in

my tears, and also in my trembling under the apprehension of the Judgment that did hang

over our heads; but all was not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me.

Char. But what could they say for themselves why they came not?

Chr. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world, and my children were given to the

foolish delights of youth: so what by one thing, and what by another, they left me to

wander in this manner alone.

Char. But did you not, with your vain life, damp all that you by words used by way of

persuasion to bring them away with you?

Chr. Indeed, I cannot commend my life; for I am conscious to myself of many failings

therein: I know also, that a man by his conversation may soon overthrow what, by

argument or persuasion, he doth labour to fasten upon others for their good (Jas. 3:4-5).

Yet this I can say, I was very wary of giving them occasion, by any unseemly action, to

make them averse to going on pilgrimage. Yea, for this very thing they would tell me I

was too precise, and that I denied myself of things, for their sakes, in which they saw no

evil. Nay, I think I may say, that if what they saw in me did hinder them, it was my great

tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbour.

Char. Indeed Cain hated his brother, “because his own works were evil, and his

brother's righteous” (1John 3:12); and if thy wife and children have been offended with

thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be implacable to good, and “thou hast

delivered thy soul from their blood” (Ezek. 3:19).

Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper was ready. So

when they had made ready, they sat down to meat. Now the table was furnished “with fat

things, and with wine that was well refined”; and all their talk at the table was about the

Lord of the hill; as, namely, about what he had done, and wherefore he did what he did,

and why he had builded that house. And, by what they said, I perceived that he had been a

great warrior, and had fought with and slain “him that had the power of death,” but not

without great danger to himself, which made me love him the more (Heb. 2:14, 15).

For, as they said, and as I believe (said Christian), he did it with the loss of much blood;

but that which put glory of grace into all he did, was, that he did it out of pure love to his

country. And besides, there were some of them of the household that said they had been

and spoke with him since he did die on the Cross; and they have attested that they had it

from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be found

from the East to the West.

They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed, and that was, he had stripped

himself of his glory, that he might do this for the poor; and that they heard him say and

affirm, “that he would not dwell in the mountain of Zion alone.” They said, moreover, that

he had made many pilgrims princes, though by nature they were beggars born, and their

32

original had been the dunghill (1Sam. 2:8; Ps. 113:7).

Thus they discoursed together till late at night; and after they had committed themselves

to their Lord for protection, they betook themselves to rest: the pilgrim they laid in a large

upper chamber whose window opened toward the sun-rising: the name of the chamber

was Peace; where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang –

Where am I now? Is this the love and care

Of Jesus for the men that pilgrims are?

Thus to provide! that I should be forgiven!

And dwell already the next door to heaven!

So in the morning they all got up; and, after some more discourse, they told him that he

should not depart till they had shown him the rarities of that place. And first they had him

into the study, where they showed him records of the greatest antiquity; in which, as I

remember my dream, they showed him 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 service; and how he had placed them in such habitations, that could

neither by length of days, nor decays of nature, be dissolved.

Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants had done: as,

how they had “subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the

mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of

weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the

aliens” (Heb. 11:33, 34).

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 furniture, which their Lord had provided for pilgrims, as sword, shield, helmet,

breast-plate, all-prayer, and shoes that would not wear out. And there was here enough of

this to harness out as many men for the service of their Lord as there be stars in the

heaven for multitude.

They also showed him some of the engines with which some of his servants had done

wonderful things. They showed him Moses' rod; the hammer and nail with which Jael

slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too, with which Gideon put to flight the

armies of Midian. Then they showed him the ox'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 Goliath of

Gath; and the sword, also, with which their Lord will kill the Man of Sin in the day that he

shall rise up to the prey. They showed him, besides, many excellent things, with which

Christian was much delighted. This done, they went to their rest again.

Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forward; but they desired

him to stay till the next day also; and then, said they, we will, if the day be clear, show

33

you the Delectable Mountains, which, they said, would yet further add to his comfort,

because they were nearer the desired haven than the place where at present he was: so he

consented and stayed. When the morning was up, they had him to the top of the house,

and bid him look South; so he did: and behold, at a great distance, he saw a most pleasant

mountainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also,

with springs and fountains, very delectable to behold (Isa. 33:16, 17). Then he asked the

name of the country. They said, It was Immanuel's Land; and it is as common, said they,

as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there from thence, said

they, thou mayest see to the gate of the Celestial City, as the shepherds that live here will

make appear.

Now he bethought himself of setting forward, and they were willing he should. But first,

said they, let us go again into the armoury. So they did; and when they came there, they

harnessed him from head to foot with what was of proof, lest, perhaps, he should meet

with assaults in The Way. He being, therefore, thus accoutred, walketh out with his

friends to the gate, and there he asked the Porter if he saw any pilgrims pass by? Then the

Porter answered, Yes.

Chr. Pray, did you know him?

Port. I asked him his name, and he told me it was Faithful.

Chr. Oh, said Christian, I know him; he is my townsman, my near neighbour; he comes

from the place where I was born. How far do you think he may be before?

Port. He has got by this time below the hill.

Chr. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add to all thy

blessings much increase, for the kindness that thou hast showed to me.

Then he began to go forward; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence would

accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went on together, reiterating their

former discourses, till they came to go down the hill. Then said Christian, As it was

difficult coming up, so (so far as I can see) it is dangerous going down. Yes, said

Prudence, so it is, for it is a hard matter for a man to go down into the Valley of

Humiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by The Way; therefore, said they, 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.

Then I saw in my dream that these good companions, 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.

Whilst Christian is among his Godly friends,

Their golden mouths make him sufficient ‘mends

For all his griefs; and when they let him go,

He’s clad with northern steel from top to toe.

But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to it; for he had

gone but a little way before he espied a foul fiend coming over the field to meet him: his

name is Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether

to go back or to stand his ground. But he considered again that he had no armour for his

back; and therefore thought that to turn the back to him might give him the greater

advantage with ease to pierce him with his darts (Eph. 6:16). Therefore he resolved to

venture and stand his ground; for, thought he, had I no more in mine eye than the saving

34

of my life, it would be the best way to stand.

So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now, the monster was hideous to behold; he was

clothed with scales, like a fish, (and they are his pride); he had wings like a dragon, feet

like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and his mouth was as the mouth of a

lion. When he was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance,

and thus began to question with him.

Apol. Whence come you? and whither are you bound?

Chr. I am come from the City of Destruction, which is the place of all evil, and am

going to the City of Zion.

Apol. By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects, for all that country is mine, and I

am the prince and god of it. How is it, then, that thou hast run away from thy king? Were

it not that I hope thou mayest do me more service, I would strike thee now, at one blow,

to the ground.

Chr. I was born, indeed, in your dominions, but your service was hard, and your wages

such as a man could not live on, “for the wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23); therefore,

when I was come to years, I did as other considerate persons do, look out, if, perhaps, I

might mend myself.

Apol. There is no prince that will thus lightly lose his subjects, neither will I as yet lose

thee; but since thou complainest of thy service and wages, be content to go back: what

our country will afford, I do here promise to give thee.

Chr. But I have let myself to another, even to the King of princes; and how can I, with

fairness, go back with thee?

Apol. Thou hast done in this according to the proverb, “Changed a bad for a worse”; but

it is ordinary for those that have professed themselves his servants, after a while to give

him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too, and all shall be well.

Chr. I have given him my faith, and sworn my allegiance to him; how, then, can I go

back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor?

Apol. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am willing to pass by all, if now thou wilt

yet turn again and go back.

Chr. What I promised thee was in my nonage; 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, O thou destroying Apollyon! to speak truth, I like

his service, his wages, his servants, his government, his company, and country better than

thine; and, therefore, leave off to persuade me further; I am his servant, and I will follow

him.

Apol. Consider, again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like to meet with in

The Way that thou goest. Thou knowest that, for the most part, his servants come to an ill

end, because they are transgressors against me and my ways. How many of them have

been put to shameful deaths; and, besides, thou countest his service better than mine,

whereas, he never came yet from the place where he is to deliver any that served him out

of their hands; but as for me, how many times, as all the world very well knows, have I

delivered, either by power or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and

his, though taken by them; and so I will deliver thee.

Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on purpose to try their love, whether

they will cleave to him to 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

35

the glory of the angels.

Apol. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him; and how dost thou think

to receive wages of him?

Chr. Wherein, O Apollyon! have I been unfaithful to him?

Apol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost choked in the Gulf of

Despond; thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burden, whereas thou 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.

*un-deserved glory.

Chr. All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out; but the Prince whom I

serve and honour is merciful, and ready to forgive; but, besides, these infirmities

possessed me in thy country, for there I sucked them in; and I have groaned under them,

been sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my Prince.

Apol. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, saying, I am an enemy to this

Prince; I hate his person, his laws, and people; I am come out on purpose to withstand

thee.

Chr. Apollyon, beware what you do; for I am in the King's highway, The Way of

holiness; therefore take heed to yourself.

Apol. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of The Way, and said, I am

void of fear in this matter: prepare thyself to die; for I swear by my infernal den, that thou

shalt go no further; here will I spill thy soul.

And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast; but Christian had a shield in his

hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that (Eph. 6:16).

Then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to bestir him: and Apollyon as fast

made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail; by the which, notwithstanding all that

Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his head, his hand, and foot.

This made Christian give a little back; Apollyon, therefore followed his work amain, and

Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat

lasted for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent; for you must know

that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker.

Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to Christian, and,

wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that Christian's sword flew out of

his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now. And with that he had almost pressed

him to death, so that Christian began to despair of life; but as God would have it, while

Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man,

Christian nimbly reached out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, “Rejoice not

against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise” (Micah 7:8); and with that gave him

a deadly thrust, which made him give back, as one that had received his mortal wound.

Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, “Nay, in all these things we are more

than conquerors through him that loved us” (Rom. 8:37). And with that Apollyon spread

forth his dragon's wings, and sped him away, that Christian saw him no more (James 4:7).

In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what yelling

and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight -- he spake like a dragon; and,

on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all

the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon

36

with his two-edged sword; then, indeed, he did smile and look upward; but it was the

dreadfullest sight that ever I saw.

A more unequal match can hardly be, --

Christian must fight an angel; but you see,

The valiant man by handling Sword and Shield,

Doth make him, though a Dragon, quit the field.

So when the battle was over, Christian said, “I will here give thanks to him that

delivered me out of the mouth of the lion, to him that did help me against Apollyon.” And

so he did, saying --

Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend,

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 the leaves of the Tree of Life, the which

Christian took, and applied to the wounds that he had received in the battle, and was

healed immediately. He also sat down in that place to eat bread, and to drink of the bottle

that was given him a little before (Ps. 23:5; 1Cor. 10:31); so, being refreshed, he

addressed himself to his journey, with his sword drawn in his hand; for he said, I know

not but some other enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other affront from

Apollyon quite through this valley.

Now, at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley of the Shadow of Death,

and Christian must needs go through it, because The Way to the Celestial City lay through

the midst of it. Now, this valley is a very solitary place (2Esd. 7:6-9). The prophet

Jeremiah thus describes it: “A wilderness, a land of deserts and of pits, a land of drought,

and of the shadow of death, a land that no man” (but a Christian) “passed through, and

where no man dwelt” (Jer. 2:6).

Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon; as by the sequel

you shall see.

I saw then in my dream, that when Christian was got to the borders of the Shadow of

Death, there met him two men, children of them that brought up an evil report of the good

land (Num. 13.), making haste to go back; to whom Christian spake as follows:-

Chr. Whither are you going?

Men. They said, Back! back! and we would have you to do so too, if either life or peace

is prized by you.

Chr. Why, what's the matter? said Christian.

Men. Matter! said they; we were going that way as you are going, and went as far as we

durst; and indeed we were almost past coming back; for had we gone a little farther, we

had not been here to bring the news to thee.

Chr. But what have you met with? said Christian.

37

Men. Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death; but that, by good

hap, we looked before us, and saw the danger before we came to it (Ps. 44:19, 107:10).

Chr. But what have you seen? said Christian.

Men. Seen! Why, the valley itself, which is as dark as pitch; we also saw there the

hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit; we heard also in that valley a continual

howling and yelling, as of a people under unutterable misery, who there sat bound in

affliction and irons; and over that valley hang the discouraging clouds of confusion.

Death also doth always spread his wings over it. In a word, it is every whit dreadful, being

utterly without order (Job 3:5, 10:22).

Chr. Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but that this is my

way to the desired haven (Jer. 2:6, 7).

Men. Be it thy way; we will not choose it for ours.

So they parted, and Christian went on his way, but still with his sword drawn in his

hand, for fear lest he should be assaulted.

I saw then in my dream, so far as this valley reached, there was on the right hand a very

deep ditch: that ditch is it into which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and have

both there miserably perished (Ps. 69:14, 15; Matt. 15:14). Again, behold, on the left hand

there was a very dangerous quag, into which, if even a good man falls, he finds no bottom

for his foot to stand on. Into that quag King David once did fall, and had no doubt therein

been smothered, had not he that is able plucked him out.

The pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian was the

more put to it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was

ready to tip over into the mire on the other; also, when he sought to escape the mire,

without great carefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on,

and I heard him here sigh bitterly; for, besides the dangers mentioned above, the pathway

was here so dark, and ofttimes, when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not

where or upon what he should set it next.

Poor man! where art thou now? thy day is night.

Good man, be not cast down, thou yet art right,

Thy way to heaven lies by the gates of hell;

Cheer up, hold out, with thee it shall go well.

About the midst of this valley I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and it stood also hard

by the wayside. Now, thought Christian, what shall I do? And ever and anon the flame

and smoke would come out in such abundance, with sparks and hideous noises (things

that cared not for Christian's sword, as did Apollyon before), that he was forced to put up

his sword, and betake himself to another weapon, called “All-prayer” (Eph. 6:18). So he

cried in my hearing, “O Lord, I beseech Thee, deliver my soul!” (Ps. 116:4). Thus he went

on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him. Also he heard

doleful voices, and rushings to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should be torn

in pieces, or trodden down like mire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these

dreadful noises were heard by him for several miles together; and coming to a place where

he thought he heard a company of fiends coming forward to meet him, he stopped, and

began to muse what he had best to do. Sometimes he had half a thought to go back; then

again he thought he might be half way through the valley; he remembered also how he

had already vanquished many a danger, and that the danger of going back might be much

38

more than to go forward; so he resolved to go on. Yet the fiends seemed to come nearer

and nearer; but when they were come even almost at him, he cried out with a most

vehement voice, “I will walk in the strength of the Lord God!” so they gave back, and

came no farther.

One thing I would not let slip: I took notice that now poor Christian was so confounded

that he did not know his own voice; and thus I perceived it: just when he was come over

against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped

up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which

he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it

than 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.

When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some considerable time, he

thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, “Though I walk through

the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me (Ps. 23:4).

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 9:11).

Thirdly, For that he hoped, could he overtake them, to have company by and by. So he

went on, and called to him that was before; but he knew not what to answer; for that he

also thought himself to be alone. And by and by the day broke; then said Christian, He

hath turned “the shadow of death into the morning” (Amos 5:8).

Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return, but to see, by the

light of the day, what hazards he had gone through in the dark. So he saw more perfectly

the ditch that was on the one hand, and the quag that was on the other; also how narrow

The Way was which led betwixt them both; also now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs,

and dragons of the pit, but all afar off (for after break of day, they came not nigh); yet they

were discovered to him, according to that which is written, “He discovereth deep things

out of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death” (Job 12:22).

Now was Christian much affected with his deliverance from all the dangers of his

solitary way (Thom. 8:7); which dangers, though he feared them more before, yet he saw

them more clearly now, because the light of the day made them conspicuous to him. And

about this time the sun was rising, and this was another mercy to Christian; for you must

note, that though the first part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet

this second part which he was yet to go, was, if possible, far more dangerous; for, from

the place where he now stood, even to the end of the valley, The Way was all along set so

full of snares, traps, gins, and nets here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and

shelvings down there, that, had it now been dark, as it was when he came the first part of

The Way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away; but, as I said

just now, the sun was rising. Then, said he, “His candle shineth on my head, and when by

His light I walk through darkness” (Job 29:3).

In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley. Now I saw in my dream, that at

the end of this valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men, even of

39

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 (2Thess. 2:3, 4) and

Pagan, dwelt in old time; by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, blood,

ashes, etc., lay there, were cruelly put to death (Rev. 13:7; 17:6; 18:24). But by this place

Christian went without much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered; but I have learnt

since that Pagan has been dead many a day; and as for the other, though he be yet alive, he

is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd brushes that he met with in his younger

days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, that he can now do little more than sit in his

cave's mouth, grinning* at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because he

cannot come at them.

*The balcony in the Vatican, overlooking the square, from which the pope waves.

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 set a good face on it, and so went by and catched no

hurt. Then sang Christian --

O world of wonders! (I can say no less)

That I should be preserved in that distress

That I have met with here! O blessed be

That hand that from it hath 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, therefore, Christian went, and

looking forward, he saw Faithful before him, upon his journey. Then said Christian aloud,

“Ho! ho! soho! stay, and I will be your companion!” At that, Faithful looked behind him;

to whom Christian cried again, “Stay, stay, till I come up to you.” But Faithful answered,

“No, I am upon my life, and the avenger of blood is behind me.”

At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, he quickly got up

with Faithful, and did also overrun him; so the last was first. Then did Christian vaingloriously

smile because he had gotten the start of his brother; but not taking good heed

to his feet, he suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise again until Faithful came up

to help him.

Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on together, and had sweet discourse

of all things that had happened to them in their pilgrimage; and thus Christian began:-

Chr. My 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 your company quite from our town; but

you did get the start of me, wherefore I was forced to come thus much of The Way alone.

Chr. How long did you stay in the City of Destruction before you set out after me on

40

your pilgrimage?

Faith. Till I could stay no longer; for there was great talk presently after you were gone

out, that our city would, in short time, with fire from heaven, be burned down to the

ground.

Chr. What! did your neighbours talk so?

Faith. Yes, it was for a while in everybody's mouth.

Chr. What! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger (2Esdras

16:28)?

Faith. Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not think they did

firmly believe it. For, in the heat of the discourse, I heard some of them deridingly speak

of you and of your desperate journey (for so they called this your pilgrimage); but I did

believe, and do still, that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from above;

and therefore I have made my escape.

Chr. Did you hear no talk of 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.

Chr. And what said the neighbours to him?

Faith. He hath, since his going back, been had greatly in derision, and that among all

sorts of people; some do mock and despise him, and scarce will any set him on work. He

is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the city.

Chr. But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise The Way that

he forsook?

Faith. Oh, they say, hang him, he is a turncoat! he was not true to his profession. I think

God has stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because he

hath forsaken The Way (Jer. 29:18, 19).

Chr. Had you no talk with him before you came out?

Faith. I met him once in the streets, but he leered away on the other side, as one

ashamed of what he had done; so I spake not to him.

Chr. Well, at my first setting out I had hopes of that man; but now I fear he will perish

in the overthrow of the city; for it is happened to him according to the true proverb, “The

dog is turned to his own vomit again; and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in

the mire” (2Pet. 2:22).

Faith. These are my fears of him too; but who can hinder that which will be?

Chr. Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk of things that

more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me now what you have met with in The Way as

you came; for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder.

Faith. I escaped the slough that I perceived you fell into, and got up to the gate without

that danger; only I met with one whose name was 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 (Gen. 39:11-13). But what did she

do to you?

Faith. You cannot think, but that you know something, what a flattering tongue she

had; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all manner of content.

Chr. Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good conscience.

Faith. You know what I mean: all carnal and fleshly content.

41

Chr. Thank God you have escaped her: The “mouth of strange women is a deep pit: he

that is abhorred by the Lord shall fall therein” (Prov. 22:14).

Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her or no.

Chr. Why, I trow, you did not consent to her desires?

Faith. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old writing that I had seen, which

said, “Her steps take hold on hell” (Prov. 5:5). So I shut mine eyes, because I would not

be bewitched with her looks (Job 31:1). Then she railed on me, and I went my way.

Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you came?

Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man,

who asked me what I was, and whither bound. I told him that I was a pilgrim, going to the

Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be

content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall give thee? Then I asked him his name,

and where he dwelt. He said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town

of Deceit (Eph. 4:22). I asked him then what was his work? and what the wages that he

would give? He told me that his work was many delights; and his wages, that I should be

his heir at last. I further asked him what house he kept? and what other servants he had?

So he told me that his house was maintained with all the dainties in the world; and that his

servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked if he had any children. He said that

he had but three daughters: The Lust of the Flesh, The Lust of the Eyes, and The Pride of

Life, and that I should marry them all if I would (1John 2:16). Then I asked how long time

he would have me live with him? And he told me, As long as he lived himself.

Chr. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last?

Faith. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the man, for I

thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead, as I talked with him, I saw there

written, “Put off the old man with his deeds.”

Chr. And how then?

Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, and however he

flattered, when he got me home to his house he would sell me for a slave. So I bid him

forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then he reviled me, and

told me that he would send such a one after me, that should make my way bitter to my

soul. So I turned to go away from him; but just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him

take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had

pulled part of me after himself. This made me cry, “O wretched man!” (Rom. 7:24). So I

went on my way up the hill.

Now when I had got about half way up, I looked behind me, and saw one coming after

me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place where the settle stands.

Chr. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to 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 for dead. But when I was a little

come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me so. He said, because of my

secret inclining to Adam the First: and with that he struck me another deadly blow on the

breast, and beat me down backward; so I lay at his foot as dead, as before. So when I

came to myself again, I cried him mercy; but he said, I know not how to show mercy; and

with that he knocked me down again. He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one

came by, and bid him forbear.

Chr. Who was that that bid him forbear.

42

Faith. I did not know him at first, but as he went by, I perceived the holes in his hands

and in his side; then I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill.

Chr. That man that overtook you was Moses. He spareth none, neither knoweth he how

to show mercy to those that transgress his law.

Faith. I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met with me. It was he

that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me he would burn my house

over my head if I stayed there.

Chr. But did not you see the house that stood there on the top of that hill, on the side of

which Moses met you?

Faith. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it. But for the lions, I think they were

asleep, for it was about noon; and because I had so much of the day before me, I passed

by the Porter, and came down the hill.

Chr. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by; but I wished that you had called at the

house, for they would have showed you so many rarities, that you would scarce have

forgot them to the day of your death. But, pray tell me, Did you meet nobody in the Valley

of Humility?

Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have persuaded me to go

back again with him; his reason was, for that the valley was altogether without 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 he named might claim kindred of me, and

that rightly, for indeed they were my relations according to the flesh; yet since I

became a pilgrim they have disowned me, as I also have rejected them; and therefore they

were to me now no more than if they had never been of my lineage. I told him, moreover,

that as to this valley, he had quite misrepresented the thing; “for before honour is

humility, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” Therefore, said I, I had rather go through

this valley to the honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than choose that which he

esteemed most worthy of our affections.

Chr. Met you with nothing else in that valley?

Faith. Yes, I met with Shame; but of all the men that I met with in my pilgrimage, he, I

think, bears the wrong name. The other would be said nay, after a little argumentation,

and somewhat else; but this bold-faced Shame would never have done.

Chr. Why, what did he say to you?

Faith. What! why he objected against religion itself; he said it was a pitiful, low,

sneaking business for a man to mind religion; he said that a tender conscience was an

unmanly thing; and that for a man to watch over his words and ways, so as to tie up

himself from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirits of the times accustom themselves

unto, would make him the ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few of the

mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my opinion (1Cor. 1:26; 3:18; Phil. 3:7, 8); nor any of

them neither (John 7:48), 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 to the

base and low estate and condition of those that were chiefly the pilgrims of the times in

which they lived: also their ignorance and want of understanding in all natural science.

Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also about a great many more things than here I

relate: as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to

43

come sighing and groaning home; that it was a shame to ask my neighbour forgiveness for

petty faults, or to make restitution where I have taken from any. He said, also, that

religion made a man grow strange to the great, because of a few vices, which he called by

finer names; and made him own and respect the base, because of the same religious

fraternity. And is not this, said he, a shame?

Chr. And what did you say to him?

Faith. Say! I could not tell what to say at the first. Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood

came up in my face; even this Shame fetched it up, and had almost beat me quite off. But

at last I began to consider, that “that which is highly esteemed among men is

abomination in the sight of God” (Luke 16:15). And I thought again, this Shame tells

me what men are; but he tells me nothing what God or the Word of God is. And I thought,

moreover, that at the Day of Doom we shall not be doomed to Death or Life

according to the hectoring spirits of the world, but according to the Wisdom and

Law of the Highest. Therefore, thought I, what God says is best, 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 themselves fools for the

Kingdom of heaven are wisest; and that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer than

the greatest man in the world that hates Him; Shame, depart, thou art an enemy to my

salvation! Shall I entertain thee against my sovereign Lord? How then shall I look him in

the face at his coming? Should I now be ashamed of his ways and servants, how can I

expect the blessing? (Mark 8:38). But, indeed, this Shame was a bold villain. I could

scarce shake him out of my company; yea, he would be haunting of me, and continually

whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the infirmities that attend religion; but

at last I told him it was but in vain to attempt further in this business; for those things that

he disdained, in those did I see most glory; and so at last I got past this importunate one.

And when I had shaken him off, then I began to sing –

The trials 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.

O let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims then

Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men!

Chr. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst withstand this villain so bravely: for of all,

as thou sayest, I think he has the wrong name; for he is so bold as to follow us in the

streets, and to attempt to put us to shame before all men: that is, to make us ashamed of

that which is good; but if he was not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do as

he does. But let us still resist him; for notwithstanding all his bravadoes, he promoteth the

fool, and none else. “The wise shall inherit glory,” said Solomon; “but shame shall be the

promotion of fools” (Prov. 3:35).

Faith. I think we must cry to Him, for help against Shame, that would have us to be

valiant for the truth upon the earth.

Chr. You say true; but did you meet nobody else in that valley?

Faith. No, not I; for I had sunshine all the rest of The Way through that, and also

44

through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

Chr. 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 dreadful combat with that foul fiend

Apollyon; yea, I thought verily he would have killed me, especially when he got me down

and crushed me under him, as if he would have crushed me to pieces; for, as he threw me,

my sword flew out of my hand; nay, he told me he was sure of me: but I cried to God, and

He heard me, and delivered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the Valley of

the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half The Way through it. I thought I

should have been killed there, over and over; but at last day broke, and the sun rose, and I

went through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet.

Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on

one side, saw a man whose name was Talkative, walking at a distance beside them; for in

this place there was room enough for them all to walk. He was a tall man, and something

more comely at a distance than at hand. To this man Faithful addressed himself in this

manner:-

Faith. Friend, whither away? Are you going to the heavenly country?

Talk. I am going to that same place.

Faith. That is well; then I hope we may have your good company.

Talk. With a very good will, will I be your companion.

Faith. Come on, then, and let us go together, and let us spend our time in discoursing of

things that are profitable.

Talk. To talk of things that are good to me is very acceptable, with you or with any

other; and I am glad that I have met with those that incline to so good a work; for, to

speak the truth, there are but few that care thus to spend their time (as they are in their

travels), but choose much rather to be speaking of things to no profit; and this hath been a

trouble for me.

Faith. That is, indeed, a thing to be lamented; for what things so worthy of the use of

the tongue and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of the God of heaven?

Talk. I like you wonderful well, for your sayings are full of conviction; and I will add,

what thing is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God? What

things so pleasant? (that is, if a man hath any delight in things that are wonderful). For

instance, if a man doth delight to talk of the history or the mystery of things; or, if a man

doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or signs, where shall he find things recorded so

delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy Scripture?

Faith. That’s true; but to be profited by such things in our talk should be our chief

design.

Talk. That is it that I said; for to talk of such things is most profitable: for by so doing, a

man may get knowledge of many things; as of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit

of things above. Thus in general: but, more particularly, by this a man may learn the

necessity of the new birth, the insufficiency of our works, the need of Christ's

righteousness, etc. Besides, by this a man may learn what it is to repent, to believe, to

pray, to suffer, or the like; by this also a man may learn what are the great promises and

consolations of the gospel, to his own comfort. Further, by this a man may learn to refute

false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to instruct the ignorant.

Faith. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things from you.

Talk. Alas! the want of this is the cause that so few understand the need of faith, and the

necessity of a work of grace in their soul, in order to eternal life; but ignorantly live in the

45

works of The Law, by which a man can by no means obtain the Kingdom of heaven.

Faith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of these is the gift of God; no man

attaineth to them by human industry, or only by the talk of them.

Talk. All this I know very well; for a man can receive nothing except it be given him

from heaven: all is of grace, not of works. I could give you a hundred scriptures for the

confirmation of this.

Faith. Well, then, said Faithful, what is that one thing that we shall at this time found

our discourse upon?

Talk. What you will. I will talk of things heavenly, or things earthly; things moral, or

things evangelical; things sacred, or things profane; things past, or things to come; things

foreign, or things at home; things more essential, or things circumstantial: provided that

all be done to our profit.

Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and stepping to Christian (for he walked all

this while by himself), he said to him (but softly), What a brave companion have we got!

Surely this man will make a very excellent pilgrim.

Chr. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man, with whom you are so

taken, will beguile with that tongue of his twenty of them that know him not.

Faith. Do you know him, then?

Chr. Know him! Yes, better than he knows himself.

Faith. Pray, what is he?

Chr. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our town. I wonder that you should be a

stranger to him, only I consider that our town is large.

Faith. Whose son is he? And whereabout does he dwell?

Chr. He is the son of one Say-well; he dwelt in Prating Row; and is known of all that

are acquainted with him by the name of Talkative in Prating Row; and notwithstanding

his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow.

Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man.

Chr. That is, to them who have not thorough acquaintance with him: for he is best

abroad; near home he is ugly enough. Your saying that he is a pretty man brings to my

mind what I have observed in the work of 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.

Chr. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) in this matter, or that I should

accuse any falsely! I will give you a further discovery of him. This man is for any

company, and for any talk; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk when he is on the

ale-bench; and the more drink he hath in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his

mouth; religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation; all he hath lieth in

his tongue, and his religion is, to make a noise therewith.

Faith. Say you so! then am I in this man greatly deceived.

Chr. Deceived! you may be sure of it; remember the proverb, “They say, and do not

(Matt. 23:3). But the “Kingdom of God is not in word, but in power” (1Cor. 4:20). He

talketh of prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the new birth; but he knows but only to

talk of them. I have been in his family, and have observed him both at home and abroad;

and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty of religion as the white of

an egg is of savour (Job 6:6). There is there neither prayer nor sign of repentance for sin;

yea, the brute in his kind serves God far better than he. He is the very stain, reproach, and

shame of religion to all that know him; it can hardly have a good word in all that end of

46

the town where he dwells, through him (Rom. 2:23-25). Thus say the common people that

know him: “A saint abroad, and a devil at home.” His poor family finds it so; he is such

a churl, such a railer at, and so unreasonable with his servants, that they neither know how

to do for, or speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him say, It is better to deal

with a Turk than with him, for fairer dealing they shall have at their hands. This Talkative

(if it be possible) will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he

brings up his sons to follow his steps; and if he finds in any of them a foolish

timorousness (for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience), he calls them

fools and blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their

commendations before others. For my part, I am of opinion that he has, by his wicked life,

caused many to stumble and fall; and will be, if God prevent not, the ruin of many more.

Faith. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you; not only because you say you know

him, but also because, like a Christian, you make your reports of men. For I cannot think

that you speak these things of ill-will, but because it is even so as you say.

Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of him, as, at

the first, you did; yea, had he received this report at their hands only that are enemies to

religion, I should have thought it had been a slander -- a lot that often falls from bad men's

mouths upon good men's names and professions; but all these things, yea, and a great

many more as bad, of my own knowledge, I can prove him guilty of. Besides, good men

are ashamed of him; they can neither call him brother nor friend; the very naming of him

among them makes them blush, if they know him.

Faith. Well, I see that saying and doing are two things, and hereafter I shall better

observe this distinction.

Chr. They are two things, indeed, and are as diverse as are the soul and the body; for as

the body without the soul is but a dead carcass, so saying, if it be alone, is but a dead

carcass also. The soul of religion is the practical part: “Pure religion and undefiled, before

God and the Father, is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to

keep himself unspotted from the world” (James 1:22-27). This Talkative is not aware of;

he thinks that hearing and saying will make a good Christian, and thus he deceiveth

his own soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the seed; talking is not sufficient to prove

that fruit is indeed in the heart and life; and let us assure ourselves, that at the Day of

Doom men shall be judged according to their fruit (Matt. chapters 13 & 25). It will not be

said then, Did you believe? but, Were you doers, or talkers only? and accordingly shall

they be judged. The end of the world is compared to our harvest; and you know men at

harvest regard nothing but fruit. Not that anything can be accepted that is not of faith, but

I speak this to show you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that day.

Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he describeth the beast that is

clean (Lev. 11; Deut. 14). He is such a one that parteth the hoof and cheweth the cud; not

that parteth the hoof only, or that cheweth the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud, but yet

is unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. And this truly resembleth Talkative; he

cheweth the cud, he seeketh knowledge, he cheweth upon the word; but he divideth not

the hoof, he parteth not with the way of sinners*; but, as the hare, he retaineth the foot

of a dog or bear, and therefore he is unclean.

*He does not stop sinning.

Chr. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel-sense of these texts. And I will

add another thing: Paul calleth some men, yea, and those great talkers, too, “sounding

brass, or a tinkling cymbal,” that is, as he expounds them in another place, “things without

47

life, giving sound*” (1Cor. 13:1-3; 14:7). Things without Life, that is, without the true

faith and grace of the gospel; and consequently, things that shall never be placed in the

Kingdom of heaven among those that are the children of Life; though their sound, by

their talk, be as if it were the tongue or voice of an angel.

*In the mouth as sweet as honey.

Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but I am as sick of it now. What

shall we do to be rid of him?

Chr. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will soon be sick of

your company too, except God shall touch his heart, and turn it.

Faith. What would you have me to do?

Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about the power of religion;

and ask him plainly (when he has approved of it, for that he will) whether this thing be set

up in his heart, house, or conversation.

Faith. Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative, Come, what cheer?

How is it now?

Talk. Thank you, well. I thought we should have had a great deal of talk by this time.

Faith. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you left it with me to state the

question, let it be this: How doth the saving grace of God discover itself, when it is in the

heart of man?

Talk. I perceive, then, that our talk must be about the power of things. Well, it is a very

good question, and I shall be willing to answer you. And take my answer in brief, thus:

First, Where the grace of God is in the heart, it causeth there a great outcry* against sin.

Secondly –

*words.

Faith. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once. I think you should rather say, It shows

itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin.

Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhorring of sin?

Faith. Oh, a great deal! A man may cry out against sin of policy, but he cannot abhor

it, but by virtue of a Godly antipathy against it. I have heard many cry out against sin in

the pulpit who yet can abide it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation.

Joseph's mistress cried out with a loud voice, as if she had been very holy (Gen.

39:15); but she would willingly, notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with

him. Some cry out against sin, even as the mother cries out against her child in her lap,

when she calleth it slut and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.

Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive.

Faith. No, not I; I am only for setting things right. But what is the second thing whereby

you would prove a discovery of a work of grace in the heart?

Talk. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries.

Faith. This sign should have been first; but first or last, it is also false; for knowledge,

great knowledge, may be obtained in the mysteries of the gospel, and yet no work of grace

in the soul (1Cor. 13:2). 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

48

which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good without knowledge; for without that,

the heart is naught. There is, therefore, knowledge (information) and knowledge

(understanding). Knowledge that resteth in the bare speculation of things; and knowledge

that is accompanied with the grace of faith and love; which puts a man upon doing even

the Will of God from the heart: the first of these will serve the talker; but without the

other the true Christian is not content. “Give me understanding, and I shall keep Thy

Law; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart” (Ps. 119:34).

Talk. You lie at the catch again; this is not for edification.

Faith. Well, if you please, propound another sign how this work of grace discovereth

itself where it is.

Talk. Not I, for I see we shall not agree.

Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it?

Talk. You may use your liberty.

Faith. A work of grace in the soul discovereth itself, either to him that hath it, or to

standers by.

To him that hath it thus: It gives him conviction of sin, especially of the defilement of

his nature, and the sin of unbelief, for the sake of which he is sure to be damned, if he

findeth not mercy at God's hand, by faith in Christ Jesus (Mark 16:16; John 16:8, 9; Rom.

7:24). This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for sin; he

findeth, moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity of

closing with him for Life, at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him; to

which hungerings, etc., the promise is made (Ps. 38:18; Jer. 31:19; Gal. 2:16; Acts 4:12;

Matt. 5:6; Rev. 21:6). 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 corruptions now, and his abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this

matter; therefore, in him that hath this work, there is required a very sound judgment

before he can, with steadiness, conclude that this is a work of grace.

To others, it is thus discovered:

1. By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ (Rom. 10:10; Phil. 1:27; 2:11;

Matt. 5:19).

2. By a life answerable to that confession; to wit, a life of holiness, heart-holiness,

family-holiness (if he hath a family), and by conversation-holiness in the world; which, in

the general, teacheth him, inwardly, to abhor his sin, and himself for that, in secret; to

suppress it in his family and to promote holiness in the world; not by talk only*, as a

hypocrite or talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection, in faith and love, to

the power of the Word (John 14:15; Job 42:5, 6; Ps. 50:23; Ezek. 20:43). And now, sir,

as to this brief description of the work of grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have

ought to object, object; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a second question.

*In his mouth as sweet as honey.

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 doth your

life and conversation testify the same? or, standeth your religion in word or in tongue,

and not in deed and truth? Pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than you

49

know that God above will say Amen to; and also nothing but what your conscience can

justify you in; “for, not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord

commendeth.” Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when my conversation, and all my

neighbours, tell me I lie, is great wickedness.

Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush; but, recovering himself, thus he replied:

You come now to experience, to conscience, and God; and to appeal to Him for

justification of what is spoken. This kind of discourse I did not expect; nor am I disposed

to give an answer to such questions, because I count not myself bound thereto, unless you

take upon you to be a catechiser, and, though you should so do, yet I may refuse to make

you my judge. But, I pray, will you tell me why you ask me such questions?

Faith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not that you had aught

else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the truth, I have heard of you, that you are a man

whose religion lies in talk, and that your conversation gives this your mouth-profession

the lie. They say you are a spot among Christians, and that religion fareth the worse for

your unGodly conversation; that some have already stumbled at your wicked ways, and

that more are in danger of being destroyed thereby; your religion and an alehouse, and

covetousness, and uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and vain-company keeping, etc.,

will stand together. You are a shame to all professors.

Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports, and to judge so rashly as you do, I cannot

but conclude you are some peevish or melancholy man, not fit to be discoursed with; and

so adieu.

Chr. Then came up Christian, and said to his brother, I told you how it would happen:

your words and his lusts could not agree; he had rather leave your company than

reform his life. But he is gone, as I said; let him go, the loss is no man's but his own; he

has saved us the trouble of going from him; for he continuing (as I suppose he will do) as

he is, he would have been but a blot in our company; besides, the apostle says, “From

such withdraw thyself.”

Faith. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him; it may happen that he will

think of it again: however, I have dealt plainly with him, and so am clear of his blood if he

perisheth.

Chr. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did; there is but little of this faithful

dealing with men nowadays, 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 conversation, that (being so much admitted into the

fellowship of the Godly) do puzzle the world, blemish Christianity, and grieve the sincere.

I wish that all men would deal with such as you have done; then should they either be

made more conformable to religion, or the company of the holy would be too hot for

them. Then did Faithful say --

How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes!

How bravely doth he speak! How he presumes

To drive down all before him! But so soon

As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon

That's past the full, into the wane he goes:

And so will all but he that heart-work knows.

Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by The Way, and so made that way

50

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. Ay, and my good friend too, said Faithful, for it was he that set me The Way

to the gate. Now was Evangelist come up to them, and thus saluted them:-

Evan. Peace be with you, dearly beloved; and peace be to your helpers.

Chr. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist; the sight of thy countenance brings to

my remembrance thy ancient kindness and unwearied labouring for my eternal good.

Faith. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful. Thy company, O sweet

Evangelist, how desirable it is to us poor pilgrims!

Evan. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, my friends, since the time of

our last parting? What have you met with, and how have you behaved yourselves?

Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had happened to them in The

Way; and how, and with what difficulty, they had arrived to that place.

Evan. Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have met with trials, but that you

have been victors; and for that you have, notwithstanding many weaknesses, continued

in The Way to this very day.

I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own sake and yours. I have sowed,

and you have reaped: and the day is coming when both he that sowed and they that reaped

shall rejoice together; that is, if you holdout: for in due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not

(John 4:36; Gal. 6:9). The crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one; “so run, that

ye may obtain” (1Cor. 9:24-27). Some there be that set out for this crown, and, after they

have gone far for it, another comes in, and takes it from them: hold fast, therefore, that

you have; let no man* take your crown (Rev. 3:11). You are not yet out of the gun-shot of

the devil; you have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin; let the Kingdom be

always before you, and believe steadfastly concerning things that are invisible. Let

nothing that is on this side the other world get within you; and, above all, look well to

your own hearts, and to the lusts thereof, “for they are deceitful above all things, and

desperately wicked”; set your faces like a flint; you have all power in heaven and earth

on your side.

*Even your own man/human body/“Self”.

Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation; but told him, withal, that they would

have him speak further to them for their help the rest of The Way; and the rather for that

they well knew that he was a prophet, and could tell them of things that might happen

unto them, and 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 immediately

follow; for now, as you see, you are almost out of this wilderness, and therefore you will

soon come into a town that you will by and by see before you; and in that town you will

be hardly beset with enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you; and be you sure

that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold with blood; but be you

51

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, as unto a faithful Creator.

Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness, they presently

saw a town before them, and the name of that town is Vanity; and at the town there is a

fair kept called Vanity Fair: it is kept all the year long; it beareth the name of Vanity

Fair, because the town where it is kept is lighter than vanity; and also because all that is

there sold, or that cometh thither, is vanity. As is the saying of the wise, “All that cometh

is vanity” (Eccles. 1:2, 14; 2:17; 11:8; Isa. 40:17).

This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient standing; I will show you the

origin of it.

Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims walking to the Celestial City, as

these two honest persons are: and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their

companions, perceiving, by the path that the pilgrims made, that their way to the city lay

through this town of Vanity*, they contrived here to set up a fair; a fair wherein should

be sold all sorts of vanity, and that it should last all the year long: therefore at this fair are

all such merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, 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.

*Chang Shah - "The Silent Flute”.

And, moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen juggling, cheats, games, plays,

fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every kind.

Here are to be seen, too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries, false swearers,

and that of a blood-red colour.

And as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and streets, under their

proper names, where such and such wares are vended; so here likewise you have the

proper places, rows, and streets (viz. countries and kingdoms) where the wares of this fair

are soonest to be found. Here is the Britain Row, the French Row, the Italian Row, the

Spanish Row, the German Row (the E.E.C. founded upon the "Treaty of Rome"), where

several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as in other fairs, some one commodity is as

the chief of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted

in this fair (Rev. 18:1-3); only our English nation, with some others, have taken a

dislike thereat.

Now, as I said, The Way to the Celestial City lies just through this town where this lusty

fair is kept; and he that will go to the city, and yet not go through this town, must needs

“go out of the world” (1Cor. 5:10). The Prince of princes himself, when here, went

through this town to his own country, and that upon a fair day too; yea, and as I think, it

was Beelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities; yea,

would have made him lord of the fair, would he but have done him reverence as he

went through the town (Matt. 4:8; Luke 4:5-7). Yea, because he was such a person of

honour, Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed him all the kingdoms of the

world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure the Blessed One to cheapen and buy

52

some of his vanities; but he had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore left the town

without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities. This fair, therefore, is an

ancient thing, of long standing, and a very great fair. Now these pilgrims, as I said, must

needs go through this fair. Well, so they did; but, behold, even as they entered into the

fair, all the people in the fair were moved, and the town itself as it were in a hubbub about

them; and that for several reasons: for --

First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment as was diverse from the

raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of the fair made a great

gazing upon them: some said they were fools, some they were bedlams, and some they

were outlandish men (1Cor. 2:7, 8).

Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at their speech;

for few could understand what they said (Isa. 33:19); they naturally spoke the language of

Canaan, but they that kept the fair were the men of this world; so that, from one end of the

fair to the other, they seemed barbarians each to the other.

Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandisers was, that these pilgrims

set very light by all their wares; they cared not so much as to look upon them; and if they

called upon them to buy, they would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, “Turn away

mine eyes from beholding vanity,” and look upwards, signifying that their trade and

traffic was in heaven (Ps. 119:37; Phil. 3:19, 20).

One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, to say unto them, What will

ye buy? But they, looking gravely upon him, answered, “We buy the truth” (Prov.

23:23). At that there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more; some mocking,

some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them.

At last things came to a hubbub and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was

confounded. Now was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly

came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take these men into

examination, about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men were brought to

examination; and they that sat upon them asked them whence they came, whither they

went, and what they did there, in such an unusual garb? The men told them that they were

pilgrims and strangers in the world, and that they were going to their own country, which

was the heavenly Jerusalem (Heb. 11:13-16); and that they had given no occasion to the

men of the town, nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their

journey, except it was for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they said they

would buy the truth. But they that were appointed to examine them did not believe them

to be any other than bedlams and mad, or else such as came to put all things into a

confusion in the fair. Therefore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them with

dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a spectacle to all the men of

the fair.

Behold Vanity Fair! the pilgrims there

Are chain'd and stand beside:

Even so it was our Lord pass'd here,

And on Mount Calvary died.

There, therefore, they lay for some time, and were made the objects of any man's sport,

or malice, or revenge, the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell them. But the

men being patient, and not rendering railing for railing, but contrariwise blessing, and

53

giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair that were

more observing, and less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort

for their continual abuses done by them to the men; they, therefore, in angry manner, let

fly at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the cage, and telling them that they

seemed confederates, and should be made partakers of their misfortunes. The other

replied, that for aught they could see, the men were quiet, and sober, and intended nobody

any harm; and that there were many that traded in their fair that were more worthy to be

put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, than were the men they had abused. Thus, after

diverse words had passed on both sides, the men behaving themselves all the while very

wisely and soberly before them, they fell to some blows among themselves, and did harm

one to another. Then were these two poor men brought before their examiners again, and

there charged as being guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat

them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and down the fair,

for an example and a terror to others, lest any should speak in their behalf, or join

themselves unto them. But Christian and Faithful behaved themselves yet more wisely,

and received the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them with so much meekness

and patience, that it won to their side (though but few in comparison of the rest) several of

the men in the fair. This put the other party yet into greater rage, insomuch that they

concluded the death of these two men. Wherefore 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

Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in their way and sufferings by what he told them

would happen to them. They also now comforted each other, that whose lot it was to

suffer, even he should have the best of it; therefore each man secretly wished that he

might have that preferment; but committing themselves to the all-wise disposal of Him

that ruleth all things, with much content they abode in the condition in which they were

until they should be otherwise disposed of.

Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their trial, in order

to their condemnation. When the time was come, they were brought before their enemies

and arraigned. The judge's name was Lord Hategood. Their indictment was one and the

same in substance, though somewhat varying in form; the contents whereof were these:-

“That they were enemies to and disturbers of their trade; that they had made

commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own most dangerous

opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince.”

Now, Faithful, play the man, speak for thy God:

Fear not the wicked’s malice, nor their rod:

Speak boldly, man, the truth is on thy side:

Die for it, and to Life in triumph ride.

Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himself against that which hath set

itself against Him that is higher than the highest. And, said he, as for disturbance, I made

none, being myself a man of peace; the parties that were won to us, were won by

54

beholding our truth and innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better.

And as to the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy him

and all his angels.

Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught to say for their lord the king

against the prisoner at the bar should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there

came in three witnesses, to wit, Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank. They were then asked

if they knew the prisoner at the bar; and what they had to say for their lord the king

against him.

Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect: My lord, I have known this man a long

time, and will attest upon my oath before this honourable bench that he is --

Judge. Hold! Give him his oath. (So they sware him - on the Bible.) Then he said --

Envy. My lord, this man, notwithstanding his plausible name, is one of the vilest men in

our country. He neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom; but doth all that he

can to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the general calls

principles of faith and holiness. And, in particular, I heard him once myself affirm that

Christianity and the customs of our town of Vanity were diametrically opposite, and could

not be reconciled. By which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our

laudable doings, but us in the doing of them.

Judge. Then did the judge say to him, Hast thou any more to say?

Envy. My lord, I could say much more, only I would not 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

to stand by.

Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner. They also asked,

what he could say for their lord the king against him. Then they sware him (on the Bible);

so he began --

Super. My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I desire to have

further knowledge of him; however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from

some discourse that, the other day, I had with him in this town; for then, talking with him,

I heard him say that our religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means

please God. Which sayings of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows what

necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we do still worship in vain, are yet in our sins,

and finally shall be damned; and this is that which I have to say.

Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew in behalf of their lord the king

against the prisoner at the bar.

Pick. My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I have known of a long time, and have

heard him speak things that ought not to be spoken; for he hath railed on our noble prince

Beelzebub, and hath spoken contemptibly of his honourable friends, whose names are the

lord Old Man, the lord Carnal Delight, the lord Luxurious, the lord Desire of Vain-Glory,

my old lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of our nobility; and he hath said,

moreover, that if all men were of his mind, if possible, there is not one of these noblemen

should have any longer a being in this town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on

you, my lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, calling you an unGodly villain, with

many other such-like vilifying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of

our town.

When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge directed his speech to the prisoner at

the bar, saying, Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest

55

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, to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never said aught but this, that

what rule, or laws, or customs, or people, were flat against the Word of God, are

diametrically opposite to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my

error, and I am ready here before you to make my recantation.

2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against me, I said only this,

that in the worship of God there is required a divine faith; but there can be no divine faith

without a divine revelation of the Will of God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the

worship of God that is not agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be done but by a human

faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal life.

3. As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, I say (avoiding terms, as that I am said to rail,

and the like), that the prince of this town, with all the rabblement, his attendants, by this

gentleman named, are more fit for being in hell-fire than in this town and country; and so,

the Lord have mercy upon me!

Then the judge called to the jury (who all this while stood by to hear and observe):

Gentlemen of the jury, you see this man about whom so great an uproar hath been made in

this town. You have also heard what these worthy gentlemen have witnessed against him.

Also you have heard his reply and confession. It lieth now in your breasts to hang him or

save his life; but yet I think meet to instruct you 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 (Exod. 1). 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 (Dan. 3). There was

also an act made in the days of Darius, that whoso, for some time, called upon any god but

him, should be cast into the lions' den (Dan. 6). Now the substance of these laws this rebel

has broken, not only in thought (which is not to be borne), but also in word and deed;

which must therefore needs be intolerable. For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a

supposition, to prevent mischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is a crime

apparent. For the second and third, you see he disputeth against our religion; and for the

treason he hath confessed, he deserveth to die the death.

Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice,

Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr.

Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Implacable; who every one gave in his private verdict

against him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in

guilty before the judge. And first among themselves, Mr. Blindman, the foreman, said, I

see clearly that this man is a heretic. Then said Mr. No-good, Away with such a fellow

from the earth. Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate the very looks of him. Then said Mr. Lovelust,

I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would always be

condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. Highmind.

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. Hatelight.

Then said Mr. Implacable, Might I have all the world given me, I could not be

56

reconciled to him; therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death. And so they did;

therefore he was presently condemned to be had from the place where he was, to the place

from whence he came, and there to be put to the most cruel death that could be invented.

They therefore brought him out, to do with him according to their law; and first they

scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced his flesh with knives; after that

they stoned him with stones, then pricked him with their swords; and, last of all, they

burned him to ashes at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end.

Now I saw that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple of horses waiting

for Faithful, who (so soon as his adversaries had 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.

Brave Faithful, bravely done in word and deed;

Judge, witnesses, and jury have, instead

Of overcoming thee, but shown their rage:

When they are dead, thou'lt live from age to age.

But as for Christian, he had some respite, and was remanded back to prison*. So he

there remained for a space; but he that overrules all things, having the power of their rage

in his own hand, so wrought it about, that Christian for that time escaped them, and went

his way; and as he went, he sang, saying –

Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest

Unto thy Lord; with Whom thou shalt be blest,

When faithless ones, with all their vain delights,

Are crying out under their hellish plights.

Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive;

For, though they kill'd thee, thou art yet alive.

*Because he had not killed the “Self” as Faithful had done, and Faithful was free from

the prison of “Self”.

Now I saw in my dream that Christian went not forth alone, for there was 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. This Hopeful also told Christian that there were many

more of the men in the fair that would take their time and follow after*.

*He hoped (Hopeful).

So I saw that, quickly after they were got out of the fair, they overtook one that was

going before them, whose name was By-ends: so they said to him, What countryman, sir?

and how far go you this way? He told them that he came from the town of Fair-speech,

and he was going to the Celestial City, but told them not his name.

From Fair-speech! said Christian. Is there any good that lives there? (Prov. 26:25).

By-ends. Yes, said By-ends, I hope.

57

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 be glad

of your company; if not, I must be content.

Chr. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, I have heard of; and, as I remember, they

say it 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 particular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord

Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech (from whose ancestors that town first took its name),

also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Any-thing; and the parson of our

parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my mother's own brother by father's side: and, to tell you

the truth, I am become a gentleman of good quality, yet my great-grandfather was but a

waterman, looking one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the

same occupation.

Chr. Are you a married man?

By-ends. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, the daughter of a virtuous

woman; she was my Lady Feigning's daughter, therefore she came of a very honourable

family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breeding that she knows how to carry it to all,

even to prince and peasant. It is true we somewhat differ in religion from those of the

stricter sort, yet but in two small points: first, we never strive against wind and tide;

secondly, we are always most zealous when Religion goes in his silver slippers; we loved

much to walk with him in the street, if the sun shines and the people applaud him.

Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow Hopeful, saying, It runs in my mind

that this is one By-ends of Fair-speech; and if it be he, we have as very a knave in our

company as dwelleth in all these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask him; methinks he should

not be ashamed of his name. So Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk

as if you knew something more than all the world doth, and, if I take not my mark amiss, I

deem I have half a guess of you. Is not your name Mr. By-ends of Fair-speech?

By-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 I did to give them an occasion to give me

this name was, that I had always the luck to jump in my judgment with the present way of

the times, whatever it was, and my chance was to get thereby; but if things are thus cast

upon me, let me count them a blessing; but let not the malicious load me therefore with

reproach.

Chr. I thought, indeed, that you were the man that I heard of; and, to tell you what I

think, I fear this name belongs to you more properly than you are willing we should think

it doth.

By-ends. Well, if you will thus imagine, I cannot help it; you shall find me a fair

company-keeper, if you will still admit me your associate.

Chr. If you will go with us, you must go against wind and tide, the which, I perceive, is

against your opinion; you must also own Religion in his rags, as well as when in his

silver slippers; and stand by him, too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh

the streets with applause.

By-ends. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith; leave me to my liberty, and let

58

me go with you.

Chr. Not a step farther unless you will do in what I propound as we.

Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old principles, since they are harmless and

profitable. If I may not go with you, I must do as I did before you overtook me, even go

by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my company.

Now, I saw in my dream that Christian and Hopeful forsook him, and kept their distance

before him; but one of them, looking back, saw three men following Mr. By-ends, and

behold, as they came up with him, he made them a very low congé; and they also gave

him a compliment. The men's names were Mr. Hold-the-world, Mr. Money-love, and Mr.

Save-all; men that Mr. By-ends had formerly been acquainted with; for in their minority

they were schoolfellows, and were taught by one Mr. Gripe-man, a schoolmaster in Lovegain,

which is a market-town in the county of Coveting, in the north. This schoolmaster

taught them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, 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. Byends,

Who are they upon the road before us? (for Christian and Hopeful were yet within

view).

By-ends. They are a couple of far-countrymen, that, after their mode, are going on

pilgrimage.

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 pilgrimage.

By-ends. We are so, indeed; but the men before us are so rigid, and love so much their

own notions, and do also so lightly esteem the opinions of others, that let a man be never

so Godly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, they thrust him quite out of their

company.

Save-all. That is bad, but we read of some that are righteous overmuch; and such men's

rigidness prevails with them to judge and condemn all but themselves. But, I pray, what,

and how many, were the things wherein you differed?

By-ends. Why, they, after their headstrong manner, 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; but I am for Religion

in what, and so far as, the times and my safety will bear it. They are for Religion when in

rags and contempt; but I am for him when he walks in his golden slippers, in the sunshine,

and with applause.

Hold-the-world. Ay, and hold you there still, good Mr. By-ends; for, for my part, I can

count him but a fool, that, having the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise as to

lose it. Let us be wise as serpents; it is best to make hay when the sun shines; you see how

the bee lieth still all winter and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure.

God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine; if they be such fools to go through

the first, yet let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For my part, I like that

religion best that will stand with the security of God's good blessings unto us; for who can

imagine, that is ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed upon us the good things of

this life, but that He would have us keep them for His sake? Abraham and Solomon grew

rich in religion. And Job says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust. But he must not

be such as the men before us, if they be as you have described them.

59

Save-all. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and therefore there needs no more

words about it.

Money-love. No, there needs no more words about this matter, indeed; for he that

believes neither Scripture nor reason (and you see we have both on our side - Wrong!),

neither knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety.

By-ends. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage; and for our better

diversion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question:-

Suppose a man, a minister or a tradesman, etc., should have an advantage lie before him

to get the good blessings of this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them

except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordinarily zealous in some points of

religion that he meddled not with before; may he not use these means to attain his end,

and yet be a right honest man?

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, possessed but of a very

small benefice, and has in his eye a greater, more fat and plump by far; he has also now an

opportunity of getting of it, yet so as by being more studious, by preaching more

frequently and zealously, and, because the temper of the people requires it, by altering of

some of his principles; for my part, I see no reason but a man may do this (provided he

has a call), ay, and more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. For why --

1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful (this cannot be contradicted), since it is set

before him by Providence; so then he may get it, if he can, making no question for

conscience' sake.

2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more studious, a more zealous

preacher, etc., and so makes him a better man; yea, makes him better improve his parts,

which is according to the mind of God.

3. Now, as for his complying with the temper of his people by dissenting, to serve them,

some of his principles, this argueth -- (1) That he is of a self-denying, temper; (2) of a

sweet and winning deportment; and so (3) more fit for the ministerial function.

4. I conclude, then, that a minister that changes a small for a great, should not, for so

doing, be judged as covetous; but rather, since he has improved in his parts and industry

thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, and the opportunity put into his hand to

do good.

And now to the second part of the question, which concerns the tradesman you

mentioned. Suppose such an one to have but a poor employ in the world, but, by

becoming religious, he may mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, or more and far

better customers to his shop; for my part, I see no reason but 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.

This answer, thus made by this Mr. Money-love to Mr. By-ends' question, was highly

applauded by them all; wherefore they concluded, upon the whole, that it was most

wholesome and advantageous. And because, as they thought, no man was able to

60

contradict it, and because Christian and Hopeful were yet within call, they jointly agreed

to assault them with the question as soon as they overtook them; and the rather because

they had opposed Mr. By-ends. So they called after them, and they stopped, and stood still

till they came up to them; but they concluded, as they went, that not Mr. By-ends, but old

Mr. Hold-the-world, should propound the question to them, because, as they supposed,

their answer to him would be without the remainder of that heat that was kindled betwixt

Mr. By-ends and them at their parting a little before.

So they came up to each other, and after a short salutation, Mr. Hold-the-world

propounded the question to Christian and his fellow, and bid them to answer it if they

could.

Chr. Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may answer ten thousand such

questions. For if it be unlawful to follow Christ for loaves (as it is in John 6:26), how

much more abominable is it to make of him and religion a stalking-horse, to get and enjoy

the world? Nor do we find any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and witches, that

are of this opinion.

1. Heathens; for when Hamor and Shechem had a mind to the daughter and cattle of

Jacob, and saw that there was no ways for them to come at them, but by becoming

circumcised, they say to their companions, “If every male of us be circumcised, as they

are circumcised, shall not their cattle, and their substance, and every beast of theirs, be

ours?” Their daughter and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their

religion the stalking-horse they made use of to come at them. Read the whole story (Gen.

34:20-23).

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 (Matt. 23:14; Luke 20:46-47).

3. Judas the devil was also of this religion; he was religious for the bag, that he might be

possessed of what was therein; but he was lost, cast away, and the very son of perdition.

4. Simon the wizard was of this religion, too; for he would have had the Holy Spirit, that

he might have got money therewith; and his sentence from Peter's mouth was according

(Acts 8:19-22).

5. Neither will it out of my mind, but that that man that takes up religion for the world

will throw away religion for the world; for so surely as Judas resigned the world in

becoming religious, so surely did he also sell religion and his Master for the same. To

answer the question, therefore, affirmatively, as I perceive you have done, and to accept

of, as authentic, such answer, is both heathenism, hypocritical, and devilish; and your

reward will be according to your works. Then they stood staring one upon another, but

had not wherewith to answer Christian. Hopeful also approved of the soundness of

Christian's answer; so there was also a great silence among them. Mr. By-ends and his

company also staggered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful might outgo them.

Then said Christian to his fellow, If these men cannot stand before the sentence of men,

what will they do with the Sentence of God? And if they are mute when dealt with by

vessels of clay, what will they do when they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring

fire?

Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and went till they came at a delicate

plain called Ease, where they went with much content; but that plain was but narrow, so

they were quickly got over it. Now at the farther side of that plain was a little hill called

Lucre, and in that hill a silver mine, which some of them that had formerly gone that way,

61

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 road, over against the silver mine, stood

Demas (gentleman-like) to call to passengers to come and see; who said to Christian and

his fellow, Ho! turn aside hither, and I will show you a thing.

Chr. What thing so deserving as to turn us out of The Way to see it?

Demas. Here is a silver mine, and some digging in it for treasure. If you will come, with

a little pains you may richly provide for yourselves.

Hope. Then said Hopeful, Let us go see.

Chr. Not I, said Christian, I have heard of this place before now; and how many 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. 14:8).

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

Ways (Sura 2:186; 7:155) of the Lord of this way, and hast been already condemned for

thine own turning aside by one of His Majesty's judges (2Tim 4:10); and why seekest thou

to bring us into the like condemnation? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the King

will certainly hear thereof, and will there put us to shame, where we would stand with

boldness before Him.

Demas cried again, that he also was one of their fraternity; and that if they would tarry a

little, he also himself would walk with them.

Chr. Then said Christian, What is thy name? Is it not the same by the which I have

called thee?

Demas. Yes, my name is Demas; I am the son of Abraham.

Chr. I know you; Gehazi was your great-grandfather, and Judas your father; and you

have trod in their steps (2kings 5:20; Matt. 26:14, 15; 27:1-5). It is but a devilish prank

that thou usest; thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no better reward.

Assure thyself that when we come to the King, we will do Him word of this thy

behaviour. Thus they went their way.

By this time By-ends and his companions were come again within sight, and they, at the

first beck, went over to Demas. Now, whether they fell into the pit by looking over the

brink thereof, or whether they went down to dig, or whether they were smothered in the

bottom by the damps that commonly arise, of these things I am not certain; but this I

observed, that they never were seen again in The Way. 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

62

Take up in this world, and no further go.

Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, the pilgrims came to a place where

stood an old monument, hard by the highway side, at the sight of which they were both

concerned, because of the strangeness of the form thereof; for it seemed to them as if it

had been a woman transformed into the shape of a pillar; here, therefore, they stood

looking, and looking upon it, but could not for a time tell what they should make thereof.

At last Hopeful espied written above the head thereof a writing in an unusual hand; but

he, being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) to see if he could pick out

the meaning; so he came, and after a little laying of letters together, he found the same to

be this, “Remember Lot's wife.” So he read it to his fellow; after which they both

concluded that that was the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was turned for her looking

back with a covetous heart, when she was going from Sodom for safety (Gen. 19:26),

which sudden and amazing sight gave them occasion of this discourse.

Chr. Ah, my brother! this is a seasonable sight; it came opportunely to us after the

invitation which Demas gave us to come over and view the hill Lucre; and had we gone

over as he desired us, and as thou wast inclining to do, my brother, we had, for aught I

know, been made ourselves, like this woman, a spectacle for those that shall come after to

behold.

Hope. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am not now as

Lot's wife; for wherein was the difference betwixt her sin and mine? She only looked

back; and I had a desire to go see. Let grace be adored, and let me be ashamed that ever

such a thing should be in mine heart.

Chr. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help for time to come. This woman

escaped one judgment, for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom; yet she was destroyed

by another, as we see she is turned into a pillar of salt.

Hope. True, and she may be to us both caution and 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. 26:9,

10). But, above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand

so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman, but for looking

behind her after (for we read not that she stepped one foot out of The Way), was

turned into a pillar of salt; especially since the judgment which overtook her did

make her an example, within sight of where they are; for they cannot choose but see

her, did they but lift up their eyes.

Chr. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that their hearts are grown desperate

in the case; and I cannot tell who to compare them to so fitly, as to them that pick pockets

in the presence of the judge, or that will cut purses under the gallows. It is said of the men

of Sodom, that they were sinners exceedingly, because they were sinners before the Lord,

that is, in His eyesight, and notwithstanding the kindnesses that He had showed them

(Gen. 13:10-13); for the land of Sodom was now like the garden of Eden heretofore. This,

therefore, provoked Him the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as the fire of

the Lord out of heaven could make it. And it is most rationally to be concluded, that such,

even such as these are, that shall sin in the sight, yea, and that, too, in despite of such

examples that are set continually before them, to caution them to the contrary, must be

partakers of severest judgments.

Hope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth; but what a mercy is it, that neither thou, but

63

especially I, am not made myself this example! This ministereth occasion to us to thank

God, to fear before Him, and always to remember Lot's wife.

I saw, then, that they went on their way to a pleasant river, which David the king called

“the river of God,” but John, “the river of the Water of Life” (Ps. 65:9; Ezek. 47:1-9; Rev.

22:1 / King of kings’ Bible, Rev. 30:1). Now their way lay just upon the bank of the river;

here, therefore, Christian and his companion walked with great delight; they drank also of

the water of the river, which was pleasant, and enlivening to their weary spirits: besides,

on the banks of this river, on either side, were green trees, that bore all manner of fruit;

and the leaves of the trees (leaves [pages] of God’s Books) were good for medicine; with

the fruit of these trees they were also much delighted; and the leaves they ate to prevent

surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood by travels. On

either side of the river was also a meadow, curiously beautified with lilies; and it was

green all the year long. In this meadow they lay down and slept; for here they might lie

down safely. When they awoke, they gathered again of the fruit of the trees, and drank

again of the water of the river, and then lay down again to sleep (Ps. 23:2; Isa. 14:30).

Thus they did several days and nights. Then they sang –

Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide,

To comfort pilgrims by the highway side.

The meadows green, beside their fragrant smell,

Yield dainties for them; and he that can tell

What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield,

Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field.

So when they were disposed to go on (for they were not, as yet, at their journey's end),

they ate and drank, and departed.

Now, I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed far, but the river and The Way

for a time parted; at which they were not a little sorry; yet they durst not go out of The

Way. Now The Way from the river was rough, and their feet tender, by reason of their

travels; so the souls of the pilgrims were “much discouraged because of The Way”

(Num. 21:4). Wherefore, still as they went on, they wished for better way*. Now, a little

before them there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over into it;

and that meadow is called By-path Meadow. Then said Christian to his fellow, If this

meadow lieth along by our wayside, let us go over into it. Then he went to the stile to see,

and behold a path lay along by The Way, on the other side of the fence. It is according to

my wish, said Christian. Here is the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let us go

over.

*an easy path.

Hope. But how if this path should lead us out of The Way?

Chr. That is not like, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by* the wayside? So

Hopeful, being persuaded by his fellow, went after him over the stile. When they were

gone over, and were got into the path, they found it very easy for their feet**; and withal,

they, looking before them, espied a man walking as they did (and his name was Vainconfidence);

so they called after him, and asked him whither that way led. He said, To the

Celestial Gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so? By this you may see we are

right. So they followed, and he went before them. But, behold, the night came on, and it

grew very dark; so that they that were behind lost the sight of him that went before.

64

*by - not in. **Their human feet of clay.

He, therefore, that went before (Vain-confidence by name), not seeing the way before

him, fell into a deep pit (Isa. 9:16; 38:18), which was on purpose there made by the prince

of those grounds to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and was dashed in pieces with his

fall.

Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they called to know the matter; but

there was none to answer, only they heard a groaning. Then said Hopeful, where are we

now? Then was his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had led him out of The Way; and

now it began to rain, and thunder, and lighten in a very dreadful manner; and the water

rose amain.

Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, Oh, that I had kept on my way!

Chr. Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of The Way?

Hope. I was afraid on it at the very first, and therefore gave you that gentle caution. I

would have spoken plainer, but that you are older than I.

Chr. Good brother, be not offended; I am sorry I have brought thee out of The Way, and

that I have put thee into such imminent danger; pray, my brother, forgive me; I did not do

it of an evil intent.*

*The road to hell-fire is paved with good intentions.

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” (Jer. 31:21). But by this time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of which the

way of going back was very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of The

Way, when we are in, than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go back;

but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in their going back they had like to have

been drowned nine or ten times.

Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile that night.

Wherefore, at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down there until the daybreak;

but, being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was, not far from the place where they lay,

a castle called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair; and it was in his

grounds they now were sleeping; wherefore he, getting up in the morning early, and

walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful asleep (1Thess. 5:6) in

his grounds. Then, with a grim and surly voice, he bid them awake; and asked them

whence they were, and what they did in his grounds. They told him they were pilgrims,

and that they had lost their way. Then said the Giant, You have this night trespassed on

me, by trampling in, and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along with me.

So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. They also had but little to

say, for they knew themselves in a fault. The Giant, therefore, drove them from him, and

put them into his castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spirits of

these two men (Ps. 88:18). Here, then, they lay fromWednesday morning till Saturday

65

night, without one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or light, or any to ask how they did; they

were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far from friends* and acquaintance. Now in

this place Christian had double sorrow, because it was through his unadvised counsel that

they were brought into this distress.

*Felt pushed out and isolated because they took an easy way.

The pilgrims now, to gratify the flesh,

Will seek its ease; but oh! how they afresh

Do thereby plunge themselves new griefs into!

Who seek to please the flesh, themselves undo.

Now, Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence. So when he was gone to

bed, he told his wife what he had done: to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners and

cast them into his dungeon for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he

had best to do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, and

whither they were bound; and he told her. Then she counselled him that when he arose in

the morning he should beat them without mercy. So, when he arose, he getteth him a

grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to

rating of them as if they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste. Then

he fell upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were not able to help

themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves them,

there to condole their misery and to mourn under their distress. So, all that day they

spent the time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, she, talking

with her husband about them further, and understanding they were yet alive, did advise

him to counsel them to make away with themselves. So when morning was come, he goes

to them in a surly manner as before, and perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes

that he had given them the day before, he told them that since they were never like to

come out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end of themselves,

either with knife, halter, or poison; for why, said he, should you choose life, seeing it is

attended with so much bitterness?* But they desired him to let them go. With that he

looked ugly upon them, and, rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them himself

but that he fell into one of his fits (for he sometimes, in sunshiny weather, fell into fits),

and lost for a time the use of his hand; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before, to

consider what to do. Then did the prisoners consult between themselves, whether it was

best to take his counsel or no; and thus they began to discourse:-

*The “Self” life.

Chr. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do? The life that we now live is miserable.

For my part, I know not whether is best to live thus or to die out of hand. “My soul

chooseth strangling and death rather than my life,” and the grave is more easy for me than

this dungeon (Job 7:15). Shall we be ruled by the Giant?

Hope. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death would be far more welcome

to me than thus for ever to abide; but yet let us consider: the Lord of the country to which

we are going hath said, “Thou shalt do no murder”: no, not to another man's person; much

more then are we forbidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves. Besides, he that kills

another can but commit murder upon his body; but for one to kill himself, is to kill body

and soul at once. And, moreover, my brother, thou talkest of ease in the grave; but hast

thou forgotten the hell, whither for certain the murderers go? For “no murderer hath

66

eternal life,” etc. And let us consider, again, that all The Law is not in the hand of Giant

Despair. Others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him as well as we, and yet

have escaped out of his hand. Who knows but the God, that made the world, may cause

that Giant Despair may die? or that, at some time or other, he may forget to lock us in? or

that he may, in a short time, have another of his fits before us, and may lose the use of his

limbs? and if ever that should come to pass again, for my part I am resolved to pluck up

the heart of a man, and to try my utmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did

not try to do it before; but, however, my brother, let us be patient, and endure a while. The

time may come that may give us a happy release; but let us not be our own murderers.

With these words, Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of his brother; so they

continued together (in the dark) that day, in their sad and doleful condition.

Well, towards evening, the Giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see if his

prisoners had taken his counsel; but when he came there he found them alive; and truly,

alive was all; for now, what for want of bread and water, and by reason of the wounds

they received when he beat them, they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found

them alive; at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them that, seeing they had

disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had never been born.

At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into a swoon; but, coming a

little to himself again, they renewed their discourse about the Giant's counsel; and

whether yet they had best to take it or no. Now, Christian again seemed to be for doing

it, but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth:-

Hope. My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast been

heretofore? Apollyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou didst hear, or see, or

feel in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast

thou already gone through! And art thou now nothing but 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 light. But let us exercise a little more patience;

remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain,

nor cage, nor yet of bloody death. Wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame that

becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as well as we can.

Now, night being come again, and the Giant and his wife being in bed, she asked him

concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel. To which he replied, They are

sturdy rogues, they choose rather to bear all hardships than to make away 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

them.

So when the morning was come, the Giant goes to them again, and takes them into the

castle-yard, and shows them, as his wife had bidden him. These, said he, were pilgrims as

you are, once, and they trespassed in my grounds, as you have done; and when I thought

fit, I tore them in 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. Now, when night was come, and when Mrs.

Diffidence and her husband the Giant were got to bed, they began to renew their discourse

of their prisoners; and withal the old Giant wondered that he could neither by his blows

nor his counsel bring them to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that

67

they live in hope that some will come to relieve them, or that they have picklocks about

them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear? said the

Giant; I will, therefore, search them in the morning.

Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in prayer till

almost break of day.

Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, brake out in this

passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I

may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in my bosom called Promise, that will, I am

persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That’s good news,

good brother; pluck it out of thy bosom, and try.

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 castleyard,

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 very hard, yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open

the gate to make their escape with speed, but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking

that it waked Giant Despair, who, hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to

fail, for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them. Then they

went on, and came to the King's highway again, and so were safe, because they were out

of his jurisdiction.

Now, when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with themselves what

they should do at that stile, to prevent those that should come after from falling into the

hands of Giant Despair. So they consented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the

side thereof this sentence: “Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by

Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of the Celestial Country, and seeks to destroy his

holy pilgrims.” Many, therefore, that followed after, read what was written, and escaped

the danger. This done, they sang as follows:-

Out of The Way we went, and then we found

What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground:

And let them that come after have a care,

Lest heedlessness make them, as we, to fare;

Lest they for trespassing his prisoners are,

Whose castle's Doubting, and whose name's Despair.

They went then till they came to the Delectable Mountains, which mountains belong to

the Lord of that hill of which we have spoken before; so they went up to the mountains, to

behold the gardens and orchards, the vineyards and fountains of water; where also they

drank and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the vineyards. Now, there were on the

tops of these mountains Shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the highway

side. The pilgrims therefore went to them, and leaning upon their staves (as is common

with weary pilgrims, when they stand to talk with any by The Way), they asked, Whose

Delectable Mountains are these, and whose be the sheep that feed upon them?

Mountains delectable they now ascend,

Where Shepherds be, which to them do commend

Alluring things, and things that cautious are;

68

Pilgrims are steady kept by faith and fear.

Shep. These mountains are Immanuel's Land, and they are within sight of his city; and

the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for them (John 10:11).

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; but “transgressors shall fall therein”

(Hos. 14:9).

Chr. Is there, in this place, any relief for pilgrims that are weary and faint in The Way?

Shep. The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge not to be “forgetful to

entertain strangers” (Heb. 13:2); therefore the good of the place is before you.

I saw also in my dream, that when the Shepherds perceived that they were wayfaring

men, they also put questions to them, to which they made answer as in other places; as,

Whence came you? and, How got you into The Way? and, By what means have you so

persevered therein? For but few of them that begin to come hither do show their face on

these mountains (Matt. 20:16). But when the Shepherds heard their answers, being

pleased therewith, they looked very lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome to the

Delectable Mountains.

The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and

Sincere, took them by the hand, and had them to their tents, and made them partake of

that which was ready at present. They said, moreover, We would that you should stay here

awhile to be acquainted with us; and yet more to solace yourselves with the good of these

Delectable Mountains. They then told them that they were content to stay; so they went to

their rest that night, because it was very late.

Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the Shepherds called up Christian and

Hopeful to walk with them upon the mountains; so they went forth with them, and walked

a while, having a pleasant prospect on every side. Then said the Shepherds one to another,

Shall we show these pilgrims some wonders? So, when they had concluded to do it, they

had them first to the top of a hill called Error, which was very steep on the farthest side,

and bid them look down to the bottom. So Christian and Hopeful looked down, and saw at

the bottom several men dashed all to pieces by a fall that they had 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 Hymenaeus and Philetus, as concerning the faith of the

resurrection of the body? (2Tim. 2:17, 18). They answered, Yes. Then said the Shepherds,

Those that you see lie dashed in pieces at the bottom of this mountain are they; and they

have continued to this day unburied, as you see, for an example to others to take heed how

they clamber too high, or how they come too near the brink of this mountain.

Then I saw that they had them to the top of another mountain, and the name of that is

Caution, and bid them look afar off; which, when they did, they perceived, as they

thought, several men walking up and down among the tombs that were there; and they

perceived that the men were blind, because they stumbled sometimes upon the tombs, and

because they could not get out from among them. Then said Christian, What means this?

The Shepherds then answered, Did you not see a little below these mountains a stile,

that led into a meadow, on the left hand of this way? They answered, Yes. Then said the

69

Shepherds, From that stile there goes a path that leads directly to Doubting Castle, which

is kept by Giant Despair, and these men, pointing to them among the tombs, came once on

pilgrimage, as you do now, even till they came to that same stile; and because The Right

Way (Sura 2:186) 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 awhile been kept in the dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes*, and led them

among those tombs, where he has left them to wander to this very day, that the saying of

the wise man might be fulfilled, “The man that wandereth out of The Way of

Understanding shall remain in the congregation of the dead” (Prov. 21:16). Then

Christian and Hopeful looked upon one another, with tears gushing out, but yet said

nothing to the Shepherds.

*Doubting and despair make you spiritually blind.

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 brimstone. Then said Christian, What means this? The

Shepherds told them, This is a by-way to hell, a way that hypocrites go in at; namely,

such as sell their birthright, with Esau; such as sell their master*, with Judas; such as

blaspheme the gospel, with Alexander; and that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and

Sapphira his wife.

*for a few pennies.

Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, I perceive that these had on them, even every one,

a show of pilgrimage, as we have now; had they not?

Shep. Yes, and held it a long time, too.

Hope. How far might they go on in pilgrimage in their day, since they, notwithstanding,

were thus miserably cast away?

Shep. Some farther, and some not so far as these mountains.

Then said the pilgrims one to another, We have need to cry to the Strong for strength.

Shep. Ay, and you will have need to use it when you have it, too.

By this time the pilgrims had a desire to go forward, and the Shepherds a desire they

should; so they walked together towards the end of the mountains. Then said the

Shepherds one to another, Let us here show to the pilgrims the gates of the Celestial City,

if they have skill to look through our perspective glass. The pilgrims then lovingly

accepted the motion; so they had them to the top of a high hill, called Clear, and gave

them their glass to look.

Then they essayed to look; but the remembrance of that last thing that the Shepherds

had shown them made their hands shake, by means of which impediment they could not

look steadily through the glass; yet they thought they saw something like the gate, and

also some of the glory of the place. Then they went away, and sang this song --

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.

When they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds gave them a note of The Way.

70

Another of them bid them beware of the Flatterer. The third bid them take heed that they

sleep not upon the Enchanted Ground. And the fourth bid them God-speed. So I awoke

from my dream.

And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two pilgrims going down the

mountains along the highway towards the city. Now, a little below these mountains, on

the left hand, lieth the country of Conceit; from which country there comes into The Way

in which the pilgrims walked a little crooked lane. Here, therefore, they met with a very

brisk lad, that came out of that country; and his name was Ignorance. So Christian asked

him from what parts he came, and whither he was going?

Ignor. Sir, I was born in the country that lieth off there a little on the left hand, and I am

going to the Celestial City.

Chr. But how do you think to get in at the gate, for you may find some difficulty there?

Ignor. As other 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; I

pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, and have left my country for whither I am going.

Chr. But thou camest not in at the wicket-gate that is at the head of this way; thou

camest in hither through that same crooked lane; and therefore I fear, however thou

mayest think of thyself, when the reckoning-day shall come, thou wilt have laid to thy

charge that thou art a thief and a robber, instead of getting admittance into the city.

Ignor. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, I know you not; be content to follow the

religion of your country, and I will follow the religion of mine. I hope all will be well.

And as for the gate that you talk of, all the world knows that that is a great way off of our

country. I cannot think that any man in all our parts doth so much as know The Way to it,

nor need they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a fine, pleasant,

green lane, that comes down from our country, the next way into The Way.

When Christian saw that the man was “wise in his own conceit,” he said to Hopeful,

whisperingly, “There is more hope of a fool than of him” (Prov. 26:12). And said,

moreover, “When he that is a fool walketh by The Way, his wisdom faileth him, and he

saith to every one that he is a fool” (Eccles. 10:3). What! shall we talk further with him, or

outgo him at present, and so leave him to think of what he hath heard already, and then

stop again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any good to him? Then

said Hopeful --

Let Ignorance a little while now muse

On what is said, and let him not refuse

Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain

Still ignorant of what's the chiefest gain.

God saith, those that no understanding have,

Although He made them, them He will not save.

Hope. He further added, It is not good, I think, to say all to him at once; let us pass him

by, if you will, and talk to him anon, even as he is able to bear it.

So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. Now when they had passed him a

little way, they entered into a very dark lane, where they met a man whom seven devils

had bound with seven strong cords, and were carrying of him back to the door that they

71

saw in the side of the hill (Prov. 5:22; Matt. 12:45). Now good Christian began to

tremble, and so did Hopeful his companion; yet as the devils led away the man, Christian

looked to see if he knew him; and he thought it might be one Turn-away, that dwelt in the

town of Apostasy. But he did not perfectly see his face, for he did hang his head like a

thief that is found. But being gone past, Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his back

a paper with this inscription, “Wanton professor and damnable apostate.”

Then said Christian to his fellow, Now I call to remembrance that which was told me of

a thing that happened to a good man hereabout. The name of the man was Little-faith;

but a good man, and he dwelt in the town of Sincere. The thing was this: At the entering

in at this passage there comes down from Broadway-gate a lane called Dead Man's Lane,

so called because of the murders that are commonly done there; and this Little-faith,

going on pilgrimage as we do now, chanced to sit down there, and slept. Now there

happened, at that time, to come down the lane, from Broadway-gate, three sturdy rogues,

and their names were Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt (three brothers); and they, espying

Little-faith where he was, came galloping up with speed. Now the good man was just

awaked from his sleep, and was getting up to go on his journey. So they came up all to

him, and with threatening language bid him stand. At this Little-faith looked as white as a

sheet, and had neither power to fight nor fly. Then said Faint-heart, Deliver thy purse. But

he making no haste to do it (for he was loth to lose his money), Mistrust ran up to him,

and thrusting his hand into his pocket, pulled out thence a bag of silver. Then he cried out,

Thieves! Thieves! With that Guilt, with a great club that was in his hand, struck Littlefaith

on the head, and with that blow felled him flat to the ground, where he lay bleeding

as one that would bleed to death. All this while the thieves stood by. But at last, they

hearing that some were upon the road, and fearing lest it should be one Great-grace, that

dwells in the city of Good-confidence, they betook themselves to their heels, and left this

good man to shift for himself. Now, after a while, Little-faith came to himself, and getting

up made shift to scrabble on his way. This was the story.

Hope. But did they take from him all that ever he had?

Chr. No; the place where his jewels were they never ransacked, so those he kept still.

But, as I was told, the good man was much afflicted for his loss, for the thieves got most

of his spending money. That which they got not (as I said) were jewels; also, he had a

little odd money left, but scarce enough to bring him to his journey's end (1Pet. 4:18);

nay, if I was not misinformed, he was forced to beg as he went, to keep himself alive; for

his jewels he might not sell. But beg, and do what he could, he went (as we say) with

many a hungry belly the most part of the rest of The Way.

Hope. But is it not a wonder they got not from him his certificate, by which he was to

receive his admittance at the Celestial Gate?

Chr. It is a wonder; but they got not that, though they missed it not through any good

cunning of his; for he, being dismayed with their coming upon him, had neither power nor

skill to hide anything; so it was more by good providence than by his endeavour, that they

missed of that good thing (2Tim. 1:14).

Hope. But it must needs be a comfort to him that they got not his jewels from him.

Chr. It might have been great comfort to him, had he used it as he should; but they that

told me the story said, that he made but little use of it all the rest of The Way, and that

because of the dismay that he had in the taking away his money; indeed, he forgot it a

great part of the rest of his journey; and besides, when at any time it came into his mind,

and he began to be comforted therewith, then would fresh thoughts of his loss come

72

again upon him, and those thoughts would swallow up all (2Pet. 2:9).

Hope. Alas! poor man. This could not but be a great grief to him.

Chr. Grief! ay, a grief indeed! Would it not have been so to any of us, had we been used

as he, to be robbed, and wounded too, and that in a strange place, as he was? 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.

Hope. But it is a wonder that his necessity did not put him upon selling or pawning

some of his jewels, that he might have wherewith to relieve himself on his journey.

Chr. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the shell to this very day; for what

should he pawn them, or to whom should he sell them? In all that country where he was

robbed, his jewels were not accounted of; nor did he want that relief which could from

thence be administered to him. Besides, had his jewels been missing at the gate of the

Celestial City, he had (and that he knew well enough) been excluded from an inheritance

there; and that would have been worse to him than the appearance and villainy of ten

thousand thieves.

Hope. Why art thou so tart, my brother? Esau sold his birthright, and that for a mess of

pottage (Heb. 12:16), and that birthright was his greatest jewel; and if he, why might not

Little-faith do so to?

Chr. Esau did sell his birthright indeed, and so do many besides, and by so doing

exclude themselves from the chief blessing, as also that caitiff did; but you must put a

difference betwixt Esau and Little-faith, and also betwixt their estates. Esau's birthright

was typical, but Little-faith's jewels were not so; Esau's belly was his god, but Littlefaith's

belly was not so; Esau's want lay in his fleshly appetite, Little-faith's did not so.

Besides, Esau could see no further than to the fulfilling of his lusts: “Behold, I am at

the point to die, (said he), and what profit shall this birthright do me?” (Gen. 25:32). But

Little-faith, though it was his lot to have but a little faith, was by his little faith kept from

such extravagances, and made to see and prize his jewels more than to sell them, as Esau

did his birthright. You read not anywhere that Esau had faith, no, not so much as a little;

therefore no marvel if, where the flesh only bears sway (as it will in that man where no

faith is to resist), if he sells his 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 (Jer. 2:24). When their minds are set upon their lusts, they will have them

whatever they cost. But Little-faith was of another temper; his mind was on things

divine; his livelihood was upon things that were spiritual and from above; therefore, to

what end should he that is of such a temper sell his jewels (had there been any that would

have bought them), to fill his mind with empty things? Will a man give a penny to fill his

belly with hay? or, Can you persuade the turtle-dove to live upon carrion, like the crow?

Though faithless ones can, for carnal lusts, pawn or mortgage, or sell what they have,

and themselves outright to boot; yet they that have faith, saving faith, though but a little

of it, cannot do so. Here, therefore, my brother, is thy mistake.

Hope. I acknowledge it; but yet your severe reflection had almost made me angry.

Chr. Why, I did but compare thee to some of the birds that are of the brisker sort, who

will run to and fro in untrodden paths, with the shell upon their heads; but pass by that,

and consider the matter under debate, and all shall be well betwixt thee and me.

73

Hope. But, Christian, these three fellows, I am persuaded in my heart, are but a

company of cowards; would they have run else, think you, as they did, at the noise of

one that was coming on the road? Why did not Little-faith pluck up a greater heart? He

might, methinks, have stood one brush with them, and have yielded when there had been

no remedy.

Chr. That they are cowards, many have said, but few have found it so in the time of

trial. As for a great heart, Little-faith had none; and I perceive by thee, my brother,

hadst thou been the man concerned, thou art but for a brush, and then to yield. And,

verily, since this is the height of thy stomach, now they are at a distance from us, should

they appear to thee as they did to him, they might put thee to second thoughts.

But consider again, they are but journeymen thieves; they serve under the king of the

bottomless pit, who, if need be, will come in to their aid himself, and his voice is as the

roaring of a lion (1Pet. 5:8). I myself have been engaged as this Little-faith was, and I

found it a terrible thing. These three villains set upon me, and I beginning, like a

Christian, to resist, they gave but a call, and in came their master. I would, as the saying

is, have given my life for a penny; but that, as God would have it, I was clothed with

armour of proof. Ay, and yet, though I was so harnessed, I found it hard work to quit

myself like a man. No man can tell what in that combat attends us, but he that hath been

in the battle himself.

Hope. Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose that one Great-grace was

in The Way.

Chr. True, they have often fled, both they and their master, when Great-grace hath but

appeared; and no marvel, for he is the King's champion. But, I trow, you will put some

difference betwixt Little-faith and the King's champion. All the King's subjects are not

his champions (Israel - Gen. 32:28), nor can they, when tried, do such feats of war as he.

Is it meet to think that a little child should handle Goliath as David did? or that there

should be the strength of an ox in a wren? Some are strong, some are weak; some have

great faith, some have little. This man was one of the weak, and therefore he went to the

wall.

Hope. I would it had been Great-grace for their sakes.

Chr. If it had been, he might have had his hands full; for I must tell you, that though

Great-grace is excellent good at his weapons, and has, and can, so long as he keeps them

at sword's point, do well enough with them; yet, if they get within him, even Faint-heart,

Mistrust, or the other, it shall go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when a man is

down, you know, what can he do?

Whoso looks well upon Great-grace's face will see those scars and cuts there, that shall

easily give demonstration of what I say. Yea, once I heard that he should say (and that

when he was in the combat), “We despaired even of life.” How did these sturdy rogues

and their fellows make David groan, mourn, and roar! Yea, Heman, and Hezekiah too,

though champions in their day, were forced to bestir them when by these assaulted; and

yet, notwithstanding, they had their coats soundly brushed by them. Peter, upon a time,

would go try what he could do; but though some do say of him that he is the prince of the

apostles, they handled him so that they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl.

Besides, their king is at their whistle. He is never out of hearing; and if at any time they

be put to the worst, he, if possible, comes in to help them; and of him it is said, “The

sword of him that layeth at him cannot hold: the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He

esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood. The arrow cannot make him flee:

74

slingstones are turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble: he laugheth at

the shaking of a spear” (Job 41:26-29) (“Your weapons; you will not need them.” - Yoda).

What can a man do in this case? It is true, if a man could, at every turn, have Job's horse,

and had skill and courage to ride him, he might do notable things: For his neck is clothed

with thunder; he will not be “afraid as a grasshopper; the glory of his nostrils is terrible.

He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: he goeth on to meet the armed men.

He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword. The

quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He swalloweth the ground

with fierceness and rage; neither believeth he that it is the sound of the trumpet. He saith

among the trumpets, Ha, ha; and he smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder of the

captains, and the shouting” (Job 39:19-25).

But, for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire to meet with an enemy; nor

vaunt as if we could do better, when we hear of others that they have been foiled; nor be

tickled at the thoughts of our own manhood; for such commonly come by the worst

when tried. Witness Peter, of whom I made mention before. He would swagger, ay, he

would; he would, as his vain mind prompted him to say, do better, and stand more for his

Master than all men; but who was so foiled, and run down by these villains, as he?

When, therefore, we hear that such robberies are done on the King's highway, two

things become us to do --

1. To go out harnessed, and to be sure to take a shield with us; for it was for want of

that, that he that laid so lustily at Leviathan could not make him yield; for, indeed, if that

be wanting, he fears us not at all. Therefore, he that had skill hath said, “Above all, taking

the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked”

(Eph. 6:16).

2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King a convoy; yea, that He will go with us

Himself. This made David rejoice when in the Valley of the Shadow of Death; and Moses

was rather for dying where he stood, than to go one step without his God (Exod. 33:15).

Oh, my brother, if He will but go along with us, what need we be afraid of ten thousands

that shall set themselves against us? (Ps. 3:5-8; 27:1-3). But, without Him, the proud

helpers “fall under the slain” (Isa. 10:4).

I, for my part, have been in the fray before now; and though, through the goodness of

Him that is best, I am, as you see, alive, yet I cannot boast of my manhood. Glad shall I be

if I meet with no more such brunts; though I fear we are not got beyond all danger.

However, since the lion and the bear have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also

deliver us from the next uncircumcised Philistine. Then sang Christian --

Poor Little-faith! Hast been among the thieves?

Wast robbed? Remember this, whoso believes,

And gets more faith; then shall you victors be

Over ten thousand; else scarce over three.

So they went on, and Ignorance followed. They went then till they came at a place

where they saw a way put itself into their way, and seemed withal to lie as straight as The

Way which they should go; and here they knew not which of the two to take, for both

seemed straight before them; therefore, here they stood still to consider. And as they were

thinking about The Way, behold a man, black of flesh, but covered with a very light robe,

came to them, and asked them why they stood there. They answered, they were going to

75

the Celestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. “Follow me,” said the man,

“it is thither that I am going.” So they followed him in the way that but now came into the

road, which by degrees turned, and turned them so from the city that they desired to go to,

that, in little time, their faces were turned away from it; yet they followed him. But by and

by, before they were aware, he led them both within the compass of a net, in which they

were both so entangled that they knew not what to do; and with that the white robe fell off

the black man's back. Then they saw where they were. Wherefore, there they lay crying

some time for they could not get themselves out.

Chr. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see myself in error. Did not the

Shepherds bid us beware of the flatterers? As is the saying of the wise man, so we have

found it this day, “A man that flattereth his neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet” (Prov.

29:5).

Hope. They also gave us a note of directions about The Way, for our more sure finding

thereof; but therein we have also forgotten to read, and have not kept ourselves from the

paths of the Destroyer. Here David was wiser than we; for, saith he, “Concerning the

works of men, by the word of Thy lips I have kept me from the paths of the Destroyer”

(Ps. 17:4). Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the net. At last they espied a Shining

One coming towards them with a whip of small cords in his hand. When he was come to

the place where they were, he asked them whence they came, and what they did there?

They told him that they were poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out of their way by

a black man, clothed in white, who bid us, said they, follow him, for he was going thither

too. Then said he with the whip, It is Flatterer, a false apostle, that hath transformed

himself into an angel of light (Prov. 29:5; Dan. 11:32; 2Cor. 11:13, 14). So he rent the

net, and let the men out. Then said he to them, Follow me, that I may set you in your way

again. So he led them back to The Way which they had left to follow the Flatterer. Then

he asked them, saying, Where did you lie the last night? They said, With the Shepherds,

upon the Delectable Mountains. He asked them then, if they had not of those Shepherds a

note of direction for The Way? They answered, Yes. But did you, said he, when you were

at a stand, pluck out and read your note? They answered, No. He asked them, Why? They

said, they forgot (“It is the doom of men; that they forget.” - Merlin in Excalibre). He

asked, moreover, if the Shepherds did not bid them beware of the Flatterer*? They

answered, Yes; but we did not imagine, said they, that this fine-spoken man had been he

(Rom. 16:18).

*That feeds the “Self”, your own worst enemy.

Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie down; which, when they did,

he chastised them sore, to teach them The Good Way wherein they should walk (Deut.

25:2); and as he chastised them he said, “As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be

zealous, therefore, and repent” (2Chron. 6:26, 27; Rev. 3:19). 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 (Sura 18:17), singing --

Come hither, you that walk along The Way;

See how the pilgrims fare that go astray!

They catchèd are in an entangling net,

'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget:

'Tis true they rescued were; but yet, you see,

They're scourged to boot: let this your caution be.

76

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

towards Zion, and he is coming to meet us.

Hope. I see him: let us take heed to ourselves now, lest he should prove a flatterer also.

So he drew nearer and nearer, and at last came up unto them. His name was Atheist, and

he asked them whither they were going?

Chr. We are going to Mount Zion.

Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter.

Chr. What is the meaning of your laughter?

Atheist. I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon you so tedious a

journey, and yet are like to have nothing but your travel for your pains.

Chr. Why, man, do you think we shall not be received?

Atheist. Received! There is no such place as you dream of in all this world.

Chr. But there is in the world to come.

Atheist. When I was at home in mine own country, I heard as you now affirm, and from

that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking this city this twenty years; but find no

more of it than I did the first day I set out (Eccles. 10:15; Jer. 22:12; John 3:3-7).

Chr. We have both heard and believe that there is such a place to be found.

Atheist. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not come thus far to seek; but finding

none (and yet I should, had there been such a place to be found, for I have gone to seek it

farther than you), I am going back again, and will seek to refresh myself with the things

that I then cast away, for hopes of that which, I now see, is not.

Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful his fellow, Is it true which this man hath said?

Hope. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers; remember what it hath cost us once already

for our hearkening to such kind of fellows. What! no Mount Zion! Did we not see, from

the Delectable Mountains, the gate of the city? Also, are we not now to walk by faith?

(2Cor. 5:7). Let us go on, said Hopeful, lest the man with the whip overtake us again.

You should have taught me that lesson, which I will round you in the ears withal:

“Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge”

(Prov. 19:27). I say, brother, cease to hear him, and let us “believe to the saving of the

soul” (Heb. 10:39).

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.

As for this man, I know that he is blinded by the god of this world. Let thee and I go on,

knowing that we have belief of the truth, “and no lie is of the truth” (1John 2:21).

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.

Chr. By no means, said the other; lest sleeping, we never awake more.

Hope. Why, my brother? Sleep is sweet to the labouring man; we may be refreshed if

we take a nap.

Chr. Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid us beware of the Enchanted

77

Ground? He meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping: “Therefore let us not sleep,

as do others; but let us watch and be sober” (1Thess. 5:6).

Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault; and had I been here alone, I had by sleeping

run the danger of death. I see it is true that the wise man saith, “Two are better than one”

(Eccles. 4:9). Hitherto hath thy company been my mercy, and thou shalt have a good

reward for thy labour.

Chr. Now then, said Christian, to prevent drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good

discourse.

Hope. With all my heart, said the other.

Chr. Where shall we begin?

Hope. Where God began with us. But do you begin, if you please.

Chr. I will sing you first this song --

When holy people do sleepy grow, let them come hither,

And hear how these two pilgrims talk together:

Yea, let them learn of them, in any wise,

Thus to keep ope their drowsy, slumb'ring eyes.

Holy people's fellowship, if it be managed well,

Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell.

Chr. Then Christian began and said, I will ask you a question. How came you to think

at first of doing as you do now?

Hope. Do you mean, how came I at first to look after the good of my soul?

Chr. Yes, that is my meaning.

Hope. I continued a great while in the delight of those things which were seen and sold

at our fair; things which I believe now would have, had I continued in them, still drowned

me in perdition and destruction.

Chr. What things are they?

Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. Also I delighted much in rioting,

revelling, drinking, swearing, lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-breaking, and what not, that

tended to destroy the soul. But I found at last, by hearing and considering of things that

are divine, which indeed I heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful, that was put to death

for his faith* and good living in Vanity Fair, that “the end of those things is death” (Rom.

6:21-23). And that for these things' sake “cometh the wrath of God upon the children of

disobedience” (Eph. 5:6).

*Faith is the death of “Self”.

Chr. And did you presently fall under the power of this conviction?

Hope. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil of sin, nor the damnation that

follows upon the commission of it; but 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

never thought that, by awakenings for sin, God at first begins the conversion of a sinner.

2. Sin was yet very sweet to my flesh, and I was loth (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 (the “Self”). 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me were such troublesome

78

and such heart-affrighting hours, that I could not bear, no, not so much as the

remembrance of them upon my heart.

Chr. Then, as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your trouble.

Hope. Yes, verily, but it would come into my mind again, and then I should be as bad,

nay worse, than I was before.

Chr. Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again?

Hope. Many things; as -- 1. If I did but meet a good man in the streets; or, 2. If I have

heard any read in the Bible; or, 3. If mine head did begin to ache; or, 4. If I were told that

some of my neighbours were sick; or, 5. If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead;

or, 6. If I thought of dying myself; or, 7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others;

8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come to Judgment.

Chr. And could you at any time, with ease, get off the guilt of sin, when by any of these

ways it came upon you?

Hope. No, not I; for then they got faster hold of my 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 praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbours,

etc. 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 trouble came tumbling upon me again, and

that over the neck of all my reformations.

Chr. How came that about, since you were now reformed?

Hope. There were several things brought it upon me, especially such sayings as these:

“All our righteousnesses* are as filthy rags” (Isa. 64:6). “By the works of The Law shall

no flesh be justified” (Gal. 2:16). “When ye shall have done all those things which are

commanded you, say, We are unprofitable” (Luke 17:10); 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 (human) can be justified; and if, when we have done

all, we are yet unprofitable, then ‘tis but a folly to think of heaven by The Law. I further

thought thus: If a man runs a hundred pounds into the shopkeeper's debt, and after that

shall pay for all that he shall fetch; yet, if this old debt stands still in the book uncrossed,

for that the shopkeeper may sue him, and cast him into prison till he shall pay the debt.

*“Self”-righteousness.

Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself?

Hope. Why, I thought thus with myself: I have, by my sins, run a great way into God's

book, and that my now reforming will not pay 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 transgressions (John 3:3-7; Gal. 6:15;

2Cor. 6:17)?

Chr. A very good application: but, pray, go on.

Hope. Another thing that hath troubled me, even since my late amendments, is, that if I

look narrowly into the best of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing itself with the

79

best of that I do; so that now I am forced to conclude, that notwithstanding my former

fond conceits of myself and duties, I have committed sin enough in one duty to send me

to hell, though my former life had been faultless.

Chr. 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 (John 3:3-7), neither mine own, nor all the 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 suggested it to you, that there was such a man

to be found, of whom it might justly be said that he never committed sin?

Hope. I must confess the words at first sounded strangely; but after a little more talk and

company with him, I had full conviction about it.

Chr. 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 justified by him, even by trusting to what he

hath done by himself, in the days of his flesh, and suffered when he did hang on the tree. I

asked him further, how that man's righteousness could be of that efficacy to justify

another before God? And he told me he was the mighty God, and did what he did, and

died the death also, not for himself, but for me; to whom his doings, and the worthiness of

them, should be imputed, if I believed him (Heb. 10; Rom. 4; Col. 1; 2Pet. 1).

Chr. And what did you do then?

Hope. I made my objections against my believing, for that I thought he was not 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; he said, No, for I

was invited to come (Matt. 11:28). Then he gave me a book of Jesus, his inditing, to

encourage me the more freely to come; and he said, concerning that book, that every jot

and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and earth (Matt. 24:35). 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. 95:6; Dan. 6:10; Jer. 29:12, 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

forgiveness to them that come. I told him that I knew not what to say when I came. And

he bid me say to this effect: God be merciful to me a sinner (Luke 18:9-14), and make me

to know and believe in Christ Jesus; for I see, that if his righteousness had not been, or I

have not faith in that righteousness, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard that

Thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that Thy Son Christ Jesus should be the

Saviour of the world; and, moreover, that Thou art willing to bestow him upon such a

poor sinner as I am (and I am a sinner indeed); Lord, take therefore this opportunity, and

magnify Thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through Thy Son Christ Jesus. Amen

(Exod. 25:22; Lev. 16:2; Num. 7:89; Heb. 4:16).

Chr. And did you do as you were bidden?

Hope. Yes; over, and over, and over.

80

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 (Matt. 6:7).

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; a hundred times twice told.

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

righteousness of this Christ, all the world could not save me; and therefore, thought I with

myself, if I leave off I die, and I can but die at the throne of grace*. And withal, this

came into my mind, “Though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not

tarry” (Hab. 2:3). So I continued praying until the Father showed me His Son.

*on the cross.

Chr. And how was he revealed unto you?

Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with the eyes of mine understanding

(Eph. 1:18, 19); and thus it was: One 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 damnation of

my soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Christ Jesus look down from heaven upon

me, and saying, “Believe the Lord Christ Jesus, and thou shalt be saved” (Acts 16:31).

But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner. And he answered, “My grace is

sufficient for thee” (2Cor. 12:9). Then I said, But, Lord, what is believing? And then I

saw, from that saying, “He that cometh to me shall never hunger; and he that believeth me

shall never thirst,” that believing and coming was all one; and that he that came, that is,

ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed Christ

(John 6:35). Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further, But, Lord, may such a

great sinner as I am be indeed accepted of thee, and be saved by thee? And I heard him

say, “And him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37). 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” (1Tim.

1:15). “For Christ is the end of The Law for righteousness to every one that believeth”

(Rom. 10:4). “Who was delivered for our offences, and was raised again for our

justification” (Rom. 4:25). “Him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own

blood” (Rev. 1:5). “For there is ONE God, and One mediator between God and men, the

Man Christ Jesus” (1Tim. 2:5). “He ever liveth to make intercession for them” (Heb.

7:25). 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 Christ

Jesus.

Chr. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed; but tell me particularly what

effect this had upon your spirit.

Hope. It made me see that all the world, notwithstanding all the righteousness thereof,

is in a state of condemnation. It made me see that God the Father, though He be just, can

justly justify the coming sinner. It made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former

81

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 Christ Jesus. It made

me love a holy life, and long to do something for the honour and glory of the name of the

Lord Jesus; yea, I thought that had I now a thousand gallons of blood in my body, I

could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus.

I saw then in my dream, that Hopeful looked back and saw Ignorance, whom they had

left behind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder youngster loitereth

behind.

Chr. Ay, ay, I see him; he careth not for our company.

Hope. But I trow it would not have hurt him had he kept pace with us hitherto.

Chr. That is true; but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise.

Hope. That, I think, he doth; but, however, let us tarry for him. So they did.

Then Christian said to him, Come away, man; why do you stay so behind?

Ignor. I take my pleasure in walking alone; even more a great deal than in company,

unless I like it the better.

Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly), Did I not tell you he cared not for our

company? But, however, 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 mind to

comfort me as I walk (Prov. 28:26).

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.

Chr. So do many that are never like to come there. “The soul of the sluggard desireth,

and hath nothing” (Prov. 13:4).

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 persuaded that thou hast left all for God and

heaven?

Ignor. My heart tells me so.

Chr. The wise man says, “He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool” (Prov. 28:26).

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.

Chr. 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 (Gen. 3:11)?

Ignor. My heart tells me so.

Chr. Ask my fellow if I be a thief! Thy heart tells thee so! Except the Word of God

beareth witness in this matter, other testimony is of NO value.

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

82

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 diverse kinds; some respecting ourselves, some God,

some Christ, and some other things.

Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting ourselves?

Chr. Such as agree with the Word of God.

Ignor. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree with the Word of God?

Chr. 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 doeth good, no, not one” (Rom. 3:10, 12). It saith also, that

“every imagination of the thoughts of his (man’s) heart was only evil continually” (Gen.

6:5). And again, “The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth”(Gen. 8:21). 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 hadst one good thought concerning thyself in thy life. But

let me go on. As the Word passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it passeth a judgment

upon our ways; and when our thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the Judgment

which the Word giveth of both, then are both good, because agreeing thereto.

Ignor. Make out your meaning.

Chr. Why, the Word of God saith that man's ways are crooked ways; not good, but

perverse (Ps. 125:5; Prov. 2:15). It saith they are naturally out of The Good Way; that

they have not known it (Rom. 3). Now, when a man thus thinketh of his ways; I say, when

he doth sensibly, and with heart-humiliation, thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his

own ways, because his thoughts now agree with the Judgment of the Word of God.

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.

*“Self”-righteousness

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 performances?

Chr. Why, how dost thou think in this matter?

Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for justification.

Chr. How! think thou must believe in Christ, when thou seest not thy need of him!

Thou neither seest thy original nor actual infirmities; but hast such an opinion of thyself,

and of what thou doest, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never see a necessity of

Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee before God. How, then, dost thou say, I

83

believe in Christ?

Ignor. I believe well enough for all that.

Chr. How dost thou believe?

Ignor. I believe that Christ died for sinners; and that I shall be justified before God from

the Curse, through His gracious acceptance of my obedience to His Law. Or thus, Christ

makes my duties, that are religious, acceptable to his Father, by virtue of his merits; and

so shall I be justified.

Chr. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith.

1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for this faith is nowhere described in the

Word.

2. Thou believest with a false faith; because it taketh justification from the personal

righteousness of Christ, and applies it to thy own.

3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, but of thy actions; and of thy

person for thy actions' sake, which is false.

4. Therefore, this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave thee under wrath, in the Day

of 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 God, it is accepted,

and acquit from condemnation.

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

demonstrateth what I say. Ignorant thou art of what justifying righteousness is, and as

ignorant how to secure thy soul, through the faith of it, from the heavy wrath of God. Yea,

thou also art ignorant of the true effects of saving faith in this righteousness of Christ,

which is to bow and win over the heart to God in Christ, to love His name, His word,

ways, and people, and not as thou ignorantly imaginest.

Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from heaven.

Ignor. What! you are a man for revelations! I believe that what both you, and all the rest

of you, say about that matter 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 cannot by any man be savingly known unless God the Father reveals him to them.

Ignor. That is your faith, but not mine; yet mine, I doubt not, is as good as yours,

though I have not in my head so many whimsies as you.

Chr. Give me leave to put in a word. You ought not so slightly to speak of this matter;

for this I will boldly affirm, even as my good companion hath done, that no man can

know Christ Jesus but by the revelation of the Father (Matt. 11:27); yea, and faith too,

by which the soul layeth hold upon Christ, if it be right, must be wrought by the

exceeding greatness of His mighty power; the working of which faith, I perceive, poor

Ignorance, thou art ignorant of (1Cor. 12:3; Eph. 1:18, 19). Be awakened, then, see thine

own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus; and by his righteousness, which is the

righteousness of God, for he himself is God, thou shalt be delivered from condemnation.

84

Ignor. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace with you. Do you go on before; I must stay a

while behind.

Then they said --

Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be,

To slight good counsel, ten times given thee?

And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know,

Ere long, the evil of thy doing so.

Remember, man, in time; stoop, do not fear;

Good counsel, taken well, saves; therefore hear.

But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou wilt be

The loser (Ignorance), I'll warrant thee.

Then Christian addressed thus himself to his fellow:-

Chr. Well, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou and I must walk by ourselves

again.

So I saw in my dream, that they went on apace before, and Ignorance, he came hobbling

after. Then said 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,” etc. But

now we are by ourselves, what do you think of such men? Have they at no time, think

you, convictions of sin, and so, consequently, fears that their state is dangerous?

Hope. Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for you are the elder man.

Chr. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may; but they, being naturally ignorant,

understand not that such convictions tend to their good; and therefore they do desperately

seek to stifle them (James 1:24), 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 them

right, at their beginning to go on pilgrimage.

Chr. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right; for so says the Word, “The fear of the Lord

is the beginning of Wisdom” (Job 28:28; Ps. 111:10; Prov. 1:7; 9:10).

Hope. How will you describe right fear?

Chr. True or right fear is discovered 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,

keeping it tender, and making it afraid to turn from them to the right hand or to the left,

to anything that may dishonour God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy

to speak reproachfully.

Hope. Well said; I believe you have said the truth. Are we now almost got past the

Enchanted Ground?

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 farther to go thereon. But let us return to our

85

matter. Now the ignorant know not that such convictions as tend to put them in fear are

for their good, and therefore they seek to stifle them.

Hope. How do they seek to stifle them?

Chr. 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the devil (though indeed they are

wrought of God); and, thinking so, they resist them as things that directly tend to their

overthrow. 2. They also think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith, when,

alas for them, poor men that they are, they have none at all! and therefore they harden

their hearts against them. 3. They presume they ought not to fear; and therefore, in despite

of them, wax presumptuously confident. 4. They see that those fears tend to take away

from them their pitiful old self-holiness, and therefore they resist them with all their

might.

Hope. I know something of this myself; for, before I knew myself, it was so with me

(Thomas 1:7, 8).

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 years ago, one Temporary in your parts,

who was a forward man in religion then?

Hope. Know him! yes; he dwelt in Graceless, a town about two miles off of Honesty,

and he dwelt next door to one Turnback.

Chr. Right, he dwelt under the same roof with him. Well, that man was much 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

ofttimes come to me, and that with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was not

altogether without hope of him; but one may see it is not every one that cries, “Lord,

Lord.”

Chr. He told me once that he was resolved to go on pilgrimage, as we do now; but all of

a sudden he grew acquainted with one Save-self (Save-“Self”), and then he became a

stranger to me.

Hope. Now, since we are talking about him, let us a little inquire into the reason of the

sudden backsliding of him and such others.

Chr. It may be very profitable, but do you begin.

Hope. Well, then, there are in my judgment four reasons for it:-

1. Though the consciences of such men are awakened, yet their minds are not changed;

therefore, when the power of guilt weareth away, that which provoked them to be

religious ceaseth; wherefore they naturally turn to their own course again (James 1:22-

24); 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 his 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” (2Pet. 2:22). Thus, I say, being hot for heaven by virtue only of the

sense and fear of the torments of hell, as their sense of hell and the fears of damnation

chills and cools, so their desires for heaven and salvation cool also. So then it comes to

pass, that when their guilt and fear is gone, their desires for heaven and joy die, and they

return to their course again.

86

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” (Prov. 29:25). 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 (James

1:8; 4:8), 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 them. They like not to see their misery

before they come into it; though perhaps the sight of it at first, if they loved that sight,

might make them fly whither the righteous fly and are safe. But because they do, as I

hinted before, even shun the thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they are rid

of their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, they harden their hearts gladly,

and choose such ways as will harden them more and more.

Chr. You are pretty near the business; for the bottom of all is, for want of a change in

their mind and will. And therefore they are but like the felon that standeth before the

judge; he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily; but the bottom of all is

the fear of the halter, not that he hath any detestation of the offence; as is evident,

because, let but this man have his liberty, and he will be a thief, and so a rogue still,

whereas, if his mind was changed, he would be otherwise.

Hope. Now I have showed you the reasons of their going back, do you show me the

manner thereof.

Chr. So I will willingly:-

1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, from the remembrance of God, death,

and judgment to come.

2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as closet-prayer, curbing their lusts,

watching, sorrow for sin, and the like.

3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Christians.

4. After that they grow cold to 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, that they may have a seeming colour to throw religion (for the sake of

some infirmity they have espied in them) behind their backs.

6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves with, carnal, loose, and

wanton men.

7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in secret; and glad are they if

they can see such things in any that are counted honest, that they may the more boldly do

it through their example.

8. After this they begin to play with little sins openly.

9. And then, being hardened, they show themselves as they are. Thus, being launched

again into the gulf of misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they everlastingly

perish in their own deceivings.

Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the pilgrims were got over the Enchanted

Ground; and, entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was very sweet and pleasant,

87

The Way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season (Isa. 62:4).

Yea, here they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw every day the flowers

appear on the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the land (S. of Sol. 2:10-12). In

this country the sun shineth night and day; wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the

Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair; neither could they from this

place so much as see Doubting Castle. Here they were within sight of the city they were

going to, also here met them some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land the Shining

Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also, the

contract between the Bride and the Bridegroom was renewed; yea, here, “As the

bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so did their God rejoice over them” (Isa. 62:5). Here

they had no want of corn and wine; for in this place they met with abundance of what they

had sought for in all their pilgrimage (Isa. 62:8). 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!” (Isa. 62:11). Here all the inhabitants of the country

called them, “The holy people, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out,” etc. (Isa. 62:12).

Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote

from the Kingdom to which they were bound; and drawing near to the city, they had yet a

more perfect view thereof. It was builded of pearls and precious stones, also the streets

thereof were paved with gold; so that by reason of the natural glory of the city, and the

reflection of the sunbeams upon it, Christian with desire fell sick. Hopeful also had a fit

or two of the same disease. Wherefore here they lay by it a while, crying out, because of

their pangs, “If ye find my beloved, tell him that I am sick of love” (S. of Sol. 5:8).

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 Own

delights, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them into the vineyards,

and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties (Deut. 23:24). He also showed them

there the King's walks, and the arbours where He delighted to be; and here they tarried

and slept.

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 thereabout, the gardener said even to me,

Wherefore musest thou at the matter? It is the nature of the fruit of the grapes of these

vineyards to go down so sweetly as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to speak.

So I saw that when they awoke they addressed themselves to go up to the city; but, as I

said, the reflection of the sun upon the city (for “the city was pure gold,” Rev. 21:18) was

so extremely glorious that they could not, as yet, with open face behold it, but through an

instrument made for that purpose (2Cor. 3:18). 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.

These men asked the pilgrims whence they came; and they told them. They also asked

them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers, what comforts and pleasures

they had met in The Way; and they told them. Then said the men that met them, You have

but two difficulties more to meet with, and then you are in the city.

Christian then, and his companion, asked the men to go along with them; so they told

them they would. But, said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my

dream, that they went on together until they came in sight of the gate.

88

Now, I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate was a river, but there was no bridge

to go over: the river was very deep. At the sight, therefore, of this river, the pilgrims were

much stunned; but the men that went with them said, You must go through, or you cannot

come at the gate.

The pilgrims then began to inquire if there was no other way to the gate. To which they

answered, Yes; but there hath not any, save two, to wit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted

to tread that path since the foundation of the world, nor shall, until the last trumpet shall

sound (1Cor. 15:51, 52; Rev. 11:15). 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. Then they asked the men if the waters were all of a

depth? They said, No; yet they could not help them in that case; for, said they, You shall

find it deeper or shallower, as you believe 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.

Then said the other, Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bottom, and it is good.

Then said Christian, Ah! my friend, “the sorrows of death have compassed me about”; I

shall not see the land that flows with milk and honey; and with that a great darkness and

horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see before him. Also 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. Hopeful, therefore, here had much ado to keep his brother's

head above water; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere a while, he

would rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, saying,

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. 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” (Ps. 73:4, 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

you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of His

goodness, and live upon Him in your distresses.

Then I saw in my dream, that Christian was as in a muse awhile. To whom also Hopeful

added this word, Be of good cheer. Christ Jesus maketh thee whole; and with that

Christian brake out with a loud voice, Oh! I see Him again, and He tells me, “When thou

passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not

overflow thee” (Isa. 43:2). Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as

still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore presently found ground to

stand upon, and so it followed that the rest of the river was but shallow. Thus they got

over. Now, upon the bank of the river, on the other side, they saw the two Shining Men

89

again, who there waited for them; wherefore, being come out of the river, they saluted

them, saying, We are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for those that shall be heirs

of salvation. Thus they went along towards the gate.

Now, now look how the holy pilgrims ride,

Clouds are their Chariots, Angels are their Guide:

Who would not here for Him all hazards run,

That thus provides for His when this world's done?

Now you must note that the city stood upon a mighty hill; but the pilgrims went up that

hill with ease, because they had these two men to lead them up by the arms; also, they had

left their mortal garments* behind them in the river, for though they went in with them,

they came out without them (Gal. 2:20). They, therefore, went up here with much agility

and speed, though the foundation upon which the city was framed was higher than the

clouds. They therefore went up through the regions of the air, sweetly talking as they

went, being comforted because they safely got over the river, and had such glorious

companions to attend them.

*the human “Self”.

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 were inexpressible. There, said they, is the “Mount Sion,

the heavenly Jerusalem, an innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men

made perfect” (Heb. 12:22-24). You are going now, said they, to the paradise of God,

wherein you shall see the Tree of Life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof; and

when you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall

be every day with the King, even all the days of eternity (Rev. 2:7; 3:4; 22:5 / King of

kings’ Bible, Rev. 30:5). There you shall not see again such things as you saw when you

were in the lower region upon the earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death,

“for the former things are passed away.” You are now going to Abraham, to Isaac, and

Jacob/Israel, 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 (Isa. 57:1,

2; 65:17). 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 (Gal. 6:7). 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*” (1John 3:2). There also you shall serve Him continually with praise, with

shouting, and thanksgiving, Whom you desire to serve in the world, though with much

difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be delighted with

seeing, and your ears with hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall

enjoy your friends again, that are gone thither before you; and there you shall with joy

receive, even every one that follows into the holy place after you. There also shall you be

clothed with glory and majesty, and put into an equipage fit to ride out with the King of

Glory. When He shall come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the

wind, 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 (Dan. 7:9, 10; Jude 14; 1Thess. 4:13-17; 1Cor. 6:2, 3). Also, when

90

He shall again return to the city, you shall go too, with sound of trumpet, and be ever with

Him.

*Not as you think He should be.

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” (Rev. 19:9). 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), continually 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. Thus, therefore, they walked on together; and as they walked, ever and anon

these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would, by mixing their music with looks and

gestures, still signify to Christian and his brother how welcome they were into their

company, and with what gladness they came to meet them (Luke 15:6-7). 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; -- Oh, by what tongue or

pen can their glorious joy be expressed! And thus they came up to the gate.

Now, when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it, in letters of gold,

“Blessed are they that keep and do His Commandments, that they may have right to the

Tree of Life. And will share Divine Love and know paradise and bliss and may enter in

through the gates into the City” (Rev. 22:14 / King of kings’ Bible, Rev. 30:14; Sura

2:214; 3:198).

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,

etc., to whom it was said, These pilgrims are come from the City of Destruction, for the

love that they bear to the King of this place; and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each

man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning; those, therefore, were

carried into the King, Who, when He read them, said, Where are the men? To Whom it

was answered, They are standing without the gate. The King then commanded to open the

gate, “That the righteous nation,” said He, “which keepeth the truth, may enter in” (Isa.

26:2).

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 was also

that met them with harps and crowns, and gave them to them -- the harps to praise withal,

and the crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream, that all the bells in the city

rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, “Enter ye into the joy of your Lord.” I

91

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” (Rev. 5:13).

Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and, behold,

the city shone like the sun; the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked

many men with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing

praises withal.

There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without

intermission, saying, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord” (Rev. 4:8). And after that they shut

up the gates; which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them.

Now, while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look back, and saw

Ignorance come up to the river side; but he soon got over, and that without half that

difficulty which the other two men met with. For it happened that there was then in that

place one Vain-hope, a ferryman, that with his boat helped him over; so he, as the other I

saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate, only he came alone; neither did any man

meet him with the least encouragement. When he was come up to the gate, he looked up

to the writing that was above, and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should

have been quickly administered to him; but he was asked by the men that looked over the

top of the gate, Whence came you? and what would you have? He answered, I have ate

and drank in the presence of the King, and He has taught in our streets. Then they asked

him for his certificate, that they might go in and show it to the King; so he fumbled in his

bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, Have you none? But the man answered

never a word. So they told the King; but He would not come down to see him, but

commanded the two Shining Ones, that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the city, to go

out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away (Matt. 22:9-14).

Then they took him up, and carried him through the air, to the door that I saw in the side

of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the

gates of heaven, as well as from the City of Destruction. So I awoke, and behold it was a

dream.

92

THE CONCLUSION.

Now, Reader, I have told my Dream to thee;

See if thou canst interpret it to me,

Or to thyself, or neighbour; but take heed

Of misinterpreting; for that, instead

Of doing good, will but thyself abuse:

By misinterpreting, evil ensues.

Take heed, also, that thou be not extreme,

In playing with the outside of my Dream;

Nor let my figure or similitude

Put thee into a laughter or a feud.

Leave this for boys and fools; but as for thee,

Do thou the substance of my matter see.

Put by the curtains, look within my veil,

Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail

There, if thou seekest them, such things to find

As will be helpful to an honest mind.

What of my dross thou findest there, be bold

To throw away, but yet preserve the gold.

What if my gold be wrapped up in ore?

None throws away the apple for the core;

But if thou shalt cast all away as vain,

I know not but 'twill make me dream again.

[End.]

 

Make a Free Website with Yola.