Ji Wit Mktolagit^i _^ # PRINCETON, N. J. ** Si PRESENTED BY THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION K L /OS/0 \l -'t.-txTj? f" ^ •n ^": •#■ fF mM THE PllKSBYTERIAH BOARD CW PUBI,; lU.PHIA. 1844 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, J' JOHN BUNYAN. MOST CAREFCTLLT COLLATED WTTH THE EDmoN CONTAINING THE ADTHOR'S LAST ADDITIONS AND COBSECTIONS. WITH EXPLANATORY NOTES, BY THOMAS SCOTT, D. D. AND A LIFE OF THE AUTHOE, BV JOSIAH CONDER, ESQ. PHILADELPHIA : PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. AJ)YERTISEMENT TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. BuNYAN has been picturesquely described as the "Prince of Dreamers." He merits a much higher eu- logy. His imperishable work, which is here presented in a new and beautiful garb, exhibits the chastened imagination of the poet; the discriminating knowledge of the casuist; the acuteness of the theologian; and the sweet and gentle spirit of the Christian instructer. He enchains his readers by a species of fascination which it is difficult to analyze, and which could result only from a rare combination of talent. The deeply interested attention of the child and the philosopher, of the expe- rienced Christian and the admirer of fiction, is alike absorbed in his skilfully drawn narrative of the Pil grim's progress from the city of Destruction to his celestial home. The reader is at once charmed and instructed; his imagination is gratified and his heart impressed, by the perusal of this extraordinary produc tion. Founded as it is in an intimate acquaintance with the workings of the human heart under the im- pulse of natural principles and the superadded influ ence of gracious affections, it found its place in the hearts of men at its first appearance, and its popularity has steadily increased in the lapse of time. No unin- A 1 2 ADVERTISEMENT. spired volume has perhaps ever been demanded with greater eagerness by all classes of readers, or has been so astonisliingly multiplied through the press. No explanation is necessary in presenting a new edition, in a style in some degree commensurate with its intrinsic excellence. The whole texture of the volume is strictly American in its fabric, and when its typo- graphical beauty and the delicacy and finish of its engravings are considered, it will be readily acknow- ledged that few works of the American or even Euro- pean press have surpassed it in point of execution. In all respects it is highly creditable to the state of the arts in a country which may still be regarded as young in efforts of this kind. The encouragement to engage in a work so splendid and costly has been derived from two individuals, at once the admirers of Bunyan, the friends of religion, and the supporters of its institutions. — By their liberality, the whole expense of stereotyp- ing the volume, and procuring its embellishments, has been sustained; so that the Presbyterian Board of Publication are enabled to furnish the volume at a price greatly beneath that of any similar work. As it is, it is commended to public attention, and to that Divine blessing which alone can make it an invahi- aole possession. EMBELLISHMENTS. Head of Bunyan . . • .to face title Vignette . . . • Initial Letter for « Life" Initial Letter lor Part I. , • Christian and Evangelist . • Christian got up to the Gate Christian's Burden falls off his Back The Palace called Beautiful Christian passing the Cave of Pope and Pagan Vanity Fair .... Demas invites the Pilgrims to the Hill Lucre Christian and Hopeful asleep in the grounds of Giant Despair Christian and Hopeful escaping from Doubting Castle The Delectable Mountains . The Pilgrims on Mount Clear The Pilgrims Initial Letter for Part II. Christiana and her Children at the W^icket-gate Mercy : — " 0 Sir, said she, 1 am faint." The Shepherd Boy in the Valley of Humiliation Great-heart kills Giant Maul The River of the Water of Life Destruction of Doubting Castle , Valiant-for-truth beset with Thieves The Land of Beulah . , Pa^'C. ©MM^T VnOSJIil'S':! IFIIi®3^^E®IFIi:iOB. O I PDB ONE BRIGHT THOUGH MOMENTAET GLANCiB : 8DCH AS OF OLD IN PATMOS ISLE WAS GIVEN TO HIM WHO SAW THE CLOUDS ASUNDER RIYBN: AND. PASSING ALL THE SPLENDOUR OP ROMANCE, IN GLORY, AND IN "POMP OF CIRCUMSTANCE:" THE NEW JERUSALEM COME DOWN FROM HEAVEN •— OR THE LEAST MEASURE OP THAT MYSTIC LEAVEN WHICH BLESSED OLD BUNYAN'S VISIONARY TRANCE I BUT VAIN THE PAINTER'S OR THE POET'S SKILL, THAT HEAVENLY CITY'S GLORY TO DECLARE ;— AT.T, SUCH CAN FURNISH IS A VISION FAIR, AND GORGEOUS; HAVING. AS ITS CENTRE STILL, HIS CROSS WHO DIED ON CALVARY'S HOLY HILL; MAira ONLY TITLE TO ADMITTANCE THERE. JBHHMAIEID) IE.^3IlK®S^o MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF JOHN BUNYAN. — * t!^ lie most popular religious book in English literature, — in which the most popular books are of a religious char- acter,— is the production of an mi- educated peasant, who worked his way out of the lowest vice and ignorance, not by the force of his genius, so much as by that of an impulse which quickened his genius into life, and transformed him at once intellectually and morally. The finest specimen of well- sustained allegory in any language, is the composition of this self-taught rustic, who little aimed at literary celebrity in the homely parable which he wrote to solace his prison hours, for the religious instruction of the common people 6 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS The most admirable exposition of the elements of Chris- tian theology, — one which is so little of a controversial or sectarian character, that it may confessedly be read without offence by sober-minded Protestants of all per- suasions, and yet so comprehensive, as to form the best popular body of divinity, — is the composition of an obscure itinerant preacher, whose apostolic labours consigned him, in the days of the Stuarts, to a twelve years' imprison- ment in Bedford gaol, for no other crime than his noncon- formity. What is still more remarkable, this work, the Odyssey of the English people, — the favourite with young and old ; which the poet admires for its imaginative beauty, and in which the artist finds the most delightful subjects for the pencil ; to the extraordinary merit of which, testimony has been borne by critics who have had no sympathy with either the design and religious spirit of the work, or the theological opinions interwoven with it, and who rank the realities shadowed in the allegory with the visionary creations of romance; — this work — we need not name it — the Pilgrim's Progress, is, in fact, a powerful address to the conscience ; having no other object than to delineate the successive stages of the spiritual life, and to portray the mental conflicts of experimental piety, which, to those who have no corresponding experience, must appear the hallucination of fanaticism. Strange that a work should have power so to please the imagination of an indevout man, which can be understood only by the heart in which religion has its seat; — that those who have not the key^to the cipher, should still admire the character in which the spiritual meaning is veiled, and which experience alone can perfectly interpret. But such is the fact. This extraordinary work, it has been beautifully remarked by an American critic, " is like a painting meant to be exhibited by fire-light : the common reader sees it by day. To the Christian (the actual pilgrim) it is a glorious transparency; and the light that shines through it, and gives its incidents such life, its colours such depth, and the whole scene such a surpassing glory, is light from eternity, the meaning of heaven." OF JOHN BUNYAN. 7 Religion never oflends, so long as she addresses only the imagination ; a fact of which, for opposite purposes, the Author of all truth and the apostles of error have alike availed themselves; the former to gain access by this avenue to the understanding and the conscience, the latter to enlist the imagination in the support of superstition. He who spalve as never man spake, taught the people in parables, and by this means obtained a hearing from those who could not bear his hard sayings ; and still these divine allegories — the matchless parable of the Prodigal Son, for mstance — have charms for readers who never take home to their own bosoms their spiritual import. Rousseau has eloquently eulogized the sublime poetry of the Scriptures. The Pilgrim's Progress is replete with the spirit of poetry, caught from no earthly muse. Bunyan's genius was nourished purely from the fountain-head of inspiration. He thought in the very dialect of Scripture ; and the imagery of the Bible was ever present to his thoughts, as, if we may say so, the native scenery of his spiritual birth. He was made by the Bible ; educated by the study of it ; it was his "book of all learning;" and the simplicity of purpose and the intense interest with which he searched its contents, as the treasury of heavenly wisdom, rendered him, like Apollos, "eloquent and mighty in the Scrip- tures," while his mind became more and more imbued with their " spirit and life." It has been said with some truth, that the genius of his work is Hebrew. " The poetry of the Bible," remarks the critic to whom we have already referred, " was not less the source of Bunyan's poetical power, than the study of the whole Scriptures was the source of his simplicity and purity of style. His heart was not only made new by tile spirit of the Bible, but his whole intellectual being was penetrated and transfigured Dy its influence. He brought the spirit and power gathered from so long and exclusive a communion with the prophets and apostles, to the composition of every page of the Pil- grim's Progress, To the habit of mind thus induced, and the workings of an imagination thus disciplined, may be 8 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS traced the simplicity of all his imagery, and the power of his personifications He wrote from the impulse of his genius, sanctified and illuminated by a heavenly influence : and its movements were as artless as the movements of a httle child left to play upon the green by itself"* It is in this inimitable simplicity and artlessness, that the work comes nearer to the character of the sacred writings than, perhaps, any uninspired composition. And, like the Scriptures, Bunyan's parable, while it commands the admiration of cultivated minds by those qualities which delight the imagination, has conveyed in- struction and consolation to thousands incapable of appre- ciating its genius, and unconscious of the spell which it exerted over their minds. To the child, it is a gallery of pictures ; to the man of taste, an exquisite drama ; to the plain Christian of duller fancy, a chart and road-book of his course through this world. With regard to many whom the Pilgrim's Progress captivates, it might be said of its author as of the Hebrew prophet : " Lo ! thou art unto them as a very lovely song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an instrument : for they hear thy words, but they do them not." On the other hand, thousands who have had no ear for the music, have dehghted in the words of the song, and have followed the instruction it conveyed : it would not otherwise be adapted to the mass of common minds among the lower classes for whom it was designed, and upon whom it has, for two hundred years, exerted a beneficial effect which it is im- possible to bring within any estimate. But the rich vein of native good sense and sober pleasantry which runs through the work, recommends it to all orders of readers ; and the Pilgrim's Progress was the favourite of the people, before the fame of its author had made its way up to those who are called the public. In the " well-told tale," " Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail. Its Jiumorous vein, strong sense, and simple style, May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile. — * North American Review, No. LXXIX. p, 462. OF JOHN BUNYAN. 9 Witty, and well employed, and, like thy Lord, Speaking in parables his slighted word ; I name thee not, lest so despised a name Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame." So Cowper sang fifty years ago ; and the fact that there is no longer any danger of moving a sneer by naming the author of the Pilgrim's Progress, affords reason to hope that we have grown, in this country, somewhat wiser. In addition to these various sources of attraction, the work possesses, in a considerable degree, the interest of autobiography: for it is impossible not to feel that, in the progress of his pilgrim, the author is laying open to us his own mental history. As he tells us in his homely rhymes, " It came from my own heart, so to my head. And thence into my fingers trickled." This characteristic feature of the parable broadly and hap- pily distinguishes it from the heavy ingenuities of didactic or sentimental allegorists, such as the brood of imitators whom his success raised up, or those who had preceded him in the same species of composition. The charge of being a plagiarist, or of having been assisted in the compo- sition, Bunyan himself indignantly repels : " Manner and matter too was all mine own." " But," remarks Dr. Southey, " original as Bunyan believed his own work to be, and as, in the main, undoubtedly it is, the same allegory had often been treated before him."* *Mr. Montgomery, in his very able Introductory Essay to the Pilgrim's Progress, refers to a poem, entitled "The Pilgrim," in Witney's "Emblems," (1585,) the print affixed to which represents a pilgrim leaving the world, (a geographical globe,) and travelling towards the symbol of the Divine Name. This emblem, with the following stanza, might, it is imagined, have suggested to Bunyan the first idea of his story ; though it does not, in fact, present any tiling beyond the familiar scripture simile : — " O happier they that, pondering this arighte. Before that here their pilgrimage bee past, Resigne this world ; and marche with all their mighte Within tliat pathe that leads where ioys shall last. And whilst they maye, there treasure vp their store, Where, without rust, it lastes for evermore." Dr. Southey mentions a once popular French poem, composed a. d. 1310, entitled, " Le Pelerin de la Vie Humaine," as having suggested the Voyage of B 10 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS How could it fail to have been employed by religious, writers, when the outline of the allegory is supplied by the Holy Scriptures? In the eleventh chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews, the Christian life is represented as a pil- grimage to a better, a heavenly country ; and, in the following chapter, we have the heavenly city magnificently described. Surely we need look no further for the origin of Bunyan's allegory, as regards the main idea of the parable. But the felicity with which he has dramatized the progress of the Christian pilgrim, is peculiar to him- self; and Dr. Southey sums up his examination of the works to which it has been thought to bear the strongest appearance of resemblance, with the candid and decisive conclusion, that "if ever there was a work which carried with it the stamp of originality in all its parts, it is that of John Bunyan." Did its author's claim to originality rest upon this work alone, his fame would even then be safe ; but, in his Holy War, Bunyan has displayed even superior power of inven- tion ; and if his " Life and Death of Mr. Badman " has not been as generally read, it is, in the opinion of Dr. Southey, whom we cite as an impartial judge, "because the subject is less agreeable, not that it has been treated with inferior ability." the Wandering Knight, by Jean de Cartheray, a French Carmelite, of which a translation was printed in England in the reign of Elizabeth : but there is only a vague general resemblance in the subject, and some occasional simi- larity in the details. The Pilgrimage of Dovekin and Willekin to their Beloved in Jerusalem, originally published in Dutch, at Antwerp, in 1627, has also been absurdly supposed to have been the original of the Pilgrim's Progress. Dr. Southey has triumphantly exposed the groundless nature of this supposition: tlie works have nothing in common. Dean Patrick's " Parable of the Pilgrim," 1663, comes nearer to Bunyan's work in some points of general resemblance; but it is a treatise rather than an allegory, and the author, disclaiming all pretension to fancy or invention, states, that lie took the idea from a discourse so entitled in Baker's " Sancta Sophia." Bernard's " Isle of Man, or the Legal Proceedings in Man-shire against Sin," a popular book in Bunyan's time, is more likely to have been seen by him, and to have had some effect upon his style ; but it wants the charm of story, and has nothing of the romantic interest of Bunyan's parable. OF JOHN BUNYAN. 11 " Little less popular " than the Pilgrim's Progress, and, whether viewed as a theological work or as an allegory, of at least equal merit, the Holy War fails to excite the same romantic kind of interest, chiefly because we sympathize less strongly with the personifications of the drama ; con- scious that, instead of being led through the vivid scenery of a dream, which is the shadow of waking realities, we are only looking at the well-constructed machinery of a fable. We feel to be conversing Avith abstractions, and never forget the allegory. One principal reason why the Pil- grim's Progress is the most delightful thing of the kind in the world, Mr. Montgomery observes, is "that though the whole is written under the similitude of a dream, there is very little of pure allegory in it ; and few abstract qualities or passions are personified If ever allegorical cha- racters excite either sympathy or affection, it is when we forget that they are allegorical ; consequently, when the allegory is suspended with respect to them." In reading the Pilgrim's Progress, we so constantly identify the author with his hero, as to find it difficult to separate them in our feelings ; and the allegorical meaning seems super- induced upon the story, which flows on with so much of the semblance of real life. The Pilgrim not only seems a real character, but gives reality to the emblematic phan- toms with which he is associated ; and the mind of the reader undergoes a sort of deception similar to that which is produced upon the waking eye by a peculiar aflection of the brain, the subject of which sees spectral forms blending with living figures, and is unable to discriminate between the substantial and the unreal. It may be suspected, indeed, that in the subordinate per- sonages of the allegory, Bunyan had real characters* so far in * "We may be sure," remarks Dr. Southey, "that Mr. Valiant-for-the- Truth, Old Honest, of the town of Stupidity, Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much-Afraid, and their companions, were well known in ' Bishop Bunyan's diocese ;' and if no real characters were designed by him in those who are less favourably introduced as turning back on their journey, striking into by-paths, or slumbering by the way, likenesses would be discovered where none were intended." 12 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS view, that the ideal was, as it were, modeled upon a portrait. In all the variety of characters which he brings before us, there is an individuality stamped upon them, by which they may be identified. But the biographical unity is as truly preserved by the prominence given to the principal actor, as in the classical epic. Christian is the Ulysses of the story. And this unity of interest results from the author's simplicity of purpose, which led him steadily to keep in view his main design; Hence, the allegory, if defective or inconsistent in parts, (for which the author has provided a sufficient apology in styling it a dream, for in dreams we are not conscious of such discrepancies,) is perfectly adapted, as Mr. Montgomery remarks, to the purpose for which it was composed. This was, " to show the particular experience of one Christian traveller, whose peculiar temptations and conflicts are general examples of what converted sinners must expect to encounter, though not all in the same degree, nor indeed all the same in kind. Christian, therefore, may be considered as a iv hole-length portrait of the author himself; while the secondary cha- racters, more or less curtailed, show the variety wliich is found in religious societies." . . . . " The Pilgrim's Progress is the history of one man's experience in full, and the expe- rience of many others in part ; wherefore, though the plan may be defective with regard to the multitude, all of whom are absolutely subordinate to the hero. Christian, with regard to him it is perfect, consistent, and satisfactory throughout. This was all that the author primarily pro- posed ; and whatever went beyond this, fell in his way, rather than belonged to his actual design. The unity of the plot, in the personal adventures of Christian, is not broken, but embellished and enriched by the incidental or episodical characters with which he becomes acquainted by the way." Mr. Montgomery has pointed out a remarkable instance of the consummate yet artless skill which Bunyan has in this respect displayed, in the introduction of a companion to Christian, by which the interest of the narrative is rein- OF JOHN BUNYAN. 13 forced without being divided. "The individual experience of one man," remarks this accomplished critic, " would not have been sufficient to exemplify all the most useful lessons of the Gospel, unless the trials of many persons, of diiferent age, sex, and disposition, were interwoven. Christian could not both have suffered martyrdom in Vanity Fair, and travelled the remainder of his journey, to the Celestial City ; yet, in the days of John Bunyan, (who had himself been most cruelly persecuted for righteousness' sake,) it was necessary to set the precedent of a confessor who was ready, not to be bound only, but to die for the Lord Jesus, This has been done in the case of Faithful, who seals his testimony with his blood, while Christian, in a manner not explained, (which, however, is no flaw in the plot, having been advisedly adopted,) escapes 'for this rime,' and, being joined by Hopeful, a convert raised up by the death of Faithful, proceeds on his way." The Second Part of the Pilgrim's Progress, if it does not excite so intense an interest, is not less delightful than the first. It is even richer in incident; and the author has shown the fertility of his invention, in the novelty which he has thrown into the journey over the same ground, so that nothing is repeated, but what is pleasing in the repe- tition, from the combined effect of reminiscence and con- trast. In the pilgrimage of Christian and his successive companions, it appears to have been his design, Mr. Mont- gomery remarks, to portray the personal' and solitary expe- rience of the individual believer, or only the bosom fellow- ship between two Christian friends. "In the journey of Christiana and her family, gradually increasing to a goodly troop, he seems to have had more in view to illustrate the communion of saints and the advantages of church-mem- bership. It is delightful to travel in such company, and hear- them not only tell their several histories, but discourse of tlie adventures of others who have gone before ; so that to the last stage, in the Enchanted Ground, when they find Standfast on his knees, there is a perpetual change of captivating anecdote and biography. Among the characters 14 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS which so eminently enliven and adorn the Second Part oi the Pilgrim's Progress, Mercy is the most lovely ; and though of the utmost simplicity, it would be difficult, among the most finished portraits of womanly excellence by our first poets, to parallel this in delicacy and truth of drawing and colouring." In the attempt to imbody in an imaginary portrait, the personification of feminine virtue, some of the greatest of our poets have failed; and when we consider the circumstances of Bunyan's early history, his success in this instance must be viewed as a remarkable proof of the tendency of religion to purify and refine the taste. But here again the Bible was both his model and the source of his inspiration ; and Mercy might almost pass for a scriptural character. It has been remarked, that the allegory is not so perfect in the Second Part, the pil- grimage of Christiana and her family appearing to occupy as many years as that of her husband did weeks ; for those who are children at their setting out, are grown up and married by the time they reach the half-way house of Gains. But these incongruities, which are regarded as a pardonable license in the dramatist, cannot be fairly imputed to want of skill in our " ingenious dreamer." Bunyan's purpose was to convey instruction; and to this, his main end, he would have sacrificed all the unities. But, upon the whole, the allegory is very skilfully main- tained. It may be questioned whether Bunyan himself would have succeeded in a Third Part. But let us now turn from the author's parable to the prototype in the history of his own experience, of which he has left a narrative that forms one of the most interesting pieces of religious autobiography in any language. In common with all productions of the kind, where the sin- cerity of the writer is above suspicion, it requires to be taken as a transcript of the writer's feelings and impres- sions, rather than as a literal and accurate history. There is always a generous exaggeration in the disclosures of true penitence, for which allowance must be made ; and in the description of the interior phenomena of a mental conflict, OF JOHN BUNYAN. 15 such as Bunyan passed through, the calmest judgment must be sometimes at a loss to discriminate between the healthful and the morbid action, when it is the patient who describes the case. Such works furnish the most valuable materials for biography ; but, as will appear in the sequel, it requires no ordinary discrimination, candour, and knowledge of the heart, to make the requisite allowances for the circumstances of the most conscientious narrator of his own history. John Bunyan was born m the village of Elstow, near Bedford, in the year 1628. His descent, to use his own words, was "of a low and inconsiderable generation," his "father's house being of that rank that is meanest and most despised of all the families in the land." The craft to which he was born and bred, like his father before him, was that of a brazier or tinker ; and he is said to have worked as a journeyman at Bedford. Mean and incon- siderable as were the circumstances of his parents, they were able to put their son to school ; where he learned both to read and write "according to the rate of other poor men's children ; " but he confesses that he soon lost, almost utterly, what little he had acquired. Thrown among vile companions, he was early initiated into profanene^s, lying, and all sorts of boyish vice and ungodliness ; and the only indication of his having a capacity above the village rabble, was afforded by his being a ringleader of all the youth that kept him company, in their wickedness. Yet, even at nine or ten years old, in the midst of his many sports and childish vanities, and surrounded by his vain companions, he was often seized with deep compunction ; and in his sleep, fearful visions, corresponding to his waking terrors, would alarm his conscience. " I was often," he says, "much cast down and afflicted therewith, yet could I not let go my sins : yea, I was also then so overcome with despair of life and heaven, that I should often wish, either that there had been no hell, or that I had been a devil, sup- posing they were only tormentors; that, if it must needs be that I went thither, I might be rather a tormentor, than 16 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS be tormented myself." After a time, these terrible dreams left him, and his apprehensions of infernal punishment wore off. He became " void of all good consideration ;" " heaven and hell were both out of mind :" and " had not a miracle of precious grace prevented," he says, "he had not only perished by the stroke of eternal justice, but had also laid himself open even to the stroke of those laws which bring some to disgrace and open shame before the world." It may be inferred, however, from this ingenuous confes- sion, that he- was nevertheless restrained from the com- mission of any delinquency cognizable by the magistrate. He was wild, boisterous, reckless, disorderly ; passionately fond of village-sports, such as bell-ringing, dancing, 'the game of cat,' and similar amusements; a Sabbath-breaker, a terrible swearer, and thoroughly ungodly. But this appears to have been the extent of his youthful wicked- ness. He was no drunkard, nor was he, in the grossest acceptation, licentious. We have his own solemn decla- ration, in reply to his calumniators, that "no woman in heaven, or earth, or hell," could witness against him. " Not," he adds, " that I have been thus kept because of any goodness in me, more than other, but God has been merciful to me, and has kept me." It is evident that his conscience, though laid asleep, was never hardened ; for, while he could take pleasure in the vileness of his com- panions, yet, if at any time he saw wicked things com- mitted by those " who professed goodness," it would make his spirit tremble. Once, when in the height of his vanity, hearing a person swear who was reputed a religious man, "it struck upon his spirit," he says, "so as to make his heart ache." Bunyan was only seventeen when he entered into the Parliament's army; and in 1645, he was drawn out, with others, to go to the siege of Leicester ; but when he was just ready to set off, one of the company expressed a desire to go in his stead, and, Bunyan having consented, the volunteer took his place, went to the siege, and was shot as he stood sentinel. This remarkable interposition of Divine OF JOHN BUNYAN. 17 Providence, as well as some other narrow escapes from death, Bunyan records with devout gratitude ; but, at the time, they appear to have made a slight or transient impression upon his conscience. He could not have been long a soldier; yet it is probable that we are indebted to his having served in the civil wars, for the skilful manage- ment of his military allegory. Not long after the occurrence above mentioned, and when, consequently, he must have been very young, (Dr. Southey thinks, before he was nineteen,) Bunyan married; and "my mercy was," he says, "to light upon a wife whose father was counted godly." They were both so poor as not to have so much household stuff as a dish or a spoon between them; but she brought him, for her portion, two books which her father had bequeathed to her when he died ; one entitled, "The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven;" the other,>"The Practice of Piety."* In these two books, Bunyan would sometimes read with his wife ; and though they did not reach his heart so as to waken him to a sense of his real condition, yet they produced some desires and endeavours after reformation. These were fostered, too, by the frequent references made by his wife to the strict and holy life of her father. Bunyan now "fell in very eagerly with the religion of the times ; went to church twice on the Sunday, and said and sung with the fore- most;" and was withal, according to his own account, "so overrun with the spirit of superstition," that he adored with great devotion all things belonging to the church, — "the high-place, priest, clerk, vestment," and every thing relating to the service. The priest and clerk he counted most happy, and without doubt blessed, as the servants of God ; and for the love he bore to the clergy, supposing them the ministers of heaven, he could have lain down at their feet, and have been trampled upon by them; so * The latter work, by Bayly, Bishop of Bangor, was at one time so popular as to pass through more than fifty editions in the course of a hundred years, and has been translated not only into Welsh, the author's native tongue, but into Polish and Hvjigarian. c 18 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS strongly, at this time, did their name, their garb, ana then- function "intoxicate and bewitch" him. This is precisely the feeling of abject reverence with which the priest of the Romish church is regarded by the common people in Popish countries ; and if, at this period of his life, when his imagination was so much stronger than his judgment, and his mind had not emerged from the grossest ignorance, Bunyan had been thrown in the way of an artful emissary of that church, it is probable that he would have been inextricably entangled in the toils of superstition. His moral and intellectual progress would have terminated at the Giant's Cave. All this while, he says, he was not sensible of the danger and evil of sin, nor ever thought of the Saviour. The " Plain Man's Pathway" had not directed him to the Cross. "Thus man," he remarks, "while blind, doth wander, but wearieth himself with vanity, for he knoweth not the way to the city of God." In fact, at this stage, Bunyan had not even thrown off the habit of using profane language; for, some time afterwards, he met with a humiliating reproof from a woman who was herself of bad character, but who protested that Bunyan's awful profaneness made her tremble, and that " he was able to spoil all the youth in the town who but came into his company." "At this reproof," he says,- "I was silenced and put to secret shame, and that too, as I thought, before the God of heaven ; wherefore, while I stood there, and hanging down my head, I wished with all my heart that I might be a little child again, that my father might learn me to speak without this wicked way of swearing; for, thought I, I am so accustomed to it, that it is in vain for l| me to think of a reformation; for I thought that could never be. But how it came to pass, I know not; I did from this time forward so leave my swearing, that it was a great wonder to myself to observe it ; and whereas, before, I knew not how to speak unless I put an oath before and another behind, to make my words have authority ; now I could, without it, speak better, and with more pleasantness, than ever I could before.'' OF JOHN BUNYAN. 19 This cordial wish, so touchingly expressed, would seem to have been the first genuine emotion of penitence in Bunyan's heart, such as all the terrific alarms of an awak- ened conscience had hitherto failed to produce. At this critical moment of incipient conversion, he " fell into com- pany with one poor man that made profession of religion," who, as he then thought, " did talk pleasantly of the Scrip- tures and of the matter of religion; wherefore," he says, "falling into some love and liking to what he said, I betook me to my Bible, and began to take great pleasure in reading, but especially with the historical part thereof; for, as for Paul's Epistles, and such like scriptures, I could not away with them, being as yet ignorant either of the corruptions of my nature, or of the want and worth of Jesus Christ to save us. Wherefore, I fell to some outward reformation, both in my words and life, and did set the commandments before me for my way to heaven; which commandments I also did strive to keep, and as I thought, did keep them pretty well sometimes My neighbours were amazed at this my great conversion from prodigious profaneness to something like a moral life : and truly so they well might ; for this my conversion was as great as for Tom of Bedlam to become a sober man. Now, there- fore, they began to praise, to commend, and to speak well of me, both to my face and behind my back." Flattered by these commendations, and proud of his imagined god- liness, he concluded that the Almighty "could not choose but be now pleased with him. Yea," he says, "to relate it in mine own way, I thought no man in England could please God better than I." He was wakened from this self-righteous delusion by accidentally overhearing the discourse of three or four poor women, who were sitting at a door in the sun, in one of the streets of Bedford, "talking about the things of God." Bunyan's attention was arrested by language which was altogether new to him, and which he heard, but under- stood not. What especially struck him was, that they conversed about the matters of religion "as if joy did 20 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS make them speak," and "as if they had fomid a new world." .... "At this," he says, " I felt my own heart begin to shake, and mistrust my condition to be naught." When he left them to go about his employment, their talk and discourse went with him, while his heart tarried behind ; for, he says, " I was greatly affected with their words, both because by them I was convinced that I wanted the true tokens of a truly godly man, and also because by them I was convinced of the happy and blessed condition of him that was such a one." These poor women were members of a small Baptist congregation at Bedford, who had for their pastor a man whose religious history is not less remarkable than that of Bunyan himself. Formerly a major in the king's army, and having narrowly escaped execution as a rebci, John Gifford had come a stranger to Bedford, where he practised physic ; leading, at the same time, the genuine life of a cavalier. Profligate and reckless, a drunkard, a gambler, and abominably profane, he entertained the most savage hatred of all Puritans. Yet was this man, when in a state of desperation occasioned by losses from gambling, " startled into a sense of his real condition" by meeting with one of the works of Robert Bolton; the perusal of which, after a mental conflict of some weeks, wrought a cure of his diseased mind and heart; and, joining himself to the company of those whom he had formerly most despised, he became at length their chosen pastor. From the members of this little flock, Bunyan received the first elements of evangelical instruction ; and the more he went among these poor people, to whom he had been thus casually introduced, the more he questioned his own con- dition, and the more his heart was softened " under the conviction of what, by scripture, they asserted." His mind now became earnestly fixed upon eternity, and almost absorbed with things relating to the kingdom of heaven: but still his knowledge was that of infancy. Of this he was now humbly conscious, and a wise distrust of himself drove him to his knees. About this time he met with OF JOHN BUNYAN. 21 some publications of the Ranters ; a sect whose tenets would appear, from Baxter's accomit, to have been a com- pound of the Quaker mysticism and the grossest practical Antinomianism. The works alluded to were "highly in esteem" among a certain class; and they were, probably, at once specious and mystical, for Banyan was not able to understand them sufficiently to form any judgment about them. He therefore betook himself to hearty prayer in this manner: "0 Lord, I am a fool, and not able to know the truth from error : Lord, leave me not to my own blindness, either to approve of, or condemn this doctrine : if it be of God, let me not despise it ; if it be of the devil, let me not embrace it. Lord, I lay my soul in this matter only at thy foot; let me not be deceived, I humbly beseech thee." Such a prayer as this was never denied. " Blessed be God," continues Bunyan, "who put it into my heart to cry to him to be kept and directed, still distrusting my own wisdom ; for I have since seen even the effects of that prayer, in his preserving me not only from Ranting errors, but from those also that have sprung up since. The Bible was precious to me in those days. And now, methought, I began to look into the Bible with new eyes, and read as I never did before ; and especially the Epistles of the Apostles were sweet and pleasant to me ; and indeed then I was never out of the Bible, either by reading or meditation ; still crying out to God, that I might know the truth and way to heaven and glory." Bunyan's preservation from these seducing and fatal errors was the more remarkable, as his most intimate reli- gious companion, the poor man whose "pleasant talk" of the Scriptures first led him to take to reading the Bible, about this time turned " a most devilish Ranter :" in fact, from the account given of him, he must have become both atheist and libertine. Shocked at his abominable prin- ciples, Bunyan at once broke off all intercourse with him. But he was also thrown into the company of several others, who, though formerly strict in religion, were also drawn away by these Ranters, and who endeavoured to instil their 22 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS fanatical tenets into the as yet ill-furnished mind of our poor novice. Although he escaped the snare, he was, for a long time, greatly harassed with the anxious doubts, the scriptural problems, and the practical difficulties which beset the path of religious inquiry along v/hich he was groping his solitary way. " Tossed betwixt the devil and his own ignorance," he was sometimes so perplexed that he could not tell what to do. He had no friend to advise with, no spiritual guide to set him right. While in this state of mind, the happiness of the poor people at Bedford was presented to him in a kind of vision — a waking dream ; or, perhaps, during actual slumber, such as will often for a few moments unconsciously suspend the voluntary action of an exhausted mind. Whether dream or reverie, it left a powerful impression ; and in it. Dr. Southey thinks, '•the germ of the Pilgrim's Progress may plainly be per- ceived.'' May we not rather say, the germinating of that imagination which was afterwards to ripen into genius? "I saw," says Bunyan, "as if they were on the sunny side of some high mountain, there refreshing themselves with the pleasant beams of the sun, while I was shivering and shrinking in the cold, afflicted with frost, snow, and dark clouds. Methought also, betwixt me and them I saw a wall that did compass about this mountain. Now, through this wall my soul did gready desire to pass, concluding that, if I could, I would even go into the very midst of them, and there also comfort myself with the heat of their sun. About this wall, I bethought myself to go again and again, still prying as I went, to see if I could find some way or passage by which I might enter therein; but none could I find for some time. At the last I saw, as it were, a narrow gap, like a little doorway in the wall, through which I attempted to pass. Now, the passage being very strait and narrow, I made many efforts to get in, but all in vain, even until I was well nigh quite beat out by striving to get in. At last, with grceat striving, methought I at first did get in my head, and after that, by a sideling striv- ing, my shoulders and my whole body. Then I was OF JOHN BUNYAN. 23 exceeding glad, went and sat down in the midst of them, and so was comforted with the light and heat of their sun. Now this momitain and wall, &c. were thus made out to me. The mountain signified the church of the living God ; the sun that shone thereon, the comfortable shining of his mer- ciful face on them that were therein ; the wall, I thought, was the Word, that did make separation between the Chris- tian and the world ; and the gap which was in the wall I thought, was Jesus Christ, who is the way to God the Father But forasmuch as the passage was wonderful narrow, even so narrow that I could not but with great diificulty enter in thereat ; it showed me that none could enter into life, but those that were in downright earnest, and unless also they left that wicked world behind them; for here was only room for body and soul, but not for body and soul and sin." This resemblance "abode many days" upon his spirit, exciting a " vehement desire to be one of that number who did sit in the sunshine." Yet more than a year appears to have elapsed before he could take courage to disclose the state of his feelings to those poor people at Bedford. When he did, they introduced him to their pastor, who invited Bunyan to his house, and had some conversation with him, but evidently had not penetration enough to discover the character of the extraordinary man thus brought under his notice. In the meanwhile, and for a long time after this interview, Bunyan's mind, being left to prey upon itself, was overclouded with the deepest spiritual distress. The workings of his thoughts during this fiery ordeal, of which he has given so vivid a description, were, no doubt, of that morbid character which any deep-seated anxiety or intense emotion is apt to assume, when the mind begins to act upon the body, and physical effects react upon mental operations. Dr. Southey has been pleased to describe this stage of Bunyan's experience as "a burning and feverish enthusiasm," during which he was "shaken continually by the hot and cold fits of a spiritual ague." That his imagi- nation " was wrought to a state of excitement, in which 24 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS its own shapings became vivid as realities, and affected him more forcibly than impressions from the external world," is, we admit, very apparent. But there was nothing fac- titious in Bunyan's feelings, nothing mireasonabie in his anxieties, nothing enthusiastic, in his creed. If, for the time, the calm exercise of his understanding, not suffi- ciently fortified by religious knowledge, was overborne by the morbid action of his imagination, this natural effect of over-excited feelings under a real and rational cause, is not to be confounded with the hallucinations of a distempered intellect. "Where there is no error of the imagination, no misjudging of realities, no calculations which reason condemns, there," it has been remarked by a philosophical writer,* " is no enthusiasm, even though the soul may be on fire with the velocity of its movement in pursuit of its chosen object." If this be a correct definition of the term, Bunyan was at no period of his history an enthusiast : his repelling the fanatical notions of the Ranters proves this. False notions, false by exaggeration, of the corruption of our nature, are supposed by Dr. Southey to have laid upon Bunyan's mind that heavy burden of distress, "heavy as that with which his own Christian begins his pilgrimage." But this remark is not warranted by any thing in the nar- rative, nor by the practical effect or tendency of those notions which Bunyan had derived from the Scriptures, — the main and almost only source of his knowledge. The "sense of inward and original pollution," which produced so much self-loathing and horrible despondency, could not have been produced by any doctrinal notion, true or false, but was an impression upon the spirit, such as only the mind that has been itself wounded can understand, and He who made the spirit alone can heal. The source of such feelings lies deeper in human nature than this world's phi- losophy can reach. But when we find a similar feeling of self-loathing and abasement seizing upon the minds of the hol>- man of Uz and the rapt Isaiah, under a sense of the * Natural History of Enthusiasm, p. 7. OF JOHN BUNYAN. 25 Divine purity and majesty, surely it were wise to hesitate before we rashly ascribe mental distress of this character either to enthusiastic and fallacious notions, or to physical distemper. Despondency, indeed, does not consist with a healthful state of mind; and religious despondency is inconsistent with right views of the gospel, which forbids any one to despair of the Divine mercy. Religion is not the cause of despondency more than it is of unbelief, or than light is the cause of blindness. We may admit, how- ever, that such states of distress involve both mental and moral infirmity. The pressure upon the spirit produces, if ^e may so express it, a temporary paralysis of the judg- ment, and the heart labours under a terrible nightmare. We exclude from consideration how far, in such cases, the mind may be acted upon from without itself, and external suggestions add to the terror and agitation of the spirit. But we cannot forbear to remark, that such periods of mental darkness and agitation, if not to be viewed as direct inflictions, are often permitted and overruled for the pur- poses of moral discipline. The Saviour himself " suffered being tempted." This is the proper light in which to view Bunyan's religious experience. He was allowed for a while to wrestle alone, and in the dark, that he might come forth from the conflict the stronger and better man. In the language of an able critic already referred to, "the Spirit of God was his teacher ; the very discipline of his intellect was a spiritual disciphne ; the conflicts that his soul sus- tained with the powers of darkness, were the sources of his intellectual strength."* During this severe probation, he was, to use his own expressive language, "led from truth to truth by God ; for never did any one owe less to * North American Review, No. LXXIX. art. Southey's Life of Bunyan. " We incline to think," says the Reviewer, " that Southey, with all his talent, is incapable of fully appreciating a character of such directness and originality as that of Bunyan, or of doing justice to the workings of his mind. It would have been the truth, as well as the better philosophy, if he had said, that the Spirit of God was preparing Bunyan, by this severe discipline, to send forth into the world the Pilgrim's Progress." D U(5 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS human teaching." What other men learn from books, he, with the aid only of his Bible, spelt out and put together by the light from heaven that irradiated his darkness. He was educated by this severe process of thought; and the coarse, boisterous, ignorant, profane rustic became trans- formed like his own pilgrim, who, after emerging from the slough of despond, lost his burden and his rags together at the foot of the Cross. He was beginning to emerge from these " temptations," when a translation of Luther's Commentary on the Epistle to the Galatians fell into his hands ; an old copy, so tattered that it was ready to fall to pieces if he did but turn it over. He had not read far, before he found his own condition " so largely and profoundly handled," and his own expe- rience so faithfully mirrored, in its pages, that it seemed as if the book had been " written out of his own heart." Such a book he had longed to meet with ; and it had for the time the happiest effect upon his mind. In writing his Narrative long afterv/ards, he declares his preference of this work of Martin Luther's above all others that he had ever seen, the Bible alone excepted, as "most fitted for a wounded conscience." Dr. Southey finds or imagines a resemblance between "the passionate and mighty mind of Luther," and that of Bunyan. "Like Luther, he had undergone the agonies of unbelief and deadly fear, and, according to his own persuasion, wrestled with the Enemy." But here the parallel begins and terminates. Both were men of powerful imagination, but of opposite spirit and very different mental temperament. The peaceful assurance and serene composure to which Bunyan had now attained, were not of long continuance ; and the state of mind into which he relapsed, is characterized by Dr. Southey, not without some reason, as "the strangest part of his history." " An almost unimaginable tempta- tion came upon him, which," remarks the learned Biogra- pher, "he might well call more grievous and dreadful than any with which he had before been afflicted :" it was, " to sell and part with Christ, — to exchange him for the things OF JOHN BUNYAN. .27 of this life, — for any thing." For the space of a year, he was haunted by this strange and hateful suggestion; and so continually, that he was not rid of it one day in a month, nor sometimes one hour in many succeeding days, unless in his sleep. Such is Bunyan's own account, who attributes the suggestion to the immediate agency of the Tempter; and he describes the series of assaults to which he believed himself to be exposed from the Enemy of souls, with a vividness of language which reminds us of his descrip- tion of Christian's allegorical combat with Apollyon. The task of a biographer, in referring to this stage of Bunyan's mental history, becomes one of extreme delicacy, as it requires him to touch upon points of inscrutable mystery. The origin of our thoughts must ever remain beyond the reach of discovery. That they ordinarily obey the law of association, every one must be aware ; and this is doubtless the case in a thousand instances where the connecting link is not perceived. But sometimes a thought will present itself with all the effect of an extraneous suggestion, clothed, it may be, in words which the mind does not recognize as of its own coining; just as, in dreams, we seem to be present at conversations, and mingle with persons whose features are those of strangers. Under ordinary states of feeling, such thoughts come and go with- out being questioned as to their origin, and leave but a faint, if any impression. The apparent suggestion may be trivial or ludicrous. But most persons of reflective habits will recollect occasions on which actions and events of the great- est moment to themselves, hinged upon some thought that seemed to dart into their minds, perhaps with astonishing suddenness and vividness. Such an occurrence of thought, not less than any external occurrence, a devout man would not hesitate to ascribe to the overruling and all-pervading providence of God ; and it matters nothing, in this point of view, whether we regard such thoughts as proceeding from the natural operation of reflection, or as imparted to the mind. Those persons, however, who acknowledge that from God "all holy desires and all good counsels pro- 28 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS ceed," must believe that our minds and hearts are open tc an ordinary inspiration, not less real, and perhaps not more imperceptible in its mode of influencing us, than the extra- ordinary and plenary inspiration under which the prophets and apostles spoke and wrote "as they were moved by the Holy Ghost." The holy Scriptures, moreover, not only contain the promise of such heavenly inspiration as the source of wisdom and consolation, but they very plainly intimate that evil thoughts, while the natural produce of the human heart, are sometimes the result of an inspiration of an evil and malignant character. The conception of crime in the mind of Judas, and of Ananias, is distinctly referred to Satanic influence operating upon the heart, yet so as not to interfere, any more than human suasion, with conscious responsibility. No violence is done to the mind in either case, more than by involuntary dreams, or by the social influences which are perpetually governing and modifying our thoughts and actions, but of which we can no more detect the actual operation, than we can that of the atmosphere upon our bodily functions; and it must, therefore, be impossible to discriminate between the spon- taneous action of the thoughts, and the good or evil inspi- ration, except by the reflex act of the judgment. Many persons of enthusiastic temperament have, no doubt erro- neously, ascribed to a foreign influence, the natural though unrecognized suggestions of their own minds; especially when the mind itself was in a morbid state. The impossi- bility of detecting the true source of what may be termed morbid thoughts, is beautifully illustrated by Bunyan him- self, than whom no man, perhaps, ever suff'ered more agony of spirit from these internal visitations. In describing Christian's passing through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, in which the Pilgrim was "worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon," — evidently referring to what he himself suffered after having obtained a victory over the temptation to infidelity, — Bunyan says : " One thing 1 would not let slip. I took notice that now poor Christian was so confounded, that he did not know his own voice ; and OF JOHN BUNYAN. 29 thus 1 perceived it. Just when he was come over-against tlie mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it than any thing that he met with before, even to think that he should now blaspheme him that he loved so much before : yet, if he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had not the discre- tion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence these blasphemies came." Since, however. Christian could not ascertain this by any thing of which he was conscious at the time, the knowledge that these grievous blasphemies were suggested by the wicked one, must have been obtained only by inference from their evil character and their repugnance to the mind. But, although knowledge obtained by inference, may be as certain as that which is derived from consciousness, there is some room to question, in the present case, the sound- ness of the deduction. Unless we were prepared to con- tend that all evil thoughts which spring up in the mind, and yet are repugnant to the feelings and judgment, so as to be condemned and rejected with abhorrence, have a source foreign to the imagination, and that the mind cannot be the author of any thoughts which affect it with this sense of contrariety and aversion, and of which it would fain rid itself, — unless, too, dreams of a painful description, and contrary to the tenor of the waking thoughts, are in like manner to be accounted for only by the same external and supernatural agency, — we must require some stronger reason for ascribing wicked and blasphemous thoughts to infernal inspiration, in any particular case, than their hateful character. That they may have this origin is very possible. Yet, their very contrariety to the mind of the individual supplies a reason against the supposition. All heavenly inspiration is congenial with the holy character of those who have been the recipients and organs of the Divine communi- 30 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS cations ; and so far as Scripture throws any light upon the awful fact, it would appear that Satanic inspiration is, in like manner, congenial with the character of its victims; that it is in every case a concurrent impulse, and not either compulsive or repugnant. It may be urged, that our blessed Lord was himself tempted by the suggestions of Satan ; suggestions infinitely repugnant to his holy nature ; but these were both external to his mind, and such as partook of the nature of rational inducements to specific actions. The force of the temptation lay in the apparent reasonableness of the insidious counsel, and in the strength of the inducements ; and where there is no appeal to rational motives, there can be no temptation. Nothing can surely be more improper, than to confound, under a common term, the mere phantasmagoria of the imagination, and the real transactions of the evangelical history. Bunyan, in his autobiographical narrative, does indeed describe the horrible but irrational thought that was ever running in his mind, as " a temptation :" but where was the bait ? Had the prospect of worldly advantage been held out to him on the condition of renouncing his creed, or violating his allegiance to the Saviour; had he, in the face of worldly scorn or fiery persecution, been prompted to deny the faith ; or had some dishonest gain been within his reach while struggling with penury ;^here would have been a temptation. But in the case described, the assault, the suggestion, and the seeming compliance with the ab- horred blasphemy, were all ideal, without motive, and con- trary to reason. The suffering and distress only were real ; and these constituted a trial of the sharpest kind, a dis- cipline of fearful severity ; just as any other species of physical or mental suffering might have proved. We see no reason, then, to deny, that the state of dark- ness into which Bunyan was plunged, arose from that distempered action of the imagination which is the ordi- nary effect of over-excitement. Nothing is a more common characteristic of bodily disease, than that the parts affected shall take on an action the very reverse of their natural OF JOHN BUNYAN. 31 and healthful condition. Something analogous to this has been observed in cases of mental disorder. It is, therefore, quite conceivable, that the distempered mind should give birth to monstrous thoughts, irrational, abhorrent, yet on that very account the more fixed and unmanageable, burn- ing themselves into the memory by the pain they inflict, and possessing the imagination as with an external pre- sence. In cases of decided insanity, this is known to take place. But there are diseased conditions of the frame, not amounting to insanity, in which the imagination is dis- tempered, but there is no delirium ; in which unreasonable ideas have hold of the mind, but there is no eclipse of the controlling judgment ; there are involuntary impressions, but no involuntary decisions : in such conditions, which, how nearly soever they approximate to insanity, are clearly distinguishable from it, a morbid action of the thoughts, such as Bunyan describes, would be the natural effect of physical causes. How far bodily disease, and especially mental distemper, may be the result of the malignant agency of that being to whom Bunyan ascribed his " temp- tation," is a distinct question. The history of the patriarch Job, and some intimations in other parts of the inspired volume, have led many learned and pious persons to enter- tain the belief that, with the Divine permission, evil spirits may be the instruments of immediately afflicting those whom they cannot tempt or morally injure. We make no concession to the infidel, when we refuse to ascribe to supernatural suggestions, phenomena which admit of a simpler explanation, and which it is most important to distinguish from the moral conflict that every Christian is called to sustain with the seductions of the world, and the temptations of the great Enemy. "Had it been the Romish superstition which Bunyan had imbibed," remarks Dr. Southey, " he might have vied with P. Dominic the Cuirassier, or the Jesuit Joam d' Almeida, in inflicting torments upon his own miserable body." But Bunyan was never a self-tormentor ; his mind was free from superstition; and the sound views of the 32 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS Christian doctrine which he had embraced, and to whicli he adhered through this long ordeal of suffering, at once attested the sanity of his judgment, and preserved it. During the two years and a half of almost incessant agi- tation and despondency that he passed, the Scriptures afforded the only balm to his wounded spirit; and he recounts, among the advantages which he gained by this " temptation," that he was " made to see more into the nature of the promises" than ever he had seen before. " The Scriptures also were wonderful things to me : I saw that the truth and verity of them were the keys of the kingdom of heaven. . . . Now I saw the apostles to be the elders of the city of refuge. Those that they were to receive in, were received to life ; but those that they shut out, were to be slain by the avenger of blood. . . . Woe be to him against whom the Scriptures bend themselves !" Thus was he led to search the Bible, and to dwell upon it, with an earnestness and intensity of feeling which no deter- mination of a calmer mind could have commanded. " If," remarks Dr. Southey, "in the other writings of Bunyan, and especially in that which has made his name immortal, we discover none of that fervid language in which his confessions and self-examination are recorded, — none of those 'thoughts that breathe, and words that burn,' — none of that passion, in which the reader so far participates as to be disturbed and distressed by it, — here we perceive how he acquired that thorough and familiar acquaintance with the Scriptures, which in those works is manifested." Even the strongest constitution would be likely to give way under the effects of such long-continued mental excite- ment and suffering; and not unfrequently, as the mind recovers its tone, the body begins to betray the insidious mischief. Symptoms of a pulmonary kind appeared in Bunyan, shortly after he had attained to a happier state of feeling, and had been admitted to fellowship with the con- gregation at Bedford under Mr. Gifford's pastoral care. The weakness to which he was suddenly reduced by a violent increase of these symptoms, was so extreme, that OF JOHN BUNYAN. 33 he thought he could not Hve. Again the clouds returned, j and darkened his spirit; but he was soon waked out of / his despondency by the voice • of the Scripture, and the fear of death vanished before the assurance of the free mercy of God. " Now," he says, " death was lovely and beautiful in my sight ; for I saw we shall never live indeed, till we be gone to the other world. Oh ! methought this life is but a slumber in comparison with that above. At this time also, I saw more in these words, ' Heirs of God,' (Rom. viii. /1 7,) than ever I shall be able to express while I live in this world." At another time, when he was extremely ill and weak, those words in the fifteenth chapter of the First Epistle to the Corinthians, " 0 death ! where is thy sting?" &c,, fell with such force upon his mind, that he " became well both in body and mind at once ;" his sickness did presently vanish, and he "walked comfortably again in" his " work for God." The close connexion between these returns of gloom and seizures of physical weakness, is evident from his own narrative ; but there is nothing very uncommon in the cure of physical malady by moral remedies. Joy is a powerful restorative to the animal spirits; and this is emphatically true of spiritual joy. Bunyan was admitted a member of the Baptist church at Bedford, in the year 1653, when he was only twenty-five years of age. Mr. Gifford, the pastor, died in 1655. It would appear that, prior to his decease, Bunyan had been prevailed upon, once or twice, to address a few words of exhortation to the members of the society at their private assemblies. After this, he was induced, occasionally, to accompany some of them that went into the adjacent villages to teach ; " where," he says, " though as yet I did not, nor durst not, make use of my gift in an open way, yet more privately, still, as I came amongst the good people in those places, I did sometimes speak a word of admonition unto them also. At last, being still desired by the church, after some solemn prayer with fasting, I was more particularly called forth and appointed to a more ordinary and public preaching of the word, not only to and amongst E 34 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS them that beheved, but also to offer the gospel to those who had not yet received the faith thereof." Bunyan cannot be charged with having thrust himself into noto- riety, nor with having rashly assumed the function of a public teacher. He entered upon the probationary exercise of his " gift in a public way," with diffidence and fear ; and only by degrees acquired that consciousness of his qualifications which led him to believe that he was called to the work. In this, as in all other matters, he was not satisfied till he had ascertained that his conduct had the sanction of scriptural directions ; and he has specified the passages of the New Testament which animated and encou- raged him in complying with the desires of his pious friends.* His preaching could not fail to attract great attention ; and no sooner had the rumour spread, than, as he tells us, " they came in to hear the word by hundreds, and that from all parts, though upon divers and sundry accounts." He was now so constantly employed in these itinerant labours, that, upon being nominated as deacon of the Bedford congregation in the ensuing year, the church declined to elect him to that office, on the ground that he was thus too much engaged to attend to its duties. In the mean time, he continued to work with his own hands for his living and the maintenance of his family, as he had opportunity. In referring to the work in which he was engaged, he says, " I have been in my preaching, especially when I have been engaged in the doctrine of life by Christ without works, as if an angel of God had stood by at my back to encourage me. Oh ! it hath been with such power and heavenly evidence upon my own soul, while I have been labouring to unfold it, to demonstrate it, and to fasten it upon the consciences of others, that I could not be contented with saying, «I believe, and am sure;" methought I was more than sure (if it be lawful to ex- * The following are the passages cited in his own narrative : — 1 Cor. xvi. 15, 16. Acts viii. 4; xviii. 24, 25. 1 Pet. iv. 10. Rom. xii. 6. Also, subsequently to his meeting with instances of success, 2 Cor. ii. 2, end 1 Cor. ix. 2. OF JOHN BUNYAN. 35 press myself,) that those things which then I asserted, were true. "When I have been preaching, I thank God, my heart hath often all the time with great earnestness cried to God that he would make the word effectual to the salvation of the soul ; still being grieved lest the enemy should take the word away from the conscience, and so it should be- come unfruitful; wherefore I should labour so to speak the word, as that thereby, if it were possible, the sin and person guilty might be particularised by it." But his labours were viewed with a jealous eye, and awakened opposition. To quote his own language, "When I first went to preach the word abroad, the doctors and priests of the country did open wide against me ; but I was persuaded of this, not to render railing for railing; but to see how many of their carnal professors I could convince of their miserable state by the law, and of the want and worth of Christ; for, thought I, This shall answer for me in time to come, tuhen they shall be for m,y hire before their face.^'* His "great desire in fulfilling his ministry," he tells us, " was to get into the darkest places of the country," and to preach the gospel where Christ was not named. He " never cared to meddle with things controverted." " It pleased me much," he says, " to contend with great earnestness for the word of faith, and the remission of sins by the death and sufferings of Jesus ; but, as to other things, I would let them alone, because I saw they engendered strife." This wise and modest course could not, however, screen him either from being regarded as an intruder by the intolerant, or from being grossly calumniated by the ignorant and mali- cious, who sought, by aspersing .his moral character, to cause his ministry to be abandoned. It was rumoured, that he was "a witch, a Jesuit, a highwayman," and a libertine. These "lies and slanders," says Bunyan, "I * The Editor of the American edition has taken the liberty to substitute t)»e language of Bunyan himself for certain irrelevant remarks of the author 6*" this biography. 36 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS bind to me as an ornament; it belongs to my Christian profession to be vilified, slandered, reproached, and revilea , and since all this is nothing else, as my God and my con- science do bear me witness, I rejoice in reproaches foi Christ's sake." But he was destined to have his constancy and fortitude put to a severer test : " honds and imprisonment awaited him." He had "for five or six years, without any inter- ruption, freely preached the gospel," when, in November, 1660, he was taken up by a warrant from a justice named Wingate, at a place called Samsell in Bedfordshire, at which he had been invited to preach ; the justice having resolved, as he said, to " break the neck of such meetings." The mittimus ran to this eflect : " That he went about to several conventicles in the county, to the great disparage- ment of the government of the church of England," &c. Such was one of the first-fruits of the Restoration ! Dr. Southey, willing to palliate the conduct of his persecutors, insinuates, that " he was known to be hostile to the restored church, and that probably it might be remembered that he had served in the Parliament's army." Of the former, there is no evidence ; and the latter is a gratuitous con- jecture, which, if admitted, would only give a more despi- cably vindictive character to the proceedings. The fact appears to be, that his old enemies took advantage of the change in the Government, to execute their long-cherished purpose in putting a stop to his preaching ; and that, had the state of the law admitted of it, he would have met with the same treatment under Cromwell, from the same parties, that he did under Charles. One of the party con- cerned in these proceedings, a Dr. Lindale, is described by Bunyan as "an old enemy to the truth," who, on hearing of the Tinker's apprehension, came in, and fell to taunting of him "with many reviling terms." Bunyan, however, was a match for his accusers, as well in ready wit as in scriptural argument. And when this Dr. Lindale, alluding to his calling, said, that " he remembered reading of one Alexander, a coppersmith, who did much oppose and disturb OF JOHN BUNYAN. 37 the apostles;" Bimyan replied, that "he also had read of many priests and pharisees that had their hands in the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ." "Aye," rejoined Lindale, " and you are one of those scribes and pharisees ; for you, with a pretence, make long prayers, to devour widows' houses." He received for answer, that if he (Dr. L.) had got no more by preaching and praying than Bunyan had, he would not be so rich as he was. Bunyan had notice of the intention to arrest him, and might have eluded the writ ; and after being taken before the magistrate, he might have obtained his discharge, if he would have pro- mised to leave off preaching, and keep to his calling. But his conscience would not allow him to make any such engagement. He was accordingly committed to gaol. After he had lam there five or six days, some of his friends offered bail for his appearance at the sessions ; but the magistrate to whom they applied, refused to take it. Some seven weeks after his apprehension, the quarter sessions were held at Bedford, and Bunyan was brought up for examination before the justices. The bill of indictment preferred against him, was under the act of the 35th Elizabeth, and ran to this effect : " That John Bunyan, of the town of Bedford, labourer, being a person of such and such conditions, hath devilishly and perniciously abstained from coming to church to hear divine service, and is a common upholder of several unlawful meetings and con- venticles, to the great disturbance and distraction of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to the laws of our sovereign lord the king," and so forth. Upon this being read, he was asked by the justices what he had to say to it. Not aware that he had been indicted, Bunyan readily admitted that he did not attend the parish church, and that he did attend private meetings at which he preached : he also entered into a defence of his conduct upon scriptural grounds, by Avhich he only drew down upon himself the coarse invectives of his judges. " Who is your God, Beelzebub ?" said one of the justices ; and they repeatedly said, that he was possessed of the devil. At the close of J 38 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS this memorable examination, his answers being taken down as a confession of guilt, without any other trial, without the verdict of a jury, he was sentenced in the following terms : " You must be had back again to prison, and there lie for three months following ; and at the three months' end, if you do not submit to go to church to hear divine ser- vice, and leave your preaching, you must be banished the realm ; and if you be found to come over again without special license from the king, you must be stretched by the neck for it, I tell you plainly," said the judge : and so he bade the jailor remove his prisoner. Bunyan resolutely answered, that if he were out of prison to-day, he would preach the gospel again to-morrow, by the help of God. Of the propriety of Bunyan's conduct in refusing to desist from preaching, different opinions will be formed. Dr. Southey, as might be anticipated, takes a decided part with his judges ; giving it as his opinion, that in none of Bunyan's writings " does he appear so little reasonable, or so little tolerant, as upon these examinations." In what his intolerance consisted, is not very apparent ; but the learned biographer possibly refers to honest John's objec- tion to using the common-prayer-book, as not being of divine authority. In proof that he was unreasonable, it is urged, that " " he was neither called upon to renounce any thing that he did believe, nor to profess any thing that he did not ; that the congregation to which he belonged, held at this time their meetings unmolested ; that he might have worshipped when he pleased, where he pleased, and how he pleased ; and that he was only required not to go about the country holding conventicles."* The extreme disino:enuousness of this statement will be evident when it * Dr. Southey adds : " The cause for that interdiction was, not that persons were admonished in such conventicles to labour for salvation, but that they were exhorted there to regard with abhorrence tliat Protestant church v/hich is essentially part of the constitution of this kingdom." An assertion imbody- ing an historical misrepresentation and a calumny, and which would serve just as well to justify the persecution of Dissenters in the present day. If the conventicle act was right, the toleration act was wrong. OF JOHN BUNYAN. 39 IS recollected, that the statute under which he was indicted, rendered his nonconformity itself a crime ; that . his abstain- ing from coming to church was placed in the front of his offence ; and that he was not only required to profess what, in him, would have been hypocrisy, but to renounce what he believed to be his sacred duty. " Sir," said Bunyan, in a subsequent examination, to the clerk of the peace, who tried to persuade him to forbear awhile, — "Wicliff saith, that he who leaveth off preaching and hearing of the word of God for fear of excommunication of men, he is already excommunicated of God, and shall in the day of judgment be counted a traitor to Christ." When reminded that the Scripture enjoined obedience to the powers that be, his answer was : " That Paul did own the powers that were in his day to be of God ; and yet he was often in prison under them, for all that; and also, though Jesus Christ told Pilate that he had no power against him, but of God, yet he died under the same Pilate. And yet," (he added,) "I hope you will not say that either Paul or Christ were such as did deny magistracy, and so sinned against God in slighting the ordinance. Sir, the law hath provided two ways of obeying : the one, to do that which I in my conscience do believe I am bound to do actively ; and where I cannot obey actively, there I am willing to lie down, and to suffer what they shall do unto me." Such was the " unreasonable" character of his defence ; and because it was, in the opinion of the apologist for Laud,* unreasonable, Bunyan, we have been told, " is most wrong- fully represented as having been the victim of intolerant laws and prelatical oppression." Yet, it is admitted, that he evinced at least the strength of will and strength of heart, the fortitude and the patience of a martyr. Noi was it without a painful conflict of emotions that he made up his mind to the consequences of his firmness, as we learn from the touching expression of his feelings during • And biographer of Wesley, whom, but for the Toleration-act, the same rtatute would have condemned to incarceration and exile. 40 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS imprisonment, contained in his Narrative. «I foimd myself," he says, " a man encompassed with infirmities : the parting Avith my wife and poor children hath often been to me in this place as the pulling the flesh from the bones; and that not only because I am somewhat too fond of these great mercies, but also because I should have often brought to my mind the many hardships, miseries, and wants that my poor family was likely to meet with, should I be taken from them; especially my poor blind child, who lay nearer my heart than all beside. Oh ! the thoughts of the hardship I thought my poor blind one might go under, would break my heart to pieces. Poor child ! thought I, what sorrow art thou hke to have for thy portion in this world ! Thou must be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, nakedness, and a thousand cala- mities, though I cannot now endure the wind should blow upon thee. But yet, recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all with God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you." The summary punishment which the justices had inflicted upon Bunyan, was not only an act of gross oppression, but obviously a stretch of the law, both as he was apprehended before there had been any proclamation against the meet- ings, upon a statute which had lain dormant, and as he was convicted upon a mere construction put upon his own words during examination. His detention in prison after- wards turned upon his having been thus irregularly con- victed. On the King's coronation, in April 1661, a general par- don was proclaimed; and thousands who had been com- mitted to prison for nonconformity and other offences, were set at liberty. " In which privilege," says Bunyan, " I should also have had my share, but they took me for a convicted person; and, therefore, unless I sued out a pardon, as they called it, I could have no benefit thereby." Bunyan, therefore, was still detained ; and at the next assizes, in August 1661, that he might leave no lawful means of escape unattempted, he did, by his wife, present OF JOHN BUNYAN. 41 a petition to the judges, three times, that he might be heard, and his case taken into consideration. Sir Matthew Hale was one of these judges; and it appears from Mrs. Banyan's testimony, as preserved in the Narrative, that, on receiving the petition, he expressed a wilUngness to do for her the best he could, but feared that nothing could be done ; and on being assured by one of the justices who had committed Bunyan, that ^e was a hot-spirited fellow, he waved the matter, and declined interfering. Encou- raged, however, by the high sheriff, to make another effort before the judges left the town, Elizabeth Bunyan, who seems to have imbibed a portion of her husband's spirit, again made her way, " with a bashed face and a trembling heart," into the judges' chamber. Addressing herself to Judge Hale, she pleaded the unlawfulness of his convic- tion ; urging that she had been told in London by a noble- man, to whom she had delivered a petition to the House of Lords on her husband's behalf, that his releasement was committed to the judges at the next assizes. "And now," she said, «I am come to you, to see if any thing may be done in this business, and you give neither releasement nor relief." "My Lord," said Justice Chester, "he is a pestilent fellow ; there is not such a fellow in the country again." "Will your husband leave preaching?" said Judge Twisdon : " if he will do so, then send for him." " My Lord," replied Elizabeth Bunyan, " he dares not leave preaching, as long as he can speak." " See here !" exclaimed the last-mentioned judge; "what should we talk any more about such a fellow ? Must he do what he lists? He is a breaker of the peace." "He desires to hve peaceably, my Lord," rejoined Mrs. Bunyan, "and to follow his calling, that his family may be maintained. Moreover," she added, "I have four small children that cannot help themselves, one of which is blind ; and we have nothing to live upon but the charity of good people." "Hast thou four children?" said Judge Hale: "thou art but a young woman to have four children." "My Lord," said she, " I am but mother-in-law to them, having not F 42 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS been married to him yet two full years." She proceeded to add, that she was near her confinement when her hus- band was apprehended ; and that the shock brought on premature labour, and the child died. Upon hearing which, Judge Hale, looking very seriously, exclaimed, " Alas ! poor woman." Judge Twisdon brutally remarked, that she made poverty a cloak ; and that Bunyan was maintained better by running up and down preaching, than by following his calling. " What is his calling ?" asked Judge Hale. "A tinker, my Lord," said a bystander. " Yes," rejoined Elizabeth Bunyan, " and because he is a tinker and a poor man, therefore he is despised, and cannot have justice." There was truth in this blunt appeal, and Hale felt its force. "I tell thee, woman," he very mildly replied, " seeing it is so, that they have taken what thy hus- band spake for a conviction, thou must apply thyself to the king, or sue out his pardon, or get a writ of error." Justice Chester, on hearing the upright judge give her 'this counsel, could not conceal his vexation ; exclaiming, " My Lord, he will preach, and do what he lists." " He preach- eth nothing but the word of God," said his wife. "He preach the word of God !" said Twisdon in a rage ; " he runneth up and down, and doth harm." " No, my Lord," said she, " it is not so : God hath owned him, and done much good by him." "God !" said Twisdon, " his doctrine is the doctrine of the devil." " My Lord," once more replied this meek, yet spirited woman, " when the righteous Judge shall appear, it will be known that his doctrine is not the doctrine of the devil." There was no answering this ; and Twisdon, turning to Hale, begged him not to mind her, but to send her away. The Judge, evidently moved, said again to Mrs. Bunyan, in a tone of kindness : " I am sorry, woman, that I can do thee no good. Thou must do one of those three things aforesaid, namely, either to apply thyself to the king, or sue out his pardon, or get a writ of error ; but a writ of error will be the cheapest." Thus terminated this extraordinary scene. Elizabeth "lunyan left the court in tears ; " not so much," she OF JOHN BUNYAN. 43 declares, "because they were so hard-hearted against her and her husband, as from the thought, what a sad account such poor creatures will have to give at the coming of the Lord." How could she suppose that one of those judges was a man of saintly piety and integrity ! And how little did that judge suspect that the prisoner whose cause was thus pathetically pleaded, was destined by his writings to win to himself an everlasting name, as the guide of Chris- tian pilgrims to the heavenly city ! At the coming of the Lord, Hale and Bunyan will not be divided. Although, in the Pilgrim's Progress, there is nothing that can be construed into personal satire, its author must be supposed to have had his own case in vivid recollection, when he described the treatment which Christian and Faithful met with at Vanity Fair. The indictment of the pilgrims, if not a parody on the charges brought against Bunyan, conveys the same idea in allegorical terms : — "That they were enemies to and disturbers of the trade; that they had made commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince." The language of the witnesses, too, will recall the above exami- nation. " Envy. My lord, this man is one of the vilest men in the country ; he neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom; but doth all 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. " Superstitioii. My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge of hnn : however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that the other day I had with Inm m this town; for, then talking with him, I heard 44 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS him say, that our rehgion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means please God. ^^ Faithful. May I speak a few words in my own de- fence ? « Judge. Sirrah, sirrah ! thou deservest to live no longer, but to be slain immediately on the place. Yet, that all men may see our gentleness towards thee, let us hear what thou, vile runagate, hast to say. " Faithful. I say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never said aught but this; That what rule, or laws, or custom, or ipeople, 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. 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." There can be no doubt that it was upon such grounds as these, (whether valid or otherwise, this is not the place to inquire,) that Bunyan, in common with other noncon- formists, objected to the use, and still more to the imposi- tion, of the Book of Common Prayer. He tells us himself, that, on obtaining liberty from the gaoler, (who appears to have confided in him so far as to allow him to go at large upon his word,) he followed his wonted course of preaching, taking all occasions put into his hand to visit those who had attended upon his ministry; "exhorting them to be steadfast in the faith of Jesus Christ, and to take heed that they touched not the Common Prayer, &c.,* but to mind the word of God, which giveth direction to Chris * " An &c.," remarks Dr. Southey, " more full of meaning than that which occasioned the dishonest outcry against the &c. oath." Had the learned biographer printed the whole of the sentence, however, Bunyan's meaning OF JOHN BUNYAN. 45 tians in every point, being able to make the man of God perfect in all things, through faith in Jesus Christ, and thoroughly to furnish him unto all good works." The indul- gence at first allowed him, enabled him to be present at private meetings of the congregation at Bedford, in June and July, 1661, his name being found in the minutes of the church-book ; and once the gaoler permitted him to take a journey to London. Unfortunately, Bunyan's enemies heard of it, and his friendly gaoler, being threatened with the loss of his office, was compelled to keep his prisoner more close ; so that, says Bunyan, " I must not now look out of the door." He expected to be called to account at the ensu- ing assizes, in November 1661 ; but he was passed over. In January following, the assizes were again held ; and being anxious to come before the judges, he prevailed upon the gaoler to put down his name in the calendar; but his enemies prevented his being called to appear. Why no steps were taken in pursuance of Judge Hale's advice, does not appear from the Narrative ; and it has been surmised, that the means for defraying the legal expenses could not be raised. It might have been supposed that the object of his visit to London was connected with some effort to obtain the reversal of his sentence, as there would seem to have been otherwise no adequate motive for the risk he incurred ; but the Narrative contains no intimation of the kind. He now appears to have resigned himself to his fate. From there being no mention of his name at the church-meetings of the Bedford congregation from July 1661, to August 1668, it is inferred that, during these seven years, he was kept a close prisoner. As there was an end put to his v/orking at his craft, he learned to make tagged laces, and by this means contributed to support his family. Dr. Southey takes for granted, that their condition was not would liave been more evident from the exhortation to adhere to the Scrip- tures as the only and sufficient rule of faith. A jealousy for the exclusive authority of the word of God, the principle so manfully advocated by Chilling. worth, was the real source of the strong feeling manifested against both the Common Prayer and the et-cetera. 46 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS "worsened by his imprisonment," since it would render them " objects of compassion to their neighbours," and that Bunyan was, upon the whole, very comfortable in gaol. " He had the society there," he says, " of some who were suffering for the same cause ;"* he had his Bible, and his Book of Martyrs ; and he had leisure to brood over his own thoughts. Scanty materials of worldly comfort ; but how enviable the man who could extract happiness out of them ! Are any thanks due to his unjust persecutors, that " the Pilgrim's Progress was one of the fruits of his imprison- ment ?" " The oppressor holds His body bound ; but knows not what a range His spirit takes, unconscious of a chain ; And, that to bind him is a vain attempt, Whom God delights in, and in whom he dwells." — Cowper. Bunyan thus speaks of his own imprisonment: "I was had home to prison, and there have lain now complete twelve years, waiting to see what God would suffer these men to do with me.t In which condition I have continued with much content, through grace, but have met with many turnings and goings upon my heart;" the result of which, he adds, had been "much conviction, instruction, and * It is said, "there were never fewer than sixty dissenters in the prison with him during the period of his confinement; for, as some were discharged, others were committed. Two of these were ministers of the Baptist denomi- nation, Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Dunn." — Ivimey's Life of Bunyan. t Perhaps we are to understand Bunyan as meaning that he was imprisoned twelve years altogetiier. The Continuator of his Life states, tiiat he was imprisoned at first for six years, till, "the Act of Indulgence to Dissenters being allowed, he obtained his freedom by the intercession of some in trust and power, that took pity on his sufferings ; but within six years afterwards" — six days must be meant — "he was again taken up, viz. in the year 1666, and was then confined for six years more. . . When he was taken this last time, he was preaching on these words : ' Dost thou believe on the Son of God ?' And this imprisonment continued six years ; and when this was over, another short affliction, which was an imprisonment of half a year, fell to his share." "In the last year of his twelve years' imprisonment," it is added, " the pastor of the congregation at Bedford died ; and he was chosen to that care of souls on the 12th of December, 1671." OF JOHN BUNYAN. 47 understanding.' During the last four years of his im- prisonment— that is, from 1669 to 1672, inclusive — he enjoyed a considerable degree of liberty. From the entries in the Baptist church-book, he appears to have been regularly present at their social meetings; and in October 1671, though still a prisoner, he was elected to the office of co-pastor or elder of that community. Among the works written during his confinement, we find enumerated the following: — Of Prayer by the Spirit. The Holy City's Resurrection. Grace Abounding, (the autobiographical nar- rative so often referred to.) Pilgrim's Progress, Part I. Defence of the Doctrine of Justification, against Bishop Fowler. This last work is dated from prison, the 21st of the 11th month, 1671. The First Part of the Pilgrim's Progress is known to have been written during his imprisonment; but, as no extant copy of the first edition has hitherto been discovered, the year in which it was published remains uncertain. The date of the second edition, of which a copy is in the British Museum, is 1678. If, therefore, the work was published before his release, or even immediately after it, the sale must have been very slow and limited for some years after its appearance. But when once it had found its way into general circulation, edition after edition was rapidly called for. The eighth edition was published in 1682, the ninth in 1684, and the tenth in 1685.* In the mean time, several dishonest imitations of his work had appeared; * One passage of considerable length, the whole scene between Mr. By-ends and his three friends, and tlieir subsequent discourse with Cliristian and P'aith- fiil, was added after the second edition. Dr. Soutliey conjectures that it was first inserted in the fourth impression, "which had many additions more than any preceding." This is stated in an advertisement on the back of the frontis- piece to the eighth ; where it is also stated, that the publisher, "observino- that many persons desired to have it illustrated with pictures, hath endeavoured to gratify them therein ; and besides those that are ordinarily printed to the fifth impression, hath provided thirteen copper cuts, curiously engraven, for such as desire tiiem." No additions, Dr. Southey informs us, after collating the editions, were introduced subsequently to the eighth ; nor any alterations but verbal ones of slight importance. 48 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS some of them counterfeiting his popular title, others piir porting to be a second part. These interlopers may have furnished an additional inducement to Bunyan to put forth his own Continuation of the Parable, which appeared in January, 1684. In the poetical preface to this Second Part, he refers with honest satisfaction to the extensive reputa tion which his Pilgrim had attained : " In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, My Pilgrim is esteemed a friend, a brother. In Holland too, 'tis said, as I am told. My Pilgrim is, with some, worth more than gold. Highlanders and wild Irish can agree. My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 'Tis in New England under such advance. Receives there so much loving countenance. As to be trimmed, new clothed, and decked with gems, That it might show its features and its limbs. Yet more ; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk, That of him thousands daily sing and talk." In the same homely, yet not despicable lines, he refers to some of the objections which had been urged against the First Part: " But some there be that say. He laughs too loud ; And some do say, His head is in a cloud. Some things are of that nature as to make One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache. Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head. That doth but show his wisdom's covered With its own mantle." It is probable that Bunyan had already become known by his writings, when he obtained his release. How this was eifected, is not known; but, some time in 1672, a day of thanksgiving was observed by his flock, on the occasion of his deliverance. The author of the Continuation of his Life, appended to his own Narrative,* states, that "Dr. Barlow, the then bishop of Lincoln, and other churchmen," * Supposed to have been Mr. Charles Doe, a Baptist minister. He describes himself as " a true friend and long acquaintance of Mr. Bunyan's." OF JOHN BUNYAN. 49 had been "moved by his patience to pity his hard and unreasonable sufferings, so far as to stand very much his friends in procuring his enlargement." And the interfer- ence of Bishop Barlow has been ascribed, upon credible authority, to the intercession of Dr. John Owen. For this story there must be some foundation. Yet Barlow was not made a bishop till 1675;* and it may be questioned, whether, at that period, any thing short of a royal order could have secured to Bunyan the undisturbed enjoyment of his personal freedom and his liberty to preach. The Conventicle Act had been revived in 1670, in all its severity. Yet, shortly after his enlargement, Bunyan was enabled to build a meeting-house, by the voluntary contributions of his friends. In the church-book, it is entered : « 11 August, 1672, the ground on which the meeting-house stands was bought by subscription." Here he continued to preach to large audiences, without any material interruption. " In this charge," says the Continuator of his Narrative, " he often had disputes with scholars that came to oppose him, as supposing him an ignorant person ; and, though he argued plainly, and by scripture, without phrases and logical expressions, yet he nonplussed" them by his perti- nent answers. Every year he used to pay a visit to his friends in London, where his reputation as a preacher was so great, that " if but a day's notice were given, the meet- ing-house in Southwark, where he generally preached, would not hold half the people that attended. Three thou- sand persons have been gathered together for the purpose in a remote part of the town ; and no fewer than twelve hundred, on a dark winter's morning, at seven o'clock, even on week-days." Dr. Owen is stated to have been among his occasional auditors; and an anecdote is on record, that, being asked by Charles II., how a learned man such as he * See Orme's Life of Owen, p. 398. Mr. Orme confesses that he is unable to reconcile with this date the story told in Asty's Memoirs of Owen, and repeated by Mr. Ivimey, of Bishop Barlow's refusing to comply with Owen's request, without an order from the chancellor ; unless it refers to some subsequent impri- sonment. G 50 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS was, could sit and hear an illiterate tinker prate, he replied , "May it please your majesty, could I possess that tinker's abilities for preaching, I would most gladly relinquish all my learning."* The anecdote, if true, may be thought lO illustrate the modesty and generous candour of Owen, himself an accomplished pulpit orator, as much as the power of Bunyan's native eloquence; yet it is quite credi- ble, that Owen should prize above all his scholastic attain- ments, the native genius displayed by the uneducated preacher, in combination with the peculiar unction that appears to have characterized his ministry. " Even some to whom he had been misrepresented upon the account of his (want of) education," says the Continuator of his Nar- rative, " were convinced of his worth and knowledge in sacred things, as perceiving him to be a man of sound judgment, delivering himself plainly and powerfully ; inso- much tliat many who came spectators for novelty, rather than to be edified and improved, went away well satisfied with what they heard, and wondered, as the Jews did at the apostles, ' whence this man should have these things.' " Besides his annual visit to London, Bunyan occasionally visited other parts of the country ; " insomuch," says the same authority, " that some, by these visitations that he had made, which were two or three every year, (though in jeering manner, no doubt,) gave him the epithet of Bishop Bunyan; while others envied him for his so earnestly labouring in Christ's vineyard." The Baptist congregation at Hitchin, in Hertfordshire, is supposed to have been founded by him. Tiiere is a deep dell in a wood near the * Ivimey's History of the English Baptists, Vol. II. p. 41. Southey treats the anecdote as apocryphal, without assigning any other reason for his incredulity, than that such an opinion would be discreditable to Owen's judgment, if he really entertained it. Yet he remarks of the following anecdote, that it authenticates itself. "One day, when he had preached with peculiar warmth and enlargement, some of his friends came to shake hands with him after the service, and observed to him, what ' a sweet sermon' he had delivered. ' Aye !' he replied, ' you need not remind me of that ; for the devil told me of it before I was out of the pulpit.' " This story has been told of others besides Bunyan, but it may belong to him. OF JOHN BUNYAN. 51 village of Preston, where a thousand people could collect ; and there Bunyan used frequently to preach to large con- gregations, A chimney-corner, in a house in the same wood, is still looked upon with veneration, as having been the place of his refreshment.* About five miles from flitchin, was a famous Puritan preaching-place, called Bendishjt where also Bunyan was in the practice of preach- ing, in an old malt-house ; and the pulpit was carefully removed, as an honoured relic, when, in 1787, the meeting was transferred to Coleman's Green. Other congregations in Bedfordshire are believed to owe their origin to his mid- night preaching during his imprisonment, when he enjoyed the liberty, by sufferance, of making secret excursions to visit his friends. Reading, in Berkshire, was another place which he frequently visited; and a tradition has been pre- served by the Baptist congregation there, that he sometimes went through that town dressed like a carter, with a long whip in his hand, to avoid detection. The house in which the Baptists met for worship, stood in a lane ; and from the back door, they had a bridge over a branch of the river Kennett, whereby, in case of alarm, they might escape. In a visit to that place, prompted by his characteristic kindness of heart, he contracted the disease which brought him to his grave. The son of a gentleman who resided there, having fallen under his father's displeasure, who threatened to disinherit him, applied to Mr. Bunyan to act as a mediator on his behalf. He did so with good success , and it was his last labour of love. As he returned to London on horseback, he was overtaken by heavy rains, * The following anecdote has been preserved by tradition. At a liouse near Preston Castle, about three miles from Hitchin, the nonconformist ministers used to meet for mutual conference. At one of these meetings, that difficult text, Rom. viii. 18 — 22, was spoken from. When it came to Mr. Bunyan's turn to speak, he only said, " The Scriptures are wiser than I." Luther confessed that tiie meaning of that Scripture he could never make out. t It was a low, thatched building, running in two directions. A large square pulpit stood in the angles, and adjoining it was a " high pew, in which ministers aat, out of sight of informers, and from Avhich, in case of alarm, they could escape into an adjacent cave." 52 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS and took cold. A violent fever ensued; and, after an ill- ness of ten days, he "resigned his soul into the hands of his most merciful Redeemer."* He died at the house of his friend Mr. Struddock, (or Stradwick,) a grocer, on Snow- hill, on the 12th of August, 1688, in the 61st year of his age; and was buried in his host's vault at Bunhill-fields, where a handsome tomb has been erected to his memory. The following description of his person and character has been drawn by his first biographer. " He appeared in countenance to be of a stern and rough temper, but, in his conversation, mild and affable ; not given to loquacity or much discourse in company, unless some urgent occasion required it ; observing never to boast of himself or his parts, but rather to seem low in his own eyes, and submit himself to the judgment of others ; . . . . loving to reconcile differences, and make friendship with all. He had a sharp, quick eye, accompanied with an excellent discerning of persons, being of good judgment and quick wit. As for his person, he was tall of stature, strong-boned, though not corpulent ; somewhat of a ruddy face, with sparkling eyes ; wearing his hair on his upper lip, after the old British fashion; his hair reddish, but, in his latter days, time had sprinkled it with grey ; his nose well set, but not declining or bending, and his mouth moderately large ; his forehead somewhat high ; and his habit always plain and modest." Of his four children, (there were none by his second mar- riage,) three survived him :t the blind daughter, on whose * It appears that at the time of his death, the lord mayor, Sir John Shorter, was one of his London flock. A memorandum preserved in Ellis's Correspond- ence thus records his death, September 6, 1688: "Few days before died Bunian. his Lordship's teacher or chaplain ; a man said to be gifled in that way, though once a cobler." + Thomas, the eldest son, was received into communion with the Baptist Church at Bedford, November 6, 1673, just after his father had obtained his liberty, and continued a member for forty-five years, preaching occasionally in the adjacent villages. Katherine Bunyan, admitted a member in 1692, and John Bunyan, received into communion June 27, 1693, are supposed to have been grand-children of Mr. Bunyan. In the burial-ground of the Bedford meeting- house, is a stone in memory of his great-grand-daughter, Hannah Bunyan, who died Feb. 15, 1170, aged 76. OF JOHN BUNYAN. 53 behalf he expressed such tender solicitude, died a few years before him. His wife Elizabeth, who had pleaded his cause with so much energy and feeling before the justices, " hav- ing lived to see him overcome his labour and sorrow, and pass from this life to receive the reward of his work, long survived him not; for, in 1692, she died, to follow her faithful pilgrim from this world to the other ; whilst his works," quaintly adds the same biographer, " which con- sist of sixty books, remain for the edifying of the reader, and praise of the author." Bunyan was a voluminous writer. Besides the works already enumerated, he published from time to time a number of theological and polemical tracts ; and he appears to great advantage as a controversial writer, in contrast with his acrimonious and intolerant assailants. He was reluctantly drawn into a dispute with some of the most eminent Baptist ministers of the day, who attacked him with unreasonable violence for maintaining the principle and practice of what is termed open communion ; that is to say, for admitting persons of other denominations to communion at the Lord's Table, on the principle, that "differences of judgment about water baptism" are "no bar to communion," In his tracts upon this litigated point, he discovers an enlightened tolerance and a catho- licity of feeling, not only far removed from the narrow views and bigoted prejudices of his brethren, but far in advance of the spirit of his age. The Holy War, published also in his life-time, (apparently before the second part of the Pilgrim's Progress,) would of itself have immortalized its author, had he produced nothing else. Shortly after his decease, his widow put forth an advertisement, stating her inability to print the writings which he left unpub- lished, some of them prepared for the press. Four years, however, elapsed before, in 1692, his collected works, including several posthumous writings, were published in one volume folio, edited by Ebenezer Chandler, who suc- ceeded him as pastor of the Bedford congregation, and John Wilson, the first pastor of the Baptist flock at 54 THE LIFE AND WRITINGS llitchin. But this volume did not comprise the whole of his works. In 1735-6, another edition appeared in two vols, folio, edited by Rev. Samuel Wilson of Prescot-street meeting, grandson to the above John Wilson. For a reprint of this, the Rev. George Wliitfield furnished a recommendatory preface. A later edition has been pub- lished in 6 vols. 8vo. ; and an edition of his " Select Works" was printed in ISOS. The Third Part of the Pilgrim's Progress, which appeared after his death, and is included in many editions of his incomparable work, is not genuine, and bears the indubitable marks of an inferior imitator. It is impossible to form even a conjecture as to the number of editions through which the Pilgrim's Pro- gress has passed. Dr. Southey thinks it probable that no other book in the English language has obtained so con- stant and so wide a sale. The prints which have been engraved to illustrate it, would form a curious and exten- sive collection, exhibiting every variety, from the worst specimens, both in wood and copper, up to the vignettes from Harvey's spirited designs, and the copper-plates from Martin, which adorn the elegant edition to which is pre fixed Dr. Southey 's Life of the Author, and the exquisite series of Illustrations by Melville, now presented to the admirers of the Prince of Dreamers. A list of the several languages into which the Pilgrim's Progress has been translated, would be not less curious. "Bunyan," remarks Dr. Southey, "could little have supposed that his book would ever be adapted for sale among the Romanists. Whether this Avas done in the earliest French translation, I do not know ; but in the second there is no Giant Pope. . . . The First Part, under the title of *Ze Pelerinage dhm nomme Chretien' forms one of the volumes of the ^Petite Bibllotheque du Catholique,^ and bears in the title-page a glorified head of the Virgin ! A Portuguese translation of the First Part also, and in like manner cut down to the opinions of the public for which it was designed, was published in 17S2. Indeed, I believe there is no European language into which the Pilgrim's Progress has not been OF JOHN BUNYAN. 55 translated." The idiom of the work, however, is so purely and peculiarly English, that it must be next to impossible to preserve its genuine character in a foreign dress. "The fervour of the Poet's soul," remarks the American Critic before cited, (nor is the descriptive appellation a misnomer,) "acting through the medium of such a language as he learned from our common translation of the Scriptures, has produced some of the most admirable specimens in existence of the manly power and familiar beauty of the English tongue !" Pages might be occupied with the encomiums with which poets and critics have of late delighted to honour this once obscure and despised religious writer. Scott, Byron, and Wordsworth, besides Southey and Montgomery, have re-echoed the tribute of admiration and affectionate sympathy, which Cowper was the first that ventured to offer to his memory, suppressing the as yet uncanonized name. " I name thee not, Yet e'en in transitory life's late day, That mingles all my brown with sober grey, Revere the man whose Pilgrim marks the road, And guides the Progress of the soul to Grod," THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. PART I. U'HEREIN ARE DISCOVERED THE MANNER OF HIS SET I'lNG OUT; HIS DANGEROUS JOURNEY; AND SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY. "I have used similitudes,'' Kos. xii. 10. H THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY FOR HIS BOOK. When at the first I took my pen in hand, Thus for to write, I did not understand That I at all should make a little book In such a mode : nay, I had undertook To make another ; which when almost done, Before I was aware, I this begun. And thus it was : I, writing of the way And race of saints in this our gospel-day. Fell suddenly into an allegory About their journey, and the way to glory, In more than twenty things, which I set down : This done, I twenty more had in my crown ; And they again began to multiply. Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last Should prove ad infinitum, 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 59 60 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. Thereby to please my neighbour ; no, not I ; I did it mine own self to gratify. Neither did I but vacant seasons spend In this my scribble ; nor did I intend But to divert myself, in doing this, , From worser thoughts which make me do amiss. Thus I set pen to paper with delight. And quickly had my thoughts in black and "white. For having now my method by the end, Still as I pulled, it came ; and so I penned It down ; until at last it came to be. For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. Well, when I had thus put my ends together, I showed them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justify ; And some said. Let them live ; some, Let them die ; Some said, John, print it ; others said. Not so : Some said, It might do good ; others said. No. Now was I in a strait, and did not see Which was the best thing to be done by me : At last I thought. Since you are thus divided, I print it will ; and so the case decided. For, thought I, some I see would have it done, Though others in that channel do not run ; To prove, then, who advised for the best, Thus I thought fit to put it to the test. I further thought, if now I did deny Those that would have it thus to gratify, I did not know but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great delight : For those which were not for its coming forth, I said to them. Offend you I am loath ; THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 61 Yet, since your brethren pleased with it be, Forbear to judge, till you do further see. If that thou wilt not read, let it alone ; Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone ; Yea, that I might them better palliate, I did too with them thus expostulate : May I not write in such a style as this ?• In such a method too, and yet not miss My end, thy good ? Why may it not be done ? Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none. Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops, Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either. But treasures up the fruit they yield together ; Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit None can distil guish this from that ; they suit Her well when hungry ; but, if she be full. She spews out both, and makes their blessing null. You see the ways the fisherman doth take To catch the fish ; what engines doth he make ! Behold ! how he engageth all his wits ; Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets ; Yet fish there be, that neither liook 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 catched, whate'er you do. How does the fowler seek to catch his game ? By divers means, all which one cannot name : His guns, his nets, his lime-twigs, light, and bell : He creeps, he goes, he stands ; yea, who can tell Of all his postures ? Yet there's none of these Will make him master of what fowls he please. 62 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. Yea, he must pipe and whistle to catch this, Yet, if he does so, that bird he will miss. If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, And may be found too in an oyster shell : If things that promise nothing do contain What better is than gold, who will disdain. That have an inkling 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 ivill stand, luhen soundly tried. Why, what's the matter ? It is dark! What though? But it is feigned. What of that ? I trow Some men, by feigned words, as dark as mine, Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine ! But they ivant solidness. Speak, man, thy mind ! They drown the weak ; metaphors make us blind. Solidity, indeed, becom^^s 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 shadows, types, 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, THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 63 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 parable despise not we, Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, And things that good are, of our souls bereave. My dark and cloudy words, they do but hold The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. The prophets used much by metaphors ' To set forth truth ; yea, whoso 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 every where so full of all these things, (Dark figures, allegories,) yet there springs From that same book, that lustre, and those rays Of light, that 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 64 ^ THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. With what doth our imagination please ; Likewise it tends our troubles to appease. Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use, And old wives' fables he is to refuse ; But yet grave Paul him nowhere did forbid The use of parables, in which lay hid That gold, those pearls, and. precious stones, that were Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. Let me add one word more : 0 man of God, Art thou offended ? Dost thou wish I had Put forth my matter in another dress ? Or that I had in things been more express ? 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, (Examples too, and that from them that have God better pleased, by their words or ways, Than any man that breatheth now-a-days,) Thus to express my mind, thus to declare Things unto thee that excellentest are. 2. I find that men as high as trees will write Dialogue-wise ; yet no man doth them slight For writing so : indeed, if they abuse Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use To that intent ; but yet let truth be free To make her sallies upon thee and me, THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 65 Which way it pleases God ; for who knows how, Better than He that taught us first to plough, To guide our minds and pens for his 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 me 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 5 What he leaves undone ; also what he does : It also shows you how he runs and runs. Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes. It shows too who set out for life amain, As if the lasting crown they would obtain. Here also you may see the reason why They lose their labour, and like fools do die. This book will make a traveller of thee, If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be ; It will direct thee to the Holy Land, If thou wilt its direction understand ; Yea, it will make the slothful active be ; The blind also delightful things to see. Art thou for something rare and profitable ? Or wouldst thou see a truth within a fable ? I 66 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. Art thou forgetful ? Wouldest thou remember From New-year's day to the last of December ? Then read my fancies ; they will stick like burs, And may be to the helpless, comforters. This book is writ in such a dialect As may the minds of listless men affect : It seems a novelty, and yet contains Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains. 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 drowned 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 ? Wouldest thou lose thyself and catch no harm, And find thyself again without a charm ? Wouldst read thyself, and read thou knowst not what, And yet know whether thou art blest or not. By reading the same lines ? 0 then come hither ! And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. JOHN BUNYAN. THE PILGEIM'S PROGEESS. PART I. g5» /-^'■^^--; - }.A 1 :/-'_ S I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den,* and the jail. laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and, * Mr. Bunyan was confined, at, different times, about twelve years in Bedford jail, for exercising his ministry contrary to the statutes then in force. This was ' the den, in which he slept and dreamed :' here he penned this instructive allegory, and many other useful works, which evince that he was neither soured nor disheartened by persecution. The Christian, who understands what usage he ought to expect in this evil world, com- paring our present measure of religious liberty with the rigours of that age, will see abundant cause for gratitude ; but they, who are disposed to complain, can never be at a loss for topics, while so much is amiss among all ranks and orders of men, and in the conduct of every individual. 67 *?"* 68 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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.^ I looked, and saw him open the book, and read therein ; and, as he read, he wept and trembled ; and, not being . a Isaiah Ixiv. ^ Luke siv. 33. Psalm xxxviii. 4. Hab. ii. 2. * The allegory opens with a description of the principal character to which it relates. The view, which the author in his dream had of him, as 'clothed in rags,' implies that all men are sinners, in their dispositions, affections and conduct ; that their supposed virtues are radically defective, and worthless in the sight of God ; that the pilgrim has discovered this in his own case, so that he perceives his own righteousnesses to be insufficient for justification, even as sordid rags would be unsuitable raiment for those who stand before kings. His ' face turned from his own house' represents the sinner convinced that it is absolutely necessary to subordinate all other concerns to the care of his immortal soul, and to renounce every thing which interferes with that grand object: this makes him lose his former relish for the pleasures of sin, and even for the most lawful temporal satis- factions, while he trembles at the thought of impending destruction. (Heb. xi. 8. 24 — 27.) 'The book in his hand,' &c. instructs us, that sinners dis- cover their real state and character, by reading and believing the Scrip- tures ; that their first attention is often directed to the denunciations of the wrath to come contained in them, and that such persons cannot but con- tinue to search the word of God, though their grief and alarm be increased by every perusal. The ' burden upon his Back' represents that distressing sense of guilt, and fear of wrath, which deeply convinced sinners cannot shake off; ' the remembrance of their sins is grievous to them, the burden of them is intolerable :' their consciences are oppressed with guilt, even on account of those actions in which their neighbours perceive no harm ; their hearts tremble at the prospect of dangers of which others have no appre- hension ; and they see an absolute necessity of escaping from a situation in which others live most securely : for true faith, from the very first, * sees things that are invisible.' In one way or other, therefore, they soon mani- fest the earnestness of their minds, in inquiring ' what they must do to be saved.' The circumstances of these humiliating convictions exceedingly vary; but the life of faith and grace always begins with them: and they, who are wholly strangers to this experience, are Christians only in name and form : — ' He knows no hope, who never knew a fear.' Cowper. ^ THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 69 able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, " What shall I do !"" 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. Where- fore, at length, he brake his mind to his wife and child- fa Acts ii. 37. * The contempt or indignation, which worldly people express towards those who are distressed in conscience, commonly induces them to conceal their inquietude as long as they can, even from their relatives ; but this soon becomes impracticable. Natural affection also, connected with a view of the extreme danger to which a man sees the objects of his most tender attachments exposed, but of which they have no apprehensions, will extort such earnest representations, warnings, and entreaties, as are here ex- pressed. The city of Destruction (as it is afterwards called) signifies this present evil world, as doomed to the flames ; or the condition of careless sinners, immersed in secular pursuits and pleasures, neglecting eternal things, and exposed to the unquenchable fire of hell, ' at the day of judg- ment and perdition of ungodly men.' They who are ignorant of the Scriptures, and unaccustomed to compare their own conduct with the Divine law, will be amazed at such discourse; and, instead of duly re- garding the warnings given them, will commonly ascribe them to enthu- siasm or insanity ; and as prophets, apostles, and the Son of God himself, were looked upon in this lighl by their contemporaries, we may be sure that no prudence, excellence, or benevolence, can exempt the consistent believer from the trial. Near relations will generally be the first to form this opinion of his case ; and will devise various expedients to quiet his mind : diversions, company, feastings, absence from serious friends or books, will be prescribed : and by these means a false peace often succeeds a tran- sient alarm. But when a genuine humiliating discovery of the evil and desert of sin has been made to the soul, such expedients will not alleviate, but increase, the anguish; and will be followed by still greater earnest- ness about a man's own salvation, and that of others. This commonly strengthens prejudice, and induces obduracy : and contemptuous pity gives place to resentment, ill usage, derision, or neglect. Th^disconsolate be- liever will then be driven into retirement, and relieve his burdened mind by reading the Scriptures, and meditating on his doleful case, with com- passionate prayers for his despisers: and thus he sows in tears that seed from which the harvest of his future joy will surely be produced. HE KNOWS WAY OF ESCAPE AS YET. 70 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ren ; and thus he began to talk to them : O my dear wife, said he, and you the children of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in myself undone by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me; moreover, I am certainly THIS WORLD. informed that this our city will be burnt with fire from heaven ; in which fearful overthrow, both my- self, Math thee my wife, and you my sweet babes, shall NO 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 rela- tions 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 trouble- some 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 CARNAL PHY- thought to drivc away his distemper by SIC FOR A SICK ^°"^- harsh and surly carriage to him; some- times they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. Where- fore he began to retire himself to his chamber, to pray for and pity them, and also to condole his own misery. He would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying: and thus for some days he spent his time. Now I saw,* upon a time, when he was walking in *The Scriptures are indeed sufficient to make us wise unto salvation, a« well as to shew us our guilt and danger ; yet the Lord commonly uses the THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, 71 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?"" 1 saw also that he looked this way, and that way, as if he would run ; yet he stood still, because (as I per- ceived) he could not tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him, and he asked, Wherefore dost thou cry ? He answered. Sir, I perceive, by the book in my hand, that I am condemned to die, and after that to come to judgment ; and I find that T am not willing to do the first, nor able to do the second.'' Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this life is attended with so many evils? The man answered. Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Tophet.^ And, sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit 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 c Acts xvi. 30, 31. d Heb. isi. 27. Job xvi. 21, 22. Ezek. xxii. 14. e Isa. xxx. 33. ministry of his servants to direct, into the way of peace, even those who have previously discovered their lost condition. Thoug-Ji convinced of the necessity of escaping from impending ruin, they hesitate, not knowing what to do, till Providence brings them acquainted with some faithful preacher of the Gospel, whose instructions afford an explicit answer to their secret inquiries after the way of salvation. * The able minister of Christ will deem it necessary to enforce the warning, 'flee from the wrath to come,' even upon those who are alarmed about their souls; because this is the proper way of exciting them to dili- gence and decision, and of preserving them from procrastination. Thev, therefore, who would persuade such persons, that their fears are groundless, their guilt far less than they suppose, and their danger imaginary, use the 72 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. CONVICTION OF THE NECESSITY CHRIST, THE WAY TO HIM, CANNOT BE FODND WITHOUT THE WORD. standest thou still ? He answered, Because OF ItleVing." ' I know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll ; and there was written within, " Flee from the wrath to come."^ The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evan- gelist very carefully, said, Whither must I flee 1* Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field. Do you see yonder wicket-gate ?^ The man j,„ said. No. Then said the other. Do you see E yonder shining light ?" He said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see the gate ; at which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do. So I saw in my dream, f Matt. iii. 7 g Matt. vii. 13, 14. h Psalm cxix. 105. 2 Pet. i. 19. most effectual means of soothing them into a fatal security. Nor can any discoveries of heinous guilt or helpless ruin in themselves produce despond- ency, provided the salvation of the Gospel be fully exhibited, and proposed to them. * The awakened sinner may be incapable for a time of perceiving the way of salvation by faith in Christ ; for divine illumination is often very gradual. Thus, though the pilgrim could not see the gate, when Evangelist pointed it out to him, he thought he could discern the shining light. Up- right inquirers attend to the general instructions and encouragements of Scripture, and the declarations of the pardoning mercy of God ; which by degrees lead them to the knowledge of Christ, and to faith in him : for, as our author says in a marginal note, 'Christ, and the way to him, cannot be found without the word.' Thus instructed, the pilgrim ' began to run ;' for no persuasions or considerations can induce the man, who is duly in earnest about salvation, to neglect those things which he knows to be his present duty : but it must be expected that carnal relations will oppose this, espe- cially as it appears to them destructive of all their prospects of worldly advantage. The following lines are here subjoined to a very rude en- graving : — ' Christian no sooner leaves the world, but meets Evangelist, who lovingly him greets With tidings of another ; and doth shew Him how to mount to that from this below. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 73 that the man began to run. Now he had not run far from his own door, when his wife and children per- ceiving it, began to cry after him to return ;' but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, *Life! hfe! eternal life!' So he looked not behind him,'' but fled towards the middle of the plain. The neighbours* also came out to see him run : and, as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, and some cried afiter him to return ; and among those THEY THAT FLY FROM THE that did so, there were two that were re- ""'"^" '"' '^"^^ ARE A GAZING- STOCK TO THE solved to fetch him back by force. The name world. of the one was Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable. Now by this time the man was got a good i Luke xiv. 26. k Gen. xix. 17. * The attention of numbers is in general excited when one of their companions in sin and vanity engages in religion and forsakes the party. He soon becomes the topic of conversation among them : their minds are variously affected ; some ridicule, others rail, threaten, attempt force, or employ artifice, to withdraw him from his purpose ; according to their dif- ferent dispositions, situations, or relations to him. Most of them, however, soon desist, and leave him to his choice. But two characters are not so easily shaken off; these our author has named Obstinate and Pliable, to denote their opposite propensities. The former, through a resolute pride and stoutness of heart, persists in attempting to bring back the new con- vert to his worldly pursuits; the latter, from a natural easiness of temper and susceptibility of impression, is pliant to persuasion, and readily con- sents to make a profession of religion. The subsequent dialogue admirably illustrates the characters of the speakers. Christian (for so he is henceforth called) is firm, decided, bold, and sanguine : — Obstinate is profane, scornful, self-sufficient, and disposed to contemn God's word, when it interferes with his worldly interests: — Pliable is yielding, and easily induced to engage in things, of which he understands neither the nature nor the consequences. Christian's plain warnings and earnest entreaties ; Obstinate's contempt of believers, as •crazy-headed coxcombs,' and his exclamation when Pliable inclines to be a pilgrim, ' What, more fools still V are admirably characteristic ; and shew that such things are peculiar to no age or place, but always accompany serious godliness, as the shadow does the substance. K 74 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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, where- fore are you come ? They said, To persuade you to go back with us. But he said, That can by no means be. You dwell, said he, in the city of Destruction ; the place also where I was born': I see it to be so ; and dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave, into a place that burns with fire and brimstone : be content, good neighbours, and go along with me. What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts behind us ? Yes, said Christian, (for that was his name,) be- cause that all which you shall forsake, is not worthy to be compared with a little of that which I am seeking to enjoy ;' and if you will go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare as I myself; for there, where I go, is enough and to spare.™ Come away, and prove my words. Obst. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them ? Chr. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not away ; and it is laid up in heaven," and safe there, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in my book. Tush, said Obstinate, away with your book; will you go back with us, or no ? No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the plough." Obst. Come then, neighbour Pliable, let us turn again, and go home without him : there is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, who, when they take 1 2 Cor, iv. 18. m Luke xv. 17. n 1 Pet. i. 4—6. Heb. xi. 6, 16. o Luke kx. 68. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 75 a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason. Then said PHable, 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 christian and ° OBSTINATE PULL which I spoke of, and many more glories sonL. '"'■'''"'''^'^ besides. If you believe not me, read here in this book ; and, for the truth of what is expressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of Him that made it.^ Well, neighbour Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin to come to a point : I intend to go along with pliable con- '■ O O SENTETH TO GO this good man, and to cast in my lot with ^/J^^ *='"'''• him : but, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired place ? Chr. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evan- gelist, to speed me to a httle 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. And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate : I will be no companion of such misled, obstinate goes r „x i- 1 r 11 RAILING BACK. lantastical fellows. Now I saw in my dream,* that when Obstinate was p Heb. ix. 17—22. * This conversation between Christian and Pliable marks the difference in their characters, as well as the measure of the new convert's attain- ments. The want of a due apprehension of eternal things is evidently the 76 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. TALK BETWEE CBRISTIAN AND god's things unspeakable. N gone back, Christian and Pliable went talk- prrABLE^" "" ing 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 farther, what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going. Chr. I can better conceive of them with my mind, than speak of them with my tongue : but yet, since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in my book. primary defect of all who oppose or neglect religion; but more maturity of judgment and experience is requisite to discover, that many professors are equally strangers to a realizing view 'of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen.' The men represented by Pliable disregard these subjects; they inquire eagerly about the good things to be enjoyed, but not in any due proportion about the way of salvation, the difficulties to be encountered, or the danger of coming short : and new converts, being zealous, sanguine, and unsuspecting, are naturally led to enlarge on the descriptions of hea- venly felicity given in Scripture. As these are generally figurative or negative, such unhumbled professors, annexing carnal ideas to them, are greatly delighted ; and, not being retarded by any distressing remorse and terror, or feeling the opposition of corrupt nature, they are often more zealous, and seem to proceed faster in external duties, than true converts. They take it for granted that all the privileges of the Gospel belong to them ; and, being very confident, zealous, and joyful, they often censure those who are really fighting the good fight of faith. There are also systems diligently propagated, which marvellously encourage this delusion, excite a high flow of false aflfections, especially of a mere selfish gratitude to a supposed benefactor for imaginary benefits, which is considered as a very high attainment : till the event proves them to be like the Israelites at the fled Sea, who ' believed the Lord's words, and sang his praise ; but sooo forgat his works, and waited not for his counsel.' (Psalm cvi. 12 — 24) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 77 Pli. And do you think that the words of yoiii book are certainly true ? Chr. Yes, verily ; for it was made by Him that can- not lie.^ 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."" 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.^ 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.' Pli. And what company shall we have there ? Chr. There we shall be with seraphiniij^ and cheru- bimi, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them." There also you shall meet with thousands and ten thousands that have gone before us to that place ; none of them are hurtful, but loving and holy ; every one walking in the sight of God, and standing in his presence with acceptance for ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders with their golden crowns ;" there we shall see the holy virgins with their golden harps ;'^ there we shall see men that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love they bare to the Lord of the place, all well, and clothed with immortality as with a garment.^ Pli. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's q Tit. i. 2. r Isa. Ixv. 17. Joliii x. 27—29. s 2 Tim. iv.8. Rev. xxii. 5. Matt. xiii. 43. t Isa. XXV. 8. Rev. vii. IG, 17. xxi. 4. u Isa. vi. 2. 1 Tliess. iv. 16, 17. V Rev. iv. 4. w Rev. xiv. 1—5. x John xii. 25. 2 Cor. v. 2—4. 78 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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/ Pli. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things : come on, let us mend our pace. Chr. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is upon my back. Now I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this talk, they drew nigh to a very miry slough,* that y Isa. Iv. 1—8. John vi."37. vii. 37. Rev. xxi. 6, 7. xxii. 17. * The slough of Despond represents those discouraging fears which often harass new converts. It is distinguished from the alarms which induced Christian to leave the city, and ' flee from the wrath to come :' for the anxious apprehensions of one who is diligently seeking salvation are very diflferent from those which excited him to enquire after it. The latter are reasonable and useful, and arise from faith in God's word : but the former are groundless ; they result from remaining ignorance, inattention, and un- belief, and greatly retard the pilgrim in his progress. They should also be carefully distinguished from those doubts and discouragements, which assault the established Christian ; for these are generally the consequence of negligence, or yielding to temptation ; whereas new converts fall into their despondings, when most diligent, according to the light they have re- ceived : and if some conscientious persons seem to meet with this slough in every part of their pilgrimage, it arises from an immature judgment, erro- neous sentiments, or peculiar temptations. When the diligent student of the Scriptures obtains such an acquaintance with the perfect holiness of God, the spirituality of his law, the inexpressible evil of sin, and his own obligations and transgressions, as greatly exceeds the measure in which he discerns the free and full salvation of the Gospel, his humiliation will verge nearer and nearer to despondency. This, however, is not essential to re- pentance, but arises from misapprehension; though few in proportion wholly escape it. The mire of the slough represents that idea which desponding persons entertain of themselves and their situation, as altogether vile and loathsome ; and their confessions and self-abasing complaints, which render them contemptible in the opinion of others. As every attempt to rescue themselves discovers to them more of the latent evil of their hearts, they THE SLOUGH OF DESPOND. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 79 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 be- daubed with the dirt ; and Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, began to sink in the mire. Then said Pliable, Ah, neighbour Christian, where are you now ? Truly, said Christian, I do not know. At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow. Is this the happiness you have told me of all this while ? If we have such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect between this and our journey's end ? May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the brave country alone for it is not me. And with that he gave a desperate pliable. struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side seem to grow worse and worse ; and, for want of a clear understanding of the Gospel, they have no firm ground to tread on, and know neither where they are, or what they must do. But how could Pliable fall into this slough, seeing he had no such views of God or his law, of himself, or of sin, as this condition seems to presuppose? To this it may be answered, that men can hardly associate with religious persons, and hear their discourse, confessions, and complaints, or become acquainted with any part of Scripture, without making some alarming and mortifying discoveries concerning themselves. These transient convictions taking place when they fancied they were about to become very good, and succeeding to great self-complacency, con- stitute a grievous disappointment ; and they ascribe their uneasiness to the new doctrine they have heard. But, though Pliable fell into the slough, Christian ' by reason of his burden' sank the deepest ; for the true believer's humiliation for sin tends greatly to increase his fear of wrath. Superficial professors, expecting the promised happiness witliout trouble or suffering, are often very angry at those who were the means of inducing them to think of religion ; as if they had deceived them : and, being destitute or true faith, their only object is, at any rate to get rid of their uneasiness. This is a species of stony-ground hearers abounding in every part of the church, who are offended and fall away, by means of a little inward ais- quietude, before any outward tribulation arises because of the word. CHRISTI A TROUBLE. SEEKS STILL TO GET FARTHER FROM HIS OWN HOUSE. 80 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 ^, IN of Despond alone: but still he endea- voured 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 ? 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. THE PROMISES. Help. But wliy did not you look for the steps? Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell in. Then said he, Give me thy hand ; so he gave him * Christian dreaded the doom of his city more than the slough. Many persons, under deep distress of conscience, are afraid of relief, lest it should prove delusive. Deliverance from wrath and the blessings of salvation appear to them so valuable, that all else is comparatively trivial. Despon- ding fears may connect with their religious diligence ; but despair would be the consequence of a return to their former course of sin. If>}iey perish, therefore, it shall be whilst earnestly struggling, under deep discouragement, after that salvation for which their souls even faint within them. Their own efforts, indeed, fail to extricate them : but in due time the Lord will send them assistance. This is described by the allegorical person named Help, who may represent the instruments by which they receive encourage- ment: a service in which it is a privilege to be employed! — Fear is also personified : in the midst of the new convert's discourse on the joys of hea- ven, fears of wrath often cast him into despondency, while he so thinks of the terrors of the Lord, as to overlook his precious promises. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 81 HELP LIFT8 HIM OCT. his hand, and he drew him out, and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his way.^ Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, wherefore, since over this place is the way from the city of Destruction to yonder gate, is it, that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go thither with more security? And he said unto me,* This miry slough is such a place as cannot be mended . it is the descent whither the scum and filth what makes . - . . ^ . , , THE SLODaH Of that attends conviction tor sin doth con- despond. tinually run, and therefore it is called the Slough of z Psalm xl. 2. * This account of the slough, which our author in his vision received from Help, coincides with the preceding explanation. Increasing knowledge produces deeper self-abasement: hence discouraging fears arise in men's minds, lest they should at last perish ; and objections against themselves continually accumulate till they fall into habitual despondency, unless they constantly attend to the encouragements of the Scripture, or, in the apostle's language, have their 'feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of peace.' As this state of mind is distressing and enfeebling in itself, and often fur- nishes enemies with a plausible objection to religion, the servants of God have always attempted to preserve humble enquirers from it, by various scriptural instructions and consolatory topics : yet their success is not ad- equate to their wishes ; for the Lord is pleased to permit numbers to be thus discouraged, in order to detect false professors, and to render the upright more watchful and humble. Our author in a marginal note, explains the steps to mean, ' the promises of forgiveness and acceptance to life by faith in Christ;' which includes the general invitations, and the various encour- agements given in Scripture to all who seek the salvation of the Lord, and diligently use the appointed means. It was evidently his opinion, that the path from destruction to life lies by this slough ; and that none are indeed in the narrow way, who had neither struggled through it, nor gone over it by means of the steps. The ' change of weather' seems to denote those seasons when peculiar temptations, exciting sinful passions, perplex the minds of new converts; and so, losing sight of the promises, they sink into despondency during humiliating experiences: but faith in Christ, and in the mercy of God through him, sets the pilgrim's teet on good ground. L 82 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Despond ; for still, as the sinner is awakened about hii lost condition, there arise in his soul many fears and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place. And this is the reason of the badness of this ground. It is not the pleasure of the King that this place fchould remain so bad.* His labourers also have, by the direction of his Majesty's surveyors, been for above these sixteen hundred years employed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended : yea, and to my 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, THE PROMISE ccrtaiu good and substantial steps, placed OF FORGIVENESS ~ '^ ^ Ince to'^mf'e even through the very midst of this chriVt.^** '" slough; but at such time as this place doth much spew out its filth, as it doth against change of weather, these steps are hardly seen ; or if they be, men, through the dizziness of their heads, step beside; and then they are bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the steps be there :^ but the ground is good when they are once got in at the gate. Now I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable HOME^^'l^ND ""I was got home to his house. So his neigh- NEioHBouRs. ^ bours cauic to visit him; and some of/them a lia. XXXV. 3 4, 8. b 1 Sam. xii. 21. MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN MEETS WITH CHRIS- TIAN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 83 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 confi- dence, 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 :t he dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy, a * They, who affect to despise real Christians, often both express and feel great contempt for those that cast off their profession ; such men are unable, for a time, to resume their wonted confidence among their former compan- ions ; and this excites them to pay court to them by reviling and deriding those whom they have forsaken. f The wise men of this world carefully notice those who begin to turn their thoughts to religion, and attempt to counteract their convictions before the case becomes desperate : from their desponding fears they take occasion to insinuate that they are deluded or disordered in their minds ; that they make too much ado about religion ; and that a decent regard to it (which is all that is requisite) consists with the enjoyment of this life, and even con- duces to secular advantage. Worldly-Wiseman, therefore, is a person of consequence, whose superiority gives him influence over poor pilgrims : he is a reputable and successful man ; prudent, sagacious, and acquainted with mankind ; moral and religious in his way, and qualified to give the very best counsel to those who wish to serve both God and Mammon : but he is decided in his judgment against all kinds and degrees of religion, which interfere with a man's worldly interest,disquiet his mind, or spoil his relish for outward enjoyments. He resides at Carnal-Policy, a great town near the city of Destruction : for worldly prudence, modelling a man's religion, is as ruinous as open vice and impiety ; though it be very prevalent among decent and virtuous people. Such men attend to the reports that are circu- lated about the conversion of their neighbours, and often watch their oppor- tunity of entering into discourse with thera. 84 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. very great town, and also hard-by from whence Chris- tian 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. ^T^.LK ^^j^^;;^^^ World. How now, good fellow, whither WISEMAN 4.ND r. il"l J J OSfc CHRISTIAN. away alter this burdened manner (* * There is great beauty in this dialogue, arising from the exact regard to character preserved throughout. Indeed this forms one of our author's peculiar excellencies; as it is a very difficult attainment, and always man- ifests a superiority of genius. The self-satisfaction of Worldly-Wiseman, his contempt of Christian's capacity, sentiments, and pursuits ; bis affected sneering compassion, and his censure of Evangelist's advice; his represen- tation of the dangers and hardships of the way, and of ' the desperate ven- tures of religious people to obtain they know not what:' and his confident assumption that Christian's concern arose from weakness of intellect, 'med- dling with things too high' for him, hearkening to bad counsel (that is read- ing the word of God, and attending to the preaching of the Gospel,) and from distraction, as the natural consequence, are most admirably character- istic. His arguments also are very specious, though wholy deduced from worldly considerations. He does not say, that Evangelist had not pointed out the way of salvation, or that wicked men are not in danger of future misery ; but he urges, that so much concern about sin and the eternal world takes men off from a proper regard to their secular interests, to the injury of their families; that it prevents their enjoying comfort in domestic life, or in other providential blessings ; that it leads them into perilous and dis- tressing situations, of which their first terrors and despondings are only an earnest; that a troubled conscience may be quieted in a more expeditious and easy manner; and that they may obtain credit, comfort, and manifold advantages, by following prudent counsel. On the other hand, Christian not only speaks according to his name, but consistently with the character of a young convert. He makes no secret of his disquietude and terrors, and declares, without reserve, the method in which he sought relief He owns, that he had lost his relish for every earthly comfort, and he desires to receive good counsel : but while he is prepared to witlistand all persuasions THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 85 Chr. a burdened manner indeed, as ever I think poor creature had ! And m hereas 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 : me- thinks I am as if I had none.'' World. Wilt thou hearken to me, if I give thee counsel? Chr. If it be good, I will; for I stand in need of good counsel. World. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get thyself rid of thy burden; for worldly wise- , ., , 1 1 • 1 • 1 -ll man's COUNSEt. thou Wilt never be settled m thy mmd till t" christian. then : nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessings which God hath bestowed upon thee, till then. Chr. That is timt which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden : but get it off myself I cannot ; nor is there any man in our country that can take it off my shoulders ; therefore am I going this way, as I told you, that I may be rid of my burden. World. Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy burden ? c 1 Cor. vii. 29. to return home, he is not upon his guard against the insidious proposal of his carnal counsellor. He fears the wrath to come more than all the dread- ful things which had been mentioned : but his earnestness to get present relief exposes him to the danger of seeking it in an unwarranted way. He has obtained from the Scriptures a conviction of his guilt and danger ; but, not having also learned the instructions of life, he does not discern the fatal tendency of tiie plausible advice given him by so reputable a person. Every one, who has been in the way of making observations oh these matters, must perceive how exactly this suits the case of numbers, when first brought to mind the one thinor needful. 86 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. a man that appeared to me to be a very great and honourable person: his name, as I remember, is Evangehst. World. I beshrew him for his counsel ! there is not MR. woRLDLT ^ more dangerous and troublesome way in DEMNETH EVAN- the worM than is that into which he hath gelist's coun- "''• 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 j I am older than thou : thou art like to meet with, in the way which thou goest, wearisomeness, painfulness, hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, darkness, and, in a word, death, and what not. These things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies. And should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by giving heed to a stranger? Chr. Why, sir, this burden 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 thy 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 ; HE does not which distractions do not only unman men, likethatmen ,. SHOULD BE sERi- as thmc I perccivc have done thee, but ODS IN READING i^ , ' THE BIBLE. |.j^^y ^.^^ thcm upoH dcspcratc ventures, to obtain they know not what. THE FRAME OF THE HEART OF ATOONO CHRIS- TIAN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 87 Chr. I know what I would obtain; it is ease from my heavy burden. World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many dangers attend it? especially since (hadst thou but patience to hear me) I could direct thee to the obtaining of what thou desirest, without the dangers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into. Yea, and the remedy is at hand. Besides, I will add, that, instead of those dangers, thou shalt meet with much safety, friendship, and content. Chr. Sir, I pray open this secret to me. World. Why, in yonder village* (the village is * The village Morality, is the emblem of that large company, who in nations favoured with revelation abstain from scandalous vices, and practise reputable duties, without any true fear or love of God, or regard to his au- thority or glory. This, connected with a system of notions, and a stint of external worship, is substituted in the place of Christianity : but it is faulty in its principle, measure, and object ; it results wholly from self-love ; is restricted to the outward observance of some precepts selected from the Scriptures ; and aims principally at the acquisition of reputation, distinction, or temporal advantages, with no more than a subordinate respect even to the interests of eternity : it is destitute of humility, delight, impartiality, and universality in obedience ; it leaves the heart in the possession of some worldly idol, and never advances a man to the rank of a spiritual worship- per, or renders him meet for the peculiar pleasures of heaven. Yet this mutilated kind of religion draws multitudes off from attending either to the holy requirements of the law, or to the humbling doctrines of the Gospel. The most noted inhabitant of this village does not derive his name, Legal- ity, from making the law of God the rule of his conduct (for ' by the law ig the knowledge of sin,' which tends to increase the convinced sinner's dis- tress), but from his teaching men to depend on a defective obedience to a small part of the law, explained and lowered, according to the method of the scribes and pharisees. Such teachers, however, are admired by the wise men of this world, and are deemed very skilful in relieving troubled consciences, and recovering men from religious distractions. His son Civility is the emblem of those, who persuade themselves and others, that a decent, benevolent, and obliging behaviour, will secure men from all future punishment, and insure an inheritance in heaven, if indeed there be any such place ! Such counsellors can ease the consciences of ignorant 88 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. named Morality) there dwells a gentleman whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and a man of a ver) UE PREFERS MO- good name, that has skill to help men of! EALITY BEFORE ^ ^ THE^ STRAIT- ^j|^]^ gy^.j^ burdeus as thine is from theii shoulders ; yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great deal of good this way ; aye, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens. To him, as I said, thou mayst go, and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place ; and if he should not be at home him- self, 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 mayst 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 mayst send for thy wife and children to thee to this village, where there are houses now stand- ing empty, one of which thou mayst have at a reasonable rate : provision is there also cheap and good ; and that which will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure there thou shalt live by honest neighbours, in credit and good fashion. Now was Christian somewhat at a stand ; but pre- sently he concluded. If this be true which this gentle- persons, when superficially alarmed, almost as well as those who superadd a form of godliness, a few doctrinal opinions, and a regard to some precepts of the Gospel. Both are nigh at hand in every place ; and the wise men of this world are ever ready to direct convinced sinners to seek relief from them : they allow, that it is better for those who have been immoral and profligate to reform their lives; for this will meet with the approbation of their relatives, and conduce to their advantage, while the strait gate and narrow way would prove their ruin. Most pilgrims are assailed by such counsellors : and many are not able to detect the fallacy of their reasonings till their own folly corrects them. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 89 CHRISTIAN SNARED BY MR WORLDLY WISE- MAN'S WORDS. man hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice : and with that he thus further spake. Chr. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house? World. Do you see yonder high hill?* moont sinai. 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. Legahty's house for help: but behold, when christian he was got now hard by the hill, it seemed modnt sinai o -J ■ WOULD FALL so high, and also that side of it that was "" "" ^^^°- next the way-side did hang so much over, that Christian was afraid to venture further, lest the hill should fall on his head; wherefore there he stood still, and wist 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 burnt -^ here therefore he did d Exod. xix. 16—18. Heb. xii. 21. * Christian must go past mount Sinai to the village Morality; not that such men, as depend on their own reformation and good works, pay a due regard to the holy law which was delivered from that mountain (for ' they are alive without the law') ; but because they substitute their own scanty obedience in the place of Christ's righteousness and atonement. They, who are not duly humbled and enlightened, perceiving little danger, pass on quietly and securely : but the sinner, who is deeply convinced of his guilt, finds every attempt ' to establish his own righteousness' entirely abortive : the more narrowly he compares his conduct and character with the holy law, the greater is his alarm : and he trembles lest its curses should immediately fall upon him, with vengeance more tremendous than the most awful thunder. Then the counsels of worldly wisdom appear in their true light, and the sinner is prepared to welcome the Gospel of free salvation : but if the minister, whose instructions he had forsaken, meet him, his terror will unite with conscious shame ; and he will even be tempted to shun his faithful friend, through fear of his merited reproofs, M 90 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. sweat, and quake for fear. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worklly Wiseman's coun- sel ; and with that he saw Evangehst 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. EVANGELIST FINUETII CHRIS- TIAN UNDER MOUNT SINAI. 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 III 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 ? EVANGEL REASONS AFRE WITH CHRIS- T I A N. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 91 Yes, dear sir, said Christian. Evan. How is it then that thou art so quickly turned aside ? For thou art now out of the way. 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 wa}^, sir, that you set me in; which wa}', said he, will direct you to a gentleman's house that hath skill to take oft* 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 be- 92 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. held things as they are, I stopped, for fear, as 1 said, of dano-er : but I now know not what to do. Then said Evangehst, Stand still a little, that I may EVANGELIST show tlice the words of God.* So he stood CONVINCES HIM OF HIS ERROR, trcnibling. 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."^ He said, more- over, "Now the just shall live by faith j but if any e Heb. xii. 25. * Our author judged it right, in dealing with persons under great terror of conscience, to aim rather at preparing them for solid peace, than hastily to give them comfort. Men may be greatly dismayed, and in some degree truly humbled, yet not be duly sensible of the aggravation and degree of their guilt. In this case, further instructions, as to the nature and hein- ousness of their offences, are needful to excite them to proper diligence and self-denial, and to prepare them for solid peace and comfort. Whereas, a virell-meant, compassionate, but injudicious, method, of proposing consola- tory topics indiscriminately to all under trouble of conscience, lulls many into a fatal sleep ; and gives others a transient peace, which soon terminates in deep despondency : like a wound, hastily skinned over by an ignorant practitioner, instead of being soundly cured by the patient attention of a skilful surgeon. The communication of more knowledge may, indeed, augment a man's terror and distress; but it will produce deeper humilia- tion, and thus effectually warn him against carnal counsellors and legal de- pendences. Whatever may be generally thought of ' turning aside' from the Gospel, it is a direct refusal to hearken to Christ ; and they who do so, run into misery, and leave the way of peace, to the hazard of their souls; even though moral decency and formal piety be the result. (Gal. v. 4.) Such denunciations are despised by the stout-hearted, but the contrite in spirit, vv'hen conscious of this guilt, are cast by them into the deepest distress ; so that tliey would fall into despair did not the ministers of Christ encourage them by evangelical topics. The following lines are here inserled, as be- fore, in the old editions : — ' When Christians unto carnal men give ear, Out of their way tliey go, and pay for't dear: For Master Worldly Wiseman can but shew A saint the way to bondage and to woe.' THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 93 man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.'"" He also did thus apply them: Thou art the man that art running into this misery ; thou hast be- gun to reject the counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot from the way of peace, even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition. Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, crying. Woe is me, for I am undone ! At the sight of which Evangelist caught him by the right hand, saying, " All manner of sin and blasphemies shall be forgiven unto men." "Be not faithless, but believing." Then did Christian again a little revive, and stood up trembling, as at first, before Evangelist. Then Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more earn- est 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 w?sEMrN''°D''E^ is he so called ; partly because he sa- evan^oThs"^ voureth only of the doctrine of this world,^ (therefore he always goes to the town of Morality to church ;*) and partly because he loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him best from the cross :^ and because he is of this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh to pervert my f Heb. X. 38. g 1 John iv. 5. h Gal. vi. 12. * Worldly Wiseman goes to church at the town of Morality : for such men support their confidence and reputation for religion by attending on those preachers, who substitute a proud scanty morality in place of the Gospel. This coincides with their secular views, dispositions, and inte- rests; they avoid the cross, verily thinking they have found out the secret of reconciling the friendship of the world with the favour of God; and then they set up for teachers of the same convenient system to their neighbours ! 94 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ways, though right. Now there are three things ifi 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, 3. And his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the administration of death. First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way ; yea, and thine own consenting thereto ; because this is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the counsel of a Worldly Wiseman. The Lord says. "Strive to enter in at the strait gate," the gate to which I send thee ; " for strait is the gate that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it."' From this little wicket-gate, and from the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction : hate, therefore, his turning thee out of the way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to him. Secondly, Thou must abhor his labouring to render the cross odious unto thee ; for thou art to prefer it before the treasures of Egypt.^ Besides, the King of glory hath told thee, that he that will save his life shall lose it. And he that comes after him, and hates not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be his disciple.' I say, therefore, for man to labour to persuade thee that that shall be thy death, without which, the truth hath said, thou canst not have eternal life ; this doctrine thou must abhor. Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way that leadeth to the ministration of death And for this thou must consider to whom he sent thee, i Luke xiii. 24. Matt. vii. 13, 14. k Heb. xi. 25, 26. 1 Matt. X. 37—39. Mark viii. 34, 35. Luke xiv. 26, 27. John xii. 25. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 95 and also how unable that person was to deliver thee from thy burden. He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name Legality,* is the son of the bond-woman which now is, and is in bondage with her children;'" and is, in a mystery, this mount Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now, if she and 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, notwith- standing 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 m Gal. iv. 21—27. * When Christ had finished his work on earth, the Sinai covenant with Israel was abrogated. The Jews, therefore, by cleaving to the Mosaic law as a complex covenant of worlrs, were left in bondage and under con- demnation ; and all professed Christians, who thus depend on notions, sacra- ments, religious duties, and morality, to the neglect of Christ and the new covenant in his blood, are entangled in the same fatal error. Legality can only lead a man to a false peace : it can never deliver a sinner from guilt, or quiet the conscience of one who is really humbled and enlightened. The Scriptures adduced by Evangelist are so pertinent and conclusive against the fashionable religion, which has at present almost superseded the Gospel, that they can never be fairly answered : nay, the more any man considers them as the testimony of God, the greater must be his alarm (even as if he heard the voice from mount Sinai out of the midst of the fire ;) unless he be conscious of having renounced every other confidence, to ' flee for re- fuge to lay hold on the hope set before us' in the Gospel. Such alarms pre- pare men to attend to the counsel of those who preach salvation by faith in Christ alone, provided there may yet be hope ; of which there is no reason to doubt. 96 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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."" 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 gentle- man's arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have the prevalency with him so far as to cause him to forsake the right way. This done, he applied himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as follows. Chr. Sir, what think you, is there any hope ? May I now go back, and go up to the wicket-gate? Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from thence ashamed ? I am sorry I have hearkened to this man's counsel : but may my sin be forgiven ? Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very great,* n Gal. iii. 10. * In attempting to encourage those who despond, we should by no means persuade them that their sins are few or trivial, or even that they judge too hardly of their own conduct; nay, we should endeavour to convince them that their guilt is even far greater than they suppose; though not too great to be pardoned by the infinite mercy of God in Christ Jesus : for this tends to take them off more speedily from every vain attempt to justify them- selves, and renders them more unreserved in relying on Christ for accept- CHRISTIAN IN- QUIRES IF HE MAY YET BE HAPPY. r^&^ THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 97 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 evangelist .1 r» 1 1 7 .,, /• COMFORTS HIM. receive thee, lor he has good-will tor men; only, said he, take heed that thou turn not aside again, "lest thou perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a little.'"* Then did Christian address himself to go back ; and Evangelist, after he had 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 man asked him, would he vouchsafe them an answer. He went like one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no means think himself safe till again he was got into the way which he had left to follow Mr. Worldly Wiseman's counsel. So in process of time Christian got up to the gate.* Now o Psalm ii. 12. ance. In the midst of the most affectionate encouragements, the faithful minister must also solemnly warn young converts not to turn aside ; nor can the humble ever find confidence or comfort, till they are conscious of having regained the way they had forsaken. * The gate, at which Christian desired admission, represents Christ him- self, as received by the penitent sinner in all his offices, and for all the pur- poses of salvation, according to the measure of his explicit knowledge ; by which he actually enters into a state of acceptance with God. The Scrip- tures referred to were spoken by our Lord himself, previous to the full re- velation of his character and redemption ; and may be very properly ex- plained of a man's finally and decidedly renouncing his worldly and sinful pursuits, and engaging with diligence and self-denial in a life of devoted- ness to God. ' "Phe broad road leads to destruction ;' the gate by which men enter into it is wide ; for we are all ' born in sin and the children of wrath,' and ' turn every one to his own way' of folly and transgression : but the strait gate opens into ' the narrow way that leadeth unto life ;' and at this the penitent finds admission with difficulty and conflict. As it is strait, (or, in the language of the allegory, a wicket, or a little gate,) the convert can- not carry along with him any of his sinful practices, ungodly companions, N 98 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. over the gate there was written, " Knock, and it shall be opened unto you."P He knocked, therefore, more than once or twice, saying, " May I now enter here? Will he within Open to sorry me, though I have been An undeserving rebel] Then shall I Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high." At last there came a grave person to the gate, named Good- will,* who asked Who was there-? and whence he came ? and what he would have ? p Matt. vii. 8. worldly idols, or carnal confidences, when he strives to enter in at it ; nor can he effectually contend with those enemies that obstruct his passage, unless he wrestle continually v/ith God in prayer, for his gracious assist- ance. But, while we advert to these things, we must not forget, that the sinner returns to God by faith in Christ: genuine repentance comes from him and leads to him ; and the true believer not only trusts in the Lord for salvation, but also seeks his liberty and happiness in his service. To enter in this manner, by Christ the door, is so contrary to man's pride and lusts, to the course of the world, and to the temptations of the devil, that striving or wrestling is more necessary in this than it can be conceived to be in any other kind of conversion. Various things commonly precede this unreserved acceptance of Christ, in the experience of those who are born of God ; but they are not easily distinguishable from many temporary con- victions, impressions, and starts of devotion, which evidently vanish and come to nothing. Yet even this is judiciously distinguished by our author from that view of the cross by which Christian was delivered from his bur- den, for reasons which will speedily be stated. The following lines are here inserted, under an engraving : — ' He that would 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.' * Good-will seems to be an allegorical person, the emblem of the com- passionate love of God to sinners, in and through Jesus Christ (Luke ii. 14.) He ' came from heaven to do the will of him that sent him,' and * he will in no wise cast out any that come to him,' either on account of their former sins, or their present mistakes, infirmities, evil propensities and habits, or THE GATE WILL BE OPENED TO BROKEN-HEARTED THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 99 Chr. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from tlie 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. I am willing with all my heart, said he; and with that he opened the srNVEVs". 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 peculiar temptations. ' He waits to be gracious,' till sinners apply by earn- est persevering prayer for his salvation ; and even the preparation of heart which leads to this is not requisite to induce the Lord to receive them, but to make them willing to apply to him. Numbers give themselves no con- cern about their souls ; others, after convictions, turn back with Pliable, or finally cleave to the counsels of worldly wisdom : but all, who come to Christ with a real desire of his whole salvation, are cordially welcomed ; over them angels rejoice, and in them the Redeemer ' sees of the travail of his soul and is satisfied.' So that inquirers are greatly mistaken when they fear lest Christ should reject them ; since they need only dread being tempted to reject him, or being partial and hypocritical in their application to him. * As sinners become more decided in applying to Christ, and assiduous in the means of grace, Satan, if permitted, will be more vehement in his en- deavours to discourage them; that, if possible, he may induce them to de- sist, and so to come short of the prize. Indeed, the Lord will accomplish the good work which he hath begun by his special grace ; but probably the powers of darkness cannot exactly distinguish between those impressions which are the eflfects of regeneration, and such as result from the excite- ment of natural passions. It is, however, certain, that they attempt to dis- turb those who earnestly cry for mercy, by various suggestions, to which they were wholly strangers, while satisfied with a form of godliness : and that the Christian's grand conflict, to the end of his course, consists in sur- mounting the hinderances and opposition that he experiences, in keeping near to the throne of grace, by fervent, importunate, and persevering prayer. CHRIST TERS T WITH JOY AND TREMBLING. 100 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. the captain : from thence both he, and they that are SATAM ENVIES wlth him, shoot arrows at those that come TER jHE STRAIT yp ^q ^[jjg g^|.g^ jf haplj thcj ffiaj die be- fore they can enter in. Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when TiAN EN- he was got in, the man at the frate asked HE BATE O ' <^ him, who directed him thither? Chr. Evangehst bid me come hither and knock, as TALK BETWEEN I did I and he said, that you, sir, would GOODWILL AND *^ CHRISTIAN. |.g]l jjjg y^\^^^ I jjjugt do. Good. An open door is set before thee, and no man can shut it. Chr. Now I begin to reap the benefit of my ha- zards. 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 re- turn ; but I put my fingers in my ears, and so came on my way. Good. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back ? Chr. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable: but when they saw that they could not prevail, Obstinate went railing back, but Pliable came with me a little way. Good. But why did he not come through ? Chr. We indeed came both together, until we came to the Slough of Despond, into the which we also sud- denly fell. And then was my neighbour Pliable dis- couraged, and would not adventure further. Where- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 101 A MAN MAY HAVE COMPANY WHEN HE SETS OUT FOR HEAVEN, AND VET GO THITHER A- fore, getting out again on the side next to his own house, he told me, I should pos- sess the brave country alone for him : so lone he went his way, and I came mine : he after Obstinate, and I to this gate. Then said Good-will^ Alas, poor man ! is the celes- tial glory of so little esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running the hazard of a few difficulties to obtain it ? Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pli- able, and if I should also say all the christian ac *^ CDSETHHlmSELP truth of myself, it will appear there is no f ^the ^gIt"^" betterment* betwixt him and myself. It is true, he went back to his own house, but I also turned aside to go into the way of death, being persuaded thereto by the carnal argument of one Mr. Worldly Wiseman. Good. Oh, did he light upon you ? What, he would have had you seek for ease at the hands of Mr. Le- V gality ! 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 ; where- fore there was I forced to stop. Good. That mountain has been the death of many, * Our author here puts a very emphatical word into Christian's mouth, (' there is no betterment betwixt him and myself,') which later editors have changed for difference. This is far from an improvement, though the word be more classical : for grace had made an immense difference between Christian and Pliable ; but the former thought his conduct equally criminal, and therefore, in respect to their deservings, there was no betterment be- twixt them. There are many alterations of a similar nature, in which the old copies have been generally followed ; but it would preclude more useful matter were they constantly noted. CHRISTIAN IS COM- FORTED AGAIN, AND DIRECTED YET ON HIS WAY. 102 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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, not- withstanding all that they have done before they come hither; they in no wise are cast out.'' 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 q John vi. 37. * Christian, being admitted at the strait gate, is directed in the narrow way. In the broad road every man may chose a path suited to his inclina- tions, shift about to avoid difficulties, or accommodate himself to circumstan- ces; and he will be sure of company agreeable to his taste. But Christians must follow one another in the narrow way, along the same track, surmount- ing difficulties, facing enemies, and bearing hardships, without any room to evade them: nor is any indulgence given to different tastes, habits, or pro- pensities. It is, therefore, a straitened, or, as some render the word, an afflicted way ; being indeed an habitual course of repentance, faith, love, self-denial, patience, and mortification to sin and the world, according to the rule of the Holy Scriptures. Christ himself is the way, by which we come to the Father and walk with him ; but true faith works by love, and ' sets us in the way of his steps' (Psalm Ixxxv 13.) This path is also straight, as opposed to the crooked ways of wicked men (Psalm cxxv. 5 ;) for it consists in an uniform regard to piety, integrity, sincerity, and kindness, at a dis- tance from all the hypocrisies, frauds, and artifices by which ungodly men wind about, to avoid detection, keep up their credit, deceive others, or im- pose on themselves. The question proposed by Christian implies, that be- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 103 go. It was cast up by the patriarchs, prophets, Christ, and his apoetles, and it is as straight as a rule can make it : this is the way thou must go. But, said Christian, are there no turnings nor windings, by which a stranger may lose christian a ./ AFRAID OF LOSING 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." Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him further, if he could not help him off with christian ^ WEARY0FHI3 his burden that was upon his back,* for as burden. 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, r Matt. vii. 14. lievers are more afraid of missing the way, than encountering hardships in it : and Good-will's answer, that many ways butted down on it, or opened into it, in various directions, shews, that the careless and self-willed are ex- tremely liable to be deceived : but it follows, that all these ways are crooked and wide ; they turn aside fi-om the direct line of living faith and holy obe- dience, and are more soothing, indulgent, and pleasing to corrupt nature than the path of life ; which lies straight forward, and is everywhere con- trary to the bias of the carnal mind. * A general reliance on the mercy of God by faith in Christ, accom- panied with consciousness of sincerity in applying for this salvation, gives some encouragement to the convinced sinner's hope ; and transient joys are often vouchsafed in a large proportion to unestablished believers : but more distinct views of the glory of the gospel are necessary to abiding peace. The young convert's consolations resemble the breaking forth of the sun in a cloudy and tempestuous day ; those of the experienced Christian, the sun's more constant light in settled weather, which is not long together interrup- ted, though it be sometimes dimmed by intervening clouds. Believers should not, therefore, rest in such transient glimpses, but press forward to more abiding peace and joy : and, as Christ does not in general bestow this blessing on the unestablished, the endeavours of ministers to do so must be Tain. 104 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. THERE IS NO DE- LIVERANCE FROM THE GUILT AND BT:RDEN0FSIN, BUT BY THE DEATH AND BLOOD O r CHRIST until thou comest to the place of deliver- ance ; for there it will fall from thy back ] of itself. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his journey. So the other told him, that by that he was gone some distance from the gate, he would come at the house of the Interpreter, at whose door he should knock, and he would show him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of his friend, and he again bid him God speed. Then he went on, till he came at the house of the to'^'th'e'''' house Interpreter,* where he knocked over and pret^r!" ''''^^^' 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 * We continually meet with fresh proofs of our author's exact acquaint- ance with the Scriptures, his sound judgment, deep experience, and exten- sive observation. With great propriety he places the house of the Inter- preter beyond the strait gate : for the knowledge of divine things, which precedes conversion to God by faith in Christ, is very scanty, compared with the diligent believer's subsequent attainments. A few leading truths deeply impressed on the heart and producing efficacious fears, hopes, desires, and affections, characterize the state of a new-born babe : but reliance on the mercy of God through Jesus Christ prepares him to receive further instruc- tion : and, * having tasted that the Lord is gracious, he desires the sincere milk of the word, that he may grow thereby.' The Interpreter is an emblem of the teaching of the Holy Spirit, according to the Scripture, by means of reading, hearing, praying, and meditating, accompanied by daily experience and observation. Believers depend on this continual teaching, and are not satisfied with human instruction, but look to the fountain of wisdom, that they may be delivered from prejudice, preserved from error, and enabled to profit by the ministry of the word. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 105 a little time, came to Christian, and asked him what he would have. 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 help- ful to me on my journey. Then said the Interpreter, Come in ; I will show thee that which will be profitable to thee.* So xaIned? ^'*'^^^' he commanded his man to light the candle, illumination. * The condescending love of the Holy Spirit, in readily granting the desires of those who apply for his teaching, notwithstanding their sins, prejudices, and slowness of heart to understand, can never sufficiently be admired. (Psalm cxliii. 10.) He employs men as his instruments, who, by explaining the Scriptures, may be said to 'light the candle:' but he alone efficaciously opens the mind to instruction. ' The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him.' (Psalm xxv. 14.) The Interpreter leads them apart to communicate to them heavenly wisdom, which is hidden from the most sagacious of worldly men. The first lesson here inculcated relates to the character of the true minister : for nothing can be more important to every one who enquires the way to heaven, than to be able to distinguish faithful pastors from hirelings, blind guides, and false teachers ; who are Satan's principal agents in deceiving mankind, and in preventing the sta- bility, consistency, and fruitfulness of believers. This portrait and its key need no explanation : but all, who sustain, or mean to assume the sacred office, should seriously examine it, clause by clause, with the Scriptures from which it is deduced ; inquiring impartially how far they resemble it, and praying earnestly for more exact conformity; and every one should be extremely careful not to intrust his soul to the guidance of those who are wholly unlike this emblematic representation. For surely a slothful, friv- olous, dissipated, licentious, ambitious, profane, or contentious man, in the garb of a minister, cannot safely be trusted as a guide in the way to heaven! He, who never studies, or studies any thing in preference to the Bible, can- not be qualified to ' unfold dark things to sinners !' and he, who is abundantly more careful about his income, ease, or consequence, than about the souls of his flock, cannot be followed without the most evident- danger and the most inexcusable folly ! For who would employ an ignorant, indolent, or fraudulent lawyer, or physician, merely because he happened to live in the same parish 1 0 106 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. and bid Christian follow him; so he had hhn into a private room, and bid his man open a door ; the which CHRISTIAN SEES whcn he had done, Christian saw the A BRAVEPICTURE. picture of a very grave person hang up THE picV^RE." "" against the wall ; and this was the fashion of it : he had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, the law of truth was written upon his lips, the world was behind his back ; he stood as if he pleaded with men, and a crown of gold did hang over his head. Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? Inter. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand ; he can beget children,^ travail in birth with children/ and nurse them himself when they are born And whereas thou seest him with his eyes lift up to MEANING OF THE hcavcu, thc bcst 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, wHir HE SHOWED Said thc Interpreter, I have showed thee "RST. 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 M^ay. 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 s 1 Cor. iv. 15. t Gal. iv. 19. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 107 pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes down to death. Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a very large parlour, that was full of dust, because never swept ; the which after he had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter called for a man to sweep. Now, when he began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian, had almost therewith been choked.* Then said the Interpreter to a damsel that * All true believers desire sanctification, of which the moral law is the standard: yet every attempt to produce conformity in heart and life to that standard, by regarding the precepts, apart from the truths and promises, of Scripture, excites and discovers the evils which before lay dormant in the heart; according to the significant emblem here adduced. Mere moral preaching, indeed, has no such effect: because in the place of the divine Jaw, it substitutes another rule, which is so vague, that self-flattery will en- able almost any man, who is not scandalously vicious, to deem himself justi- fied according to it : so that, instead of enmity being excited in the heart, he allows the rule by which he is approved ; and loves his idea of God, be- cause it accords so well with his own character. But, when the holy law is brought with energy to the conscience, its strictness, spirituality, and severity, awaken the latent enmity of the heart: the absolute self-denial it demands, even in the most plausible claims of self-love, its express prohibi- tion of the darling sin, with the experienced impracticability of adequate obe- dience, and the awful sentence it denounces against every transgressor, con- cur in exciting opposition to it, and even to him who gave it. Moreover, the consciousness of a hankering after things prohibited, and a conviction of the evil of such concupiscence, induce a man to conclude that he is viler than ever; and, indeed, clearer knowledge must aggravate the guilt of every sin. A little discouragement of this kind prevails with numbers to cease from all endeavours, at least for a season; supposing that at present it is impossible for them to serve God ; but others, being more deeply humbled, and taken off from all self-confidence, are thus prepared to under- stand and welcome the free salvation of the Gospel. The law then appears disarmed of its curse, as the rule and standard of lioliness ; while rigliteous- ness and strength are sought by faith in Jesus Christ : the believer is en- couraged by the truths and promises of the Gospel, excited by its motives, and inclined by the Holy Spirit, to desire advancing sanctification : while by the prevalence of hope and love his inward enmity is subdued, and he delights in 'cleansing himself from all filthiness of flesh and spirit, and perfecting holiness in the fear of God.' 108 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. stood by, Bring hither water, and sprinkle the room , the which when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure. Then said Christian, What means this ? 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." 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 van- quished and subdued, and the soul made clean, through the faith of it, and consequently fit for the King of glory to inhabit.'' I saw moreover in my dream, that the Interpreter took him by the hand, and had him into a little room, HE SHOWED HIM whcrc sat two little children, each one in Passion and pa- TiKNCE. }-jjg chair. The name of the eldest was u Rom. V. 20. vii. 7—11. 1 Cor. xv. 56. V John xiv. 21—23. xv. 3. Acts xv. 9. Rom. xvi. 25, 2G. Eph. v. 26. PASSION WILL HAVE IT NOW. PATIENCE 13 FOR WAITING. PASSION HATH HIS DESIRE, AND CKLY LAVISH- ALL AWAY. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 109 Passion, and the name of the other Patience* Passion seemed to be much discontented, but Patience was very quiet. Then Christian asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion ? The Inter- preter answered. The governor of them would have him stay for his best things till the beginning of the next year ; but he will have all now. But Patience is willing to wait. Then I saw that one came to Passion, and brought him a bag of treasure, and poured it down at his feet: the which he took up, and H"- 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. * In this instructive emblem, Passion represents the prevalence of the carnal affections over reason and religion. Whatever be the object, this dominion of the passions produces fretfulness and childish perverseness, when a man cannot obtain the imagined good his heart is set upon, which wholly relates to the present life. But this impatience of delay or disap- pointment is succeeded by pride, insolence, contempt of others, and inor- dinate momentary delight, if he be indulged with the possession of his idol. Such men may scorn believers as foolish and wretched : but they soon grow dissatisfied with success, and speedily lavish away their good things. On the other hand, Patience is the emblem of those who quietly and meekly wait for future happiness, renouncing present things for the sake of it. True riches, honours, and pleasures are intended for them, but not here ; and as well educated little children, they simply wait for them till the appointed season, in the way of patience and obedience. Reason deterrnines, that a greater and more permanent good hereafter is preferable to a less and fleeting enjoyment at present : faith realizes, as attainable, a felicity infinitely more valuable than all which this world can possibly propose to us : so that in this respect the life of faith is the reign of reason over pas- sion, while unbelief makes way for the triumph of passion over reason. Nor can any thing be more essential to practical religion than an abiding conviction, that it is the only true wisdom, uniformly and cheerfully to part with every temporal good, whenever it interferes with the grand concerns of eternity. 110 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more fully to me. So he said, These two lads are figures,- Passion of the men of this world, and Patience of the men of that which is to come : for, as here thou seest, Passion will have all now, this year, that is to say, in this world ; so are the men of this world : they must have all their good things now ; they cannot stay till the next year, that is, until the next world, for their portion of good. THE WORLDLY That Drovcrb, "A bird in the hand is MAN FOR A BIRD '■ IN THE HAND. worth two in the bush," is of more au- thority 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 pre- sently left him nothing but rags ; so will it be with all such men at the end of this world. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom, and that upon many accounts. 1. Because he stays for the best things. 2. And also because he will have the glory of his, when the other has nothing but rags. Inter. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world will never wear out ; but these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not so much THINGS THAT Tcasou to laugh at Patience, because he ARE FIRST MUST ~ ' tL'Ing^thIt III had his good things first, as Patience will iNG. '"''' '"'^^ 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 PATIENCE HAD THE BEST WISDOM. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Ill DIVES HA D HI8 GOOD TUINOa FIRST. said of Dives, " In thy life-time tliou re- ceivedst thy good things, and hkewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.'"'' Chr. Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are now, but to wait for things to come. Inter. You say truth, for the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are not the first '■ ° THINGS ARE BUT seen are eternal.'' But though this be so, temporal. 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. 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 con- w Luke xvi. 19—31. x 2 Cor. iv. 18. 112 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. tinually, with the oil of his grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart j by the means of wnich, notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his people prove gracious still/ And in that thou sawest, that the man stood behind the wall to maintain the fire ; this is to teach thee, that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of grace is maintained in the soul.* I saw also that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was built a stately palace, beautiful to behold, at the sight of which Christian was greatly delighted ; he saw also upon the top thereof certain persons walking, who were clothed all in gold.t y 2 Cor. xii. 9. * The doctrine of the true believer's final perseverance is here stated in 60 guarded a manner as to preclude every abuse of it. The emblem implies, that the soul is indeed quickened by special grace, and endued with holy affections ; and this heavenly flame is not almost extinguished or covered with ashes for many years, and then revived a little at the closing scene ; but it 'burns brighter and hotter,' notwithstanding the opposition of depraved nature, and the unremitted efforts of Satan to quench it; for the Lord secretly feeds it with the oil of his grace. Unbelievers can persevere in nothing but impiety or hypocrisy ; when a professor remarkably loses the vigour of his affections, the reality of his conversion becomes doubtful, and he can take no warranted encouragement from the doctrine in question ; but when any one grows more spiritual, zealous, humble, and exemplary, in the midst of harassing temptations, while he gives the whole glory to the Lord, he may take comfort from the assurance, that ' he shall be kept by his power, through faith, unto salvation.' Yet the way, in which the tempted are preserved, often so far exceeds their expectations, that they are a wonder to themselves: every thing seems to concur in giving Satan advantage against them, and his efforts appear very successful ; yet they continue from year to year, ' cleaving with purpose of heart unto the Lord,' trusting in his mercy, and desirous of living to his glory. The instruction especially in- culcated by this emblem is, an entire reliance on the secret but powerful influence of divine grace, to maintain and carry on the sanctifying work that has been begun in the sonl. t Many desire the joys and glories of heaven (according to their carnal THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 113 Then said Christian, May we go in thither? Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up toward the door of the palace ; and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at a table-side, with a book and his ink-horn before him, to take the names of them that should enter therein ; he saw also that in the door-way stood many men in armour to keep it, being resolved to do to the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in amaze. At last, when every man started back for fear of the armed men. Christian saw a man of a very stout coun- the valiant man. tenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying. Set down my name, sir; the which when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put a helmet upon his head, and rush toward the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly force ; but the man, not at all discouraged, fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely. So after he had received and given many wounds to those that attempted to keep ideas of them,) but few are willing to ' fight the good fight of faith :' yet, without this fixed purpose of heart, the result of Divine grace, profession will end in apostasy : — ' the man began to build, but was not able to finish.' This is emphatically taught us by the next emblem. Salvation is altogether free and without price : but we must learn to value it so highly as to venture or suffer ' the loss of all things that we may win Christ ;' or we shall not be able to break through the combined opposition of the world, the flesh, and the devil. If we fear any mischief that our enemies can attempt against us, more than coming short of salvation, we shall certainly perish, notwith- standing our notions and convictions. We should, therefore, count our cost, and pray for courage and constancy, that we may give in our names as in earnest to win the prize : then, 'putting on the whole armour of God,' and relying on his grace, we must fight our way through with patience and re- solution ; while many, ' being harnassed and carrying bows,' shamefully ' turn back in the day of battle.' P 114 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESfci him out, he cut his way through them all, and pressed forward into the palace ; at which there was a pleasant voice heard from those that were within, even those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying, " Come in, come in ; Eternal glory thou shall 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 DESPAIR LIKE AN ^ark Toom, where there sat a man in an IRON CAGE. iron cage. Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad : he sat with his eyes looking down to the ground, his hands * The time, spent in acquiring knowledge, and sound judgment, is not lost, though it may seem to retard a man's progress, or interfere with his more active services : and the next emblem is admirably suited to teach the young convert watchfulness and caution. Christian's discourse with the man in the iron cage sufficiently explains the author's meaning ; but it has been observed by several persons, that the man's opinion of his own case, does not prove that it was indeed desperate. Doubtless these fears prevail in some cases of deep despondency, when there is every reason to conclude them groundless ; and we should always propose the free grace of the Gos- pel to those that have sinned in the most aggravated manner, when they become sensible of their guilt and danger : yet it is an awful fact, that some are thus ' shut up under despair,' beyond relief; and ' it is impossible to renew them to repentance.' No true penitent, therefore, can be in this case : and we are commanded ' in meekness to instruct those that oppose themselves, if peradventure God will give them repentance.' But, at the same time, we should leave the doom of apparent apostates to God ; and improve their example, as a warning to ourselves and others, not to venture one step in so dangerous a path. This our author has judiciously attempted, and we should be careful not to counteract his obvious intention. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 115 folded together; and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then said Christian, What means this? At which the Interpreter bid him talk with the man. Then said Christian to the man, What art thou? The man answered, I am what I was not once. Chr. What wast thou once ? 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.'' 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. O now I cannot ! Chr. But how camest thou into this condition ? Man. I left off to watch and be sober ; I laid the reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the light of the word, and the goodness of God ; I have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone ; I tempted the devil, and he is come to me ; I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me : I have so hardened my heart, that I cannot repent. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no hope for such a man as this ? Ask him, said the Interpreter. Then said Christian, Is there no hope, tiut 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 ; I have despised his person, I have despised his righteousness, z Luke viii. 13. jgM 116 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. I have counted his blood an unholy thing ; I have done despite to the Spirit of grace :^ therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful threatenings, faithful threatenings, of certain judgment and fiery indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary. Chr. For what did you bring yourself into this condition ? Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much delight: but now every one of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning M^orm. Chr. But canst thou not now repent and turn ? Man. God hath denied me repentance. His word gives me no encouragement to believe j 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 ! Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee. 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 then thou shalt go on thy way. So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a chamber, where there was one rising out of bed ; and as he put on his raiment, he shook and trem- bled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus a Luke xix. 14. Heb. vi. 4—6. x. 28, 29. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 117 tremble ? The Interpreter then bid him tell to Chris- tian 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 exceed- ino[ black : also it thundered and liijhtened 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 un- usual rate; upon which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sitting upon a cloud, attended with the thousands of heaven : they were all in flaming fire, also the heavens were on a burning flame. I heard then a voice, saying, " Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment;" and with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth.** Some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward; and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains:" then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame that issued out and came from before him, a convenient dis- tance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar.** I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud, " Gather together the tares, the chafl", and stubble, and cast them into the burning lake ;" and with that the bottomless pit opened, just whereabout I stood, out of the mouth of which there came, in an abundant man- ner, smoke and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to the same persons, " Gather my wheat into the garner."^ And with that I saw many catched up and carried away into the clouds,^ but I was left b John V. 28, 29. 1 Cor. xv. 51—58. 2 Thess. i. 7—10. Jude 14, 15. Rev. xx. 11-15. c Psalm 1. 1—3, 22. Isa. xxvi. 20, 21. Mic. vii. 16, 17. d Dan. vii. 9, 10. Mai. iii. 2, 3. e Mai. iv. 2. Matt. iii. 12. xiii. 30. Luke iii. 17. f 1 Thess. iv. 13—18. 118 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. behind. I also sought to hide myself, but I could not, for the Man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me : my sins also came into my mind, and my conscience did accuse me on every side.^ Upon this I awoke 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 g Rom. ii. 14, 15. * Our safety consists in a due proportion of hope and fear: when devoid of hope, we resemble a ship without an anchor ; when unrestrained by fear, we are like the same vessel under full sail, without ballast (1 Pet. i. 13 — 17.) Indiscriminate censures of all fear as the result of unbelief, and unguarded commendations of strong confidence, without respect to the spirit and con- duct of professors, not only lead to much self-deception, but also tend to make believers unstable, unwatchful, and even uncomfortable; for the numble often cannot attain to tliat confidence, that is represented almost as essential to faith ; and true comfort is the effect of watchfulness, diligence, and circumspection. Upon the whole, what lessons could possibly have been selected of greater importance, or more suited to establish the new convert, than these are, which our author has most ingeniously and agreeably incul- cated, under the emblem of the Interpreter's curiosities 1 They are indeed the principal subjects which faithful ministers enforce, publicly and in private, on all who begin to profess the Gospel ; and which every true dis ciple of Christ daily seeks to have more clearly discovered to his mind, and more deeply impressed upon his heart. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 119 they may be as a goad in thy sides, to prick thee for- ward in the way thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his journey. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee, good Christian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the city. So Christian went on his way, saying, " Here I have seen things rare and profitable, Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable In what I have begun to take in hand ; Then let me think on them, and understand Wherefore they showed me were, and let me be Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee." 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.'' Up this way, therefore, did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back.* h Isaiah xxvi. I. * Divine illumination in many respects tends to quicken the believer's hopes and fears, and to increase his earnestness and diligence ; but nothing can finally relieve him from his burden, except the clear discovery of the nature and glory of redemption. With more general views of the subject, and an implicit reliance on God's mercy through Jesus Christ, the humbled sinner enters the way of life, which is walled by salvation : yet he is op- pressed with an habitual sense of guilt, and often bowed down with fears, till ' the Comforter, who glorifies Christ, receives of his, and shews it to him' (John xvi. 14.) When in this divine light the soul contemplates the Redeemer's cross, and discerns more clearly his love to lost sinners in thus dying for them; the motive and efficacy of his intense sufferings; the glory of the Divine perfections harmoniously displayed in this surprising expe- dient for saving the lost; the honour of the Divine law and government, and the evil and desert of sin, most energetically proclaimed in this way of par- doning transgressors and reconciling enemies ; and the perfect freeness and sufficiency of this salvation ; then ' his conscience is purged from dead works to serve the living God-' by a simple reliance on the atoning blood of Em- 120 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 se- pulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more. Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said manuel. This deliverance from the burden of guilt is in some respects final, as to the well-instructed and consistent believer ; his former sins are buried, no more to be his terror and distress. He will indeed be deeply humbled under a sense of his guilt, and sometimes he may question his ac- ceptance; but his distress, before he understood the way of deliverance, was habitual, except in a few transient seasons of relief, and often oppressed him when most diligent and watchful ; but now he is only burdened when he has been betrayed into sin, or when struggling with peculiar temptations ; and he constantly finds relief by looking to the cross. Many indeed never attain to this habitual peace : this is the effect of remaining ignorance, error, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 121 LEASES US OF OUX LT AND BCR- WE ARE AS THOSE THAT LEAP FOR JOY. with a merry heart, He hath ffiven me when Gob re •' •^ LEASES US OF OUS rest by his sorrow, and hfe by his death. H'^^ Then he stood still a while, to look and wonder, for it was very surprising to him that the sight of the cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked,* therefore, and looked again, even till the or negligence, which scriptural instructions are the proper means of ob- viating. But it was not probable that our autlior should, so to speak, draw the character of his hero from the lowest order of hopeful professors ; it may rather call for our admiration, that, in an allegory (which is the pecu- liar effort of a vigorous imagination) he was preserved, by uncommon strength of mind and depth of judgment, from stating Christian's experience above the general attainments of consistent believers, under solid in- structions. * Cliristian's tears, amidst his gladness, intimate that deliverance from guilt, by faith in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, tends to increase humilia- tion, sorrow for sin, and abhorrence of it; though it mingles even those af- fections with a sweet and solid pleasure. By the ' three shining ones,' the author might allude to the ministration of angels as conducive to the com- fort of the heirs of salvation; but he could not mean to ascribe Christian's confidence to any impressions, or suggestions of texts to him by a voice, or in a dream ; any more than he intended, by his views of the cross, to sanc- tion the account that persons of heated imagination have given, of their having seen one hang on a cross, covered with blood, who told them their sins were pardoned ; while it has been evident, that they never understood the spiritual glory, or the sanctifying tendency of the doctrine of a crucified Saviour. Such things are the mere delusions of enthusiasm, from which our author was remarkably free : but the nature of an allegory led him to this method of describing the happy change that takes place in the pilgrim's experience, when he obtains peace and joy in believing. His uniform doctrine sufficiently shews that he considers spiritual apprehensions of the nature of the atonement as the only source of genuine peace and comfort. And, as the 'mark in the forehead' plainly signifies the renewal of the soul to holiness, so that the mind of Christ may appear in the outward conduct, connected with an open profession of faith, while the ' roll with a seal upon it' denotes such an assurance of acceptance, as appears most clear and satisfac- tory, when the believer most attentively compares his views, experiences, de- sires, and purposes, with the Holy Scriptures ; so he could not possibly intend to ascribe such effects to any other agent than the Holy Spirit ; who by en- abling a man to exercise all filial affections towards God in an enlarged degree, as ' the Spirit of adoption bears witness' with his conscience, that Q A CHRISTI AN CA SING, THOUGH A LONE, \V DOTH JOY IN HIS HEA 122 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. springs that were in his head sent the waters down his cheeks.' Now as he stood looking and weeping, be- hold, 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 ^'"^ the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him with change of raiment ; the third also set a mark on his forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it,' which he bid him look N on as he ran, and that he should give it ,v"he7"god in at the celestial gate : so they went GIVE HIM ^ '' •''^- their way. Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing, " Thus far did I come laden with my sin, Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in, Till I came hither : What a place is this! Must here be the beginning of my bliss? Must here the burden fall from off my back 1 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 Zech. xii. 10. k Mark ii. 5. 1 Zech. iii. 4. Eph. i. 13. God is reconciled to him, having pardoned all his sins ; that he is justified by faith in the righteousness of Emmanuel ; and that he is a child of God, and an heir of heaven. These things are clear and intelligible to those who have experienced this happy change ; and the abiding effects of their joy in the Lord, upon their dispositions and conduct (like the impression of the seal after the wax is cooled) distinguish it from the confidence and comfort of hypocrites and enthusiasts. It must, however, continue to be ' the secret of the Lord, with them that fear him,' ' hidden manna,' and ' a white stone, having in it a new name written, which no man knoweth saving he that receiveth it.' Psalm xv. 14; Rev. ii. 17. Here again we meet with an engraving, and the following lines : — ' Who's this ■? The Pilgrim. How 1 '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.' SIMPLE, SLOTR, AND PRESUMPTION, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 123 I saw then in my dream,* that he went on thus, even until he came at a bottom, where he saw, a httle 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 Pre- sumption. Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to them, if peradventure he might awake them, and cried. You are like them that sleep on the top of a mast,"" for the Dead Sea is under you, a gulf that hath no bottom: awake, therefore, and come away; be willing also, and I will help you off with your irons. He also told them, If he that goeth about like a roaring lion comes by, you will certainly become a prey to his teeth." With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort: Simple said, I see no J^rj'.oN Vill""; danger. Sloth said. Yet a little more "o/the EVEr'^" m Prov. xxiii. 34. n 1 Pet. v. 8. * We were before informed, that other ways 'butted down upon' the straight way; and the connexion of the allegory required the introduction of various characters, besides that of the true believer. Many may outwardly walk in the ways of religion, and seem to be pilgrims, who are destitute of those 'things which accompany salvation.' The three allegorical persons next introduced are nearly related ; they appear to be pilgrims, but are a little out of the way, asleep, and fettered. Many of this description are found, where the truth is preached, as well as elsewhere : they hear and learn to talk about the Gospel; have transient convictions, which are soon quieted; cleave to the world, and rest more securely in the bondage of sin and Sa- tan, by means of their profession of religion. They reject or pervert all instruction, hate all trouble, yet are confident that every thing is and will be well with them, while teachers, after their own hearts, lull them with a syren's song, by confounding the form with the power of godliness ; and if any one attempt, in the most affectionate manner to warn them of their danger, they answer (according to the tenor of the words here used,) ' Mind your own business ; we see no danger ; you shall not disturb our com.posure or induce us to make so much ado about religion: see to yourselves, and leave us to ourselves.' Thus they sleep on till death and judgment awake them. 124 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. sleep And Presumption said, Every tub must stand upon i^s own bottom. And so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way. Yet he was troubled to think,* that men in that danger should so little esteem the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by awakening of them, counselling of them, and proffering to help them off with their irons. And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied two men come tumbling over the wall, on the left hand of the narrow way ; and they made up apace to him. The name of the one was Formalist, and the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I said, they drew up unto him, who thus entered with them into discourse. Chr. Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither do you go ? CHRISTIAN TALKS WITH THEld. * The true Christian will always be troubled when he thinks of the vain confidence of many professors : but he is more surprised by it at first than afterwards ; for he sets out with the idea, that all apparently religious peo- ple sincerely seek the salvation of God : but at length experience draws his attention to those parts of Scripture which mention tares among the wheat, and foolish virgins among the wise. Formalist and Hypocrisy soon come in his way ; these near relations represent such as by notions and external observances deceive themselves, and such as more grossly attempt to im- pose upon others. They are both actuated by vain glory, and seek the applause of men in their religious profession and most zealous performances ; while the credit thus acquired subserves also their temporal interest: but repentance, conversion, and the life of faith, would not only cost them too much labour, but destroy the very principle by which they are actuated. By a much ' shorter cut,' they become a part of the visible church, are satis- fied with a form of godliness, and kept in countenance by great numbers among every description of professing Christians, and the example of mul- titudes m every age. Their confidence, however, will not bear the light of Scripture ; they therefore shrink from investigation, and treat with derision and reproaches all who would convince them of their fatal mistake, or shew them the real nature of evangelical religion. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 125 Form, and Hyp. We were born in the Jand of Vain- glory, and are going for praise to Mount Zion. Chr. Why came you not in at the gate which standeth at the beginning of the way ? Know ye not that it is written, that " he that cometh not in by the door, but chmbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber?"" 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 cHmb 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 ? 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. But, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial at law ? They told him. That custom, it being of so long standinof as above a thousand years, " J ^ THEYTHATCOMK would doubtless now be admitted as a L^ut^noVIyVhe .^'■\ 11 • J- 1 • 1 A 1 DOOR, THINK THAT thmg leofal by an impartial mdiye. And they can say ^ ^ "^ ^ JO SOMETHING IS besides, say they, if we get into the way, V:^:ro^l\Jl what matter is it which way we get in? If we are in, we are in : thou art but in the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate ; and we also are in the way, that came tumbling over the wall : wherein now is thy condition better than ours ? Chr. I walk by the rule of my Master ; you walk by the rude working of your fancies. You are counted o John X. 1. 126 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. thieves already by the Lord of the way ; therefore 1 doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way. You come in by yourselves without his direc- tion, 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 Chris- tian, that, as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not but that they should as conscientiously do them as he. Therefore, said they, we see not wherein thou differest from us, but by the coat that is on thy back, which was, as we trow, given thee by some of thy neigh- bours, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. Chr. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved,^ since you came not in by the door. And as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the place whither I go ; and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a token CHRISTIAN His of kindness to me, for I had nothing but GOT HIS lord's t r iii'i A^ t COAT CM HIS BACK, Taffs bciore. And, besides, thus 1 com- AND IS COMFORT- " ED THEREWITH, f^j.^ mysclf as I go. Surely, think I, when I come to the gate of the city, the Lord thereof ; COMFORT- will know me for good, since I have his O WITH 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 p Gal. ii. 16. HE IS ED ALS MARK AND HIS ROLL. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 127 bid to give it in at the celestial gate, in token of my certain going in after it; all which things I doubt you want, and want them because you came not in at the gate. To these things they gave him no answer, only they looked upon each other, and laughed. Then I saw that they all went on, save that Christian kept before, who had no more talk but with himself, and christian has , . • 1 • TALK WITH HIM- that sometnnes sighmgly,* 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 Ifrl^'^f'^^^^i^^l they came to the foot of the hill Difficulty t at the * Even such Christians as are most assured of their acceptance, and com- petent to perceive the awful delusions of false professors, find cause for sighs amidst their comforts, when employed in serious retired self-reflection. No- thing can exclude the uneasiness which arises from indwelling- sin, with its unavoidable effects, and from the crimes and miseries they witness around them. f The hill Difficulty represents those circumstances which require pecu- liar self-denial and exertion, that commonly prove the believer's sincerity, after he has first obtained ' a good hope through grace.' The opposition of the world, the renunciation of temporal interests, or the painful task of over- coming inveterate evil habits or constitutional propensities (which dur\ ng his first anxious earnestness seemed perhaps to be destroyed, though in fact they were only suspended :) these and such like trials prove a severe test ; but there is no hope, except in pressing forward ; and the encouragements, received under the faithftil ministry of the Gospel, prepare the soul for every conflict and effort. There are, however, by-ways ; and the difficulty may be avoided without a man's renouncing his profession: he may decline the self-denying duty, or refuse the demanded sacrifice, and find some plausible excuse to his own conscience, or among his neighbours. But the true be- liever will be suspicious of these easier ways, on the right hand or the left : his path lies straight forward, and cannot be travelled without ascending the hill : which he desires to do, because his grand concern is to be found right at last. On the contrary, they who chiefly desire, at a cheap rate, to keep up their credit and confidence, will venture into perilous or ruinous paths, 128 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. bottom of which was a spring. There were al^o in the same place two other ways, besides that which came straight from the gate : one turned to the left hand, and the other to the right, at the bottom of the hill ; but the narrow way lay right up the hill, and the name of tha going up the side of the hill is called Difficulty. Christian now went to the spring, and drank thereof to refresh himself,*! and then he 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 DANGER OF the wav whicli is called Danger, which TDRNINO OUT OF ~ THE WAV. |g(j jjj(jj jjji^Q ^ great wood; and the other took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him q Isaiah xlix. 10—12. till they either openly apostatize, or get entangled in some fatal delusion, and are heard of no more among the people of God. These lines are here inserted — ' Shall they who wrong begin yet rightly endl Shall they at all have safety for their friend ] No, no ; in headstrong manner they set out. And headlong they will fall at last, no doubt.' THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 129 into a wide field, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more. I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I perceived he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands and his knees, because of the steepness of the place.* Now about the midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant arbour, made by the Lord of the hill, for aword of grace. the refreshment of weary travellers. Thither, therefore. Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him : then he pulled his roll out of his bosom, and read therein to his comfort ; he also now began afresh to take a review of the coat or garment that was given to him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing himself a while, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleep, which detained him in that place until it was almost night ; and in his sleep his roll fell out of his hand. Now, as he was sleeping, there came one to him, and awaked him, saying, "Go to the * The difficulties of believers often seem to increase as they proceed ; this damps their spirits, and they find more painful exertion requisite in pressing forward, than they expected, especially when they were rejoicing in the Lord : he however helps them, and provides for their refreshment, that they may not faint. But, whether their trials be moderated, or remark- able divine consolations be vouchsafed, it is, alas ! very common for them to presume too much on their perseverance hitherto, and on the privileges to which they have been admitted: thus their ardour abates, their diligence and vigilance are relaxed, and they venture to allow themselves some respite from exertion. Then drowsiness steals upon them, darkness envelopes their souls, the evidences of their acceptance are obscured or lost, and the event would be fatal, did not the Lord excite them to renewed earnestness by sal- utary warnings and alarms. Nor are believers at any time more exposed to this temptation, than when outward ease has succeeded to great hardships, patiently and conscientiously endured ; for at such a crisis they are least dis- posed to question their own sincerity ; and Satan is sure to employ all his subtlety to lull them into such a security as is in fact an abuse of the Lord's special goodners vouchsafed to them. R HE THAT SLEEPS IS A LOSER. 130 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ant, thou sluggard, consider her ways, and be wise.'" And with that, Christian suddenly started up, and sped him on his way, and went apace till he came to the top of the hill. Now when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came two men running amain ; the name of the one CHRISTIAN MEETS was Tiuiorous, and of the other Mistrust : WITH MISTRUST ^ND TiMORons. iQ 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.* r Prov. vi. 6. * Some persons are better prepared to struggle through difficulties, than to face dangers ; alarming convictions will induce thpm to exercise a tem- porary self-denial, and to exert themselves with diligence ; yet the very ap- pearance of persecution will drive them back to their forsaken courses and companions. Through unbelief, distrust, and timidity, they fear the rage of men more than the wrath of God ; and never consider how easily the Lord can restrain or disarm the fiercest persecutors. Even true Christians are sometimes alarmed by the discourse of such persons ; but, as they believe the word of God, they are ' moved by fear' to go forward at all hazards : such terrors, as induce mere professors to apostasy, excite upright souls to renewed self-examination by the Holy Scriptures, that they may ' rejoice in hope' amidst their perils and tribulations ; and this often tends to discover to them those decays and losses, in respect of the vigour of holy affection, and the evidences of their acceptance, which had before escaped their notice. Christian's perplexity, fear, sorrow, remorse, redoubled earnestness, com- plaints, and self-reproachings, when he missed his roll, and went back to seek it, exactly suit the experience of humble and conscientious believers, when unwatchfulness has brought their state into uncertainty ; but they do not at all accord to that of professors, who strive against all doubts indis- criminately, more than against any sin whatever, which is not connected with open scandal ; who strive hard to keep up their confidence against evidence, amidst continued negligence and allowed sins ; and exclaim against sighs, tears, and tenderness of conscience, as legality and unbelief. Banyan would have excluded such professors from the comjjany of his pilgrims, though they often pass muster in modern times. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 131 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. 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 ; christian i.-. _i* J ' r C J j.\ 1 T/:* SHAKES OFF FEAR. to go lorward is tear oi death, and hie everlasting beyond it : I will yet go forward. So Mis- trust 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 com- christian miss- forted : but he felt, and found it not. WHERE^N °he USED TO BE Then was Christian in great distress, comforted. 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 he is perplexed 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 forgiveness for that foolish fact, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart? Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully looking on this side CHRISTIAN BE WAILS HIS TOOL tSH SLEEPING. 132 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find his roll, that had been his comfort so many times in his journey. He went thus till he came again within sight of the arbour w here he sat and slept ; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind. Thus, therefore, he now went on, bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, O wretched man that I am ! that I should sleep in the day-time !^ that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty ! that I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims ! How many steps have I taken in vain ! Thus it happened to Israel ; for their sin they were sent back again by the way of the Red Sea; and I am made to tread those steps with sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How far might I have been on my way by this time ! I am made to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed not to have trod but once : yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is almost spent. O that I had not slept ! Now by this time he was come to the arbour again,* 8 1 Thess. V. 7, 8. Rev. ii. 4, 5. * By means of extraordinary diligence, with renewed application to the blood of Christ, the believer will in time recover his warranted confidence, and God will ' restore to him the joy of his salvation :' but he must, as it were, pass repeatedly over the same ground with sorrow, which, had it not been for his negligence, he might have passed at once with comfort. Instead of the words, ' as God would have it,' all the old copies read, ' as Christian would have it ;' which must mean, that the Lord fully granted his desires. But modern editors have substituted, ' as Providence would have it,' which is indeed clear sense, but not much in our author's manner, who perhaps would rather have ascribed Christian's success to special grace ; THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 133 where for a while he sat down and wept; christian find- but at last, (as God would have it,) look- j;"^"^^ «" '•°^'' ing sorrowfully down under the settle, there he espied his roll, the which he with trembling and haste catched up and put into his bosom. But who can tell how joy- ful this man was when he had gotten his roll again! For this roll was the assurance of his life, and accept- ance at the desired haven. Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey. But, O how nimbly did he go up the rest of the hill ! Yet before he got up, the sun went down upon Christian ; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to his remem- brance; and thus he again began to condole with him- self:* 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! 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 yet, a3 some mistake seems to have crept into the old editions, I have ven- tured my conjecture in the emendation of it, of which the reader may judge for himself. * Believers may recover their evidences of acceptance, and yet suffer many troubles as the effects of their past un watchfulness. The Lord re- bukes and chastens those whom he loves : genuine comfort springs imme- diately from the vigorous exercise of holy affections in communion with God, which may be suspended even when no doubts are entertained of final salvation ; and the true penitent is least disposed to forgive himself, when most satisfied that the Lord hath forgiven him. 134 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. escape being by them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on his way. But while he was bewaihng his unhappy miscarriage, he Hft up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful, and it stood by the highway-side.* So I saw in my dream, that he made haste, and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off of the Porter's lodge ; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions in the way.t Now, thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust and Timo- rous 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 * Hitherto Christian had been a solitary pilgrim ; but we must next con- sider him as admitted to the communion of the faithful, and joining with them in the most solemn public ordinances. This is represented under the emblem of the house Beautiful, and the pilgrim's entertainment in it. t A public profession of faith exposes a man to more opposition from rel- atives and neighbours than a private attention to religion ; and in our author's days, it was commonly the signal for persecution ; for which reason he places the lions in the road to the house Beautiful. Sense perceives the danger to which an open profession of religion may expose a man, and the imagination through the suggestions of Satan, exceedingly magnifies them ; faith alone can discern the secret restraints which the Lord lays on the minds of opposers ; and even believers are apt to be fearful and distrust- ful on such occasions. But the vigilant pastors of the flock obviate their fears, and by seasonable admonitions animate them to press forward, assured that nothing shall do them any real harm, and that all shall eventually prove beneficial to them. We meet with the following lines in the pld copies, which though misplaced in most of them may refer to the pilgrim's present situation. ' 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.' IHJE PAL. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 135 thought nothing but death was before him. But the Porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiv- ing that Christian made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, Is thy strength so small V Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is ; and for discovery of those that have none : keep in the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee. Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions ; but taking good heed to the directions of the Porter, he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood before the gate where the Porter was. Then said Christian to the Porter, Sir, what house is this ? and may I lodge here to-night ? The Porter an- swered. 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 w as, and whither he was going ?* t Mark iv. 40. * The porter's inquiries and Christian's answers exhibit our author's sen- timents on the caution with which members should be admitted into the communion of the faithful ; and it very properly shews, how ministers, by private conversation, may form a judgment of a man's profession, whether it be intelligent and the result of experience, or notional and formal. Chris- tian assigned his sinful sleeping as the cause of his arriving so late : \vhen believers are oppressed with prevailing doubts of their acceptance, they are backward in joining themselves to God's people; and this often tempts them to sinful delays, instead of exciting them to greater diligence. The subsequent discourse Of Discretion with the pilgrim represents such precau- tions and inquiries into the character and views of a professor, as may be made use of by any body of Christians, in order to prevent the intrusion of improper persons. The answers, given to the several questions proposed, constitute the proper external qualifications for admission to the Lord's ta- ble, when there is nothing in a man's principles and conduct inconsistent with them : the Lord alone can judge how far they accord to the inward dispositions and affections of the heart. By the little discourse of others 136 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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. 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 not finding it, I was forced with sorrow of heart to go back to the place where I slept my sleep ; where I found it, and now I am come. Port. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who will, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family, according to the rules of the house. So Watchful the Porter rang a bell, at the sound of which came out of the door of the house a grave and beautiful damsel, named Discretion, and asked why she was called ? The Porter answered. This man is on a journey from u Gen. ix. 27. belonging to the family with Christian previous to his admission, the author probably meant, that members should be admitted into Christian societies with the approbation, at least, of the most prudent, pious, and candid part of those that constitute them ; and according to the dictates of those graces or endowments here personified. By giving him ' something to eat before Bupper,' he probably referred to those preparatory sermons and devotions, by which the administration of the Lord's supper was then frequently and with great propriety introduced. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 137 the city of Destruction to Mount Zion ; but being weary and benighted, he asked me if he might lodge here to- night : so I told him I would call for thee, who, after discourse had with him, mayest do as seemeth thee good, even according to the law. of the house. Then she asked him whence he was, and whither he was going ? and he told her. She asked him also, how he got into the way ? and he told her. Then she asked him what he had seen and met with in the way ? and he told her. And at last she asked his name ? So he said, It is Christian ; and I have so much the more a desire to lodge here to-night, because, by what I perceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill for the relief and security of pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water stood in her eyes ; and after a little pause she said, I will call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him, had him into the family ; and many of them meeting him at the threshold of the house, said. Come in, thou blessed of the Lord ; this house was built by the Lord of the hill, on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in. Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house. So when he was come in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented together that, until supper was ready, some of them should have some particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement of time ; and they appointed Piety, Pru- dence, and Charity to discourse with him : and thus they began. Piety. Come, good Christian,* since we have been * The further conversation of Piety and her companions with Christian was subsequent to his admission, and represents the advantage of the com- s 138 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. PIETY DISCOURSES WITE HIM. SO loving to you to receive you into our house this night, let us, if perhaps we may better ourselves thereby, talk with you of all things that have happened to you in your pilgrimage. Chr. With a very good will ; and I am glad that you are so well disposed. Piety. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a pilgrim's life ? Chr. I was driven out of my native country by a HOW CHRISTIAN drcadful sound that was in mine ears; OP HIS OWN couN- ^Q ^r[^^ ^^^^ 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 HOW HE GOT INTO to go J but by chauce there came a man, THE WAY TO ZION. , T j 1 1 • 1 even to me, as 1 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 remem- A REHEARSAL OP braucc of wWch will stick by me as lonff WHATHESAWIN _ THE WAY. ^g J jjyg^ cspecially three things; to wit, how Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains his work of munion of the saints, and the best method of conducting it. To lead be- lievers to a serious review of the way in which they have been led hitherto is every way profitable, as it tends to increase humiliation, gratitude, faith, and hope ; and must, therefore, proportionably conduce to the glory of God, pnd the edification of their brethren. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 139 grace in the heart ; how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of God's mercy ; and also the dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of judgment was come. Piety. Why, did you hear him tell his dream ? Chr. Yes, and a dreadful one it was, I thought ; it made my heart ache as he was telling of it, but yet I am glad I heard it. Piety. Was this all you saw at the house of the Interpreter ? Chr. No ; he took me, and had me where he showed me a stately palace, and how the people were clad in gold that were in it ; and how there came a venturous man, and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the door, to keep him out ; and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal glory. Methought those things did ravish my heart. I would have stayed at that good man's house a twelvemonth, but that I knew I had further to go. Piety. And what saw you else in the way? Chr. Saw ? Why, I went but a little further, and I saw one, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon a tree ; and the very sight of him made my burden fall off my back ; for I groaned under a very heavy bur- den, but then it fell down from off me. It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing be- fore : yea, and while I stood looking up, (for then I could not forbear looking,) three shining ones came to me. One of them testified that my sins were forgiven me; another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this broidered coat which you see ; and the third set the mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me 140 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 Formality and Hypocrisy come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to Zion ; but they were quickly lost, even as I myself did tell them, but they would not believe. But, above all, I found it hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come by the lions' mouths ; and truly, if it had not been for the good man the Porter, that stands at the gate, I do not know but that, after all, I might have gone back again : but I thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me. Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few ques- tions, and desired his answer to them.* PRUDENCE Dis- Pru. Do vou Rot thiuk sometimes of CODRSES WITH "^ ''""• the country from whence you came ? Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detestation ; TiAN's truly, if I had been mindful of that coun- OF HIS •' try from whence I came out, I might have CHRIST THOUGHTS NATIVE COUNTRY. * Men may learn by human teaching to profess any doctrine, and relate any experience ; nay, general convictions, transient affections, and distinct notions may impose upon the man himself, and he may mistake them for true conversion. The best method of avoiding this dangerous rock consists in daily self examination, and constant prayer to be preserved from it ; and, as far as we are concerned, to form a judgment of others, in order to per- form our several duties towards them, prudence is especially required, and will suggest such questions as follow in this place. The true Christian's inmost feelings will best explain the answers, which no exposition can elu- cidate to those who are unacquainted with the conflict to which they refer. The golden hours (fleeting and precious) are earnests of the everlasting holy felicity of heaven. CHRISTIANS CHOICE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 141 had opportunity to have returned ; but now I desire a better country, that is an heavenly/ Pru. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the things that then you were conversant withal ? Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will ; especially my inward and carnal cogitations, with christian dis- ° TASTED WITH CAR- which all my countrymen, as well as my- "'''' cogitations. self, were delighted ; but now all those things are my grief; and might I but chose mine own things, I would chose never to think of those things more ; but when I would be a doing of that which is best, that which is worst is with me."' Pru. Do you not find sometimes as if those things were vanquished, which at other times are your per- plexity ? Chr. Yes, but that is but seldom ; but they are to me golden hours in which such things happen to me. Pru. Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at times as if they were vanquished ? Chr. Yes; when I think what I saw at the cross, that will do it ; and when I look upon my broidered coat, that will do it ; and when I look into the roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it ; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it. Pru. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion ? Chr. Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hansf deadon the cross: and there I hope why christian •3 ^ WOULD BE AT MT to be rid of all those things that to this ^'°''- day are in me an annoyance to me : there they say V Heb. xi. 15, 16. w Rom. vii. 21. CHRISTIAN'S GOLDEN HOURS. HOW CHRISTIAN GETS POWER A- GAINST HIS COR- RDPTIONS. 142 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. there is no death,^ and there I shall dwell with such company as I like best. For, to tell you the truth, 1 love him, because I was by him eased of my burden; and I am weary of my inward sickness. I would fain be where I shall die no more, and with the company that shall continually cry. Holy, holy, holy. CHARITY Dis- Thcu Said Charity to Christian, Have COnRSES WITH *' ""* you a family? are you a married man?* Chr. I have a wife and four small children ? Cha. And why did not you bring them along with you? Then Christian wept, and said. Oh ! how willingly CHRISTIAN'S LOVE wouM I havc douc it, but they were all TO HIS WIFE AND •' CHILDREN. Qf them utterly averse to my going on pilgrimage. Cha. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to show them the danger of staying behind. Chr. So I did ; and told them also what God had shown to me of the destruction of our city; but I seemed to them as one that mocked, and they believed me not.^ Cha. And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to them ? Chr. Yes, and that with much affection; for you X Isa. XXV. 8. Rev. xxi. 4. y Gen. xix. 14. * When a man knows the value of his own soul, he will become greatly solicitous for the souls of others. It is, therefore, a very suspicious circum- stance, when a professor shews no earnestness in persuading those he loves best to seek salvation also; and it is absurd to excuse this negligence by arguments taken from God's secret purposes, when these have no influence on the conduct of the same persons in their temporal concerns. Charity's discourse with Christian shews what our author thought to be the duties of believers in this most important concern, and what he understood to be the real reasons why carnal men reject the Gospel. christian's rt.KR OF PERISHING MIGHT BE REAO IN Hia VERT COUNTENANCE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 143 raust think that my wife and poor children were very dear to me. Cha. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction ? for I suppose that destruction was visible enough to you. Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might alsb see my fears in my countenance, in my tears, and also in my trembling un- der the apprehension of the judgment that did hang over our heads ; but all was not suffi- cient to prevail with them to come with me. Cha. 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. Cha. 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 over- throw what, by argument or persuasion, he doth labour to fasten upon others for their good. Yet, this I can say, I was very wary of giving them occasion, by any unseemly action, to make them averse to going on pil grimage. Yea, for this very thing, they would tell me I was too precise, and that I denied my- christians good self of thino's, for their sakes, in which before me ~' WIFEANDCHIL they saw no evil. Nay, I think I may "'"'''■ say, that if what they saw in me did hinder them, it THE CAUSE WHY HIS WIFE AND CHILDREN DID NOT GO WITH BIM. WHAT CHRISTIA HAD TO HI3 SUP PER. THEIR TALK AT SUPPER TIME. 144 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. was my great tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbour, Cha. Indeed, Cain hated his brother, because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous;'' CHRISTIAN CLEAR aud if thy wife and chilaren nave been OFTHEIRBLOOD, IF THEY PERISH, offcnded with thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be implacable to good: and thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood.* 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 N was furnished with fat things, and with w ine 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. z 1 John iii. 12. a Ezek. iii. 19. b Heb. ii. 14. * The administration of the Lord's supper is here emblematically de- scribed. In it the person, humiliation, sufferings, and death of Christ, with the motive and event of them, are kept in perpetual remembrance. By se- riously contemplating these interesting subjects, with the emblems of his body wounded, and his blood shed, before our eyes;. and by professing our cordial acceptance of his purchased salvation, and surrender of ourselves to his service, we find every holy affection revived and invigorated, and our souls melted into deep repentance, inspired with calm confidence, animated to thankful, zealous, self-denying obedience, and softened into tender affec- tion for our fellow Christians, with compassionate forgiving love of our most inveterate enemies. The believer will readily apply the allegorical repre- sentation of ' the Lord of the hill' (Isa. xxv. 6, 7) to the love of Christ for lost sinners, which no words can adequately describe, for it ' passeth know- ledge.' 1ST MAKES ES OF BEO- OARS, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 145 For, as they said, and as I believed, said Christian, he did it with the loss of much blood. But that which put the glory of grace into all he did, was, that he did it out of pure love to his country. And, besides, there were some of them of the household that said, they had been and spoke with him since he did die on the cross ; and they have attested that they had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east to the west. They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed, and that was, he had stripped himself of his glory, that he might do this for the poor ; and that they heard him say and affirm, that he would not dwell in the mountain of Zion alone. They said, moreover, that he had made many pilgrims princes, chr though by nature they were beggars born, and their original had been the dunghill."" 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 pil- grim they laid in a large upper chamber whose window opened towards the sun- rising : the name of the chamber was Peace,* where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang — Where am I nowl 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! c 1 Sam. ii. 8. Psalm cxiii. 7. * That peace of conscience and serenity of mind, which follow an hum- ble upright profession of faith in Christ, and communion with him and his people, is not* the effect of a mere outward observance; but of that inward disposition of the heart which is thus cultivated, and of the Lord's blessing »n his own appointments. This is here represented by the chamber Peace : T CHRISTIANS BED- CHAMBER. CHRISTIAN HAD INTO THE STHDY, ANDWHATHESAW THERE. 146 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, 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 remem- ber my dream, they showed him the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that he was the Son of the Ancient of days, and came by an eternal generation. Here also were 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 hab- itations, that could neither by length of days, nor de- cays of nature, be dissolved. Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants had done ; as how they had sub- dued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained prom- ises, 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.*^ Then they read again in another part of the records of the house, where it was shown how willing their Lord was to receive into his favour any, even any, though they in time past had offered great aflfronts to his person and proceedings. Here also were several d Heb. xi. 33, 34. it raises the soul above the care and bustle of this vain world, and springs from the healing beams of the Sun of righteousness. * Christian communion, properly conducted, tends to enlarge the be- liever's acquaintance with the Holy Scriptures: and this conduces to the increase of faith, hope, love, patience, and fortitude ; to animate the soul in emulating the illustrious examples there exhibited, and to furnish instruc- \ion for every good work. CHRISTIAN HAD IN- TO THE ARMOURY. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 147 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 com- fort 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 christian is MADE TO SEE AN- things. They showed him Moses's rod ; *='^'"' things. 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 hun- dred men. They showed him also the jaw-bone with which Samson did such mighty feats: they showed * The provision, which is made in Christ and his fulness, for maintaining and increasing, in the healrts of his people, those holy dispositions and aifec- tions, by the vigorous exercise of which victory is obtained over all their enemies, is here represented by the armoury (Eph. vi. 10 — 18 ; 1 Thess. v. 6.) This suffices for all who seek to be supplied from it, how many soever they be. We ought, therefore, ' to take to ourselves the whole armour of God,' and ' put it on,' by diligently using all the means of grace ; and we may assist others, by our exhortations, counsels, example, and prayers, in doing the same. The following allusions to the Scripture history, which have a peculiar propriety in an allegory, intimate, that the means of grace are made effectual by the power of God, which we should depend on, in implicit obedience to his appointments. 148 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. him moreover the shng and stone with which Dayid slew Gohah of Gath ; and the sword also with which the 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 nmch delighted. This done, they went to their rest again. Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forwards, but they desired him to stay till the next day also ; And then, said they, we will, if the day CHRISTIAN SHOW- foc clcar, sliow you the Delectable Moun- EDTHEDELECTA- BLE MOUNTAINS, talus ^ * wliicli, tlicy 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 staid. When the morning was up, they had him to the top of the house, and bid him look south : so he did ; and, behold, at a great distance,^ he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, beautified with woods, vine- yards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and fountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked the name of the country. They said, it was Imma- nuel's Land ; And it is as common, said they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there, from thence thou mayest see to the gate of the celestial city, as the shepherds that live there will make appear. e Isaiah xxxiii. 16, 17. * The Delectable Mountains, as seen at a distance, represent those dis- tinct views of the privileges and consolations attainable in this life, with which believers are sometimes favoured, when attending on divine ordi- nances, or diligently making a subsequent improvement of them. The hopes thus inspired prepare them for meeting and pressing forward through dangers and hardships; this is the pre-eminent advantage of Christian com- munion, and can only be enjoyed at some special seasons, when the Sun of righteousness shines upon the soul. CHRISTIAN SETS FORWARD. CHRISTIAN SENT AWAY ARMED. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 149 . Now he bethought himself of setting forward,* and they were wilhng he should. But first, said they, let us go again into the armoury. So they did; and when he came there, they harnessed him from head to foot, with what was of proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in the way. He being therefore thus accoutred, walked out with his friends to the gate, and there he asked the Porter, if he saw any pilgrim pass by? Then the Porter answered. Yes. Pray, did you know him ? said he. PoR. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful. Oh, said Christian, I know him ; he is my towns- man, my near neighbour, he comes from the place where I was born. How far do you think he may be before ? PoR. He is got by this time below the hill. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add to all thy blessings much how christian ' ^ O j^fiD THE PORTER. increase, for the kindness that thou hast f^^^!" ^'^ ''^^''' 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.f So they went on together, reite- * The ordinances of public or social worship are only Ihe means of being religious, not the essence of religion itself. Having renewed our strength by waiting on the Lord, we must go forward, by attending with increasing diligence to the duties of our several stations, and preparing to resist temptations, which often assault us after special seasons of divine consola- tion. Ministers, therefore, and experienced believers should warn young converts to expect trials and conflicts, and recommend to them such com- panions as may be a comfort and help in their pilgrimage. t The humiliation requisite for receiving Christ, obtaining peace, and making a good confession of the faith, is general and indistinct, compared THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION. 150 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. rating their former discourses, till they came to go down the hill. Then said Christian, Ah it was difficult commg up, so, so far as I can see, it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is ; for it is a hard matter for a man to go down into the Valley of Humiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way ; therefore, said they, we are come out to accompany thee down the hill. So he began to go down, but very warily, yet he caught a slip or two. Then I saw in my dream, that these good compa- nions, when Christian was got down to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins ; and then he went on his way. Whilst Christian is among his godly friends, Their golden mouths make him sufficient mends For all his griefs ; and when they let him go, He's clad with northern steel from top to toe. But now in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Chris- tian was hard put to it ; for he had gone but a little way, before he espied a foul fiend coming over the field with that which subsequent trials and conflicts will produce ; and the Lord commonly dispenses comfort and humiliating experiences alternately, that the believer may neither be elated nor depressed above measure (2 Cor. xii. 1 — 5) ; the valley of Humiliation, therefore, is very judiciously placed be- yond the house Beautiful. Some explain it to signify a Christian's outward circumstances, when reduced to poverty, or subjected to great temporal loss by professing the Gospel ; and perhaps the author had this idea in his mind ; yet it could only be viewed as the means of producing inward humiliation. In going down into the valley, the believer will greatly need the assistance of discretion, piety, charity, and prudence, and the recollection of the in- structions and counsels of such Christians as are eminent for these endow- ments: for humiliating dispensations and experiences excite the latent evils of the heart, and often cause men to speak and act unadvisedly ; so that, notwithstanding every precaution, the review will commonly discover many things, which demand the remorse and sorrow of deep repentance. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 151 to meet him : his name is Apollyon.* Then did Chris- tian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or to stand his gronnd. But he considered again, that he had no armour for his christian has NO ARMOUR FOR back, and therefore thought that to turn "'' "^'^''• the back to him might give him greater advantage, with ease to pierce him with his darts, therefore he resolved to venture and stand his ground : for, thought * Under discouraging circumstances tlie believer will often be tempted to murmur, despond or seek relief from the world. Finding tliat his too san guine expectations are not answered, that he grows worse rather than better in his own opinion of himself, that his comforts are transitory, and that much reproach, contempt, and loss, are incurred by his profession of religion, discontent will often rise up in his heart, and weakness of faith will expose him to sharp conflicts. Mr. Bunyan, having experienced, in an un- common degree, the most dreadful temptations, was probably led by that circumstance to speak on this subject in language not very intelligible to those who have been exempted from such painful exercises of mind. The nature of his work required, that they should be described under outward emblems ; but the inward suggestions of evil spirits are especially intended. These seem to have peculiar access to the imagination, and are able to paint before that illusive faculty the most alluring or terrifying representations, as if they were realities. Apollyon signifies the destroyer (Rev. ix. 11;) and in carrying on the work of destruction, fallen angels endeavour by various devices to deter men from prayer, and to render them afraid of those things, without which the life of faith cannot be maintained ; in order that, after convictions, they may be led to give up religion, as the only method of re- covering composure of mind. Many, ' having no root in themselves,' thus gradually fall away ; and others are greatly retarded : but the well instructed believer sees no safety, except in facing his enemy. If there appears to be danger, in persevering, ruin is inevitable if he desist (for Christian ' had no armour for his back ;') even fear, therefore, will in that case induce a man to stand his ground, and the more resolutely he resists temptation, the sooner will he regain his tranquillity : for when the suggestions of Satan excite us to pray more fervently, and to be more diligent in every service, that enemy will ' flee from us.' Perhaps some may remember a time when they were so harassed as almost to despair of relief; who have since been so entirely delivered, that, were it not for the recollection of their own past experience, they would be ready to ascribe all such things to disease or enthusiasm, not- withstanding all that the Scripture contains on the subject. 152 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. he, had I no more in my eye than the saving ot my hfe, 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 * The description of Apollyon implies, that the combat afterwards re- corded particularly represented the terrors by which evil spirits attempt to drive professors out of their path. Other temptations, though perhaps more dangerous, are not so distressing : ' Satan can transform himself into an an- gel of light ;' and indeed he is a very Proteus, who can assume any form, as best suits his purpose. As all have been overcome by the temptations of the devil, and ' of whom a man is overcome, of the same is he brought into bondage ;' so by usurpation, he is become the god and prince of this world, and we have all been his slaves. But believers, having been redeemed by the blood of Christ, ' are made free from sin and become the servants of God :' and the abiding conviction, that all the subjects of sin and Satan must perish, concurs with their experience of its hard bondage, in fortifying them against every temptation to return to it. Sensible of their obligations to God as their Creator and Governor, they have deeply repented of their past rebellions ; and having obtained mercy, feel themselves bound by gratitude and the most solemn engagements to cleave to him and his service. Their difficulties and discouragements cannot induce them to believe that they ' have changed for the worse ;' nor will they be influenced by the numbers who apostatize, from love to the world and dread of the cross ; for they are ' rooted and grounded in love,' and not merely moved by fears and hopes. They are sure that the Lord is able to deliver them from their enemies ; and should the wicked be permitted to prosper in their malicious devices, they know enough of his plan, to rely on his wisdom, truth, and love in the midst of sufferings. Thus they have answers ready for every suggestion ; even such answers as Christian had been furnished with at the house of the Interpreter. If such temptations prove ineffectual, Satan will perhaps assault the believer, by representing to his mind, with every possible aggravation, the several instances of his misconduct, since he pro- fessed the Gospel, in order to heighten his apprehensions of being found at last a hypocrite : when the soul is discouraged and gloomy, he will be as assiduous in representing every false step to be a horrid crime inconsistent with a state of grace, as he is at other times in persuading men, that the most flagrant violations of the Divine law are mere trifles. In repelling such suggestions, the well-instructed believer will neither deny the chargci THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 153 beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question him. Apol. Whence came you ; and whither msconRSE be •^ TWIXT CHRISTIAN are you bound ? ^"^ ^po'-'-^«>'- 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 that thou art one of my subjects ; for all that country is mine, and I am the prince and god of it. How is it then that thou hast run away from thy king ? Were it not that I hope thou mayest do me more service, I would strike thee now at one blow to the ground. Chr. I was indeed born in your dominions, but your service was hard, and your wages such as a man could not live on ; for the wages of sin is death f therefore when 1 w as 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, apollyon-s fla *•■ 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 pro- verb, " changed a bad for a worse :" but APOLLyon under. ~ VALUESCHRIS T'S it is ordinary for those that have professed SERVICES. f Rom. vi. 23. nor extenuate his guilt ; but he will flee for refuge to the free grace of the Gospel, and take comfort from the consciousness that he now hates, and groans under the remains of those evils, which once he wholly lived in with- out remorse ; thence inferring, that ' his sins, though many, are forgiven.' 154 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. themselves his servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too, and al'i shall be well. Chr. I have given him my faith, and sworn my alle- giance to him ; how then can 1 go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor ? Apol. Thou didst the same by me, and yet I am willing to pass by all, if now thou wilt yet turn again, and go back. Chr. What I promised thee was in my nonage ; and besides, I count that the Prince under whose banner ROW 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 govern- ment, 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, APOLLYON PLEADS what tliou art like to meet with in the TfANs,°'To "msi way that thou goest. Thou knowest that, tVIVfko^'^ter- for the most part, his servants come to an SISTING IN HIS \V A Y ill end, because they are transgressors against me and my ways. How many of them have been put to shameful deaths ! And besides, thou count- est his service better than mine ; whereas, he never yet came from the place where he is, to deliver any that served him out of their hands : but as for me, how many times, as all the world very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by them : and so will I deliver thee. Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on CHRISTIANS IN- FIRMITIES A- GAINST HIM. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 155 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, w hen their Prince comes in his, and the glory of the angels. Apol. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy ser- vice 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 ^ APOLLYON PLEADS Despond. Thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burden, whereas thou shouldest have staid till thy Prince had taken it ofl'. Thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice things. Thou wast also almost persuaded to go back at the sight of the lions : and when thou talkest of thy jour- ney, and of what thou hast heard and seen, thou art in- w^ardly desirous of vainglory in all that thou sayest or doest. Chr. All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out ; but the Prince whom I serve and 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, being sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my Prince. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage,* * Thus far Christian's contest with Apollyon is intelligible and instructive to every experienced believer: what follows is more difficult. But if we duly reflect upon the Lord's permission to Satan, in respect of Job, with the 156 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. APOLLYONiNRAGE savinff, I aiB an enemy to this Prince: I FALLS 1 believe that hi mouth oi the burnmir pit, one oi the spake elasphe wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly sug- gested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it than any thing that he met with before, even to think that he should now blas- pheme 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 those blasphemies came. When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him,* saying, " Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no ill, for thou art with me."P Then was he glad, and that for these reasons : First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in this valley as well as himself. Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark and dismal state : and why not, thought he, with me ; though, by reason of the impe- diment that attends this place, I cannot perceive it?"^ p Psalm xxiii. 4. q Job ix. 11. * Nothing more effectually supports the tempted than to learn, that others, whom they consider as believers, have been or are in similar cir- cumstances : for the idea, that such a state of mind as they experience is inconsistent with true faith, gives the enemy his principal advantage against them. Indeed this often proves the means of their deliverance; for in due season that light, affection, and consolation, for which they have long mourned, thirsted, prayed, and waited, will be vouchsafed them ; and the review of the dangers they have escaped, now more clearly discerned than before, will enlarge their hearts with admiring gratitude to their great and gracious deliverer. CBR AT BREAK OF DAV. 168 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 isTiAN GLAD brolcc I thcu said Christian, He hath "turned the shadow of death into the morning." ' 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 ."^ Now was Christian much affected with this deliver- ance from all the dangers of his solitary way ; which dangers, though he feared them much before, yet he saw them more clearly now, because the light of the day made them conspicuous to him. And about this time the sun was rising, and this was another mercy to Christian j for you must note, that, though the first part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dan- THE SECOND PART gcrous, vct tlils sccoud part,* which he was yet to go, was, if possible, far more OP THIS VALLEY VERY DANGEROOS r Amos v. 8. s Job xii. 22. * Various interpretations are given of this second part of the valley, .vhich only shew, that the author's precise idea in it lies more remote from g-eneral apprehension than in other passages: for they all coincide with THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 169 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 1 said, just now the sun was rising. Then said he, " His candle shineth on my head, and by his light I go through darkness."' In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley. Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of the valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way for- merly; and while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied a little before me a cave, where two giants. Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old times, by whose power and tyranny the men, whose bones, blood, ashes, &c. lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this place Christian went without much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered; but I have learned 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 t Job xxix. 3. some of the difficulties or dangers that are clearly described under other emblems. I would not indeed be too confident, but, I apprehend, in general we are taught by it, that believers are not most in danger when under the deepest distress ; that the snares and devices of the enemy are so many and various, through the several stages of our pilgrimage, as to baffle all des- cription or enumeration ; and that all the emblems of the valley of humilia- tion, and of the shadow of death, could not fully represent the thousandth part of them. Were it not, therefore, that the Lord undertakes to guide his people, by the light of his word and Spirit, they never could possibly escape them all. w 170 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, that he can now do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because he cannot come at them. So I saw that Christian went on his way ; yet, at the sight of the old man that sat at the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think, especially be- cause he spoke to him, though he could not go after him, saying, You Mdll never mend till more of you be burnt. But he held his peace, and set a good face on it ; and so went by, and catched no hurt. Then sang Christian — O world of wonders ! (I can say no less,) That I should be preserved in that distress That I have met with here ! O blessed be That hand that from it hath delivered me ! Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin, Did compass me while I this vale was in : Yea, snares, and pits, and traps, and nets did lie My path about, that worthless silly I Might have been catched, 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 pil- grims might see before them:* up there, therefore, * This may represent those moments of encouragement, in which tempted believers rise superior to their difficulties ; and are animated to desire the company of their brethren, whom dejection under humiliating experiences disposes them to shun. The conduct of Christian intimates, that believers are sometimes ready to hinder one another, by making their own attainments and progress a standard for their brethren ; but the lively exercise of faith renders men intent on pressing forward, and more apt to fear the society of such as would influence them to loiter, than to stop for them. This tends to excite an useful emulation ; but while it promotes diligence, it often gives occasion to those risings of vain glory and self- preference, which are the forerunners of some humiliating fall : thus be- lievers often are left to feel their need of help from the very persons whom CHRISTIAN OVER- TAKES FAITHFUL. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 171 Christian went ; and looking forward, he saw Faithful before him upon his journey. Then said Christian aloud, Ho, ho ! so-ho ! stay, and I will be your com- panion. 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 christian's fall ~ makes faithful all things that had happened to them in t^aLY'-^ooETnll'. their pilgrimage ; and thus Christian began. Chr. My honoured and well-beloved brother Faithful,* they have foolishly undervalued. Such experiences, however, give occa- sion to those mutual good offices, which unite them more closely in the nearest ties of tender affection. * This episode, so to spealc, with others of the same kind, gives our au- thor a happy advantage of varying the characters and experiences of Christians, as found in real life; and of thus avoiding the common fault of making one man a standard for others, in the circumstances of his reli- gious progress. It often happens, that they who have been acquainted be- fore their conversion, and hear little of each other for some time after, find at length that they were led to attend to religion about the same period, without having opportunity or courage to confer together about it. The decided separation of a sinner from his old companions, and his avowed dread of the wrath to come, frequently excites alarms and serious thoughts in the minds of others, which they are not able wholly to shake off. In many indeed this is a mere floating, transient notion, insufficient to over- come the propensities of the carnal mind ; but when it arises from a real belief of God's testimony it will at length produce a happy change. 172 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. I am glad that I have overtaken you, and that God has so tempered our spirits, that we can walk as com- panions 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 J wherefore I was forced to come thus much of the way alone. Chr. How long did you stay in the city of Destruc- tion, before you set out after me on your pilgrimage ? Faith. Till I could stay no longer ; for there was a bout'''t''he^''coun- great talk presently after you were gone TRY FROM WHENCE <,1 , •, II' 1 ^ ,• THEY CAME. out, that our city would m a short trnie, 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 every body's mouth. Chr. What ! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger ? Faith. Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not think they did firmly believe it ; for, in the heat of the discourse, I heard some of them deridingly speak of you and of your desperate journey, (for so they called this your pilgrimage.) But I did believe, and do still, that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from above ; and therefore I have made my escape. Chr. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable ? Faith. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came to the Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he fell in ; but he would not be known to have so lone ; but I am sure he was soundly bedabbled with fhat kind of dirt. Chr. And what said the neighbours to him ? Faith. He hath, since his going back, been had THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 173 greatly in derision, and that among all "o^v pltabib '-' *' '^ WAS ACCOUNTED sorts of people: some do mock and de- Zme!^" "^ °°'' spise 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." 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 over- throw of the city. For it has happened to him ac- cording to the true proverb, " The dog is the dog and sow. turned to his vomit again, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.'"' Faith. These are my fears of him too : but who can hinder that which will be ? Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk of things that more immediately concern u Jer. xxii. 18, 19. v 2 Pet. ii. 22. * Apostates are often ashamed to own they have had convictions : their careless companions assume a kind of superiority over them ; they do not think them hearty in the cause of ungodliness, and they despise their cow- ardice and versatility : on the other hand such persons feel that they want an apology, and have recourse to contemptible lies and slanders, with abject servility ; while they shun religious people, as afraid of their arguments, warnings, and expostulations. 174 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 FAITHFUL AS- I mct with ouc whose name was Wanton, SAPLTEDByWAN- ''°''- that 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 liked to have cost him his life.''' But what did she do to you ? Faith. You cannot think, but that you know some- thing, 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 that I mean all carnal and fleshly content. Chr. Thank God you have escaped her : " the ab- horred of the Lord shall fall into her pit.'"" Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her, or no. Chr. Why, I trow you did not consent to her desires. w Gen. xxxix. 11—13. x Prov. xxii. 14. * Some men are preserved from desponding fears, and the suggestions of "" worldly wisdom, by receiving more distinct views of the general truths of the Gospel ; and thus they proceed with less hesitation and interruption in applying to Christ for salvation : yet, perhaps, their temperature, turn of mind, habits of life, and peculiar situation, render them more accessible to temptations of another kind ; and they may be more in danger from the fascinations of fleshly lusts. Thus in diiferent ways the Lord makes his people sensible of their depravity, weakness, and exposed situation ; while he so moderates the temptation, or interposes for their deliverance, that they are preserved, and taught to ascribe all the glory to his name. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 175 Faith. No, not to defile myself, for I remembered an old writing that I had seen, which said, " her steps take hold of hell."^ So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks: — then she railed on me, and I went my way. Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you came ? Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, he was assadlt- '^ •' ^ ED BY ADAM THE who asked me what I was, and whither ""'"• bound ? I told him that I was a pilgrim going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me, for the wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked his name, and where he dwelt. He said, his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit.'' I asked him then what was his work, and what the wages that he would give. He told me, that his work was many delights ; and his wages, that I should be his heir at last. I further asked him, what house he kept, and what other servants he had. So he told me, that his house was maintained with all the dainties of the world, and that his servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked how many chil- dren he had. He said, that he had but three daugh- ters, " the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life ;"* and that I should marry them if I would. Then I asked, how long time he would have me live with him. And he told me, as long as he lived himself. Chr. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last ? y Prov. V. 5. Job zxxi. 1. z Eph. iv. 22. a 1 John ii. 16. 176 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Faith. Why, at first I found myself somewhat 11 chnable to go with the man, for I thought he spoke 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 w^ould 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 I"" — 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. b Rom. vii. 24. * Those Christians, who by strong faith or assured hope, endure hardships more cheerfully than their brethren, are often exposed to greater danger from the allurements of outward objects, exciting the remaining propensi- ties of corrupt nature. Deep humiliation and great anxiety about the event, in many instances, tend to repress the lusts of the heart, by sup- plying a continual succession of other thoughts and cares ; while constant encouragement, readily attained, too often leaves a man to experience them more forcibly. Nay, the same persons, who under pressing solicitude seem to be entirely delivered from some peculiar corruptions, find them revive and become very troublesome, when they have obtained more confidence about their salvation. The old Adam, the corrupt nature, proves a con- stant snare to many believers, by its hankering after the pleasures, riches, honours, and pride of the world ; nor can the victory be secured without great difficulty and trouble, and strong faith and fervent prayer. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 177 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 knocked me down again. He had doubt- less made an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him forbear. Chr. Who was that that bid him forbear ? Faith. I did not know him at first ; but as he went by, I perceived the holes in his hands and in his side ; then I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill. Chr. That man that overtook you was Moses.* He spareth none, neither THE TEMPER OF MOSES. * The doctrine of Moses did not essentially differ from that of Christ : but the giving of the law, that ministration of condemnation to all sinners, formed so prominent a part of his dispensation, in which the Gospel was exhibited under types and shadows, that ' the law' is said to have been ' given by Moses,' while ' grace and truth came by Jesus Christ ;' especially, as the shadows were of no further use when the substance was come. Even such hankerings after worldly objects, as are effectually opposed and repressed, being contrary to the spirituality of the precept, ' Thou shalt not covet,' often greatly discourage the new convert; who does not duly recol- lect, that the Gospel brings relief to those who feel themselves justly con- demned by the law. Yet these terrors produce deeper humiliation, and greater simplicity of dependence on the mercy of God in Christ Jesus, as ' the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believeth.' Many X 178 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. knoweth he how to show mercy to those that trans- gress 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 staid there. Chr. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the hill, on the side of which Moses met you? Faith. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it : — but, for the lions, I think they were asleep ; for it was about noon : — and, because I had so much of the day before me, I passed by the Porter, and came down the hill* Chr. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by ; but I wish 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 for a time escape discouragement, because they are but superficially ac- quainted with their own hearts; yet it is proper they should be further in- structed by such experiences as are here described, in order to their greater stability, tenderness of conscience, and compassion for their brethren, in the subsequent part of their pilgrimage, * This circumstance seems to imply, that, in our author's judgment, even eminent believers sometimes decline entering into communion with their brethren according to his views of it; and that very lively affections and strong consolations may probably have rendered them less attentive to these externals. Indeed he deemed this a disadvantage and a mistake (which is perhaps also intimated by Faithful's not calling at the house of the Inter- preter,) but not a sufficient reason why other Christians should not cordially unite with them. This is a beautiful example of that candour, in respect of those things about which pious persons differ, that consists with decided firmness in the great essentials of faith and holiness. f While some believers are most tried with inward fears and conflicts, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 179 » A I T n F U L A g- SADLTED BY DIS- CONTENT. FAITHFUL'S AN- SWER TO DISCON- 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 dis- oblige all my friends, as Pride, Arrogancy, Self-conceit, Worldly-glory, with others, who he knew, as he said, would be very much offended if I made such a fool of myself, as to wade through this valley. Chr. Well, and how did you answer him ? Faith. I told him, that although all these that he named might claim a kindred of me, and that rightly, (for indeed they were my '^'^'"^• relations according to the flesh ;) yet since I became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, and I also have re- jected 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 hu- mility," 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. others are more tempted to repine at the outward degradation, reproach, ridicule, and loss to which religion exposes them. A man, perhaps, at first, may flatter himself with the hope of avoiding the peculiarities and eccen- tricities, which have brought enmity or contempt on some professors of the Gospel ; and of ensuring respect and affection, by caution, uprightness, and benevolence ; but further experience and knowledge constrain him to adopt and avow sentiments, and associate with persons, that the world despises ; and, seeing himself invincibly impelled by his conscience, to a line of con- duct which ensures the reproach of enthusiasm and folly, the loss of friends, and manifold mortifications, he is powerfully assaulted by discontent ; and tempted to repine, that the way to heaven lies through such humiliation and worldly disappointments ; till the considerations, adduced in Faithful's answer, enable him at length to overcome this assailant, and to ' seek the honour that cometh from God only.' HE IS ASSAULTED EV SHAME. 180 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. Met you with nothing else in that valley ? Faith. Yes, I met with Shame ;* but of all the men that I met with on my pilgrimage, he, I think, bears the wrong name. The other would be said nay, after a little argumentation and somewhat else : but this bold-faced Shame would never have done. * Persons of a peculiar turn of mind, when enabled to overcome tempta- tions to discontent about worldly degradation, are exceedingly prone to be influenced by a false shame, and to profess religion in a timid and cautious manner; to be afraid of speaking all their mind in some places and compa- nies, even when the most favourable opportunity occurs ; to shun in part the society of those whom they most love and esteem, lest they should be involved in the contempt which is cast on them ; to be reserved and incon- stant in attending on the ordinances of God, entering a protest against vice and irreligion, bearing testimony to the truth, and in attempting to promote the Gospel: being apprehensive lest these things should deduct from their reputation for good sense, prudence, learning, or liberality of sentiment. Men who are least exposed to those conflicts in which Christian was en- gaged, are often most baffled by this enemy ; nor can others make proper allowances for them in this case, any more than they can for such as expe- rience those dark temptations, of which they have no conception. Consti- tution, habits, connexions, extensive acquaintance with mankind, and an excess of sensibility, united to that pride which is common to man, con- tinually suggest objections to every thing that the world despises, which they can hardly answer to themselves, and excite such alarms as they can- not get over ; while a delicate sense of propriety, and the specious name of prudence, supply them with a kind of half-excuse for their timidity. The excessive trouble which this criminal and unreasonable shame occa- sions some persons, contrary to their judgment, convictions, arguments, en- deavours, and prayers, gave our author the idea, that 'this enemy bears a wrono- name.' Many a suggestion made to the mind, in this respect, from time to time, is so natural, and has so strong a party within (especially in those who are more desirous of honour than of wealth or pleasure,) that men can scarcely help feeling for the moment as if there were truth in it, though they know, upon reflection, that it is most irrational. Nay, these feelings insensibly warp men's conduct; though they are continually self- condemned on the retrospect. There are some who hardly ever get the better of this false shame ; and it often brings their sincerity into doubt, both with themselves and others: but flourishing Christians at length in good measure rise superior to it, by such considerations as are here adduced, and by earnest persevering prayer. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 181 Chr. Why, what did he say to you ? Faith. What ! why he objected against religion it- self: 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 him- self 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 opin- ion ; nor any of them neither before they were per- suaded to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to venture the loss of all for nobody knows what.*^ He moreover objected the base and low estate and condi- tion of those that were chiefly the pilgrims of the times in which they lived ; also their ignorance, and want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also about a great many more things than here I relate ; as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to come siorhino; and o-roaninor 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 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 C John vii. 48. 1 Cor. i. 26. iii. 18. Phil. iii. 7—9. 182 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. beat me quite ofl'. But at last I began to consider, that that which is highly esteemed among men is had in abomination with God.*^ And I thought again, this Shame tells me what men are, but it tells me nothing what God, or the word of God, is. And I thought, moreover, that at the day of doom we shall not be doomed to death or hfe 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 ; see- ing 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.^ But indeed this Shame was a bold villain ; I could scarcely shake him out of my company ; yea, he would be haunting of me, and continually whispering me in the ear with some one or other of the infirmities that attend religion. But at last I told him that it was but in vain to attempt fur- ther 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 : (1 Luke xvi. 15. c Mark viii. 38. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 183 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 with- stand this villain so bravely ; for, of all, as thou sayest, 1 think he has the wrong name ; for he is so bold as to follow us into 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 auda- cious, he would never attempt to do as he does: but let us still resist him ; for, notwithstanding all his brava- does, he promoteth the fool, and none else. The wise shall inherit glory, said Solomon, but shame shall be the promotion of fools.^ Faith. I think we must cry, for help against Shame, to Him that would have us to be valiant for truth upon the earth. Chr. You say true ; but did you meet nobody else in that valley ? Faith. No, not I ; for I had sunshine all the rest of the way through that, and also through the valley of the Shadow of Death.* f Prov. iii. 35. * Christian, in great measure, escaped the peculiar temptations that assaulted Faithful ; yet he sympathized with him : nor did the latter deem the gloomy experiences of his brother visionary or imaginative, though he had been exempt from such trials. One man, from a complication of causes^ is exposed to temptations of which another is ignorant; in this case he needs much sympathy, which he seldom meets with ; while they, who are severe on him, are liable to be harassed and baffled in another way, which, for want of coincidence in habit, temperature, and situation, he is equally prone to disregard. Thus believers are often led reciprocally to censure, suspect, despise, or dislike each other, on those very grounds which should render them useful and encouraging counsellors and companions. 184 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. 'Twas well for you; I am sure it fared far otherwise with me. I had for a long season, as soon almost as I entered into that valley, a dreadful combat with that foul fiend Apollyon ; yea, I thought verily he would have killed me, especially when he got me down, and crushed me under him, as if he would have crushed me to pieces ; for as he threw me, my sword flew out of my hand : nay, he told me he was sure of me ; but I cried to God, and he heard me, and delivered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half the way through it. I thought I should have been killed there over and over : but at last day brake, and the sun rose, and I went through that which was be- hind 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 * The character next introduced, under a most expressive name, is an admirable portrait, drawn by a masterly hand from some striking original, but exactly resemblinof numbers in every age and place, where the truths of the Gospel are generally known. Talkative is not thus called merely on account of his loquacity, but from the peculiarity of his religious profession, which gave scope to his natural propensity, by furnishing him with a copious subject, and enabling him to display his talents, or seek credit in the church, without the trouble and expense of experimental and practical godliness. Such vain talkers especially appear when religious profession is safe, cheap, and reputable ; numbers keeping one another in countenance, preventing the odium of singularity, and even giving a prospect of secular advantage by connexion with religious societies. They may, therefore, be expected in our age and nation, particularly in populous places, where the preaching or profession of any doctrine excites little attention or suprise, but ensures regard and favour from a numerous body who hold the same opinions. Such men appear above others, pushing themselves into notice, and becoming more conspicuous than humble believers ; but their profession, specious at a distance, will not endure a near and strict investigation. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, 185 TALR.VTIVE db- SCRIBED. them all to walk. He was a tall man, and something more comely at a dis- tance 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 shall have your good company. Talk. With a very good will, will I be your com- panion. Faith. Come on, then, and let us go together, and let us spend our time in discoursing of talk7ti7e'' ^eI things that are profitable. course'!^" 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, talkative-s ms- * LIKE OF BAD DIS- there are but few who care thus to spend "^o^r^e- their time as they are in their travels, but choose much rather to be speaking of things to no profit; and this hath been a trouble to me. Faith. That is, indeed, a thing to be lamented ; for what things so worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of the God of heaven ? Talk. I like you wonderfully well, for your saying is full of conviction ; and I will add, what thing is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God ? What things so pleasant ? that is, if a man hath any delight in things that are wonderful. For instance : if a man doth delight to talk of the history or the mystery of things ; or if a man doth Y talkative's fine discodrse. 186 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 that which we design. Talk. That is it that I said; for to talk of such things is most profitable ; for by so doing a man may get knowledge of many things ; as, of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit of things above. Thus in general : but more particularly, by this a man may learn the necessity of the new birth, the insufficiency of our works, the need of Christ's righteousness, &:c. Besides, by this a man may learn 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 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 * Zealous and lively Christians, who are not well established in judgment and experience, are often greatly taken with the discourse of persons who speak with great fluency and speciousness on various subjects, with a sem- blance of truth and piety ; yet they sometimes feel, as it were, a defect in their harangues, which makes them hesitate, though they are easily satisfied with plausible explanations. Talkative's discourse is copied with surpri- sing exactness from that of numbers, who learn doctrijially to discuss ex- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 187 these is the gift of God; no man attaineth to them by' human industry, or only by the talk of them. Talk. All that I know very well ; for a man can re- ceive nothing, except it be given him from oh, brave talk- heaven: all is of grace, not of works. I could give you a hundred scriptures for the confirma- tion of this. 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 pro- fane ; things past, or things to come ; things foreign, or things at home ; things more essential, or things cir- cumstantial, provided that all be done to our profit. 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 OH, BRAVE TALK- ATIVE. FAITHFUL BEGUIL- ED BYTALKATIVE, perimental subjects, of which they never felt the energy and efficacy ik their own souls. Men of this stamp can take up any point in religion witn great ease, and speak on it in a pompous ostentatious manner; but the humble believer forgets himself, while from his inmost heart he expatiates on topics which he longs to recommend to those whom he addresses. Hu- mility and charity, however, dispose the possessors to make the best of others, and to distrust themselves : so that, unless these graces be connected with proportionable depth of judgment, and acuteness of discernment, they ren- der them open to deception, and liable to be deceived by vain-glorious talkers. It would be conceited and uncandid, they think, to suspect a man, who says so many good things, with great confidence and zeal ; their dissatisfaction with the conversation or sermon they suppose was their own fault; if they disagreed with the speaker, probably they were in error ; if a doubt arose in their minds about his spirit or motives, it might be imputed to their own pride and envy. Thus men are seduced to sanction what they ought to protest against, and to admire those whom they should avoid ; and that even by means of their most amiable dispositions. What follows is peculiarly calculated to rectify such mistakes, and to expose the consequences of this ill judged candour. 188 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. a brave companion have we got ! Surely this man wih make a very excellent pilgrim. At this Christian modestly smiled,* and said, This CHRISTIAN MAKES man, with whom you are so taken, will TALKATIVE, TELL- beo;uile wlth this tonoue of his, twenty of INO FAITHFOL WHO ^ O ' ./ «^ '^^'- them that know him not. Faith. Do you know him, then ? Chr. Know him ! Yes, better than he knows himself. Faith. Pray, what is he ? Chr. His name is Talkative: he dwelleth in our town. I wonder that you should be a stranger to him ; only I consider that our town is large. Faith. Whose son is he ? and whereabout doth he dwell ? Chr. He is the son of one Say-well, he dwelt in Prating-row ; and he is known to all that are acquainted with him by the name of Talkative, of Prating-row j and, notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow. Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. * Those believers, who have made the most extensive and accurate ob- servations on the state of religious profession in their own age and place, and are most acquainted with the internal history of the church in other lands, or former periods, may be deemed inferior in charity to their brethren ; because they surpass them in penetration, and clearly perceive the mischiefs which arise from countenancing loose professors. They would vie with them in 'doing good to all men,' 'bearing with the infirmities of the weak,' ' restoring such as are overtaken in a fault,' or in making allowances for the tempted ; but they dare not sanction such professors as talk about re- ligion and disgrace it, as mislead the simple, stumble the hopeful, prejudice the observing, and give enemies a plausible objection to the truth. Here charity constrains us to run the risk of being deemed uncharitable, by un- masking the hypocrite, and undeceiving the deluded. We must not indeed speak needlessly against any one, nor testify more than we know to be true, even against a suspected professor ; but we should show, that vain talkers belong to the world, though numbers class them among religious people, to *he great discredit of the cause. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 189 Chr. That is, to them that have not a thorough ac- quaintance 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 dis- tance ; but very near, more unpleasing. Faith. But I am ready to think you do but jest, be- cause 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:" talkative 1 ^ ^ ' TALKS.BUT DOES but the kingdom of God is not in word, ''°'^- but in power.^ 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 sav of him is the truth. His his house is '' EMPTYOFRELI- house is as empty of religion as the °'°''- white of an egg is of savour. There is there neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin ; yea, the brute, in his kind, serves God far better than he. He is the very stain, reproach, and g Matt, xxiii. 3. 1 Cor. iv. 20. HE IS A STAIN TO RELIGION. MEN SHUN T DEAL WITH HIM. 190 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. shame of religion to all that know him;'' it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the town where he THE PROVERB dwells, throuo;h him. Thus say the com- tha r goes of ~ ^ '"*' mon people that know him, " A saint ahroad, and a devil at home." His poor family finds it so; he is such a churl, such a railer at, and so un- reasonable with his servants, that they neither know how to do for, or to speak to him. Men that have any o dealings with him say, It is better to deal with a Turk than with him, for fairer dealings they shall have at their hands. This Talka- tive, if it be possible, will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he brings up his sons to follow his steps ; and if he finds in any of them a foolish timorousness, (for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience,) he calls them fools and blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their commendation before others. For my part, I am of opinion, that he has, by his wicked life, caused many to stumble and fall ; and will be, if God prevents not, the ruin of many more. Faith. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you, not only because you say you know him, but also be- cause, like a Christian, you make your reports of men. For I cannot think that you speak these things of ill- will, but because it is even so as you say. Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might, perhaps, have thought of him as at the first you did ; yea, had I received this report at their hands only that are enemies to religion, I should have thought it had been a slander, — a lot that often falls from bad men's mouths upon good men's names and professions. But all these things, yea, and a great many more as bad, h Rom. ii. 23, 24. THE CARCASE OF RELIGION. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 191 of my own knowledge, I can prove him guilty of. Be- sides, 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 distinc- tion.* 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 carcase, so saying, if it be alone, is but a dead carcase also. The soul of religion is the practical part. " Pure reli- gion 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." ' This, i James i. 22—27. * Talkative seems to have been introduced on purpose that the author might have a fair opportunity of stating his sentiments concerning tlie prac- tical nature of religion, to which numbers in his day were too inattentive. This admired allegory has fully established the important distinction, be- tween a dead and a living faith,, on which the whole matter depends. We may boldly state every doctrine of grace, with all possible strength and clearness, and every objection must ultimately fall to the ground, all abuses be excluded, provided this distinction be fully and constantly insisted on : for they arise without exception from substituting some false notion of faith in the place of that living, active, and efficacious principle, which the Scrip- tures so constantly represent as the grand peculiarity of vital godliness. The language used in this passage is precisely the same as is now branded with the opprobrious epithet of legal, by numbers who would be thought to admire the Pilgrim ; as any impartial person must perceive, upon an atten- tive perusal of it: and, indeed, some expressions are used which they, who are accustomed to stand their trial before such as ' make a man an offender for a word,' have learned to avoid. ' The practice part' is accurately de- fined to be the unfailing effect of that inward life which is the soul of reli- gion. True faith justifies indeed, as it forms the sinner's relation to, and union with, Christ; but it always ' works by love,' and influences to obe- dience : hence the inquiry at the day of judgment will be rather about the inseparable fruits of faith, than its essential properties and nature. 192 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Talkative is not aware of; he thinks that hearing and saying will make a good Christian ; and thus he de- ceiveth 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 our- selves, that at the day of doom, men shall be judged according to their fruits."^ It will not be said then, Did you believe? but. Were you doers, or talkers only? and accordingly shall they be judged. The end of the world is compared to our harvest ; and you know, men at harvest regard nothing but fruit. Not that any thing aan 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.' He is such an one that parteth the hoof, and cheweth the cud ; not that parteth the hoof only, or that cheweth the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud, but yet is un- clean, 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 part- eth not with the way of sinners ; but, as the hare, he retaineth the foot of a dog or bear, and therefore he is unclean. Chr. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel sense of these texts; and I will add another Talkative like tliinij I Paul callcth somc mcu, yea, and TWO THINGS THAT ~ SOUND. wiTHODT t^Qsc grcat talkcrs too, sounding brass and tinkling cymbals; that is, as he expounds them in another place, things without life, giving sound.™ k Matt. siii. 23. 1 Lev. xi. Deut. siv. m J Cor. xiii. 1—3. xiv. •» FAITHFUL CON- VINCED OF THE BADNESS OF TALK- ATIVE. ■THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 193 Things without life ; that is, without the true faith and grace of the gospel; and, consequently, things that shall never be placed in the kingdom of heaven among those that are the children of life ; though their sound, by their talk, be as if it were the tongue or voice of an angel. Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, as I am 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 * When we speak to loose professors, we should always keep two things in view ; either to get rid of such ensnaring and dishonourable companions, or to use proper means to convince them of their fatal mistake. There is indeed more hope of the most ignorant and careless sinners than of them : yet ' with God all things are possible,' and we should not despair of any, especially as the very same method is suited to both the ends proposed ; which the subsequent discourse most clearly evinces. Very plain and par- ticular declarations of those things, by which true believers are distinguished from the most specious hypocrites (whether in conversation or preaching) are best calculated to undeceive and alarm false professors ; and form the most commodious fan, by which the irreclaimable may be winnowed from the society of godly persons. This is of great importance ; for they are Achans in the camp of Israel, spots and blemishes to every company that countenances them. Doctrinal or even practical discussions, if confined to general terms, will not startle them ; they will mimic the language of ex- perience, declaim against the wickedness of the world and the blindness of pharisees, and strenuously oppose the opinions held by some rival sect or party ; they will endure the most awful declarations of the wrath of God against the wicked, supposing themselves to be unconcerned in them ; nay, they will admit that they are backsliders, or inconsistent believers. But when the conversation or sermon compels them to complain, ' in so saying thou condemnest us also,' they will bear no longer, but seek refuge under more comfortable preachers, or in more candid company ; and represent their faithful monitors as censorious, peevish, and melancholy men. Z FALSE DISCOVERY OF A WORK OF GRACE. 194 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 con- versation. 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 TALKATivE's tlic DOWcr of thiugs. Well, it is a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you ; and take my answer in brief thus : First, where the grace of God is in the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Secondly, — Faith. Nay, hold : let us consider of one at once. I think you should rather say. It shows itself by inclin- ing 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 o CRY OHT against sin, of policy ; but he cannot ab- hor 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 ; but she would willingly, notwithstanding that, have com- mitted uncleanness with him." Some cry out against AGAINST , SIN NO SIGN OF GRACE. n Gen. zxxiz. 71 — 'S GREAT KNOW- LEDGE NO SIGN or GRACE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 195 sin, even as the mother cries out against her child in her lap, when she calls it slut and naughty girl, and then falls to huCTorinor and kissincr 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 mys- teries of the gospel, and yet no work of grace in the soul." Yea, if a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so, consequently, be no child of God. When Christ said, " Do ye know all these things ?" and the disciples had answered. Yes, he added, " Blessed are ye, if ye do them." He doth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing of knowledge asd them. For there is a knowledge that is not attended with doing : " he that knoweth his mas- ter's will, and doeth it not." A man may know like an angel, and yet be no Christian : therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to know is a thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters ; but to do, is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good without know- ledge, for without that the heart is naught. There is, therefore, knowledge and knowledge :* knowledge that o 1 Cor. xiii. 2. * Spiritual knowledge, obtained by an implicit belief of God's sure testi- mony under the teaching of the Holy Spirit, producing a hearty love or* re- vealed truth, is always humbling, sanctifying, and transforming: but specu- lative knowledge is a mere notion of divine things, as distant from a man'a own concern in them, or any due apprehension of their excellency and im- portance, which puffs up the heart with proud self preference, feeds carnal and malignant passions, and leaves the possessor under the power of sin and Satan. TRUE KNOWLE ATTENDED W ENDEAVOURS. 196 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. resteth in the bare speculation of things, and know- DGE ledge that is accompanied with the grace iTH o r o 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." ^ 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 disco vereth 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 ONE GOOD s,.GN of siu, cspccially of the defilement of his OF GRACE. nature, and the sin of unbelief,* for the p Psalm cxix. 34. * Divine teaching convinces a man that he is justly condemned for his transgressions of the law, and cannot be saved unless he obtains an interest in the merits of Christ by faith ; and that unbelief, or neglect of this great salvation, springs from pride, aversion to the character, authority, and law of God, and love to sin and the world ; that it implies the guilt of treating the truth of God as a lie, despising his wisdom and mercy, demanding hap- piness as a debt from his justice, and defying his ' wrath revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men.' This convic- tion makes way for his discovering the suitableness to his case of a free sal- vation by faith : he perceives the glory of the Divine perfections harmoniously displayed in the person and redemption of Christ; and his heart is inwardly drawn to close with the invitations of the Gospel, and to desire above all things the fulfilment of its exceedingly great and precious promises to his soul. The expression ' revealed in him,' is taken from St. Paul's account THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 197 sane of which he is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand, by faith in Jesus Christ.** This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for sin ; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the absolute neces- sity of closing with him for life ; at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him ; to which hunger- ings, &:c. the promise is made.' Now, according to the strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But though, 1 say, it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom that he is able to con- clude that this is a work of grace ; because his corrup- tions now, and his abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this matter : therefore in him that hath this work there is required a very sound judgment, before he can with steadiness conclude that this is a work of grace. To others it is thus discovered ; First, By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ. Secondly, By a life answerable to that con- fession ; to wit, a life of holiness ; heart-holiness, family- q Mark xvi. 16. John xvi. 8, 9. Rom. vii. 24. r Psalm xxxviii. 18. Jer. xxxi. 19. Matt. v. 6. Acts iv. 12. Gal. i. 15, 16. Rev. xxi. 6. of his conversion (Gal. i. 16 ;) but as that was extraordinary, without the in- tervention of means or instruments, perhaps it is not accurately applied to the ordinary experience of believers. Our author, however, evidently meant no more, than the illumination of the Holy Spirit enabling a man to under- stand, believe, admire, and love the truths of the Bible respecting Christ ; and not any new revelation, declaring his interest in the Saviour, by a whis- per, vision, or any such thing, These enthusiastic expectations and expe- riences have deceived many and stumbled more; and have done greater harm to the cause of evangelical religion than can be conceived or ex- pressed. 198 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 J to suppress it in his family, and to promote holiness in the world : not by talk only, as an hypo- crite or talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection in faith and love to the power of the word.' And now, sir, as to this brief description of the worK of grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have aught to object, object ; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a second question. Talk. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear : let me, therefore, have your second question. Faith. It is this : Do you experience this first part oon of the description of it? and doth your life and conversation testify the same? Or, standeth your religion in word or tongue, and not in deed and truth ? Pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than you know the God above will say Amen to; and also nothing but what your con- science can justify you in : " for not he that com- mendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord com- mendeth." Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when my conversation and all my neighbours tell me I lie, is great wickedness. Then Talkative at first began to blush ; but, reco- vering himself, thus he replied : You come now to ex- perience, 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 dis- '^11 posed to give an answer to such ques- tions : because I count not myself bound ANOTHER G SIGN OF GRACE. TALKATIVE NOT FLEASED W KAITHFDL'S Q TIO«. 8 Psalm 1. 23. Ezek. xx. 43, 44. Matt. v. 8. John xiv. 15. Rom. x. 9, 10. Pliil. iii. 17—20. THE REASON WHY FAITHFUL PUT TO HIM THAT QUES- TION. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 199 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 be- cause 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 amonor Chris- faithfuls plain ^ " DEALING WITH tians; and that religion fareth the worse talkative. for your ungodly conversation ; that some have already stumbled at your wicked ways, and that more are in danger of being destroyed thereby ; your religion and an ale-house, and covetousness, and uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and vain company-keeping, &c. will stand together. The proverb is true of you which is said of a harlot, to wit, that " She is a shame to all women ;" so are you a shame to all professors.* Talk. Since you are so ready to take up reports, * It is not enough to state practical and experimental subjects in the plainest and most distinguishing manner : we ought also to apply them to men's consciences, by the most solemn and particular interrogations. In public, indeed, care must be taken, not to turn the thoughts of a congrega- tion to an individual: yet we should aim to lead every one to reflect on his own case, and excite his conscience to perform the office of a faithful mon- itor. But in private, when we have ground to suspect that men deceive themselves, such plain dealing is the best evidence of disinterested love. It is at present, alas ! much disused, and deemed inconsistent with polite- ness ; so that, in many cases, an attempt of this kind would be considered as a direct outrage and insult : and perhaps in some circles, the language of these plain Pilgrims might be exchanged for that which would be less offensive, without deducting from its energy ; yet zeal for the honour of the gospel, and love to the souls of men, are, no doubt, grievously sacrificed to urbanity in this age of courteous insincerity. 200 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. FLINGS AWAY FROM FAITHFUL TALKATIVE End to judgG SO rashly as you do, 1 can- not but conclude you are some peevish or melancholic man, not fit to be discoursed with : and so, adieu. 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 com- pany than reform his life ; but he is gone, as I said : ^ GOOD RIDDANCE. Ict him go, thc loss is no man's but his own. He has saved us the trouble of going from him ; for he continuing (as I suppose he will do) as he is, would have been but a blot in our company : besides, the apostle says, " From such withdraw thyself." * Faith. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him ; it may happen that he will think of it again ; however, I have dealt plainly with him, and so am clear of his blood if he perisheth. Chr. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did ; there is but little of this faithful dealing with men now-a-days, and that makes religion to stink so in the * This apostolic rule is of the greatest importance. While conscientious Christians, from a mistaken candour, tolerate scandalous professors, and associate with them, they seem to allow that they belong to the same family ; and the world will charge their immoralities on the doctrines of the gospel, saying of those who profess them, ' They are all alike, if we could find them out,' But did all who ' adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour,' withdraw from such men ; their crimes would rest with themselves, and the world would be compelled to see the difference between hypocrites and real Christians. This is also the most effectual method of exciting self-deceivers or inconsistent professors to self-examination, and of thus bringing them to be ashamed and humbled in true repentance : and, at the same time, it tends to deprive such men of that influence, which they oflen employ to mislead and pervert hopeful inquirers and unestablished believers. Even the best conducted discipline would have but a partial effect in preventing these evils, if not followed up by this conduct of individuals; aud, where the former cannot be obtained, the latter would produce happier consequen- ces than believers in general would suppose. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 201 nostrils of many as it doth : for they are these talka- tive fools, whose religion is only in word, and are de- bauched and vain in their conversation, that, being so much admitted into the fellowship of the godly, do puzzle the world, blemish Christianity, and grieve the sincere. I wish that all men would deal with such as you have done ; then should they either be made more conformable to religion, or the company of saints would be too hot for them. Then did Faithful say — How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes ! How bravely doth he speak ! How he presumes To drive down all before him ! But so soon As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon That's past the full, into the wane he goes ; And so will all but he that heart-work knows. Thus they went on, talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made that way easy, which would otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to them : for now they went through a wilderness. Now, when they were got almost quite out of this wilderness. Faithful chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one coming after them, and he knew him. Oh ! said Faithful to his brother, who comes yonder? — Then Christian looked, and said. It is my good friend Evangelist. Ay, and my good friend too, said Faith- ful, for it was he that set me in the way to the Gate. Now was Evangelist come up unto them and thus saluted them, Evan. Peace be with you, dearly beloved ; and peace be to your helpers. Chr. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist ; the sight of thy countenance brings to my remembrance thy ancient kindness and ""*• unwearied labours for my eternal good. 2A EVANGELIST OVERTAKES THEM. THEY ARE GLAD AT THE SIGHT OF HIS EX TION TO THEM. 202 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful ; thy company, O sweet Evangelist, how desirable is it to us poor pilgrims ! Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, my friends, since the time of our last parting ? What have you met with, and how have you behaved your- selves ? Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had happened to them in the way ; and how, and with what difficulty, they had arrived to that place. Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have HORTA- niet with trials, but that you have been victors, and for that you have, notwith- standing many weaknesses, continued in the way to this day. I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own sake and yours. I have sowed, and you have reaped ; and the day is coming, when " both he that soweth and they that reap shall rejoice together ;" that is, if you hold out ; " for in due time ye shall reap if ye faint not."* The crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one ; " so run, that you may obtain it." Some there be that set out for this crown, and after they have gone far for it, another comes in and takes it from them ; " hold fast, therefore, that you have ; let no man take your crown."" You are not yet out of the gun-shot of the devil: "you have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin :" let the kingdom be al- ways before you, and believe steadfastly concerning the things that are invisible : let nothing that is on this side the other world get within you: and, above all, look well to your own hearts and to the lusts thereof, t John iv. 36. Gal. vi. 9. u 1 Cor. ix. 24—27. Rev. iii. 11. THEY DO THANK HIM FOR HIS KX- R T A T I O N. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 203 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.* 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 re- quest 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 he predicteth through many tribulations enter into the rKEVsnlirMEET " with in vanity kingdom of heaven." And again, that ''''"^' ^"^ ■="'='"'■ t3 ' rageththemto steadfastness. " in every city bonds and afflictions abide you ;" and therefore you cannot expect that you should go long on your pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other. You have found something of the truth of these testimonies upon you already, and more will im- mediately follow : for now, as you see, you are almost out of this wilderness, and therefore you will soon * The author, intending in the next place to represent his Pilgrims as exposed to severe persecution, and to exhibit in one view what Christians should expect, and may be exposed to, from the enmity of the world, very judiciously introduces that interesting scene by Evangelist's meeting them, with suitable cautions, exhortations, and encouragements. The minister, by whose faithful labours a man is first directed into the way of salvation, commonly retains great influence, and is considered with special afl^ection, even when various circumstances have placed him at a distance under some other pastori The conversation therefore, of such a beloved friend tends to recall to the minds of believers their former fears, trials, and deliverances, which animates them to encounter further difficulties, and opens the way for seasonable counsels and admonitions. 204 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. come into a town that you will by and by see before you : and in that town you will be hardly beset with enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you: and be you sure that one or both of you must seal the testimony, which you hold, with blood ; but " be you faithful unto death, and the King will give you a crown HE WHOSE LOT IT of lifc." Hc that shall die there, although ■WILL BE THERE TO i'ii-iii i 11* snFFER, WILL his dcath will be unnatural, and nis pam, havethebetter *• OF HIS BROTHER. pgHiaps, grcat, 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 remem- ber 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, * The able and faithful minister can foretell many things, from his know- ledge of the Scriptures, and enlarged experience and observation, of which his people are not aware. He knows beforehand, that 'through much tribulation they must enter into the kingdom of God ;' and the circumstan- ces of the times aid him in discerning what trials and difficulties more especially await them. A retired life shelters a believer from the enmity of the world : and timid men are often tempted on this account to abide in the ioilderriess ; to choose obscurity and solitude for the sake of quiet and safety, to the neglect of those active services for which they are qualified. But when Christians are called forth to more public situations, they need peculiar cautions and instructions: for inexperience renders men inattentive to the words of Scripture ; and they otlen do not at all expect, or prepare for, the trials which are inseparable from those scenes, on which they are perhaps even impatient to enter. THE ANTIQUITY OF THIS FAIR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 205 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.'"' This tair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient standing ; I will show you the original of it. Almost five thousand years ago, there were pilgrims walking to the Celestial City, as these two honest persons are ; and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving by the path that the pilgrims made, that their way to the city lay through this town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a fair ; a fair wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity ; and that it should last all the year long. Therefore, at this fair are all such merchandise sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, honours, pre- ferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures; and delights of all sorts, as harlots, bawds, wives, hus- bands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not. And, moreover, at this fair there are at all times to be seen jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every kind. Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries, false-swearers, and that of a blood- red colour. And, as in other fairs of less moment, there are sev- eral rows and streets under their proper names, where such and such wares are vended ; so here, likewise, you have the proper places, rows, streets, (viz. countries and V Eccles. i. 2, 14. ii. 11, 17. xi. 8. Isa. xl. 17. THEMERCHANDISB OF THIS FAIR. 206 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. kingdoms,) where the wares of this fair are soonest to THE STREETS OF ^e found. Hcrc is the Britain-row, the French-row, the Italian-row, the Spanish- row, the German-row, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as in other fairs, some one com- modity is the chief of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted in this fair . only our English nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat.* * Our author evidently designed to exhibit in his allegory the grand out- lines of the difficulties, temptations, and sufferings, to which believers are exposed in this evil vi^orld; which, in a work of this nature, must be related as if they came upon them one after another in regular succession ; though in actual experience several may meet together, many may molest the same person again and again, and some harrass him in every stage of his journey. We should, therefore, singly consider the instruction conveyed by every allegorical incident, without measuring our experience, or calcu- lating our progress, by comparing them with circumstances, which might be reversed or altered with almost endless variety. In general. Vanity Fair represents the wretched state of things, in those populous places especially where true religion is neglected and persecuted, and indeed of ' the whole world lying in wickedness,' as distinguished from the church of redeemed sinners. This continues the same (in respect of the general principles, conduct, and pursuits of mankind,) through all ages and nations : but Chris- tians are called to mix more with it, at some times than at others ; and Satan, the god and prince of it, is permitted to excite fierce persecution in some places, and on some occasions, while at other times he is restrained. Many, therefore, seem to spend all their days in the midst of Vanity Fair, and of continual insults or injuries ; while others are only sometimes thus exposed, and pass most of their lives unmolested : and a few are favoured with so obscure a situation, and such peaceable times, that they are very little acquainted with these trials. Mr. Bunyan, living in the country, had fi-equent opportunities of witnessing those Fairs, which are held first in one town and then in another ; and of observing the pernicious effects produced on the principles, morals, health, and circumstances of young persons espe- cially, by thus drawing together a multitude, from motives of interest, dis- sipation and excess. He must also, doubtless, have found them to be a very dangerous snare to serious or hopeful persons : so that his delineation of this case under allusions taken from this scene, will be more interesting and affecting to those who have been spectators of it, than to such as have THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 207 Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just through this town where this lusty fair is kept ; and he chat will go to the city, and yet not go through this town, must needs go out of the world. The Prince of moved in higher circles, or dwelt chiefly in populous cities. — Worldly men covet, pursue, grasp at, and contend for the things of time and sense, with eagerness and violence, so that their whole conduct aptly resembles the bustle, selfishness, artifice, dissipation, riot, and tumult of a large crowded Fair. The profits, pleasures, honours, possessions, and distinctions of the world, are as transient and frivolous as the events of the fair-day ; with which the children are delighted, but which every man of sense contemns. Solomon, after a complete experiment, pronounced the whole to be ' vanity of vanities:' the veriest vanity imaginable, a complex vanity, an accumu- lation of ciphers, a lottery consisting entirely of blanks ; every earthly ob- ject being unsuitable to the wants of the rational soul, unsubstantial, unsat- isfactory, and perishing. — Yet this traffic of vanities is kept up all the year: because the carnal mind always hankers after one worldly trifle or other, and longs ' for change of follies and relays of joy ;' while objects suited to its feverish thirst are always at hand to allure it, deriving their etficacy from continually pressing, as it were, on the senses. — When our first parents were fatally prevailed on to join Satan's apostasy, they ' forsook the fountain of living waters, to hew out to themselves broken cisterns;' and the idol- atry of seeking happiness from the creature instead of the Creator, has been universal among all their posterity. Since the promise of a Saviour opened to fallen men a door of hope, the tempter has continually tried to allure them by outward objects, or induce them by the dread of pain and suffering to 'neglect so great salvation.' Thus the prince of the devils sets up this Fair ; and by teaching men to abuse the good creatures of God to vile pur- poses, or to expect from them such satisfaction as they were never meant to aflfbrd, he has used them as baits to the ambition, avarice, levity, and sen- suality of the carnal mind. No crime has ever been committed on earth, or conceived in the heart of man, which did not arise from this universal apostasy and idolatry ; from the excess, to which the insufficiency of the object to answer the proposed end, gives rise; and from the vile passions which the jarring interests or inclinations of numberless competitors for honour, power, wealth, and pleasure, cannot fail to excite. As the streams of impiety and vice, which flow from this source, are varied, according to men's constitutions, educations, habits and situations; so different worldly pursuits predominate in divers nations, or stages of civilization. Hence the manifold variations in the human character, which equal the diversity of their complexions, shape or capacities, though they be all of one nature. 208 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. PAIR. CHRIST WENT Driiices himself, when here, went through ROUGH THIS 1- ' ' O this town to his own country, and that upon a fair-day too : yea, and, as I think, it was Beel- zebub, 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 w^ent through the town : 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 that blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his vanities : CHRIST BocGHT but he had no mind to the merchandise, MOTHINO IN THIS ' ^'''^- and therefore left the town, without lay- ing out so much as one farthing upon these vanities."^ This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, of long stand- ing, 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 THE PILGRIMS ENTER THE FAIR. w Matt. iv. 8, 9. Luke iv. 5—7. To this an allusion is made by ' the rows' in this Fair. The merchandise of Rome, which suited a rude and ignorant age, has now given place to the more plausible wares of sceptical philosophers which are more agreeable to the pride of learning and human reasoning. Even things lawful in them- selves, when sought, or possessed in a manner which is not consistent with " seeking Jirst the kingdom of God, and his righteousness," become allure- ments of Satan to draw sinners into his fatal snare. * Christianity does not allow men to ' bury their talent in the earth,' or to put ' their light under a bushel :' they should not ' go out of the world,' or retire into cloisters and deserts : and therefore, they must all go through this Fair. Thus our Lord and Saviour endured all the temptations and suf- ferings of this evil world, without being at all impeded or entangled by them, or stepping in the least aside to avoid them. The age in which he Uved peculiarly abounded in all possible allurements; and he was exposed to such enmity, contempt, and sufferings, as could never be exceeded or equalled. But 'he went about doing good ;' and his whole conduct, as well as his indignant repulse of the tempter's insolent offer, hath emphatically THE FIRST CADSe OF THE HOBBDB. THE SECOND CACS» OF THE HUBBOB. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 209 people in the fair were moved : and the * ■^ THE FAIR IN A HUB 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. Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at their speech ; for few conld understand what they said. They naturally spoke the language of Canaan ; but they thai 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.* X 1 Cor. iv. 9, 10. y Psaira cxix. 37. shown his judgment of all earthly things, and exhibited to us * an example that we should follow his steps.' Here are inserted the following lines : — ' Behold Vanity Fair ! The Pilgrims there Are chained, and stoned beside : Even so it was our Lord past here, And on Mount Calvary died.' * The presence of real Christians in those places, where a large concourse of worldly men are collected for sinful purposes, must produce a disturbance and effervescence ; and the smaller the number is of those who by their 2B THIRD CAUSE OF THE HCBBOB. PODRTH CAUSE or THE HUBBDB. THEY ARE MOCKED. 210 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. One chanced, mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, to say unto them, What will ye buy? But they, looking gravely upon him, said. We buy the truth.'' At that, there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more, some mocking, some taunting, some speaking re- proachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them. At last, things came to a hubbub and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was con- founded. Now was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take those men into examination, about whom the fair was almost over- z Prov. xxiii. 23. actions, words, or silence, protest against vice and impiety, the fiercer the opposition that will be excited. A pious clergyman on board a vessel, where he was a single exception to the general ungodliness that prevailed, gave great offence by constantly but silently withdrawing, when oaths or un- seemly discourse made his situation uneasy ; and he was called to account tor so assuming a singularity ! — Consistent believers, appearing in character among worldly people, and not disguising their sentiments, always excite this opposition ; but more accommodating professors escape it. An avowed dependence on the righteousness and atonement of Christ for acceptance, gives vast offence to those who rely on their own good works for justifica- tion : and conformity to the example, and obedience to the commandments of the Redeemer, are deemed precise and uncouth in the judgment of those who ' walk according to the course of this world ;' and they deem the Christian insane or outlandish for his peculiarities. His discourse, seasoned with piety, humility, and spirituality, so differs from the ' filthy conversation of the wicked,' and the polite dissimulation of the courtly, that they can have no intercourse with him, or he with them : and when he speaks of the love of Christ, and the satisfaction of communion with Him, while they ' blas- pheme the worthy name by which he is called ;' they must seem barbarians aach to the other. But above all, the believer's contempt of worldly things, when they interfere with the will and glory of God, forms such a testimony against all the pursuits and conduct of carnal men, as must excite their greatest astonishment and indignation ; while he shuns with dread and ab- horrence, as incompatible with salvation, those very things to which they wholly addict themselves without the least remorse. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 211 turned. So the men were brousfht to ex- THEY ARE E X- THEY TELL WHO THEY ARE, AND WHENCE THEY amination ; 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 hea- ^a"me. venly Jerusalem;* and that they had given no occa- sion to the men of the town, nor yet to the merchan- disers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey, except it was for that, when one asked them what tbey 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 ^hey are not 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 be- smeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a spectacle to all the men of the fair.* There, a Heb. xi. 13—16. * When the scoffs of those, ♦ who think it strange that Christians will not run with them to the same excess of riot,' extort from them a full and explicit declaration of their principles, it may be expected that the re- proaches and insults of their despisers will be increased ; and then all the mischief and confusion which follow will be laid to their charge — ' There were no such disputes about religion before they came ;' ' These men who turn the world upside down are come hither also;' 'they exceedingly trouble the city,' town or village by their uncharitable discourse and ex- ample ! — Thus Satan takes occasion to excite persecution, when he fears lest the servants of God should successfully disseminate their principles ; and persecuting princes and magistrates, his ' most trusty friends,' are de- puted by him to molest and punish their peaceable subjects, for conscien- tiously refusing conformity to the world, or for dissenting from doctrines and modes of worship which they deem unscriptural. Thus the most valu- able members of the community are banished, imprisoned, or murdered ; THEY ARE PUT IN THE CAGE. TBEIR BEHAVIODR IN THE CAGE. 212 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 raihng for railing, but con- trariwise blessing, and giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair, that were more observing and less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort for their con- tinual abuses done by them to the men. They, there- fore, 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 others replied, that, for aught they could see, the men were quiet and sober, and intended nobody any harm ; and that there were many that traded in their fair that were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, than were the men that they had abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, (the men be- having themselves all the while very wisely and soberly before them,) they fell to some blows among them- selves, and did harm one to another. Then were these multitudes are tempted to hypocrisy; encouragement is given to time- servers to seek secular advantages by acting contrary to their consciences; the principles of sincerity and integrity are generally weakened or de- stroyed by multiplied prevarications and false professions; and numerous instruments of cruelty and oppression are involved in this complication of atrocious crimes. — Our author doubtless drew many of his portraits, in the subsequent historical picture, from originals then sufficiently known ; and if any think that he has heightened his colourings, it may furnish them with a subject for gratitude, and a reason for content and peaceable submis- sion to our rulers. In Fox's Martyrs we meet with authenticated facts, that fully equal this allegorical representation : nay, ' The Acts of the Apostles' give us the very same view of the subject. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 213 two poor men brought before their examiners again, and were charged as beinsj guilty of the they are made r> O O >/ THE ADTHORS OF late hubbub that had been in the fair. rAl_ disturb- So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and they are led J t r • r 11 "'' *"" "OWN THE down the lair, tor an example and terror fair in chains. i FOR A TERROR TO 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 Cthouorh but few in compa- some men of the ^ ^ ^ Fair won over rison of the rest) several of the men in '^° '^"^'^■ the fair. This put the other party yet into a greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these two men. Wherefore they threatened, that neither caoe nor irons should serve their turn, their adversa- •-^ ries resolve to ILL THEM. but that they should die for the abuse """ they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair.* * The contempt, injustice, and cruelty, with which persecutors treat the narmless disciples of Christ, gives them an occasion of discovering that amiable conduct and spirit which accord to the precepts of Scripture, and the example of persecuted prophets and apostles; and this often produces the most happy effects on those who are less prejudiced, which still more exasperates determined opposers ; yet it frequently procures a short respite for the persecuted, while worldly people quarrel about them among them- selves. And even if greater severity be at length determined on, perse- vering prudence, meekness, and patience, amidst all the rage of their ene- mies, will bear testimony for them in the consciences of numbers ; their religion will appear beautiful, in proportion as their persecutors expose their own odious deformity. God will be with them to comfort and deliver them, he will be honoured by their profession and behaviour, and many will de- rive the most important advantage, from their patient sufferings and cheer- ful fortitude in adhering to the truths of the gospel. But when believers are put off their guard by ill usage ; when their zeal is rash, contentious, boasting, or disproportionate ; when they are provoked to render 'railing for railing,' or to act contrary to the plain precepts of Scripture : thev 214 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then were they remanded to the cage agani, uniii THEY ARE AGAIN furthcr Order should be taken with them. PDT INTO THE 0( -i , . CAGE, AND AFTER- j^Q thev Dut thcm m, and made their feet WARDS BROCGHT ^1 ' TO TRIAL. ^^g^ -jj ^l^g Stocks. Here, also, they called agam 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 con- demnation. When the time was come, they were brought before their enemies and arrais^ned. The judge's name was Lord Hate-good : their indictment was one and the same in substance, though somewhat varying in form ; the contents whereof were these : " That they were enemies to, and disturbers of, the THEIR INDICTMENT, tradc t that . tlicy 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." FAiTHFCL AN- Thcu Faithful began to answer, that sei!f^^ for him- j^^ j^^^ ^^j^ ^^^ himself against that which had set itself against Him that is higher than bring guilt on their consciences, stumble their brethren, harden the hearts and open the mouths of opposers, dishonour God and the gospel, and gratify the great enemy of souls; who malignantly rejoices in their misconduct, but is tortured when they endure sufferings in a proper manner. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 215 the highest. And, said he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace : the parties that were won to us, were won by beholding our truth and innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as to the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy him and all his anf^els.* Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught to say for their lord the king, against the pri- soner 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.t * The description of the process, instituted against the Pilgrims, is given m language taken from the legal forms used in our courts of justice, which in Mr. Bunyan's days were shamefully perverted to subserve the most ini- quitous oppressions. The allegorical narrative is framed in such a manner^ as emphatically to expose the secret reasons, which influence men to perse- cute their inoffensive neighbours ; and the very names employed declare the several corrupt principles of the heart, from whence this atrocious conduct results. Enmity against God, and his holy character, law, worship, truth, and servants, is the principal source of persecution — the judge in Faithful's trial. The interference of spiritual religion with men's covetous, ambi- tious, and sensual pursuits ; and the interruption it gives to their false peace, and unanimity in ungodliness or hypocrisy, which it tends to expose and un- dermine, form the grounds of the indictment: that is, when the persecuted can truly answer, that they ' only set themselves against that which sets itself against Him, who is higher than the highest ;' and when they do not suffer • as evil doers, busy bodies in other men's matters,' ambitious com petitors for secular advantages, or contentious disputants about political questions. ' f The names of these witnesses declare the character of the most active instruments of persecution. Even Pilate could perceive that the Jewish Scribes and Priests were actuated by eiivy, in delivering up Jesus to him. His instructions discredited theirs, and diminished their reputation and in- fluence ; he was more followed than they : and in proportion as he was deemed a teacher sent from God, they were disregarded as blind guides. 216 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect : My ENvy BEGINS, lopd, I havc known this man a long time, and will attest upon my oath before this honourable bench, that he is — Judge. Hold, give him his oath. So they sware him. Then he said, 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 my- Thus formal instructors, and learned men, who are strangers to the power of godliness, have always affected to despise the professors and preachers of the gospel as ignorant enthusiasts. They envy the reputation acquired by them, and are angry at the success of their doctrines. If they have not the authority to silence the ministers, they will browbeat such of his hearers as are within the reach of their influence ; especially if they have affronted them by forsaking their uninteresting instructions. If they cannot prevail upon ' the powers that be' to interfere ; they will employ reproaches, me- naces, or even oppression, to obstruct the progress of evangelical ministers ; should any obsolete law remain unrepealed, of which they can take advan- tage, they will be the first to enforce it ; and if the rulers engage in perse- cution, they will take the lead as prosecutors and witnesses. As this was remarkably the case m our author's. days; and as the history of the old and new Testament, and every authentic record of persecutions, give the same view of it; we cannot be greatly at a loss to know what was especially meant by this emblem. In other respects there is seldom much in the cir- cumstances of pious persons, to excite the ejivy of their ungodly neigh- bours ; as they despise their spiritual privileges and comforts. "* It has always been the practice of envious accusers to represent those, who reftise religious conformity, as disloyal and disaffected to the civil go- vernment of their country ; because they judge it ' right to obey God rather than man !' How grievous then is it, that any, who profess the gospel, should give plausibility to such calumnies I How desirable for tliem, atler the example, and in obedience to the precepts, of Christ and his Apostles, ' by well doing to put to silence the ignorance of foolish men,' ' to avoid all appearance of evU,' ' to render to Cesar the things that are Cesar's,' and to constrain even enemies to bear testimony to their peaceable deport- SDPER3TITI0N FOLLOWS. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 217 self 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 m the doing of them. Then did the judge say to him, Hast thou any more to say ? Envy. My lord, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to the court. Yet, if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their evidence, rather than any thing shall be wanting that will dis- patch him, I will enlarge my testimony against him. So he was bid stand by. Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner ; they also asked him, what he could say for their lord the king against him ? Then they sware him ; so he began : Super. My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge of him ; however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that 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 ment ! This would exhibit their patient suffering for conscience' sake as amiable and respectable, in the eyes of all not immediately engaged in per secution ; and would give a sanction to their most bold and decided testi- mony against every kind of vice, impiety, and false religion. But when they revile the persons of rulers, or make religion the pretext for inter- meddling out of their place in political matters, and in attempting to dis- turb the peace of the community ; they exceedingly strengthen men's pre- judices against the doctrines of the gospel, and. the whole body of those who profess them ; and thus give occasion, and furnish an excuse, for that very persecution of which they complain, in other respects with the greatest justice. 2C 218 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. saying of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we still do worship in vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned : and this is that which I have to say.* Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew in behalf of their lord the king, against the pri- soner 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 honour- siNSAREALL qMo fricuds, wliosc names are the Lord o''^^- ^ Old Man, the Lord Carnal Delight, the pickthank's testimony. * Superstition represents another class of underling persecutors ; (for the principals are often masked infidels.) Traditions, human inventions, forms and externals, appear to them decent, venerable and sacred ; and are mis- taken with pertinacious ignorance, for the substance of religion. As mere circumstances of worship, some of these may very well answer the pur- pose; provided they be not imposed, magnified above their value, or substi- tuted in the place of things essentially good : others are bad, in their origin, use and tendency; yet the truths, ordinances and commandments of God are made void that men may keep them ! What is pompous or burdensome appears to such men meritorious ; and the excitement of mere natural pas- sions, (as at a tragedy,) is deemed a most needful help to true devotion. They are, therefore, eminently qualified to be witnesses against the faithful servants of God : for they ' think they are thus doing him service,' while they are opposing a company of profane despisers of their idolized forms; a set of fanatics, heretics, and pestilent schismatics ! Their religious zeal contracts and hardens their hearts ; and the supposed goodness of the cause sanctifies their bitter rage, enmity and calumny. Tlie extreme odiousness of these proceedings should excite all who love the truth, to keep at the utmost distance from such obstinate confidence and violence ; to discoun- tenance them to the utmost, in the zealots of their own sentiments ; and to leave the enemies of the gospel, if possible, to monopolize this disgrace. For, hitherto, almost all parties have been betrayed into it, when advanced tft power ; and this has given the enemies of Christianity their most plau- sible arguments against it. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 219 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 vili- fying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our town.* When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge directed his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying. Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee ? Faith. May I speak a few words in my own de- fence ? 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 '* Pickthank represents a set of tools that persecutors continually use ; namely, men of no religious principle ; who assume the appearance of zeal for any party, as may best promote their interests ; and who inwardly de- spise both the superstitious and the spiritual worshipper. These men discern little in the conduct or circumstances of believers to excite either tlieir rage, or envy ; but if their superiors be disposed to persecute, they will afford their assistance ; for preferment runs in this channel. So that they bear their testimony from avarice or ambition, and flatter the most execrable characters, in order to get forward in the world : this being the grand object to which they readily sacrifice every thing else. The names of those against whom Faithful spoke, show that his crime consisted in protesting, by word and deed, against vices, which the great too often think themselves privileged to commit without censure ; and not in reviling the persons, or misrepresenting the actions of superiors. The former may with great pro- priety be done at all times ; and on some occasions the testimony against sin cannot be too closely applied to the consciences of the guilty, without rfcspect of persons ; but the latter is always unjust and unscriptural. 220 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. thee, let us hear what thou, vile runagate, hast to say. Faith. I say then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath FAITHFUL'S DE- sDokeu, I ucver said ought but this, that FENCE OF HIM- '■ '-' ^^''''- what rule, or laws, or custom, or people, were flat against the word of God, are diametrically opposite to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error, and I am ready here before you to make my recantation. 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 revela- tion, cannot be done but by a human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal life. 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 at- tendants, by this gentlemen named, are more fit for being in hell than in this town and country ; and so the Lord have mercy upon me.* * Faithful's defence is introduced by these lines, as in the foregoing in- stances : — ' 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.' Christians in such circumstances should be more concerned for the honour of God than for their own credit or safety ; and they should take occasion to bear a decided testimony to the truths, commandments and institutions of the Scripture : leaving it to their accusers, judges, or hearers, to determine what sentiments or practices are thus proved to be anti-christian, or what numbers of ' teachers in Israel' are exposed as blind guides. That faith, (by which alone we approach to God, and acceptably worship him,) has no THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 221 Then the judge called to the jury, (who all this while stood by to hear and observe.) Gen- the judge's '' ' SPEECH TO TdE tlemen of the jury, you see this man about •'"''^• whom so great an uproar hath been made in this town ; you liave also heard what these w^orthy gentlemen have witnessed against him ; also you have heard his reply and confession: it lieth now in your breast to hang him, or save his life j but yet I think meet to instruct you in our law. There was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the great, servant to our prince, that, lest those of a con- trary religion should multiply and grow too strong for him, their males should be thrown into the river.'' There was also an act made in the days of Nebuchad- nezzar the great, another of his servants, that who- ever would not fall down and worship his golden im- age, should be thrown into a fiery furnace.'' 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.'' Now, the substance of these laws this rebel hath broken, not only in thought, (which is not to be borne,) but also in word and deed; which must therefore needs be intolerable. b Exod. i. c Dan. iii. d Dan. vi. other object than divine revelation ; nothing done without the express war- rant of Scripture can be profitable to eternal life, vv^hatever may be said foi its expediency; but every thing foisted into religion contrary to that sacred rule must be an abomination. Human faith may please men ; but without a divine faith it is impossible to please God, either in general or any particular action. And, as we can seldom speak against the vile lusts of men, with- out being judged by implication to rail against such as are notoriously ad- dicted to them, we cannot be the followers of Him, ' whom the world hated because ho testified of it that its works were evil,' unless we be willing to risk all consequences in copying his example. 222 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a sup- position, to prevent mischief, no crime being yet appa- rent; but here is a crime apparent. For the second and third, you see he disputeth against our rehgion ; and for the treason that he hath already confessed he deserveth to die the death.* Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-Good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmi- ty, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Im- placable ; who every one ga,ve in his private verdict against him among themselves, and afterwards unani- mously 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. Love-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would be always condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said * A more just and keen satirical description of such legal iniquities, can scarcely be imagined, than that contained in this passage. The statutes and precedents adduced, (with a humorous and well imitated reference to the style and manner, in which charges are commonly given to juries ;) show what patterns persecuting legislators and magistrates choose to copy, and whose kingdom they labour to uphold. Nor can any impartial man deny, that the inference is fair which our author meant the reader to de- duce ; namely, that nominal protestants, enacting laws requiring conformity to their own creeds and forms, and inflicting punishments on such as peace- ably dissent from them, are actually involved in the guilt of these heathen persecutors, and of their anti-christian successors ; even if their doctrine and worship be allowed to be scriptural and spiritual. For these methods only serve to promote hypocrisy, and to expose the conscientious to tlie malice, envy or avarice of the unprincipled. THE CRUELDEATH OF FAITHFDL. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 223 Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging IS too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch tiim out of the way, said Mr. Hate-hght. Then said Mr. Implacable, Might I have all the world given me, I could not be reconciled to him; therefore tmev conclude . TO BRING HIM IN 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 ac- cording 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, * The names of the jury-men and their general and particular verdicts, the cruel execution of Faithful, and tlie happy event of his sufferings, need no comment. It was not indeed the practice of the times in which our au- thor lived, to inflict death on those who were persecuted for conscience' s'tke ; yet very great rigours were used ; the system then adopted, if car- ried t,o its consequences, must have ended in the extermination of all non- conformists from the land ; it was natural to expect still greater cruelty •j-om persons who were found capable of the severities already experienced ; aid without all doubt many actually lost their lives, in one way or other, by tlie persecutions to which they were exposed. All those, who feel a dispo- sition to employ the power of the magistrate against such as differ fi-om them in religious matters, should attentively consider the contemptible and odious picture here delineated with the most entire justice, of the whole race of persecutors, and of their characters, principles, motives, and con- duct : that they may learn to hate and dread such an anti-christian prac- tice, and shun the most remote approaches to it. On the other hand, they who are expo.=ed to nersecution, or in danger of it, should study the char- acter and cond'j^ct ot Faithful, that they may learn to suffer in a Christian CHRISTIAN IS STILL A PRISONER. 224 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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. 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 professed, Unto thy Lord, with whom thou shalt be blest; When faithless ones, with all their vain delights Are crying out under their hellish plights: Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive : For though they killed thee, thou art yet alive. Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not spirit, and to adorn the gospel in the fiery trial. — The following lines are here introduced as before : — ' 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.' * When the believer has done his work, the wrath of man may be per- mitted to expedite his removal to his heavenly inheritance ; but all the malice and power of earth and hell are utterly unavailing to cut off any one till the purposes of God respecting him are accomplished. Thus the Apostles were preserved during Saul's persecution, and Peter was rescued from the hands of Herod. The Lord has various methods of protecting and liberating his servants : sometimes he intimidates their persecutors ; the paroxysm of their fury abates; or they are disheartened by ill success in their efforts to extirpate the hated sect ; the principles and instruments are left to quarrel among themselves ; their cruelties disgust the people, so that they dare not proceed : political interests engage even ungodly princes to promote toleration, and chain up the demon persecution ; or the Lord raises up one of his own servants to authority, that he may be a protector of his church, and disappoint the devices of his enemies. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 225 E ARE MORE MEN OF THE FAIR WILl FOLLOW. THEY OVERTAKE BY-ENDS. forth alone: for there was one whose christian ha* ANOTHER COMPA. name was Hopeful, (being so made 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 an- other rises out of his ashes to be a companion with Christian in his pilprimage. This Hope- theri 1 O O 1 OP TH ful also told Christian, that there were many more of the men in the fair that would take their time, and follow after.* So I saw, that quickly after they were got out of the fair, they overtook one that was going before them, whose name was By-ends : so they said to him. What countryman, sir ? and how- far go you this way ? He told them that he came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial City ; but told them not his name. From Fair-speech ! said Christian : is there any good that lives there ?^ Yes, said By-ends, I hope. Pray, sir, what may I call you ? said Christian. e Prov. xxvi. 25. * ' The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church :' for sufferings properly endured, form the most convincing and useful kind of preaching. The name of Christian's new companion denotes the opinion, which esta- blished believers form at first, of such as begin to profess the gospel in an intelligent manner. The nature of an allegory rendered it impracticable to introduce the new convert, as beginning his pilgrimage from the same place, or going through the same scenes, as Christian had done neither could Faitliful, for the same reason, be represented as passing the river afterward mentioned. But the brotherly covenant, in which Hopeful joined himself with his companion, must be supposed to imply the substance of all that had been spoken of, as necessary to final acceptance. 2D BY-ENDS L TELL HIS NAME, 226 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. By. I am a stranger to you, and you to me : if you OTH TO be going this way, I shall be glad of your company ; if not, I must be con- tent. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, I have heard of; and, as I remember, they say it is a wealthy place. By. Yes, I will assure you that it is ; and I have very many rich kindred there. Chr. Pray, who are your kindred there, if a man may be so bold ? By. Almost the whole town : and, in particular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair- speech, from whose ancestors that town first took its name : also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Any-thing ; and the parson of our parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my mother's own brother by father's side : and, to tell you the truth, I am become a gentle- man of good quality ; yet my great-grandfather was but a waterman, looking one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the same occupation. Chr. Are you a married man ? By. Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, the NDKiN- 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 reliction from those WRERB BV-ENDS ~ others' in nil. of the strictest 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 shppers; we love THE WIFE AND KIN- ""'•-'Jj DRED OF BY-ENDS THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 227 much to walk with him in the streets, 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 * The character of By-ends, and the group that attended him, forms a clear detection and merited condemnation of a large company of false pro- fessors; and is not at all inferior in importance to the preceding severe .satire on open persecutors. When rest is given to the church, hypocrites often multiply more than real Christians. The name of this man, and those of his town and relations, do not merely describe his original character and situation, (as Christian was at first called Graceless of the-City of Destruc- tion ;) but they denote the nature of his religious profession. Believers look back on their former principles and behaviour with shame and abhor- rence ; but hypocrites, when reproved for evident sins, excuse them, because Christ came to save the lost, and because he is merciful to the chief of sin- ners. Christian would readily have granted that ' no good lived' at his na- tive city ; and on that very account he had renounced it with all his old connexions; but By-ends hoped better of Fair-speech, and gloried in his honourable relations there. Yet he was ashamed of his 7iame ; for men are unwilling to allow that they seek nothing more than wordly advantages by religion. The names here selected are most emphatically descriptive of that whole company of professed Christians, who, under various pretences, suppose that ' gain is godliness.' The polite simulation and dissimulation, which some most courtly writers have inculcated, as the summit of good breeding, the perfection of a finished education, and the grand requisite for obtaining consequence in society if introduced into religion, and adopted by professors or preachers of the gospel, in connexion with fashionable accom- plishments and an agreeable address, constitute the most versatile, refined, and insinuating species of hypocrisy that can be imagined : and a man of talents, of any occupation or profession, may render it very subservient to his interests ; by insuring the patronage or custom of those to whom he at- taches himself, without giving much umbrage to the world, which may in- deed despise such a character, but will not deem him worthy of hatred. He may assume any of the names here provided for him, as may best suit his line in life ; and may shape his course, in subserviency to his grand con- cern, with considerable latitude ; provided he has prudence enough to keep clear of scandalous vices : he will not be long in learning the beneficial art of using two tongues with one mouth, and of looking one way and rowing another, and perhaps he may improve his fortune by an honourable alliance, with some branch of the ancient family of the Feignings. The grand dif- ference betwixt this whole tribe, and the body of true Christians, consists in 228 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. By-ends, of Fair-Speech ; and if it be he, we have as very a knave in our company as dvvelleth in all tiiese parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask him; methinks he should not be ashamed of his name. So Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk as if you knew something more than all the world doth; and, if I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you: is not your name Mr. By-ends, of Fair-speech ?* By. This is not my name, but indeed it is a nick- name that is given me by some that cannot abide me, and I must be content to bear it as a reproach, as other good men have borne theirs before me, Chr. But did you never give an occasion to men to call you by this name ? By. Never, never ! The worst that ever I did to give them an occasion to give me this name was, that I had always the luck to jump in my judgment with the present way of the times, whatever it was, and my chance was to get thereby : but if things are thus cast upon me, let me count them these two things : Christians seek the salvation of their souls, and at the same time aim to glorify God, and be useful to their neighbours; but hypo- crites profess to be religious in order to obtain friends, patrons, customers, or applause : those follow the Lord habitually, whatever tribulations arise be- cause of the word ; but these conceal or deny their profession, when, instead of gaining by it, they are exposed to reproach or persecution. ''' The people of the world, who avow their real character, know how to serve Mammon by neglecting and despising God and religion ; and the dis- ciples of Christ can serve God by renouncing the world and its friendship: but time-servers talk as if they had found out the secret of uniting these two discordant interests, and thus of ' knowing something more than all the world.' This is the most prominent feature in this group of portraits, which in other resoects exhibits great dissimilarities, and contains the faces of per- sons belonging to every division of professed Christians on earth. HOWBy-ENDS GOT BIS NAME. ES TO KEEP COMPANY WITH CHRISTIAN. THE PILGRIIVrS PROGRESS. 229 a blessing; but let not the malicious load me,,, there- fore, 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 will- ing we should think it doth. By. Well, if you will thus imagine, I camiot help it; you shall find me a fair company-keeper, he desir if you will still admit me your associate. Chr. If you will go with us, you must go against wind and tide; the which, I perceive, is against your opinion. You must also own Religion in his rags, as well as when in his silver slippers ; and stand by him, too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. By. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith ; leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. Chr. Not a step farther, unless you will do, in what I propound, as we. Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old prin- ciples, 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 my- self, until some overtake me that will be glad of m} company.* * When hypocrites are charged with their double-dealing and obvious crimes, they commonly set it down to the account of persecution, and class themselves with that blessed company, of whom ' all manner of evil is spoken falsely, for the name of Christ :' as if there were no difference be- tween suffering as a Christian, and being a scandal to the very name of Christianity ! Thus they endeavour to quiet their minds, and keep up their credit ; deeming themselves at the same time very prudent and fortunate, in shifting about so as to avoid the cross, and secure their temporal interests. The Apostle says concerning these men, ' from such turn away,' and the decided manner in which Christian warns By-ends, and renounces his com- BV-ENDS AND THEY PART. HE HAS NEW COMPANIONS. 230 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopelui forsook him, and kept their distance before him ; but one of them, looking back, saw three men following Mr. By-ends ; and behold, as they came up with him, he made them a very low congee j 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 for- merly been acquainted with, for in their minority they were schoolfellows, and were taught by one Mr. Gripe- man, a schoolmaster in Love-gain, which is a market- town in the county of Coveting, in the north. This schoolmaster taught them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion ; and these four gentlemen had at- tained much of the art of their master, so that they could each of them have kept such a school themselves. Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, Mr. Money-love said to Mr. By-ends, Who are they upon the road before us ? for Christian and Hope- ful were yet within view. ■ Bv-ENDs' CHAR- By. TliCY arc a couple of far country- ACTER OF THE ./I •/ PILGRIMS. men, that, after their mode, are going on pilgrimage. Money. Alas ! why did they not stay, that we might have had their good company ? for they, and we, and you, sir, I hope, are all going on pilgrimage.* pany, though perhaps too plain to be either approved or imitated in thia courtly candid age, is certainly warranted and required by the Holy Scriptures. * It might have been supposed that the persons, here introduced, were settled inhabitants of the Town of Vanity, or the City of Destruction : but indeed they professed themselves Pilgrims, and desired during the sun-shine to associate with Pilgrifns ; provided they would allow them, to hold the THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 231 By. We are so indeed ; but the men before us are so rigid, and love so much their own notions, and do also so hghtly 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. That's bad : but we read of some that are world, love money, and save all, whatever became of faith and holiness, of honesty, piety, truth, and charity ! — Covetousness, whether it consist in ra- paciously trying to get money, to hoard or to lavish, in purchasing conse- quence, power, or pleasure, or in supporting magnificence and the pride of life ; or in parsimony as to the ordinary proportion of expenditure ; or in tenacity, when duty requires a man to part with it; is a vice not so easily defined as many others. At the same time it enables a man, in various ways, to reward those who can be induced to connive at it, and to render it dan- gerous to oppose him : so that it is not wonderful that it generally finds more quarter, even among religious persons, than other vices, which are not marked with so black a brand in the Holy Scriptures. Too many professing to be the disciples of Christ, 'bless the covetous, whom God abhorreth,' and speak to them as if they were doubtless true Christians ; because of their steadiness in the profession of a doctrinal system, and a mode of wor- ship ; attended by morality, where money is not concerned and scandal might be incurred ; and a narrow disproportionate contribution from their abundance, to support the interest of a society or a party. Thus the ' vile person is called liberal, and the churl is said to be bountiful :' and the idol- atry of worshipping money has seldom been execrated equally with that of them, ' whose god is their belly ;' unless when so enormous as to become a kind of insanity. — The most frugal support of religious worship, with the most disinterested pastors and managers, is attended with an expense that the poor of the flock are utterly unable to defray : by this opening, Hold-the- world and Money-love frequently obtain admission, and acquire undue influ- ence among Pilgrims. And when the eff'ect of remaining selfishness in the hearts of true believers, insinuating itself under the specious plea of pru- dence and necessity, and the ill consequences of specious hypocrites asso- ciating with them, are duly considered ; with the censure that must fall upon a few obscure individuals who attempt to stem the torrent; it will appear evident that the rich, and they who are growing rich have more need of self-examination and jealousy over their own hearts than any other persons ; because they will be less plainly warned and reproved, in public and private, than their inferiors. 232 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. "righteous over-much;"* and such men's rigidnes& prevails with them to judge and condemn all but them- selves. But I pray, what, and how many, were the things wherein you differed ? By. Why, they, after their headstrong manner, con- clude, that it is duty to rush on their journey all wea- thers ; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They are for hazarding all for God at a clap, and I am for taking all advantages to secure my life and estate. They are for holding their notions, though all other men be against them ; but I am for religion in what, and so far as, the times and my safety will bear it. They are for religion when in rags and contempt ; but I am for him when he walks in his silver slippers, in the sunshine, and with applause. HoLD-THE-woRLD. Aye, and hold you there still, good Mr. By-ends : for, for my part, I can count him but a fool, that, having the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it. Let us be wise as serpents ; it is best to make hay while the sun shines : you see how the bee lieth still in winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure. God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine : if they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be con- tent to take fair weather along with us. For my part, I like that religion best that will stand with the se- * This expression of Solomon was probably intended to caution us against excessive zeal for some detached parts of religion to tiie neglect of others. or against superstitious austerities and enthusiastical delusions, or any ex- tremes, which always lead men off from vital godliness: or, as some tliink, it is the objection of an opponent, which he afterward answers: but it is the constant plea of those, who neglect the most essential duties of their place and station, to avoid the cross, and preserve their worldly interests; and- thus ' they wrest the Scriptures to their own destruction,' THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 233 curity 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 nave described them.* Save. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and therefore there needs no more words about it. Money. No, there needs no more words about this matter indeed; for he that believes neither scripture nor reason, (and you see we have both on our side,) neither knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety. By. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage ; and, for our better diversion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question : Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, &zc. 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, * This dialogue is not in the least more absurd and selfish, than the dis- course of many who attend on the preacliing of the gospel, and expect lo be thought believers. They connect ' the wisdom of the serpent' with his craft and malice, not with the harmlessness of the dove: if worldly lucre be the honey, tJiey imitate the bee, and only attend to religion when they can gain by it : they cut and shape their creed and conduct to suit the times, and to please those among whom they live : they determine to keep what they have at any rate, and to get more, if it can be done without open scan- dal ; never seriously recollecting that they are mere stewards of providential advantages, of which a strict account must at last be given ; and, instead of willingly renouncing or expending them, for the Lord's sake, when his providence or commandment requires it, they determine to hoard them up for themselves and families, or spend them in worldly indulgence; and then quote and pervert scripture to varnish over this base idolatry. 2 E 234 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. he becomes extraordinary zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with before, — m.n.y he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right honest man ? • Money. I see the bottom of your question; and, with these gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavour to shape you an answer. And, first, to speak to your question, as it concerneth a minister himself. Suppose a minister, a worthy man, possessed but of a very small benefice, and has in his eye a greater, more fat and plump by far: he has also now an opportunity of getting it, yet so as by being more studious, by preaching more frequently and zealously, and, because the temper of the people requires it, by altering of some of his principles : for my part, I see no reason why a man may not do this, provided he has a call, 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, &c., and so makes him a better man, yea, makes him better im- prove his parts ; which is according to the mind of God. 3. Now, as for his complying with the temper of his people, by deserting, to serve them, some of his prin- ciples, this argueth, (1.) that he is of a self-denying temper, (2.) of a sweet and winning deportment ; and (3.) so more fit for the ministerial function. 4. I conclude, then, that a minister that changes a small for a great, should not, for so doing, be judged THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 235 as covetous; but rather, since he is improved in his parts and industry thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, and the opportunity put into his hand to do good.* And now to the second part of the question, which concerns the tradesman you mentioned : suppose such an one to have but a poor employ in the world, but, by becoming religious, he may mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, or more and far better customers to his shop. For my part, I see no reason but this may be lawfully done. For why ? 1. To become religious is a virtue, by what means soever a man becomes so. 2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more cus- tom to my shop. 3. Besides, the man that gets these by becoming re- ligious, 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 pro- fitable design. * There is a fund of satirical humour in the supposed case here very gravely stated; and if the author, in his accurate observations on mankind, selected his example from among the mercenaries that are the scandal of the established church, her most faithful friends will not greatly resent thig conduct of a dissenter. The worthy clergyman seeks first (not ' the king- dom of God and his righteousness,' or the glory of God in the salvation of souls, but) a rich benefice : to attain this primary object, means must be used; and hypocritical pretensions to diligence, zeal, piety, with some change of doctrine, merely to please men, seem most likely to succeed , and so this most base, prevaricating, selfish and ungodly plan is adopted ! In how many thousand of instances has this been an awful reality'? How often has it been pleaded for, as prudent and laudable, by men, not only pre- tending to common honesty and sincerity, but calling themselves the disci* pies of Jesus Christ ! 236 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. This answer, thus made by Mr. Money-love to Mr. By-ends' question, was highly applauded by them all : wherefore they concluded, upon the whole, that it was most wholesome and advantageous. And because, as they thought, no man was able to contradict it, and because Christian and Hopeful were yet within call, they jointly agreed to assault them with the question as soon as they overtook them; and the rather, be- cause they had opposed Mr. By-ends before. So they called after them, and they stopped and stood still till they came up to them: but they concluded, as they went, that not Mr. By-ends, but old Mr. Hold-the-world, should propound the question to them ; because, as they supposed, their answer to him would be without the remainder of that heat that was kindled betwixt Mr. By-ends and them, at their parting a little before. So they came up to each other, and, after a short salutation, Mr. Hold-the-world propounded the question to Christian and his fellow, and bid them to answer it, if they could. Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may answer ten thousand such questions. For if it be un- lawful to follow Christ for loaves, as it is, John vi. 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 way for them to come at them, but by being circumcised ; they say to their companions, " If every male of us be circumcised, as they are cir- cumcised, shall not their cattle and their substance. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 237 and every beast of theirs, be ours ?" Their daughters and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their rehgion the stalking-horse they made use of to come at them. Read the whole story. Genesis xxxiv. 20—24. 2. The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this reli- gion : long prayers were their pretence ; but to get widows' houses was their intent, and greater damnation was from God their judgment.'" 3. Judas the devil was also of this religion : he was religious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was put therein ; but he was lost, cast away, and the very son of perdition. 4. Simon the wizard was of this religion too : for he would have had the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money therewith; and his sentence from Peter's mouth was according.^ 5- Neither will it out of my mind, but that that man that takes up religion for the world, will throw away religion for the world ; for so surely as Judas designed the world in becoming religious, so surely did he also sell religion and his Master for the same. To answer the question therefore affirmatively, as I perceive you have done, and to accept of, as authentic, such answer, is both heathenish, hypocritical, and devilish ; and your reward will be according to your works. Then they stood staring one upon another, but had not wherewith to answer Christian. Hopeful also ap- proved of the soundness of Christian's answer; so there was a great silence among them. Mr. By-ends and his company also staggered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful might outgo them. Then said f Luke XX. 46, 47. g Acts. viii. 18—23, THE EASE THAT PILGRIMS HAVE IS BOT LITTLE IN THIS WORLD. 238 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Christian to his fellow, If these men cannot stand be- fore 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 nar- row, so they were quickly got over it. Now, at the further side of that plain was a little hill, called Lucre, and in that hill a silver mine, which some of them that had formerly gone that way, because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to see ; but going too near the LucREHiLL, A brim of the pit, the ground, being de- DANGEROUSHILL. -^r ^ 1 ^1 1 -^ ^ ^ 1 ceitiul under them, broke, and they were slain : some also had been maimed there, and * God permits Satan to bait his own hook with some worldly advantage, in order to induce men to renounce their profession, expose their hypocrisy, or disgrace the gospel : and they (poor deluded mortals !) call it ' an open- ing of Providence.' The Lord indeed puts the object in their way, if they will break his commandments in order to seize upon it : but he does this in order to prove them, and to show whether they most love liim or their worldly interests ; and it is the devil that tempts them to seize the advan- tage by sinful compliances or hypocritical pretences that he may ' take them captive at his will.' The arguments here adduced, by an admirable imita- tion of the pleas often used on such occasions, are only valid on the supposi- tion that religion is a mere external appearance, and has nothing to do with the state of the heart and affections ; and in short, that hypocrisy and piety are words precisely of the same meaning. Upon the whole, the answer of Christian, though somewhat rough, is so apposite and conclusive, that it is sufficient to fortify every honest and attentive mind against all the argu- ments, which the whole tribe of time-serving professors of Christianity, ever did, or ever can adduce, in support of their ingenious schemes and as- siduous efforts to reconcile religion with covetousness and love of the world, or to render them subservient to their secular interests. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 239 could not to their dying day be their own men again.* Then I saw in my dream, that a httle off the road, over-against the silver mine, stood Demas (gentleman-like) to call passengers to DEMAS AT THE HILL LUCRE. * When the church enjoys outward peace and prosperity (which has been generally but for a transient season,) they, who profess the gospel, are peculiarly exposed to the temptation of seeking worldly riches and distinc- tions which at other times were placed at such a distance as to lose most of their attractive influence ; and many in such circumstances are more discon- certed and disposed to murmur, if excluded from sharing these idolized prizes, than Christians appear to have been, under the most cruel persecutions. But the Hill Lucre, with the silver mine, is a little out of the Pilgrim's path, even in times of the greatest outward rest and security : and while those ' who viill be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hateful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition :' others, forgetting that ' the love of money is the root of all evil, havinsr coveted after it, have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows.' 240 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. come and see ; who said to Christian and his fellow, ch/isti'^a^''''' AND Ho! turn aside hither, and I will show TO HIM. you a thing. Chr. What thing is so deserving as to turn us out of the way to see it ? * We know not in what way the love of this present world influenced Demas to forsake St. Paul : and it is not agreed whether he afterward re- pented, or whether he was finally an apostate : yet our author, is warranted by the general opinion in thus using his name, and afterward joining it with those of Gehazi, Judas, and others, who perished by tbat idolatry. The love of money does not always spring from a desire of covetously hoarding it: but often from a vain affectation of gentility which is emphatically implied by the epithet gentleman-like, bestowed on Demas. The connexions that professors form in a day of ease and prosperity, and the example of the world around them, and even that of numbers who would be thought to love the gospel, seduce them insensibly into a style of living that they cannot afford, in order to avoid the imputation of being sordid and singular. An increasing family insures additional expenses, and children genteelly educated naturally expect to be provided for accordingly. Thus debts are contracted and grad- ually accumulate : it is neither so easy nor reputable to retrench, as it was to launch out: and numerous tempters induce men thus circumstanced to turn aside to the Hill Lucre; that is, to leave the direct path of probity and piety, that they may obtain supplies to their urgent and clamorous neces- sities. Young persons when they first set out in life, often lay the founda- tion for innumerable evils, by vainly emulating the expensive style of those in the same line of business, or tlie same rank in the community, who are enabled to support such expenses, either by extensive dealings or unjusti- fiable means. Many are the bankruptcies, which originate from this mis- taken conduct: and besides this, it is often found, that fair profits are inade- quate to uphold the appearance which was at first needlessly assumed ; so that necessity is pleaded for engaging in those branches of trade, or seizing on those emoluments, which the conduct of worldly people screens from total scandal, but which are evidently contrary to the word of God, and the plain rule of exact truth and rectitude ; and which render their consciences very uneasy. But who can bear the mortification of owning himself poorer than he was thought to be 1 Who dare risk the consequences of being suspected to be insolvent] In these ensnaring circumstances, professed Christians, if not powerfully, influenced by religious principles, will be almost sure to embrace Demas's invitation, along with By-ends, Money-love, and Save-all ; and if they be 'not drowned in destruction and perdition,' will 'fall into temptation and a snare, and pierce themselves through with many sorrows.' THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 241 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. Then said Hopeful, Let us go see. Not I, said Christian, I have heard of this place It therefore is incumbent on every one, well to consider, that it is as unjust to contract debts for superfluous indulgences, or to obtain credit by false appearances of affluence, as it is to defraud by any other imposition : and that this kind of dishonesty makes way for innumerable temptations to more disgraceful species of the same crime : not to speak of its absolute inconsis- tency with piety and charity. But none are in this respect so much exposed as ministers and their fam- ilies, when, having no private fortune, they are situated among the affluent and genteel : and by yielding to this temptation, they are often incapacitated from paying their debts with punctuality : they are induced to degrade their office by stooping to unsuitable methods of extricating themselves out of difficulties, from which strict frugality would have preserved them, and by laying themselves under obligations to such men as are capable of abusing their purchased superiority ; and, above all, they are generally led to place their children in situations and connexions highly unfavourable to the inter- ests of their souls, in order to procure them a genteel provision. If we form our judgment on this subject from the Holy Scriptures, we shall not think of finding the true ministers of Christ among the higher classes in the com- munity, in matters of external appearance or indulgence. That informa- tion and learning which many of them have the opportimity of acquiring, may render them acceptable company to the affluent, especially to such as love them for their work's sake; and even the exercise of Christian tempers will improve the urbanity acquired by a liberal education, where faithfulness is not concerned. But if a minister thinks, that the attention of the great or noble requires him to copy their expensive style of living, he grievously mistakes the matter. For this will generally forfeit the opinion before en- tertained of his good sense and regard to propriety : and his official declara- tions, concerning the vanity of earthly things, and the Christian's indiffer- ence to them, will be suspected of insincerity ; while ii s observed, that he conforms to the world, as far or even farther than his circumstances will admit: and thus respect will often be changed into disgust. Nay, indeed, the superior orders in society do not choose to be too closely copied, in those things which they deem their exclusive privileges ; especially by one who, (they must think,) secretly depends on them to defray the expense of the intrusive competition. The consistent minister of Christ will certainly de- sire to avoid every thing mean and sordid, and to retrench in every other 2F 242 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. before now, and how many have there HOPEFUL TEMPT- '' chriI^iaTholds 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 ? Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those that are careless. But withal he blushed as he spake. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a step, but still keep on our way.* way rather than exhibit the appearance of penury : but, provided he and his family can maintain a decent simplicity, and the credit of punctuality in his payments, he will not think of aspiring any higher. If, in order to do this, he be compelled to exercise considerable self-denial, he will think little of it, while he looks more to Jesus and his Apostles, than to the few of a superior rank who profess the gospel : and could he afford something genteel and fashionable, he would deem it more desirable to devote a larger portion to pious and charitable uses, than to squander it in vain affectation. Perhaps Satan never carried a more important point, within the visible church, than when the opinion was adopted, that the clergy were gentlemen by profes- sion ; and when he led them to infer from it, that they and their families ought to live in a genteel and fashionable style. As the body of the clergy have been mostly but slenderly provided for, when they were thus taught to imitate the appearance of the affluent, the most effectual step was taken to reduce them to abject dependence ; to convert them into parasites and flatterers ; to render them very indulgent to the vices of the rich and great; or even to tempt them to become the instruments of accomplishing their ambitious and licentious designs ; and no small part of the selfishness and artifices of the clergy, which are now made a pretext for abolishing the order, and even for renouncing Christianity, have in fact, originated from this fatal mistake. In proportion as the same principle is adopted by min- isters of any description, similar effects will follow ; and a degree of depen- dence, inconsistent with unembarrassed faithfulness, must be the consequence: nor can we in all cases, and without respect of persons, ' declare the whole counsel of God,' unless we be willing, if required, to be, and to appear as, the poor followers of Him ' who had not where to lay his head.' * Inexperienced believers are very liable to be seduced by the example and persuasions of hypocrites ; and to deviate from the direct path, in order THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 243 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. Then Demas called again, saying. But will you not come over and see ? Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, thou art an enemy to the ri^ht ways of christian '' O ./ ROUNDETH UP the Lord of this way, and hast been "^mas. already condemned for thine own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's judges;'' 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. 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-grand- father, and Judas your father, and you have trod in their steps. It is but a devilish prank that thou usest : thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no better reward.' Assure thyself, that when we come h 2 Tim. iv. 10. i 2 Kings v. 20—27. Matt. xxvi. 14, 15. xxvii. 3^5. to obtain worldly advantages, by means that many men deem fair and hon curable. In this case the counsel and warnings of an experienced com- panion are of the greatest moment. BY-ENDS GOES OVER TO DEMA.S. 244 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. to the King, we will tell him 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 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 trans- formed into the shape of a pillar. Here, therefore, they stood looking and looking upon it, but could not for a time tell what they should make thereof. At last Hopeful espied, written above, upon the head thereof, a writing in an unusual hand ; but he, being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) to see if he could pick out the meaning : so he came, and after a little laying of the 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,N that that was the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was turned, for her looking back with a covetous THEY SEE A STRANGE MONU- MENT. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 245 heart, when she was going from Sodom for safety.'' Which sudden and amazing sight gave them occasion for this discourse. Chr. Ah, my brother ! this is a seasonable sight : it came opportunely to us after the invitation which Demas gave us to come over to view the hill Lucre; and had we gone over, as he desired us, and as thou wast inclined to do, my brother, we had, for aught I know, been made like this woman, a spectacle for those that shall come after to behold. Hope. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am not now as Lot's wife ; for wherein was the difference betwixt her sin and mine ? She only looked back, and I had a desire to go see : let grace be adored, and let me be ashamed that ever such a thing should be in mine heart. Chr. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help 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 ex- ample to others to beware.' But, above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman but for looking behind her after, (for we read not that she stepped one foot out of the k Gen. six. 26. 1 Num. xxvi. 9, 10. 246 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 exceed- ingly," because they were sinners " befope the Lord,'' that is, in his eye-sight, and notwithstanding the kind- nesses that he had showed them ; for the land of Sodom was now hke 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 m Gen. xiii. 10, 13. * It is indeed most wonderful that men, who profess to believe the Bible, can so confidently attempt to reconcile the love of the world with the sfer- vice of God ; when the instructions, warnings and examples in the sacred volume, which show the fatal consequences of such endeavours, are so nu- merous, express, and affecting ! If Lot's wife, who merely hankered after the possessions she had left behind in Sodom, and looked back with a design of returning, was made a monument of the Lord's vengeance, and a warning to all future ages ; what will be the doom of those professed Christians, who habitually prefer worldly gain, or the vain pomp and indulgence that may be purchased with it, to the honour of Christ, and obedience to his most rea- sonable commandments? The true cause of this infatuation is here as- signed : they ' do not lift up their eyes ;' and it is to be feared most of them never will, before ' they lift them up in hell, being in torment' THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 247 caution them to the contrary, must be partakers of severest judgments. Hope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth ; but what a mercy is it, that neither thou, but especially I, am not made myself this example ! This ministereth oc- casion 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 a riveh. river of God ;" but John, " the river of the water of life."" Now, their way lay just upon the bank of this river: here, therefore. Christian and his companion walked with great delight; they drank also of the water of the river, which was pleasant and enlivening to their weary spirits. Besides, on the banks of this river, on either side, were green trees trees by the ' ' O RIVER. with all manner of fruit ; and the leaves they ate to prevent surfeits, and other trees.' 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, *hey ga- thered again of the fruit of the trees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then lay down again to sleep. Thus they did several days and nights. Then they sang — Behold ye how these crystal streams do glide, To comfort pilgrims by the high-way side. The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell. Yield dainties for them ; and he who can tell What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these, trees do yield, Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field. n Psalm xlvi. 4. Ezek. xlvii. Rev. xxii. 1. o Psalm sxjii. Isa. xiv. 30. THE fruit and LEAVES OF THE A MEADOW, IN WHICH THEV LIE TO SLEEP. 248 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 jour- neyed far, but the river and the way for a time parted, at which they were not a httle 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 dis- couraged because of the way.^ Wherefore, still as they went on, they wished for a better way. Now, a p Num. xxi. 4. * When Abraham had given place to his nephew Lot, and receded from his interest for the credit of his religion, he was immediately favoured with a most encouraging vision. Thus the Pilgrims, having been enabled to re- sist the temptations to turn aside for lucre, were indulged with more abun- dant spiritual consolations. The Holy Spirit, the inexhaustible source of life, light, holiness and joy, is represented by the ' River of God ;' even that ' River of the water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and the Lamb.' All believers partake of his sacred influ- ences, which prepare the soul for heavenly felicity, and are earnests and pledges of it : but there are seasons when he communicates his holy com- forts in larger measure ; when the Christian sees such glory in the salva- tion of Christ; so clearly ascertains his interest in it; and realizes his obli- gations and privileges, with such lively exercises of adoring love, gratitude and joy, that he is raised above his darkness and difficulties ; enjoys sweet communion with God ; forgets, for the moment, the pain of former conflicts and the prospect of future trials ; finds his inbred corruptions reduced to a state of subjection, and his maladies healed by lively exercises of faith in the divine Saviour ; and anticipates with unspeakable delight the glory that shall be revealed. Then communion with humble believers, (the lilies that adorn the banks of the river,) is very pleasant ; and the soul's rest and sat- isfaction in God and his service are safe, and his calm confidence is well grounded ; being widely difl^erent from every species of carnal security. Had this River been intended as the emblem of pardon, justification and adoption, as some understand the passage, it would not have been tlius oc- casionally introduced ; for these belong to believers at all times, witliout any interruption or variation ; but the more abundant consolations of the Spirit are not vouchsafed in the same manner, and on them the actual enjoyment of our privileges in a great measure depends. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 249 little before them, there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over by path meadow into it, and that meadow is called By-path meadow. Then said Christian to his fellow, If this meadow lieth along by our way-side, let us go over into it. Then he went to the stile to see, and behold a one temptation MAKES WAY KOR path lay along by the way on the other another. side of the fence. 'Tis according to my wish, said Christian; here is the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let us go over.* Hope. But, how if this path should lead us out of the way ? * Believers, even when in the path of duty, walking by faith, and sup- ported by the sanctifying influences of the Spirit, may be abridged of those holy consolations which they have experienced : and if this trial be accom- panied with temporal losses, poverty, sickness, the unkindness of friends or ill usage from the world, they may be greatly discouraged ; and Satan may have a special advantage in tempting them to discontent, distrust, envy or coveting. Thus, being more disposed to ' wish for a better way,' than to oray earnestly for an increase of faith and patience, they are tempted to look out for some method of declining the cross, or shifting the diSiculty which wearies them : nor will it be long before some expedient for a tempo- rary relief will be suggested. The path of duty being rough, a by-path is discovered which seems to lead the same way : but, if they will thus turn aside, though they need not break through a hedge, they must go over a stile. The commandments of God mark out the path of holiness and safety : but a deviation from the exact strictness of them may sometimes be plaus- ible, and circumstances may seem to invite to it. Men imagine some provi- dential interposition, giving ease to the weary ; and they tliink that the pre- cept may be interpreted with some latitude, that prudence should be exer- cised, and that scrupulousness about little things is a mark of legality or superstition. Thus by 'leaning to their own understandings,' and 'trusting in their own hearts,' instead of asking counsel of the Lord, they hearken to the tempter. Nor is it uncommon for Christians of deeper experience, and more established reputation to mislead their juniors, by turning aside from the direct line of obedience. For the Lord leaves them to' themselves, to repress their self-confidence, and keep them entirely dependent on him ; and thus teaches young converts to follow no man further than he follows Christ. 2G STRONG CHRIS TIA.NS MAY L WEAK ONES OP THE WAY. 250 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. That is not likely, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by the way-side ? So Hopeful, o„° 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 be- fore them, espied a man walking as they did, and his name was Vain-Confidence : so they called after him, SEE WHAT IT IS and asked him whither that way led. He f^°^{JJ{,'^'^^"= said. To the Celestial Gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so ? by this you may see we are right. So they followed, and he went before them. But behold the night came on, and it grew very dark ; so that they that went behind lost the sight of him that went before.* He therefore that went before, (Vain-Confidence by APiT TocATCH Hamc,) not seeing the way before him, ous"" ^J/'^'^-°''°^^- fgii jj^^Q Q^ deep pit,"" which was on pur- pose there made by the Prince of those grounds, to q Tsa. ix. 16. * It would not be politic in Satan to tempt believers at first to flagrant crimes at which their hearts revolt : and therefore he endeavours to draw them aside, under various pretences, into such plausible deviations as seem to be of nc bad repute or material consequence. But every wrong step makes way for further temptations, and serves to render other sins appa- rently necessary : and if it be a deliberate violation of the least precept in the smallest instance, from carnal motives, it involves such self-will, unbe- lief, ingratitude, and worldly idolatry, as will most certainly expose the be- liever to sharp rebukes and painful corrections. The example also of vain pretenders to religion, of whom perhaps, at the first interview, too favoura- ble an opinion has been formed, helps to increase the confidence of him who has departed from the path of obedience : for these men often express the strongest assurance, and venture to violate the precepts of Christ, under pretence of honouring his free-grace, and knowing their liberty and priv- ilege! But darkness must soon envelope all who follow such guides, and the most extreme distress and danger are directly in the way they take. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 251 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 Lo answer, only they heard a groaning. Then said Hopeful, Where are we now ? Then was his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had led him out of the way: and now it began to rain, and thunder, and lighten in a most dreadful manner, and the water rose amain.t Then Hopeful groaned in himself, say- reasoning be- A C ' •' TVVEENCHRIS- ing, Oh, that I had kept on my way ! Hl"^ "^° "°'"^- Chr. Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of the way ? Hope. I was afraid on't at the very first, and there- fore gave you that gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, but that you are older than I. Chr. Good brother, be not offended ; I am sorry I have brought thee out of the way, and christian's re- that I have put thee into such imminent LEAm^o his bro. ■^ THER OUT OF THE danger: pray, my brother, forgive me; ^^^^• I did not do it of an evil intent. Hope. Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thei , and believe, too, that this shall be for our good. * This circumstance may represent the salutary effects which are some- times produced on offending believers, by the awful death of some vain- glorious hypocrite, to whom they have given too much attention. The Lord, however, will in one way or other deliver his servants from the tem- porary prevalence of vain-confidence; while presumptuous transgressors perish in the pit of darkness and despair. t The holy law condemns every transgression : when the Christian, therefore, has fallen into wilful sin, he is often led to fear that his faith is dead, that he is still under the law, and that his person as well as his con- duct is liable to its righteous condemnation. Thus he is brought back again, as it were, to the tempest, thunder and lightning of mount Sinai. 252 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. I am glad I have with me a merciful brother . but we must not stand here; let us try to go back again. Hope. But, good brother, let me go before. Chr. No, if you please, let me go first, that, if there be any danger, I may be first therein; because by my means we are both gone out of the way.* No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first ; for, your mind being troubled may lead you out of the way again. — Then, for their encouragement, they heard the voice of one saying, "Let thine heart be towards the highway; even the way that thou wentest, turn THEY ARE IN DAN- again.'"" But by this time the waters GER OFDROWNING '-' AS THEY GO BACK. ^fy■QYQ gFcatly riscu, 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.f r Jer. xsxi. 21. * This dialogue is very natural and instructive, and exhibits that spirit of mutual tenderness, forbearance, and sympathy, which becomes Christians in such perplexing circumstances. They, who have misled others into sin, should not only ask forgiveness of God, but of them also ; and they who have been drawn aside by the example and persuasion of their brethren, should be careful not to upbraid or discourage them, when they become sensible of their fault. f When such as have turned aside are called upon in Scripture to return to God and his ways, the exhortation implies a promise of acceptance to all wlio comply with it, and may be considered as immediately addressed to every one with whose character and situation it corresponds. It might be thought, indeed, that an experienced believer, when convinced of any sin, would find little difficulty in returning to his duty and recovering his peace. But a deliberate transgression, however trivial it might seem at the mo- ment, appears upon the retrospect to be an act of most ungrateful and ag- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 253 Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile that night. Wherefore at last, light- ing under a little shelter, they sat down there till the day-break : but being weary they fell asleep. Now, there was, not far from the THEY SLEEP IN THE GROITNDS OF GIANT BESI'AIE. gravated rebellion ; so that it brings such darkness upon the soul, and guilt on the conscience, as frequently causes a man to suspect that all his religion has been a delusion. And, when he would attempt to set out anew, it oc- curs to him, that if all his past endeavours and expectations, for many years, have been frustrated, he can entertain little hope of better success here- after ; as he knows not how to use other means, or greater earnestness, than he has already employed, as he fears, to no purpose. Nor will Satan ever fail, in these circumstances, to pour in such suggestions as may overwhelm the soul with an apprehension that the case is hopeless, and God inexorable. The believer will not, indeed, be prevailed upon by these discouragements wholly to neglect all attempts to recover his ground : but he often resem- bles a man who is groping in the dark and cannot find his way, or who is passing through a deep and rapid stream, and struggling hard to keep his head above water. 254 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. place where they lay, a castle, called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair ; and it was in his grounds they now were sleeping. Wherefore he getting up in the morning early, and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice he bid them awake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his grounds. They told him they were pilgrims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the giant, You have this night tres- HE FINDS THEM IN ~ ~ clRRrETTHEM^To passcd OH oic by trampling in, and lying DOUBTINGC ASTLE. , 1 1 r* on my grounds, and therefore you must go along with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault. The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spirits of these two men.* Here then they lay from Wednesday THE ORIEVOUS- NESS OF THEIR IM- PRISONMENT. * When David had fallen into the depths of sin and distress, he cried most earnestly to the Lord ; and Jonah did the same in the fish's belly. Extraordinary cases require singular diligence; even as greater exertion is necessary to get out of a pit than to walk upon level ground. When be- lievers, therefore, have brought themselves, by transgressions, into great terror and anguish of conscience, it is foolish to expect that God will 're- store to them the joy of his salvation,' till they have made the most unre- served confessions of their guilt : humbly deprecated his deserved wrath in persevering prayer, and used peculiar diligence in every thing that accom- panies repentance and faith in Christ ; and tends to greater watchfulness, circumspection, and self-denial. But they often seek relief in a more com- pendious way : and, as they do not wholly omit their customary religious exercises, or vindicate and repeat their transgressions ; they endeavour to quiet themselves by general notions of the mercy of God through Jesus Christ, and the security of the new covenant ; and the storm in their con- sciences subsiding, they ' find a little shelter,' and ' wait for a more conve- nient opportunity' of recovering their former life and vigour in religion, [ndeed the very circumstances which should excite us to peculiar earnest- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 255 morning till Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or light, or any to ask how they did : they were, therefore, here in evil case, and were far from friends and acquaintance.^ Now in this place s Psalm Ixxxviii. 18. ness, tend, through the depravity of our nature, to blind and stupefy the heart: Peter and the other disciples 'slept for sorrow,' when they were more especially required ' to watch and pray, that they might not enter into temptation.' Such repeated sins and mistakes bring believers into deep distress. Growing more and more heartless in religion, and insensible in a most perilous situation, they are led habitually to infer that they are hypocrites ; that the encouragements of Scripture belong not to them ; that prayer itself will be of no use to them : and, when they are at length brought to reflection, they are taken prisoners by Despair, and shut up in Doubting Castle. This case should be carefully distinguished from Chris- tian's terrors in the City of Destruction, which induced him to 'flee from the wrath to come ;' from the Slough of Despond, into whicli he fell when diligently seeking salvation; from the burden he carried to the cross; from his conflict with Apollyon, and his troubles in the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; and even from the terrors that seized him and Hopeful in By-path- meadow, which would have speedily terminated if they had not slept on forbidden ground, and stopped short of the refuge the Lord hath provided. Despair, like a tremendous giant, will at last seize on the souls Oi all unbe- lievers : and when Christians conclude, from some aggravated and pertuia- cious misconduct, that they belong to that company, even their acquaintance with the Scripture will expose them to be taken captive by him. They do not indeed fall and perish with Vain-confidence : but for a season they find it impossible to rise superior to prevailing gloomy doubts bordering on de- spair, or to obtain the least comfortable hope of deliverance, or encourage- ment to use the proper means of seeking it. Whenever we deliberately quit the plain path of duty, to avoid hardship and self-denial, we trespass on Giant Despair's grounds ; and are never out of his reach till renewed e.vercises of deep repentance and faith in Christ, producing unreserved obe- dience, especially in that instance where before we refused it, have set our feet in the highway we had forsaken. This we cannot attain to, without the special grace of God, which he may not see good immediately to com- municate; in the mean time every eflfort must be accompanied with dis- couragement and distress : but if, instead of persevering, amidst our anxious fears, to cry to him for help, and wait his time of showing mercy, we en- deavour to bolster up some false confidence, and take shelter in a refuge of lies, the event will be such as is here described. It will be in vain, after 256 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Christian had double sorrow, because it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into this distress.* Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence : so, when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done; to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best do further to them ? So she asked 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 such perverseness, to pretend that we have inadvertently mistaken our way: 'our own hearts will condemn us;' how then can 'we have confi- dence toward God, who is greater than our hearts, and knoweth all things'?' the grim Giant will prove too strong for us, and shut us up in his noisome dungeon, and the recollection of our former hopes and comforts will only serve to aggravate our wo. These lines are here inserted : — ' 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.' * Perhaps the exact time, from Wednesday morning till Saturday night, was mentioned, under the idea that it was as long as life can generally be supported in such a situation. The believer may be brought by wilful sin to such a condition that,. to his own apprehension, destruction is inevitable. Even a true Christian may sink so low as to have no light or comfort from the Scriptures and the Holy Spirit ; nothing to sustain his almost expiring faith and hope ; no help or pity from his brethren, but severe censures or more painful suspicions; the horrors of an accusing conscience, the dread of God as an enemy, connected with sharp and multiplied corrections in his outward circumstances ; and all this as the price of the ease or indulgence obtained by some wilful transgression ! Now who that really believes this, will take encouragement to sin from the doctrine of final perseverance ] Would a man, for a trivial gain, leap down a precipice, even if he could be sure that he should escape with his life 1 No, th« dread of the anguish of broken bones, and of being made a cripple to the end of his days, would effectually secure him from such a madness. ON THDRSDAY GIANT DESPAIR BEATS HIS PRI- SONERS. CODN- EM TO KILLTHKMSELVES. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 257 him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if they were dogs, although they gave him never a word of distaste : then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws, and leaves them there to condole their misery, and to mourn under their distress : so all that day they spent their time in nothino^ but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night she, talking with her husband further about them, and understanding that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away with themselves. So, when mornin , . 1 ^--, . . -^ , wlieretore he said unto Christian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy, that I can scarcely hold open mine eyes : let us lie down here, and take one nap. By no means, said the other; lest, sleeping, we never wake 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 Shep- herds bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground ? He atheists, than such as have for many years hypocritically professed the gos- pel ; for they often acquire an acquaintance with the several parts of reli- gion, their connexion with each other, and the arguments with which they are supported ; so that they know not where to begin, if they would oppose any particular doctrine or precept of revelation. Yet they hate the whole system ; and, having never experienced those effects from the truth, which the Scripture ascribes to it, they feel, that if there be any reality in reli- gion, their own case is very dreadful, and wish to shake off this mortifying and alarming conviction. And, as they have principally associated with loose professors, and witnessed much folly and wickedness among them ; they willingly take up a bad opinion of all who pretend to piety, (as rakes commonly revile all women,) and so they make a desperate plunge, and treat the whole of religion as imposture and delusion ; pretending, that upon a thorough investigation, they find it to be a compound of knavery, folly, 'nnd fanaticism. Thus God in awful judgment permits Satan to blind their eyes, because they 'obeyed not the truth, but had pleasure in un- righteousness.' Men set out with a dead faith and a worldly heart, and at length occupy the seat of the scorner! The vain reasonings and con- temptuous sneers of such apostates, may turn aside other unsound charac- ters, and perplex new converts ; but the experience of established believers will fortify them against these manifest delusions ; and corrections for pre- vious mistakes will render them jealous of themselves and one another; so that they will go on their way with greater circumspection, and pity the socrner who ridicules them. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 295 meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping ; — "wherefore let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch, and be sober." ^ Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault ; and, had I been here alone, I had by sleeping run he is rHANKFot, the danger of death. I see it is true that the wise man saith, "Two are better than one.'"" Hitherto hath thy company been my mercy ; and thou shalt have a good reward for thy labour.* Chr. Now then, said Christian, to prevent drowsi- ness in this place, let us fall into good good discourse •'• '-' PREVENTETH BROW- discourse. "''"''"• 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. y 1 Thess. v. 6. z Eccl. iv. 9. * The Enchanted Ground may represent a state of exemption from pecu- liar trials, and of worldly prosperity ; especially when Christians are unex- pectedly advanced in their outward circumstances, or engaged in extensive, flourishing business, A concurrence of agreeable dispensations sometimes succeeds to long continued difficulties ; the believer's peace is little inter- rupted, but he has not very high affections or consolations; he meets with respect and attention from his friends and acquaintance ; and is drawn on by success in his secular undertakings. This powerfully tends, through remaining depravity, to produce a lethargic and indolent frame of mind . the man attends on religious ordinances, and the constant succession of duties, more from habit and conscience, than from delight in the service of God : and even they, who have acquitted themselves creditably in a varied course of trials and conflicts, often lose much of their vigour, ac- tivity and vigilance, in these fascinating circumstances. No situation, in which a believer can be placed, requires so much watchfulness : other ex- periences resemble storms, which keep a man awake almost against his will ; this is a treacherous calm, which invites and lulls him to sleep. But pious discourse, the jealous cautions of faithful friends, and recollections of the Lord's dealings with us in times past, are admirably suited to coun- teract this tendency. The subsequent dialogue contains the author's own exposition of several particulars in the preceding allegory. 296 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. I will sing you first this song — 1 HE When saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, THEY THE BEG THEIR SION. DREAMER'S -And hear how these two pilgrims talk together; MOTE. Yea, let them learn of them in any wise Thus to keep ope their drowsy slumbering eyes. Saints' fellowship, if it be managed well, Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell. Then Christian began, and said, I will ask you a BEGIN AT question : How came you to think at first INNING OF ■* «' coNVER- Q^ doing what you do now? Hope. Do you mean, how I came at first to look after the good of my soul ? Chr. Yes, that is my meaning. Hope. I continued a great while in the delight of those things which were seen and sold at our fair; things which I believe now would have, had I continued in them still, drowned me in perdition and destruction. Chr. What things were they ? Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. HOPEFUL'S LIFE Also I delii^hted much in riotingf, revel- BEFORE CONVER- ^ O' "°''' ling, drinking, sw^earing, lying, unclean- ness, 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 hear^ of you, as also of beloved Faithful, that was put to death for his faith and good living in Vanity Fair, that " the end of these things is death ;" and that " for these things' sake, the wrath of God cometh upon the children of disobedience."^ Chr. And did you presently fall under the power of this conviction ? Hope. No ; I was not willing presently to know the a. Rom. vi. 21—23. Eph. v. 0. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 297 ONS OF HIS RESISTINa THE LIGHT. evil of sin, nor the damnation that follows hopefdi. at FIRST SHUTS HI9 upon the commission of it; but endea- eyj:^ against thb voured, 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 re 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 to leave it. 3. I could not tell how to part with mine old com- panions ; their presence and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me, were such troublesome and such heart- aftrighting 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 when he had lost his sense streets: or, «f^ sin, what ' brodght it a- 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, 2N 298 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 ? WHEN HE COULD HopE. I thousfht I ttiust cndeavour to E ^ ^ mend my life ; or else, thought I, I am NO LONGER SHAKE OFF HIS GUILT B SINFUL COURSE THENHEENDEA- . , i -i sure to be damned. VOURS TO MEND. 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, &c. These things did I, with many others, too much here to relate. Chr. And did you think yourself well then ? Hope. Yes, for a while ; but at the last my trouble * This word is used here and in other places, not to signify the evil of sin in the sight of God, and the transgressor's deserved liableness to punishment : but the remorse and fear of wrath, with which the con- vinced sinner is oppressed, and from which he often seeks relief by means which exceedingly increase his actual guilt. Nothing except a free pardon, by faith in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, can take away guilt : but the uneasiness of a man's conscience may be for a time removed by various expedients. The words guilt or guilty, are often used in this latter sense, by modern divines ; but it does not seem to be scripturally accurate, and may produce misapprehensions. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 299 THEN HE THOUGHT HIMSELF WELL. came tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck of all my reforma- tions. Chr. How came that about, since you were now reformed ? Hope. There were several things brought it upon me, especially such sayings as these: reformation at ^ _ ^O LASTCOULDNOT "All our righteousnesses are as filthy ""*"• ^"^ '''«^- rags;" — "By the works of the law no man shall be justified;" — "When ye have done all these things, say. We are unprofitable:"'' with many more such like. From whence I began to reason with myself thus : If all my righteousnesses are as filthy rags ; if by the deeds of the law no man can be justified; and if, when we have done all, we are yet unprofitable, then '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 his old debt stands still in the book uncrossed, the shopkeeper may sue him for it, and cast him into prison till he shall pay the debt. Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself? Hope. Why, I thought thus with m3'^self : 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 brought myself in danger of by my former trans- gressions ? Chr. a very good application : but pray go on. Hope. Another thing that hath troubled me ever b Isa. Ixiv. 6. Gal. ii. 16. Luke xvii. 10. HIS BEING A DEBTOR TO THE LAW TRODBLED HIM. 300 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. HIS EspyiNG BAD smcG mv late amendments, is, that if 1 THINGS IN HIS •' BEST, TRocBLED }qq]^ naFrowlj into the best of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing itself with the best of that I do: so that now I am forced to conclude, that, notwithstanding my former fond conceits of my- self and duties, I have committed sin enough in one day 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 broke my mind to Faithful ; for he and I were well ac- THis MABE HIM quaintcd I and he told me, that unless I BREAK UlSMIND 111 • 1 '1 r TO FAITHFUL, WHO couM ootam thc nshteousness 01 a man TOLDHIMTHE ~ WAY TO BE SAVED. ^]^g^^. ugygj. j^^d siuHed, ucithcr 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 amendments, I had called him fool for his pains; but now, since I see mine own infirmity, and the sin which cleaves to my best per- formance, 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 AT WHICH HE strangelv ! but, after a little more talk STARTED AT PRE- O ./ ^^^"^^ and company with him, I had full con- viction about it. Chr. And did you ask him what man this was, ana how you must be justified by him?" Hope. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus, c Rom. iv. Col. i. Heb. x. 2 Pot. i. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 301 A MORE PARTI- CCLAR DISCODRSE OFTIIKWAY TO BE SAVED. 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 on him. Chr. And what did you do then ? Hope. I made my objections against my believing, for that I thought he was not willing to ^e doubts of ACCEPTATION. 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.*^ Then he gave me a book of Jesus's inditing, to encourage me the more freely to come: and he said, concerning that book, that every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and earth.^ Then I asked him, what I must do when I came ? And he told me, I must entreat upon my knees,^ with all my heart and soul, the Father to reveal him to me. Then I asked him further, how I must make my supplications 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 forgive- ness to them that come. I told him, that I knew not what to say when I came. And he bid me say to this effect — " God be merciful HE IS BETTEi INSTRDCTED. RE IS BIO TO PRAY. d Matt. xi. 28. e Matt. xxiv. 35. f Psalm xcv. 6. Jer. xxix. J2, 13. Dan. xi. 10. g Exod. XXV. 22. Lev. xv. 2. Heb. iv. 16. 302 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. to me a sinner," and " make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ; for I see, that if his righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that righteousness, I am utterly cast away. Lord, I have heard that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world : and, moreover, that thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am, (and I am a sinner indeed :) Lord, take therefore this opportunity, and magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ. Amen." Chr. And did you do as you were bidden ? HE PRA7S. Hope. Yes, over, and over, and over. Chr. And did the Father reveal the Son to you ? Hope. Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, nor fifth, no, nor at the sixth time neither. Chr. What did you do then ? Hope. What ! why, I could not tell what to do. Chr. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying ? HE THOUGHT TO HopE. Ycs, aud a hundred times twice LEAVE OFF PRAY told. Chr. And what was the reason you did not? Hope. I believed that it 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, HE DDRST NOT thouglit I witli mvsclf. If I leave off, I LEAVEOFFPRAY- " "^ I NO. AND WHY. (jig^ and I can but die at the throne of grace. And withal this came into my mind, "If it tarry, wait for it, because it will surely come, and will not tarry."'' So I continued praying, until the Father showed me his Son. Chr. And how was he revealed unto you ? h Hab. ii. a CHRIST IS RE- VEALED TO HIM, AND HOW. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 303 Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with the eyes of mine understanding;' and thus it was: One day I was very sad, I think sadder than at any one time in my hfe ; 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 hel], and the everlasting damna- tion of my soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus look down from heaven upon me, and saying, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.'"" But I replied. Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner : and he answered, " My grace is sufficient for thee." Then I said. But, Lord, what is believing? And then I saw from that saying, " He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst,"' that believing and coming was all one ; and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed in Christ. 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.""' Then I said. But how. Lord, must I consider of thee in my coming to thee, that my faith may be placed aright upon thee? Then he said, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners : he is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believes : he died for our sins, and rose again for our justification : he loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood : he is Mediator betwixt God and us: he ever liveth to i Eph. i. 18, 19. k Acts xvi. 30, 31. 1 John vi. 35. ra John vi. 37. 304 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. make intercession for us."" From all which I gathered, that I must look for righteousness in his person, and for satisfaction for my sins by his blood ; that what he did in obedience to his Father's law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not for himself, but for him that will accept it for his salvation, and be thankful. And now was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running over with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ.* 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, notwith- standing all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation : it made me see that God the Father, n 1 Tim. i. 15. Rom. x. 4. Heb. vii. 24, 25. * Coming to Christ is properly the effect of faith: yet the language here used is warranted by Scripture. The word reveal, and the vision of Christ conversing with Hopeful, seem to sanction such things as have been greatly mistaken and abused, and have occasioned many scandals and objec- tions: yet it is evident, that the author meant nothing contrary to the most sober statement of scriptural truth. Christ did not appear to Hopeful's senses, but to his understanding : and the words spoken are no other than texts of Scripture taken in their genuine meaning ; not informing him, as by a new revelation, that his sins were pardoned, but encouraging him to apply for this mercy and all other blessings of salvation. So that, (allowing for the nature of an allegory,) the whole account for substance exactly coincides with the experience of the most sober Christians ; who, having been deeply humbled, and ready to sink under discouragement, have had such views of the love of Christ, of his glorious salvation, the freeness of the invitations, the largeness of the promises, and the nature of justifying faith, as have ' filled them with peace and joy in believing:' and these have been followed by such abiding effects as are here described, which com- pletely distinguish them from all the false joys of hypocrites and enthu- siasts. Others indeed cannot relate so orderly an account of their convic- tions and comforts; yet they are brought, (though by varied methods,) to the same reliance on Christ, and the same devoted obedience. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 305 though he be just, can justly justify the coming sinner : it made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and confounded me with the sense of mine own ignorance ; for there never came a thought into my heart, before now, that showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ : it made me love a holy life, and long to do something for the honour and glory of the name of the Lord Jesus ; yea, I thought that, had I now a thousand gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus. I saw then in my dream, that Hopeful looked back, and saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, 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 their talk. I like it 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 20 YOUNG lONORANCB COMES DP AOAIN. 306 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. you do ? How stands it between God and your soul now ? * Ignor. I hope well, for I am always full of good IGNORANCE'S HOPE, Hiotions, tliat come into my mind to AND THE GROUND OF '' '■'• comfort me as I walk. 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.t Chr. So do many that are never like to come there. " The soul of the sluggard desireth, and hath nothing."" Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all for them. Chr. That I doubt -, for to leave all is a very hard matter : yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. But why, or for what, art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God and heaven ? Ignor My heart tells me so. o Prov. xiii. 4. * In this dialogue Ignorance speaks exactly in character ; and the an- swers of the Pilgrims are conclusive against such absurd and unscriptural grounds of confidence, as are continually maintained by many who would be thought pious Christians. f The desire of heavenly felicity, when the real nature of it is not un- derstood, the proper means of obtaining it are neglected, other objects are preferred to it, or sloth and procrastination intervene, is no proof that a man will be saved. In like manner this expression, the desire of grace is grace, must be owned to be very fallacious and ambiguous. Men may be notion- ally convinced, that without grace they must perish, and mere selfishness may excite some feeble desires after it ; though worldly affections predomi- nate, and the real value of the spiritual good is not perceived. But to hunger and thirst for God and his righteousness, his favour, image, and ser- vice, as the supreme good ; so that no other object can satisfy the earnest desire of the heart, and every thing is renounced that interferes with the pursuit of it, is grace indeed, and shall be completed in glory. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 307 Chr. The wise man says, " He that trusteth in his own heart is a fool."P Ignor. That 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 has yet 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 hfe agree together ? 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 ttiis matter, other testimony is of no value. Ignor. Bui is it not a good heart that hath good thoughts ? and is not that a good life that is according to God's commandments ? Chr. Yes, that is a good heart that hath good thoughts, and that is a good life that is according to God's commandments ; but it is one thing indeed to have these, and another thing only to think so. Ignor. Pray, what count you good thoughts, and a life according to God's commandments ? Chr. There are good thoughts of divers kinds ^ — some respecting ourselves, some God, some Christ, and some other things. p Prov. xxviii. 26. * It is exceedingly dangerous to make comfort a ground of confidence ; unless the nature, source, and effects of that comfort be considered : for it may result entirely from ignorance and self-flattery, in a variety of ways. 308 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting ourselves ' WHAT ARE GOOD Chr. Such as B.gYeQ with the word of THODGHTS. /-I 1 God. Ignor. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree with the word of God ? Chr. When we pass the same judgment upon our- selves, 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."* It saith also, that " every imagination of the heart of man is only evil, and that continually." *i And again, " The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." Now then, when we think thus of our- selves, 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 hearts, so it passeth a judgment upon our ways; and when the thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judg- ment 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: it saith, q Gen. vi. 5. r Psalm cxxv. 5. * ' That which is born of the flesh, is flesh ;' ' The carnal mind is enmity against God ; for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be. So then they that are in the flesh cannot please God ;' for ' They are by nature the children of wrath.' This is man's natural condition : but of the regenerate it is said, ' Ye are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit ;' ' for that which is born of the Spirit, is Spirit :' and to such persons the texts adduced do not apply. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 309 they are naturally out of the good way, that they have not known it.^ Now, when a man thus thinketh of his ways, I say, when he doth sensibly, and with heart- humiliation, thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his own ways, because his thoughts now agree with the judgment of the word of God. Ignor. What are o-ood 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 have we right thoughts of God when we think that he knows us better than we know ourselves, and can see sin in us when and where we can see none in ourselves : when we think he knows our inmost thoughts, and that our heart, with all its depths, is always open unto his eyes : also when we think that all our righteousness stinks in his nostrils, and that therefore he cannot abide to see us stand before him in any confidence, even in all our best performances.* Ignor. Do you think that I am such a fool as to B Prov. ii. 15. Rom. iii. 17. * The external services, performed by unregenerate persons from selfish motives, being scanty and partial, and made the ground of self-complacency, and self-righteous pride, ' are abomination in the sight of God,' however ' highly esteemed among men :' ' For men look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh at the heart.' Even the obedience of a true believer, though it springs from right principles, and has some spiritual excellency in it, is yet so defective and defiled by sin, that if it were not accepted as the fruit of the Spirit through the mediation of Christ, it must be condemned by the holy law, and rejected w^ith abhorrence by a God of infinite purity. Men may allow this in words, and yet not know what it is to come as con- demned sinners, for a free justification and salvation, by faith in Christ. 310 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. think that God can see no further than I ? or that 1 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 beheve in Christ for justification. Chr. How ! think thou must beheve 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 dost, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never see the necessity of Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee before God. How then dost thou say, I 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 accept- ance of my obedience to his laws. Or thus, Christ makes my duties, that are religious, acceptable to his Father by virtue of his merits; and so shall I be justified. Chr. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith : 1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for this faith is no where described in the word. 2. Thou believest with a false faith ; because thou takest justification from the personal righteousness of Christ, and appliest 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.* * The way of being justified by faith, for which Ignorance pleads, may 'veil be called '■fantastical,^ as well as 'false ;' for it is no where kid down THE FAITH OF IGNORANCE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 311 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 justifica- tion, 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 acquitted from con- demnation. Ignor. What! would you have us trust to what Christ in his own person hath done without us ? This conceit would loosen the reins of our lusts, and tole- rate us to live as we list : for what matter how we live, if we may be justified by Christ's personal righteous- ness 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 righteous- ness 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. in Scripture : and it not only changes the way of acceptance, but it takes away the rule and standard of righteousness, and substitutes a vague notion, called sincerity, in its place, which never was, or can be, definea with orecision. IGNORANCE JAN- GLES WITH THEM. HE SPEAKS RE- PROACHFULLY OF WHAT HE KNOWS NOT. 312 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from heaven. Ignor. What ! you are a man for revelations ! I do 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 him.* Ignor. This 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 Jesus Christ but by the revela- tion of the Father ; yea, and faith too, by which the soul layeth hold upon Christ, (if it be right,) must be wrought by the exceeding greatness of his mighty power ; * the working of which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ignorant of. Be awakened then, see thine own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus ; and by his righteousness, which is the righteousness of God, (for he himself is God,) thou shalt be delivered from condemnation. t Matt. xi. 27. 1 Cor. xii. 3. Eph. i. 17—19. *• Pride, unbelief, and carnal prejudices or affections, so close the mind of a sinner against the spiritual glory of the Person and redemption of Christ, that nothing but the illumination of the Spirit removing this veil can enable him to understand and receive the revelation of the sacred oracles on these important subjects. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 313 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: THE TALK BROKE OF. 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 ; stop, 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 himself thus 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 this condition, whole families, yea, whole streets, and that of pilgrims too ; and if there be so many in our parts, how many, think you, must there be in the place where he was born ? * Chr. Indeed, the word saith, " He hath blinded their eyes, lest they should see," &c. But, now we are by ourselves, what do you think of such men? Have they at no time, think you, con- victions 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. * If numbers of ignorant persons may be found among the apparently religious, what must be the case of those, who are left without instruction to their native pride and self-conceit ! 2P THE GOOD DSE OF FEAR. 314 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may ; but they, being naturally ignorant, understand not that such convictions tend to their good; and therefore they do desperately seek to stifle them, and presump- tuously continue to flatter themselves in the way of their ovi^n 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."" Hope. How will you describe right fear ? RIGHT FEAR. Chr. Truc 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 any thing that may dis- honour God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak reproachfully.* u Job xxviii. 28. Psalm cxi. 10. Prov. i. 7. ix. 10. * Fears of wrath are too generally ascribed to unbelief, and deemed prejudicial ; but this arises from ignorance and mistake ; for belief of God's testimony must excite fears in every heart, till it is clearly perceived how that wrath may be escaped; and doubts mingled with hopes must arise from faith, till a man is conscious of having experienced a saving change. These fears and doubts excite men to self-examination, watchfulness, and diligence ; and thus tend to the believer's establishment, and ' the full assurance of hope unto the end :' while the want of them often results THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 315 Hope. Well said ; I believe you have said the truth. Are we now almost got past the Enchanted Ground ? Chr. Why ? are you weary of this discourse ? Hope. No, verily, but that I would know where we are. Chr. We have not now above two miles further to go thereon. — But let us return to our matter — Now, the ignorant know not that such con vie- why ignorant " PERSONS STIFLE tions as tend to put them in fear, are for 'conviction. 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 presump- tuously 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. from unbelief and stupidity of conscience, and terminates in carnal security and abuse of the gospel. Fears may indeed be excessive and unreasonable, and the effect of unbelief: but it is better to mark the extreme, and caution men against it, than by declaiming indiscriminately against all doubts and fears, to help sinners to deceive themselves, and discourage weak believers from earnestly using the scriptural means of ' making their calling and election sure.' * The expression pitiful old self-Jioliness, denotes the opinion that igno- rant persons entertain of their hearts as good and holy ; while the term, self-righteousness, relates to tlieir supposed good lives : but nothing can be further from our author's meaning, than to speak against ' sanctification by the Spirit unto obedience,' as evidential of our union with Christ, and acceptance in his righteousness. 316 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Hope. I know something of this myself; for before I knew myself, it was so with me. Chr. Well, we will leave, at this time, our neigh- bour Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable question. Hope. With all my heart : but you shall still begin. Chr. Well then, did you know, about ten years ago, TALK ABOUT ONE ouc Tcmporary in your parts, who was TEMPORARY. r> i • 1 • • il 1 a forward man m religion then r Hope. Know him ! yes ; he dwelt in Graceless, a WHERE HE 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. BE WAS TOWARD- Wcll, that mau was much awakened LY ONCE. ^^^^ ^ J jjgijg^g ^j^g^^ ^jjgj^ jjg Y^^^ 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 go now ; but all of a sudden he grew acquainted with one Save-self, and then he became a stranger to me.* * Temporary was doclrinally acquainted with the gospel, but a stranger to its sanctifying power. Such men have been forward in religion, but that is now past; for they were always graceless, and came short of nonesty in their profession, if not in their moral conduct, and were ever ready to turn back into the world at a convenient season. They have in- deed been alarmed ; but terror without humiliation will never subvert self- confidence : and of the numbers with whom some ministers converse under THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 317 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: there- fore, when the power of efuilt weareth reasons why away, that which provoked them to be «" b^^^k. religious ceaseth; wherefore they naturally turn to their old course again : even as we see the dog that is sick of what he hath eaten, so long as his sickness prevails, he vomits and casts up all ; not that he doth this of a free mind, (if we may say a dog has a mind,) but because it troubleth his stomach. But now, when his sickness is over, and so his stomach eased, his desires being not at all alienated 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.'"' 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 fear of damnation, chills and cools, so their desires for heaven and salvation cool also. So then it comes to pass, that when their guilt V 2 Pet. ii. 22. trouble of conscience, and of whom they hope well, how many disappoint their expectations, and after a time plunge deeper into sin than ever ! Such convictions resemble the blossoms of the fruit-tree, which must precede the ripe fruit, but do not always produce it: so that we cannot say, 'The more blossoms there are, the greater abundance will there be of fruit;' though we may be a.'ssured that there can be no fruit, if there be no blossoms. The reasons and ihe manner of such men's declensions and apostasy are very justly and emphatically stated : though perhaps not with sufficient delicacy to suit the taste of this fastidious age. 318 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. and fear is gone, their desires for heaven and happi- ness die, and they return to their course again. 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.""' So then, though they seem to be hot for heaven so long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet, when that terror is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts, namely, that it is good to be wise, and not to run (for they know not what) the hazard of losing all, or at least of bringing them- selves 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 the 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, the 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 trem- w Prov. xxix, 25. HOW THE APOS- TATE GOES BACK. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 319 oles, 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 it 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 reason 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 ofH by degrees private duties, as closet prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow foi 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 hke. 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 infirmities 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 dis- courses 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 320 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 pil- grims were got over the Enchanted Ground ; and enter- ing into the country of Beulah,^ whose air was very sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season, i^ea, here they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw every day the flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the land. In 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 ANGELS, in this land the shining ones commonly walked, because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this X Isa. Ixii. 4—12. Song ii. 10—12. * 'The hypocrite will not pray always;' nor can he ever pray with faith or sincerity, for spiritual blessings : but he may deprecate misery, and beg to be made happy, and continue to observe a form of private religion. But when such men begin to shun the company of lively Chris- tians, to neglect public ordinances, and to excuse their own conduct, by imitating the devil, the accuser of the brethren, in calumniating pious persons, magnifying their imperfections, insinuating suspicions of them, and aiming to confound all distinction of character among men ; we may safely conclude their state to be perilous in the extreme. While professed Christians should be exhorted carefully to look to themselves, and to watch against the first incursions of this spiritual declension ; it should also be observed, that the lamented infirmities and dulness of those who persist in using the means of grace, and striving against sin ; who decidedly prefer the company of believers, and deem them the excellent of the earth, and who are severe in judging themselves, but candid to others, are of a contrary nature and tendency to the steps of Temporary's apostasy. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 321 land also the contract between the Bride and the Bride- groom was renewed : yea, here, " as the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth their God rejoice over them." Here they had no want of corn and wine ; for in this place they met with abundance of what they had sought for in all their pilgrimage. Here they heard voices from out of the city, loud voices, saying, " Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold thy salvation Cometh ! Behold ! his reward is with him !" Here all the inhabitants of the country called them, " the holy people, the redeemed of the Lord, sought out,"* &c. Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote from the kingdom * The word Beulah signifies married; and the prophet, in the passage whence it is quoted, predicted a very flourishing state of religion, which is yet in futurity : but the author accommodates it to the sweet peace and confidence which tried believers commonly experience towards the close of their lives. This general rule admits indeed of exceptions : but the author, having witnessed many of these encouraging scenes, was willing to animate himself and his afflicted brethren with the hope of similar triumphant joys. The communion of saints in prayer, praises, and thanks- givings, with liberty and ardour, and hearts united in cordial love; the beauties of holiness, and the consolations of the Holy Spirit ; the healing beams of the Sun of Righteousness, shining by the sweet light of divine truth upon the soul ; exemption from darkening temptations and harassing doubts ; lively earnests and near prospects of heavenly felicity ; a cheering sense of communion with the heavenly host, in their fervent adorations, and a realizing apprehension of their ministering care over the heirs of salvation; a comfortable renewal of the acceptance of Christ, sealed with the tokens, pledges, and assurances of his love ; gratitude, submission, con- fidence in God, hope, and the sweet exercise of tenderness, sympathy, meekness, and humility, but little interrupted by the working of the con- trary evils : — these things seem to constitute the happy state here repre- sented. It is remarkable that the Psalms (which were intended, among other uses, to regulate the devotions and experiences of believers) abound at first with confessions, complaints, fears, and earnest cries of distress or danger; but towards the close become more and more the language of confidence, gratitude and joy, and conclude with unraingled praises and thanksgivings. 2Q 322 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 you see my beloved, tell him that I am sick of love."* But, being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were orchards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into the 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 delight, and also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them into the vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties 5^ he also showed them there the King's walks and arbours where he delighted to be : and here they tarried and slept. y Deut. ssiii. 24. * In the immediate view of heavenly felicity, Paul 'desired to depart hence and be with Christ, as far better' than life ; and David ' fainted for God's salvation.' In the lively exercise of holy affections, the believer grows weary of this sinful world ; and longs to have his faith changed for sight, his hope swallowed up in enjoyment, and his love perfected, and secured from all interruption and abatement. Were this frame of mind habitual, it might unfit men for the common concerns of life, which appear very trifling to the soul when employed in delightful admiring contera plation of heavenly glory. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 323 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^) was so extremely glorious, that they could not as yet with open face behold it, but through an instrument made for that purpose. So I saw that, as they went on, there met them two men in raiment that shone like gold, also their faces shone as the light. These men asked the pilgrims whence they came ; and they told them. They also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers, what com- forts and pleasures, they had met with 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.f Christian then and his companion asked the men to z Rev. xxi. 18. 2 Cor. iii. 18. * Attendance on the public ordinances is always the believer's duty and privilege ; yet he cannot at all times delight in them : hut, w^hen holy affections are in lively exercise, he sweetly rests in these earnests of heavenly joy ; and speaks freely and fervently of the love of Christ and the blessings of salvation, to the edification of those around him ; who often wonder at witnessing such a change, from reserve and diffidence to boldness and earnestness, in urging others to mind the one thing needful. t Perhaps the author here alluded to those pre-intimations of death, that some persons seem to receive : and he appears to have ascribed them to the guardian angeis, watching over every believer. Death, and admission into the City, were the only difficulties that awaited the Pilgrims. 324 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. go along with them : so they told them that they would. But, said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my dream, that they went on together till they came in sight of the gate. Now I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate DEATH, was a river; but there was no bridge to go over : the river was very deep. At the sight, there- fore, 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 have 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. The pilgrims then, especially Christian, be- gan to despond in their minds, and looked this way and DEATH NOT WEL. that z but uo wav could be found by them, COMBTONATURE, '' *' pfs^ouT^'oF THIS by which they might escape the river. w^oRLD INTO GLo- r^^^^ ^^lej aslvcd thc men if the waters were all of a depth ? They said. No ; yet they could ANGELS HELP not hclo thcm in that case: for, said they, us NOT COMFORT- '■ "^ deIth. '^"''*''"'" you shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place. They then addressed themselves to the water, and, entering. Christian began to sink, and, crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I sink in deep waters -, the billows go over my head j all his waves go over me. Selah. Then paid 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 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 325 and honey. And with that a OTeat dark- christians con- ~ FLICT AT THE ness and horror fell upon Christian, so hodr of death. that he could not see before him. Also here he in a 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 spoke 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 trouble- some thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim.* It was * Death is aptly represented by a deep river without a bridge, sepa- rating the believer from his heavenly inheritance : as Jordan flowed between Israel and the promised land. From this river, nature shrinks back, even when faith, hope, and love are in lively exercise; but when these decline, alarm and consternation may unite with reluctance at tlie thoughts of crossing it. The dreaded pangs that precede the awful sepa- ration of those intimate associates, the soul and body ; the painful parting with dear friends and every earthly object ; the gloomy ideas of the dark, cold, and noisome grave ; and the solemn thought of launching into an unseen eternity, render Death the king of terrors. But faith in a crucified, buried, risen, and ascended Saviour ; experience of his faithfulness and love in times past; hope of an immediate entrance into his presence, where temptation, conflicts, sin and suflfering will find no admission ; and the desire of perfect knowledge, holiness and felicity, will reconcile the mind to the inevitable stroke, and sometimes give a complete victory over every fear. Yet if faith and hope be weakened, through the recollection of any peculiar misconduct, the withholding of divine light and consola- tion, or some violent assault of the tempter, even the believer will be pecu- liarly liable to alarm and distress. His reflecting mind, having been long accustomed to consider the subject in its important nature and conse- quences, has very different apprehensions of God, of eternity, of judgment, of sin, and of himself, than other men have. Sometimes experienced saints are more desponding in these circumstances than their junior brethren : constitution has considerable effect upon the mind ; and some men (like Christian) are in every stage of their profession, more exposed to tempta- tions of a discouraging nature, than to ambition, avarice, or fleshly lusts. 326 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 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 did also endeavour to comfort him, saying. Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by to receive us; but Christian would answer, 'Tis you, 'tis you they wait for ; 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 troubled as other men, neither are they plagued like other men." These troubles and distresses that you go through in these waters, are no It has before been suggested, that the author probably meant to describe the peculiarities of his own experience, in the character of Christian ; and he may perhaps here have intimated his apprehension, lest he should not meet death with becoming fortitude. A conscientious life indeed is com- monly favoured with a peaceful close, even when forebodings to the con- trary have troubled men during their whole lives : and this is so far gene- ral, that they best provide for a comfortable death, who most diligently attend to the duties of their station, and the improvement of their talents, from evangelical principles; whereas they who live negligently, and yield to temptation, make, as it were, an assignation with terror to meet them on their death-bed, a season when comfort is more desirable than at any other. The Lord, however, is no man's debtor : none can claim consolation as their due : and, though a believer's experience and the testimony of his conscience may evidence the sincerity of his faith and love, yet he must disclaim to the last every other dependei>ce than the righteousness and blood of Christ, and the free mercy of God in him. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 327 sign that God hath forsaken you ; but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which hereto- fore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses. Then I saw in my dream, that Christian was in a muse a while. To whom also Hopeful added these words, Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole. And with that Christian brake out with a loud voice. Oh, I see him ao^ain! and he tells christian deli. ^ VERED FROM HIS me, " When thou passest through the ''^^^^ •'' °^^'^«- waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee."^ Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore presently found ground to stand upon, and so it fol- lowed that the rest of the river was but shallow : thus they got over.* Now, upon the bank of the river, on the other side, they saw the two shining men again, who there waited for them. Wherefore being come out of the river, they saluted them, saying. We are ministering the anqels do . . « , .. ™ , WAITFORTHEM spirits, sent forth to minister tor those so soon as they that shall be heirs of salvation. Thus of'this wo°ri,°d!^ they went along towards the gate. a Tsa. xliii. 2. * The temporary distresses of dying believers often arise from bodily disease, which interrupt the free exercise of their intellectual powers. Of this Satan will be sure to take advantage, as far as he is permitted ;• and will suggest gloomy imaginations, not only to distress them, but to dis- hearten others by their example. What may in this state be painted before the fancy we cannot tell : but it is generally observed, that such painful conflicts terminate in renewed hope and comfort, frequently by means of the conversation and prayers of Christians and ministers;^ so that they, who for a time have been most distressed, have at length died most tri- umphantly. THEY HAVE PDT OFF MORTALITY. 328 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now, you must note, that the City stood upon a mighty hill: but the pilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to lead them up by the arms : they had likewise left their mortal garments behind them in the river ; for though they went in with them, they came out without them. They therefore went up here with much agility and speed, though the foundation upon which the City was framed was higher than the clouds : they therefore went up through the region of the air, sweetly talking as they went, being comforted, because they safely got over the river, and had such glorious companions to attend them.* The talk that they had with the shining ones was about the glory of the place ; who told them, that the beauty and glory of it was inexpressible. There, said they, is "Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect.'"" You are going now, said they, to the paradise of God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof: and when you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of eternity.*' There you shall not see again such things as you saw when you were in the lower region upon the earth; to wit, b Heb. xii. 22—24 c Rev. ii. 7. iii. 4, 5. x.xii. 5. * When Lazarus died, he was carried by angels into Abraham's bosom ; and we have every reason to believe, that the services of these friendly spirits to the souls of departed saints are immediate and sensible ; and that their joy is such as is here described. The beautiful description that follows admits of no elucidation: some of the images indeed are taken from modern customs; but in all other respects it is entirely scriptural, and very intelligible and animating to the spiritual mind. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 329 sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death ; " for the former things are passed away.'"' You are going now to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the prophets, men that God hath taken away from the evil to come, and that are now " resting upon their beds, each one walking in his righteousness." The men then asked. What must we do in the holy place ? To whom it was answered. You must there receive the comfort of all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow ; you must reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and sufterings for the King by the way.^ 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."*^ There also you shall serve him continually with praise, with shouting, and thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the world, though with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing, and your ears with hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy your friends again that are gone thither before you ; and there you shall with joy receive even every one that follows into the holy place after you. There also you shall 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 d Isa. Jxv. 16, 17. e Gal. vi. 7, 8. f 1 John iii. 2. 2R 330 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. enemies. Also, when he shall again return to the City, you shall go too, with sound of trumpet, and be ever with him.^ Now, while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them : to whom it was said by the other two shining ones. These are the men that have loved our Lord, when they were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name ; and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, "Blessed are they that are called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb.'"" There came out also at this time to meet them several of 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 g 1 Thcss. iv. 13—17 Jude 14, 15. Dan. vii. 9, 10. 1 Cor. vi 2, 3. h Rev. xix. 9. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 331 how welcome they were into their company, and with what gladness they came to meet them. And now were these two men, as it were, in heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with hearing 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 ex- pressed ! Thus they came up to the gate. Now, when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it, in letters of gold, " BLESSED ARE THEY THAT DO HIS COM- MANDMENTS, THAT THEY MAY HAVE RIGHT TO THE TREE OF LIFE, AND MAY ENTER IN THROUGH THE GATES INTO THE CITY."'* Then I saw in my dream, that the shining men bid them call at the gate : the which when they did, some from above looked over the gate, to wit, Enoch, Moses, and Elijah, &c. ; to whom it was said, These pilgrims i Rev. xxii. 14. * The commandments of God, as given to sinners under a dispensation of mercy, call them to repentance, faith in Christ, and the obedience of faith and love ; the believer habitually practises according to these com- mandments, from the time of his receiving Christ for salvation; and this evidences his interest in all the blessings of the new covenant, and proves that he has a right through grace to the heavenly inheritance. May the writer of these remarks, and every reader, have such ' an abundant en- trance,' as is here described, ' into the everlasting kmgdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ !' 332 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. are come from the city of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this place : and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning : those, therefore, were carried in unto the King, who, when he had read them, said. Where are the men? To whom it was answered. They are standing without the gate. The King then commanded to open the gate, " that the righteous nation (said he) that keepeth the truth may enter in.'"" Now I saw in my dream, that these two men went in at the gate; and, lo! as they entered, they were transfigured ; and they had raiment put on, that shone hke gold. There were also that met them with harps and crowns, and gave them to them; the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my dream, that all the bells in the City rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, " ENTER YE INTO THE JOY OF YOUR LORD." I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying, " BLESSING, AND HONOUR, AND GLORY, AND POWER BE UNTO HIM THAT SITTETH UPON THE THRONE, AND UNTO THE LAMB, FOR EVER AND EVER."' 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 ; k Isa. xxvi. 2. 1 Rev. v 13. VAIN-HOPE D0K9 FERRY HIM OVER. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 333 and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads, pahiis in their hands, and golden harps, to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermission, saying, " Holy, holy, holy is the Lord." And after that they shut up the gates ; which when I had seen, I wished myself among them. Now, while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look back, and saw xo^orance comes Ignorance come up to the river-side: but he soon got over, and that without half the difficulty which the other two men met with. For it happened that there was then in that place one Vain-hope, a ferry-man, that with his boat helped him over : so he, as the others 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 come you ? and what would you have ? He answered, I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught in our streets. Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might go in and show it to the King : so he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, Have you none ? but the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him, but commanded the two shining ones, that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the City, to go out, and take 334 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away.* Then they took him up, and carried him through the air to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven, as well as from the city of Destruction. So I awoke, and behold, it was a dream. * We frequently hear of persons that have lived strangers to evangelical religion, and the power of godliness, dying with great composure and re- signation : and such instances are brought forward as an objection to the necessity of faith, or of a devoted life. But what do they prove'? What evidence is there, that such men are saved 1 Is it not far more likely that they continued to the end under the power of ignorance and self-conceit ; that Satan took care not to disturb them ; and that God gave them over to a strong delusion, and left them to perish with a lie in their right hand? Men, who have neglected religion all their lives, or have habitually for a length of years disgraced an evangelical profession, being when near death visited by pious persons, sometimes obtain a sudden and extraordinary mea- sure of peace and joy, and die in this frame. This should in general be considered as a bad sign : for deep humiliation, yea distress, united with some trembling hope in God's mercy through the gospel, is far more suited to their case, and more likely to be the effect of spiritual illumination. But when a formal visit from a minister of any sect, a few general questions, and a prayer, (with or without the sacrament,) calm the mind of a dying person, whose life has been unsuitable to the Christian profession ; no doubt, could we penetrate the veil, we should see him wafted across the River in the boat of Vain-hope, and meeting with the awful doom that is here described. From such delusions, good Lord, deliver us. Amen. CONCLUSION. Now, Reader, I have told my Dream to thee, See if thou canst mterpret it to me, Or to thyself, or neighbour : but take heed. Of misinterpreting ; for that, mstead 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 thou'lt 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 tiiou shalt cast all away as vain, I know not but 'twill make me dream again. (335) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. DELIVERED CNDES THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. PART 11. wherein is set forth the manner of the setting out of christian's wife and children; their dangerous journey, and safe arrival at the desired country. " I have used similitudes." IIos xii. 10. 2 S THE AUTHOR'S WAY OF SENDING FORTH SECOND PART OF THE PILGRIM. Go now, my little Book, to every place, Where my First Pilgrim, has but shown his face. Call at their door : if any say, JVho^s there ? Then answer thou, Christiana is here. If they bid thee come in, then enter thou, With all thy boys ; and then, as thou know'st how, Tell who they are, also from whence they came ; Perhaps they'll know them by their looks, or name : But if they should not, ask them yet again. If formerly they did not entertam One Christian, a Pilgrim,} If they say, They did, and were delighted in his way ; Then let them know that these related were Unto him ; yea, his Wife and Children are. Tell them, that they have left their house and home ; Are turned Pilgrims ; seek a World to come ; That they have met with hardships in the way ; That they do meet with troubles night and day ; That they have trod on serpents ; fought with devils ; Have also overcome a many evils. Yea, tell them also of the next who have. Of love to Pilgrimage., been stout and brave (339) 340 THE AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT Defenders of that Way ; and how they still Refuse this World to do their Father's will. Go tell them also of those dainty things That Pilgrimage unto the Pilgrim brings. Let them acquainted be, too, how they are Beloved of their King, under his care ; What goodly mansions he for them provides ; Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tides, How brave a calm they will enjoy at last, Who to their Lord, and by his ways hold fast. ' Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace Thee, as they did my firstling ; and will grace Thee and thy fellows with such cheer and fare, As show well, they of Pilgrims lovers are. OBJECTION I. But how, if they will not believe of me That I am truly thine ? 'cause some there be That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name, Seek, by disguise, to seem the very same ; And by that means have wrought themselves into The hands and houses of I know not who. ANSWER. 'Tis true, some have, of late, to counterfeit My Pilgrim, to their own my title set ; Yea, others half my name, and title too. Have stitched to their books, to make them do. But yet they, by their features do declare Themselves not mine to be, whose e'er they are. If such thou meetst with, then thine only way, Before them all, is to say out thy say, In thine own native language, which no man Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can. If, after all, they still of you shall doubt. Thinking that you, like gypsies, go about OF THE SECOND PART. 341 In naughty-wise the country to defile ; Or that you seek good people to beguile With things unwarrantable ; send for me, And I will testify you Pilgrims be ; Yea, I will testify that only you My Pilgrims are ; and that alone will do. OBJECTION II. But yet, perhaps, I may inquire for him. Of those who wish him damned life and limb. What shall I do, when I at such a door For Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more ? ANSWER. Fright not thyself, my Book, for such bugbears Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears. My Pilgrim's book has travelled sea and land. Yet could I never come to understand That it was slighted or turned out of door, By any kingdom, were they rich or poor. In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, My Pilgrim is esteemed a friend, a brother. In Holland too, 'tis said, as I am told. My Pilgrim is, with some, worth more than gold. Highlanders, and wild Irish can agree, My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 'Tis in New England under such advance, Receives there so much loving countenance, As to be trimmed, new clothed, and decked with gems, Tha,t it might show its features, and its limbs. Yet more ; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk. That of him thousands daily sing and talk. If you draw nearer home, it will appear, My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear : City and country will him entertain With Welcome, Pilgrim ; yea, they can't refrain 342 THE AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT From smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by, Or shows his head in any company. Brave gallants do my Pilgrim hug and love, Esteem it much, yea, value it above Things of a greater bulk ; yea, with delight Say, my lark's leg is better than a kite. Young ladies, and young gentlewomen too. Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim show : Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts, JMy Pilgrim has ; cause he to them imparts His pretty riddles in such wholesome strains. As yield them profit double to their pains Of reading ; yea, I think I may be bold To say some prize him far above their gold. The very children that do walk the street, If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet. Salute him will; will wish him well, and say. He is the only stripling of the day. They that have never seen him, yet admire What they have heard of him, and much desire To have his company, and hear him tell Those pilgrhn stories which he knows so well. Yea, some that did not love liim at the first. But call'd him fool and noddy, say they must. Now they have seen and heard him, him commend, And to those whom they love they do him send. Wherefore, my Second Part, thou needst not be Afraid to show thy head : none can hurt thee. That wish but well to him that went before : 'Cause thou com'st after with a second store Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, For young, for old, for staggering, and for stable. OBJECTION III. But some there be that say. He laughs too loud ; And some do say His head is in a cloud. Some say, His words and stories are so dark. They know not how, by them, to find his mark. OF THE SECOND PART. 313 ANSWER. One may, I think, say, both his laughs and cries May well be guessed at by his watery eyes. Some things are of that nature, as to make One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache : When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep, He did at the same time both kiss and weep. Whereas some say, Ji cloud is in his head', That doth but show his wisdom's covered With its own mantle. And to stir the mind To search well after what it fain would find, Things that seem to be hid in words obscure Do but the godly mind the more allure To study what those sayings should contain, That speak to us in such a cloudy strain. I also know a dark similitude Will on the curious fancy more intrude. And will stick faster in the heart and head. Than things from similes not borrowed. Wherefore, my Book, let no discouragement Hinder thy travels. Behold ! thou art sent To friends, not foes ; to friends that will give place To thee, thy Pilgrims, and thy words embrace. Besides, what my First Pilgrim left concealed, Thou, my brave Second Pilgrim, hast revealed ; Wliat Christian left locked up, and went his way. Sweet Christiana opens with her key. OBJECTION IV. But some love not the method of your first : Romance they count it ; throw't away as dust. If I should meet with such, what should I say ? Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay ? ANSWER. My Christiana, if with such thou meet, By all means, in all loving wise them greet ; 344 THE AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT Render them not reviling for revile ; But, if they frown, I pr'ythee on them smile : Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report, Has made them thus despise ; or thus retort. Some love no fish, some love no cheese, and some Love not their friends, nor their own house or home j Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl, More than they love a cuckoo or an owl. Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice, And seek those who to find thee will rejoice : By no means strive, but, in most humble wise, Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim's guise. Go then, my little Book, and show to all That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall, What thou shalt keep close shut up from the rest ; And wish what thou shalt show them may be blest To them for good, and make them choose to be Pilgrims better by far than thee or me. Go then, I say, tell all men who thou art ; Say, I am Christiana ; and my part Is now, with my four sons, to tell you what It is for men to take a Pilgrim's lot. Go, also, tell them who and what they be That now do go on Pilgrimage with thee ; Say, Here's my neighbour Mercy ; she is one That has long time with me a Pilgrim gone ; Come, see her in her virgin face, and learn 'Twixt idle ones and Pilgrims to discern. Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize The World which is to come, in any wise. When little tripping maidens follow God, And leave old doting sinners to his rod, 'Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried, Hosanna ! when the old ones did deride. Next tell them of old Honest, whom you found, With his white hairs treading the Pilgrim's ground ; Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was, How after his good Lord he bare the cross. OF THE SECOND PART. 345 Perhaps with some gray head this may prevail With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail. Tell them also, how Master Fearing went On pilgrimage, and how the time he spent In solitariness, with fears and cries ; And how, at last, he won the joyful prize. He was a good man, though much down in spirit*, He is a good man, and doth life inherit. Tell them of Master Feeble-mind also. Who not before, but still behind would go. Show them also, how he had like been slain, And how one Great-heart did his life regain. This man was true of heart, though weak in grace ; One might true godliness read in his face. Then tell them of Master Ready-to-halt, A man with crutches, but much without fault. Tell them how Master Feeble-mind and he Did love, and in opinion much agree. And let all know, though weakness was their chance. Yet sometimes one could sing, the other dance. Forget not Master Valiant-for-the-truth, That man of courage, though a very youth : Tell every one his spirit was so stout. No man could ever make him face about ; And how Great-heart and he could not forbear, But pull down Doubting Castle, slay Despair ! Overlook not Master Despondency, Nor Much-afraid his daughter, though they he Under such mantles, as may make them look, With some, as if their God had them forsook. They softly went, but sure ; and, at the end, Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their friend. When thou hast told the world of all these things, Then turn about, my Book, and touch these strings, Which, if but touched, will such music make. They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake. Those riddles that lie couched within thy breast. Freely propound, expound ; and for the rest 2T 346 THE AUTHOR'S ACCOUNT. Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain. Now may this little book a blessing be To those who love this little Book and me : And may its buyer have no cause to say, His money is but lost or thrown away. Yea, may this Second Pilgrim yield that fruif; As may with each good Pilgrim's fancy suit ; And may it some persuade, that go astray, To turn their feet and heart to the right way. Is the hearty prayer of The Author, JOHN BUN Y AN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, PART II. OME time since, to tell you my dream that I had of Christian the pilgrim, and of his dangerous jour- ney towards the Celestial Country, was pleasant to me and profitable to you. I told you then also what I saw concerning his wife and children, and how unwilling they were to go with him on pil- grimage; insomuch that he was forced to go on his progress without them : for he durst not run the danger of that destruction, which he feared would come by stay- mg with them in the city of Destruction : wherefore, as I then showed you, he left them and departed. 347 348 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS Now, it hath so happened, through the multiplicity of business, that I have been much hindered and kept back from my wonted travels into those parts whence he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an oppor- tunity to make further inquiry after whom he left behind, that I might give you an account of them. But, having had some concerns that way of late, I went down again thitherward. Now, having taken up my lodging in a wood, about a mile off the place, as I slept, I dreamed again.* And, as I was in my dream, behold, an aged gentle- man came by where I lay ; and because he was to go some part of the way that I was travelling, methought I got up, and went with him. So, as we walked, and as travellers usually do, I was as if we fell into a dis- course, and our talk happened to be about Christian and his travels ; for thus I began with the old man. Sir, said I, what town is that there below, that lieth on the left-hand of our way ? Then said Mr. Sagacity, (for that was his name,) It is the city of Destruction, a populous place, but pos- sessed with a very ill-conditioned and idle sort of people. I thought that was that city, quoth I ; I went once myself through that town; and therefore know that this report you give of it is true. * It has been before observed, That the first part of ' The Pilgrim's Progress' is in all respects the most complete. Yet there are many things in the second well worthy of the pious reader's attention ; nor can there be any doubt, but it was penned by the same author. It is not, however, necessary, that the annotator should be so copious upon it, as upon the more interesting instructions of the preceding part. In general, the leading incidents may be considered as the author's own exposition of his meaning in the former part ; or as his delineation of some varieties, that occur in events of a similar nature : yet some particulars will demand, and richly deserve, a more full and exact elucidation. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 340 Sag. Too true ! I wish I could speak truth iu speak- ing better of them that dwell therein. Well, sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well- meaning man, and so one that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that which is good : pray did you never hear what happened to a man some time ago, of this town, (whose name was Christian,) that went on a pilgrimage up towards the higher regions ? Sag. Hear of him ! Ay, and I also heard of the molestations, troubles, wars, captivities, cries, groans, friohts, and fears, that he met with and had on his journey. Besides, I must tell you, all our country rings of him : there are but few houses, that have heard of him and his doings, but have sought after and got the records of his pilgrimage : yea, I think I may say, that his hazardous journey has got many well-wishers to his ways; for, though when he was here he was fool in every man's mouth, yet now he is gone christians arb he is highly commended of all. Foritis when gone,thodgh ~ •' C A L L E D F O O L S \V II I L E said he lives bravely where he is: yea, "^"^^^ '^^^ '""''=• many of them that are resolved never to run his hazards, yet have their mouths water at his gains. They may, quoth I, well think, if they think any thing that is true, that he liveth well where he is ; for he now lives at and in the Fountain of life, and has what he has without labour and sorrow, for there is no grief mixed therewith. But pray what talk have the people about him ? Sag. Talk ! the people talk strangely about him : some say, that he now walks in white ;^ that he has a chain of gold about his neck ; that he has a crown of gold, beset with pearls, upon his head. Others say, a Rev. iii. 4. vi. 11. 350 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. that the shining ones, that sometimes showed themselves to him in his journey, are become his companions, and that he is as famihar with them in the place where he iS, as here one neighbour is with another.*' Besides, it is confidently affirmed concerning him, that the King of the place where he is has bestowed upon him already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at court, and that he every day eateth and drinketh, and walketh and talketh, with him, and receiveth of the smiles and favours of him that is Judge of all there. Moreover, it is expected of some, that his Prince, the Lord of that country, will shortly come into these parts, and will know the reason, if they can give any, why his neighbours set so little by him, and had him so much in derision, when they perceived that he would be a pilgrim." For they say, that now he is so in the affections of CHRISTIAN'S KING his Princo^ and that his Sovereiajn is so WILLTAKECHRIS- _ ~ TiAN's PART. much concerned with the indignities that were cast upon Christian, when he became a pilgrim, that he will look upon all as if done unto himself: and no marvel, for it was for the love that he had to his Prince that he ventured as he did.*^* b Zech. iii. 7. c Jude 14, 15. d Luke x. 10. * Christians are the representatives on earth of the Saviour and Judge of the world; and the "usage they meet with, whether good or bad, com- monly originates in men's love to him, or contemptuous enmity against him. The decisions of the great day therefore will be made, with an especial reference to this evidence of men's faith or unbelief Faith works by love of Christ, and of his people for his sake, which influences men to self- denying kindness towards the needy and distressed of the flock. Where these fruits are totally wanting, it is evident there is no love of Christ, and consequently no faith in him, or salvation by him. And as true believers are the excellent of the earth, no man can have any good reason for despising, hating, and injuring them ; so that this usage will be adduced as a proof of positive enmity to Christ, and expose the condemned sinner to more aggravated misery. "Indeed, it often appears^ afler the death of con- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 351 I dare say, quoth I ; I am glad on't ; I am glad for the poor man's sake, for that now he has rest from his labour,*" and for that he now reapeth the benefit of his tears with joy ;' and for that he has got beyond the gun- shot of his enemies, and is out of the reach of them that hate him. I also am glad, for that a rumour of these things is noised abroad in this country ; who can tell but that it may work some good effect on some that are left behind ? But pray, sir, while it is fresh in my mind, do you hear any thing of his wife and child- ren ? Poor hearts ! I wonder in my mind what they do. Sag. Who? Christiana and her sons? They are like to do as well as Christian did him- good tidings of christian's wife self; for, though they all played the fool ^''° children. at first, and would by no means be persuaded by either the tears or entreaties of Christian, yet second thoughts have wrought wonderfully with them: so they have packed up, and are also gone after him. Better and better, quoth I; but, what! wife and children and all ? Sag. It is true : I can give you an account of the matter, for I was upon the spot at the instant, and was thoroughly acquainted with the whole affair. Then said I, A man, it seems, may report it for a truth. Sag. You need not fear to affirm it ; I mean, that they are all gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her four boys. And being we are, as I perceive, e Rev. xiv. 13. f Psalm cxxvi. 5, 6. sistent Christians, that the consciences of their most scornful opposers secretly favoured them : it must then surely be deemed the wisest conduct by every reflecting person, to ' let these men alone, lest haply he should be found to fight against God.' 352 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. going some considerable way together, I will give you an account of the whole of the matter. This Christiana, (for that was her name from the day that she with her children betook themselves to a pilgrim's life,) after her husband was gone over the river, and she could hear of him no more, her thoughts began to work in her mind. First, for that she had lost her husband, and for that the loving bond of that relation was utterly broken betwixt them. For you know, said he to me, nature can do no less but enter- tain the living with many a heavy cogitation, in the remembrance of the loss of loving relations. This, TslrlJJ'cHvl'il therefore, of her husband did cost her IelaVions.""'"'' many a tear. But this was not all ; for Christiana did also begin to consider with herself, whether her unbecoming behaviour towards her hus- band was not one cause that she saw him no more ; and that in such sort he was taken away from her. And upon this came into her mind, by swarms, all her unkind, unnatural, and ungodly carriage, to her dear friend; which also clogged her conscience, and did load her with guilt. She was, moreover, much broken with recalling to remembrance the restless groans, brinish tears, and self-bemoanings, of her husband, and how she did harden her heart aojainst all his entreaties, and loving persuasions, of her and her sons, to go with him ; yea, there was not any thing that Christian either said to her, or did before her, all the while that his burden did hang on his back, but it returned upon her like a flash of lightning, and rent the caul of her heart in sunder, especially that bitter outcry of his, "What shall I do to be saved?" did ring in her ears most dolefully. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 353 Then said she to her children, Sons, we are all undone. I have sinned away your father, and he is gone : he would have had us with him, but I would not go myself: I also have hindered you of life. With that the boys fell into tears, and cried out to go after their father. Oh ! (said Christiana) that it had been but our lot to go with him! then had it fared well with us, beyond what it is like to do now. For, though I for merly foolishly imagined, concerning the troubles ot your father, that they proceeded of a foolish fancy that he had, or for that he was overrun with melan- choly humours ; yet now it will not out of my mind, but that they sprang from another cause ; to wit, for that the light of life was given him;^ by the help of which, as I perceive, he has escaped the snares of death. Then they all wept again, and cried out. Oh ! wo worth the day !* The next night Christiana had a dream ; and, behold, she saw as if a broad parchment was Christianas dream. opened before her, in which were recorded the sum of g John viii. 12. * It is here evident, that the author was intent on encouraging pious persons to persevere in using all means for the spiritual good of their children, even when they see no effects produced by them. The Scripture teaches us to expect a blessing on such endeavours : the dying testimony and counsels of exemplary believers frequently make a deeper impression than all their previous instructions: the death of near relations, who have behaved well to such as despised them, proves a heavier loss than was ex- pected : the recollection of unkind behaviour to such valuable friends, and of the pains taken to harden the heart against their affectionate admoni- tions, sometimes lies heavy on the conscience ; and thus the prayers of the believer for his children or other relatives, are freqiK.ntly answered after his death. And when some of them begin to inquire, * What must we do to be saved]' these will become zealous instruments in seeking the con- version of those, whom before they endeavoured to prejudice against the ways of God. 2U 354 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. her ways ; and the crimes, as she thought, looked very black upon her. Then she cried out aloud in her sleep, "Lord, have mercy upon me, a sinner!"^ and the little children heard her. After this, she thought she saw two very ill-favoured ones standing by her bed-side, and saying. What shall MARK this; this we do with this woman ? for she cries out IS THE QUINTES- SENCE jF HELL. |*Qj. jnercy, waking and sleeping. If she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husband. Wherefore we must, by one way or other, seek to take her off from the thoughts of what shall be hereafter, else all the world cannot help but she will become a pilgrim.* Now she awoke in a great sweat, also a trembling was upon her; but after a while she fell to sleeping again. And then she thought she saw Christian, her husband, in a place of bliss among many immortals, with a harp in his hand, standing and playing upon it before One that sat on a throne, with a rainbow about his head. She saw also, as if he bowed his head with his face to the paved h Luke xviii. 13. * The mind, during sleep, is often occupied about those subjects that have most deeply engaged the waking thoughts: and it sometimes pleases God to make use of ideas thus suggested, to influence the conduct by exciting fears or hopes. Provided an intimation be scriptural, and the effect salutary, we need not hesitate to consider it as a divine monition, however it was brought to the mind ; but, if men attempt to draw conclusions in respect of their acceptance or duty ; to determine the truth of certain doctrines ; to prophesy, or to discover hidden things, by dreams or visions of any kind ; they then become a very dangerous and disgraceful species of enthusiasm. Whatever means are employed, conviction of sin and a disposition earnestly to cry for mercy, are the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart ; and on the other hand, the powers of darkness will surely use every effort and stra- tagem to take off inquirers from thus earnestly seeking the salvation of God. HELP AGAINST DISCODRAGEHENT. THE PILGRIM'S f»ROGRESS 355 work that was under his Prince's feet, saying, I heartily thank my Lord and King for bringing me into this place. Then shouted a company of them that stood round about, and harped with their harps : but no man living could tell what they said, but Christian and his companions. Next morning, when she was up, had prayed to God, and talked with her children a while, one knocked hard at the door ; to whom she spake out, saying. If thou comest in God's name, come in. So he said, Amen ; and opened the door, and saluted her with. Peace be to this house. The which when he had done, he said, Christiana, knowest thou wherefore I am come ? Then she blushed and trembled; also her heart began to wax warm with desires to know from whence he came, and what was his errand to her. So he said unto her, My name is Secret ; I dwell with those that are on high. It is talked of where I -dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to go thither: also there is a re- convictions se- port that thou art aware of the evil thou ^'oV/r'^on.^ '"'"'' hast formerly done to thy husband, in hardening of thy heart against his way, and in keeping of these babes in their ignorance. Christiana, the merciful One has sent me to tell thee, that he is a God ready to for- give, and that he taketh delight to multiply the pardon of offences. He also would have thee to know, that he inviteth thee to come into his presence, to his table, and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, and with the heritage of Jacob thy father. There is Christian, thy husband that was, with legions more, his companions, ever beholding that face that doth minister life to the beholders ; and they will all be glad when they shall hear the sound of thy feet step over thy Father's threshold. 356 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Christiana at this was greatly abashed in herself, and bowed her head to the ground. This visitor proceeded, and said, Christiana, here is also a letter for thee, which I have brought from thy husband's King. So she took it, and opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best perfume;' also it was written in letters of gold. The contents of the letter were these : That the King would have her to do as did Christian her husband, for that was the way to come to his city, and to dwell in his presence with joy for ever. At this the good woman was quite overcome ; so she cried out to her visitor, Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, that we also may go and worship the King?* Then said the visitor, Christiana, the bitter is before FCRTHER IN- thc swcct. Tliou inust through troubles, as did he that went before thee, enter this CHRISTIANA QUITE OVERCOME. STRnCTIONS TO SHRISTliNA. i Song i. 3. * ' The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him.' The intimations given by Secret seem to represent the silent teaching of the Holy Spirit, by which the true meaning of the Scriptures is discovered, and the real grounds of encouragement brought to the penitent's notice or recollection. Thus he learns that the way of salvation is yet open to him : and the in- vitations of the gospel prove more fragrant and refreshing than the most costly ointment, and more precious than the gold of Ophir. It is observable that Secret did not inform Christiana that her sins were forgiven, or that Christ and the promises belonged to her ; but merely that she was invited to come, and that coming in the appointed way she would be accepted, not- withstanding her pertinacious unbelief in the preceding part of her life. Thus, without seeming to have intended it, the author hath stated the scrip- tural medium between the extremes which have been contended for with great eagerness and immense mischief in modern days; while some main- tain, that sinners should not be invited to come to Christ, or commanded to repent and believe the gospel ; and others that they should be urged to believe at once, with full assurance, that all the blessings of salva- tion belong to them, even previously to repentance, or works meet for repentance ! THE PILGRIMS PROGRESS. 357 Celestial City.* Wherefore, I advise thee to do as did Christian thy husband; go to the Wicket-gate yonder over the plain, for that stands at the head of the wsiy up which thou must go, and I wish thee all good speed. Also I advise thee, that thou put this letter in thy bosom; that thou read therein to thyself, and to thy children until you have got it by root of heart ; for it is one of the sonffs that thou must sinoj while thou art in this house of thy pilgrimage:'' also this thou must deliver in at the further gate. Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentleman, as he told me the story, did himself seem to be greatly affected therewith. He moreover proceeded, and said, So Christiana called her sons together, and began thus to address herself unto them : My sons, I have, as you may perceive, been of CHRISTIANA PRAYS HER SONS TO TAKE THEIR JOURNEY. k Psalm cxis. 54. * ' Through much tribulation we must enter into the kingdom of God !' Habitual self-denial, even in things lawful in themselves, yet in many cases inexpedient, mortification of our sinful inclinations, inward conflicts, the renunciation of worldly interests and connexions, the scorn and hatred of the world, sore temptations, and salutary chastisements, are very bitter to our natural feelings. Habits likewise, and situation, often render some of them extremely painful, like 'cutting off a right hand, or plucking out a right eye :' and deep poverty, persecution, or seasons of public calamity, may enhance these tribulations. If a man, therefore, meet with nothing bitter, in consequence of his religious profession, he has great reason to suspect that he is not in the narrow way ; yet many argue against them- selves, on account of those very trials, which are a favourable token in their behalf. But, on the other hand, the believer has ' a joy that a strangei intermeddleth not with,' which counterbalances all his sorrows so that even in this life he possesses more solid satisfaction than they do, who choose the road to destruction from fear of the difficulties attending the way of life. Satan is, however, peculiarly successful in persuading men, that religion, the very essence of heavenly happiness, will make them miserable on earth ; and that sin, the source of all the misery in the uni- verse, will make them happy ! By such manifest lies does this old mur- derer support his cause ! 358 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. late under much exercise in my soul about the death of your father ; not for that I doubt at all of his happiness, for I am satisfied now that he is well. I have also been much affected with the thoughts of mine own estate and yours, which I verily believe is by nature miserable. My carriage also to your father in his distress is u great load to my conscience, for I hardened both mine own heart and yours against him, and refused to go with him on pilgrimage. The thoughts of these things would now kill me out- right, but that for a dream which I had last night, and but that for the encouragement this stranger has given me this morning. Come, my children, let us pack up, and be gone to the gate that leads to that Celestial country, that we may see your father, and be with him and his companions in peace, according to the laws of that land. Then did her children burst out into tears, for joy that the heart, of their mother was so inclined. So their visitor bid them farewell; and they began to prepare to set out for their journey. But, while they were thus about to be gone, two of TiMORODs AND thc womcu, that were Christiana's neigh- MERCYCOMETOVl- SIT CHRISTIANA, bours, cauic up to her house, and knocked at her door. To whom she said as before. If you come lanou?ge''^'stVn'I in God's name, come in. At this the HER OLD NEIGH- . i /» a1 • 1 • J f 1 BODRs. women were stunned, tor this kmd oi lan- guage they used not to hear, or to perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana, Yet they came in : but behold, they found the good woman preparing to be gone from her house. So they began, and said. Neighbour, pray what is your meaning by this ? THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 359 Christiana answered and said to the eldest of them, whose name was Mrs. Timorous, I am preparing for a journey. (This Timorous was daughter to him that met Christian upon the hill of Difficulty, and would have had him go back for fear of the lions.) Tim. For what journey, I pray you ? Chr. Even to go after my good husband. And with that she fell a weeping. Tim. I hope not so, good neighbour ; pray, for youi poor children's sake, do not so unwomanly cast away yourself. Chr. Nay, my children shall go with me ; not one of them is willing to stay behind. Tim. I wonder in my very heart, what or who has brought you into this mind. Chr. O neighbour, knew you but as much as I do, I doubt not but that you would go along with me. Tim. Pr'ythee, what new knowledge hast thou got, that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that tempteth thee to go nobody knows where ? Then Christiana replied, I have been sorely afflicted since my husband's departure from me ; but especially since he went over the river. But that which death. troubleth me most, is my churlish carriage to him, when he was under distress. Besides, I am now as he was then ; nothing will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I was dreaming last night that I saw him. O that my soul was with him ! He dwelleth in the presence of the King of the country ; he sits and eats with him at his table ; he is become a companion of immortals ; and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the best palace on earth, if compared, seems to me but as a dunghill.' The Prince of the place has also sent for 1 2 Cor V. 1—4. THE REASONINGS OF THE FLESH. 360 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. me, with promise of entertainment, if I shall come to him : his messenger was here even now, and has brought me a letter, which invites me to come. And with that she plucked out her letter, and read it, and said to them. What now will you say to this ? Tim. Oh, the madness that has possessed thee and thy husband, to run yourselves upon such difficulties ! You have heard, I am sure, what your husband did meet with, even in a manner at the first step that he took on his way, as our neighbour Obstinate can yet testify, for he went along with him ; yea, and Pliable too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any further. We also heard, over and above, how he met with the lions, Apollyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is the danger that he met with at Vanity Fair to be forgotten by thee. For if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what canst thou, being but a poor woman, do ? Con- sider also, that these four sweet babes are thy children, thy flesh, and thy bones. Wherefore, though thou shouldest be so rash as to cast away thyself; yet for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep thou at home. But Christiana said unto her. Tempt me not, my neighbour : I have now a price put into my hand to get gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest size if I should have no heart to strike in with the opportunity. And for that you tell me of all these troubles that I am A PERTINENT RE- Hkc to mcct witli in the way, they are so PLY TO FLESHLY RK^soNiNo. f^j. fj^om being to me a discouragement, that they show I am in the right. " The bitter must come before the sweet," and that also will make the sweet the sweeter. Wherefore since you came not to my house in God's name, as I said, I pray you to be ^one, and not to disquiet me further. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 361 Then Timorous reviled her, and said to her fellow, Come, neighbour Mercy, let us leave her in her own hands, since she scorns our counsel and company. But Mercy was at a stand, and could not so readily comply with her neighbour; and that for a twofold reason. 1. Her bowels yearned over Christiana, mercy's bowels •^ YEARNOVERCHRIS- So she said within herself. If my neigh- ti^na. hour will needs be gone, I will go a little way with her, and help her. 2. Her bowels yearned over her own soul; for what Christiana had said, had taken some hold upon her mind. Wherefore she said within her- self again, I will yet have more talk with this Chris- tiana ; and, if I find truth and life in what she shall say, myself with my heart shall also go with her.* Wherefore Mercy began thus to reply to her neighbour Timorous. Mer. Neighbour, I did indeed come with you to see Christiana this morning ; and, since she is, as you see, a taking her last farewell of the country, I think to walk this sunshiny morning a little with her, to help her on her way. But she told her not of her second reason, but kept it to herself. Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a fooling too ; but take heed in time, and be wise : while we are * The very things which excite the rage and scorn of some persons, pen- etrate the hearts and consciences of otliers. Thus the Lord makes one to differ from another, by preparing the heart to receive the good seed of divine truth, which is sown in it; yet every one willingly chooses the way he tai i • Ly EVER SET OCT. this manner. JJut now we are m, we are in, and I am glad with all my heart. Mer. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard: I hope he will not take it amiss. Do so, said the children, and persuade him to hang him, for we are afraid he will bite us a'fIiaid oVthedo^^ when we go hence. So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on her face before him, and wor- shipped, and said, " Let my Lord accept the sacrifice of praise which I now offer unto him with the calves of my lips." So he said unto her. Peace be to thee ; stand up. But she continued upon her face, and said, " Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee ; yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments :"* wherefore dost thou keep so cruel a doo; in thy yard, at the mercy exposto- ^ _ ^ "^ '' latesaboutthe sight of which such women and children ''°°- as we, are ready to flee from thy gate for fear? t Jer. xii. 1, 2. * Could soldiers, when tliey enlist, foresee all the dangers and hardships to be encountered ; or could mariners, when about to set sail, be fully aware of all the difficulties of the voyage ; their reluctancy or discouragement would be increased by the prospect. But, when they have engaged, they find it impossible to recede ; and thus they press forward through one labour and peril after another, till the campaign or voyage be accomplished. Thus it is with the Christian : but they strive for corrupiible things, which they may never live to obtain ; while he seeks for an incorruptible crown of glory, of which no event can deprive him. If he knew all from the first, it would be his only wisdom to venture : whereas the case with them is often widely different. 376 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. He answered and said, That dog has another owner THE DEVIL, he also is kept close in another man's ground, only my pilgrims hear his barking : he belongs to the castle which you see there at a distance, but can come up to the walls of this place. He has frighted many an honest pilgrim from worse to better, by the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owneth him doth not keep him out of any good-will to me or mine, but with intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be afraid to come and knock at this gate for entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some that I loved ; but I take all at present patiently. I also give my pilgrims timely help, so that they are not delivered to his power, to do with them what his doggish nature would prompt him to. But what ! my purchased one, I trow, hadst thou known never so much beforehand, thou wouldest not have been afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door, will, rather than lose a sup- posed alms, run the hazard of the bawl- ing, barking, and biting too, of a dog ; and shall a dog, a dog in another man's yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the profit of pilgrims, keep any from coming to me? I deliver them from the lions, and "my darling from the power of the dog.'"^ Then said Mercy, I confesss my ignorance : I spake ^^. what I understood not : I acknowledge that thou dost all things well. Then Christiana began to talk of their journey, and to inquire after the way. So he fed them, and washed their feet, and set them in the way of his steps, accord- ing as he had dealt with her husband before. A. CHECK TO THE CARNAL FEAR OF THE PILGRIMS. CHRISTIANS, WH WISE E NOT) OH, ACQ ESCE IN THE WISDOM OF THEIR LORD. u Psalin xxii. 20, 21. THE PILGRIlVrS PROGRESS. 377 So I saw in my dream, that they walked on their way ; and had the weather very comfortable to them. Then Christiana began to sing, saying, Blest be the day that I began A pilgrim for to be ; And blessed also be that man That thereto moved me. 'Tis true, 'twas long ere I began To seek to live for ever : But novi? I run fast as I can ; 'Tis better late than never. Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, Are turned, as we see ; Thus our beginning (as one saith) Shows what our end will be. Now, there was on the other side of the wall, that fenced in the way up which Christiana and ^he devil-s her companions were to go, a garden, and that garden belonged to him whose was that barking dog, of whom mention was made before. And some of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden shot their branches over the wall ; and being mellow, they that found them did gather them up, and eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana's boys, (as boys are apt to do,) being pleased with the trees, and the children ■' Ol EATOFTHEEME- with the fruit that did hang thereon, did =«^'« "•^'"t- pluck them, and began to eat. Their mother did aiso chide them for so doing, but still the boys went on.* * The terrifying suggestions of Satan give believers much present uneasi- ness ; yet they often do them great good, and seldom eventually hurt them : but the allurements of those worldly objects which he throws in their way, are far more dangerous and pernicious. Many of these, for which the aged have no longer any relish, are very attractive to young persons : but, ail those parents or aged persons, who love the souls of their children and young frienas, mstead of conniving at them in their self-indulgence, from a notion, 2X TWO ILL-FAV ONES ASSADLT CHRLS TIANA AND MERCY. 378 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Well, said she, my sons, you transgress, for thai fruit is none of ours: but she did not know that it belonged to the enemy. I'll warrant you, if she had, she would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on their way. Now, by that they were gone about two bow-shots from the place that led them into the way, they spied two very ill-favoured ones coming down apace to meet them. With that, Christiana, and Mercy her friend, covered themselves with their veils, and so kept on their journey: the children also went on before ; so that at last they met ouRED together. Then they that came down to meet them, came just up to the women, as if they would embrace them : but Christiana said. Stand back, or go peaceably as you should. Yet these two, as men that are deaf, regarded not Christi- ana's words, but began to lay hands upon them : at that Christiana waxing very wroth, spurned at them with her feet. Mercy also, as well as she could, did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them. Stand back, and be gone, for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you see, and such too as live upon the charity of our friends. Then said one of the two men. We make no assault on you for money, but are come out to tell you, that if you will but grant one small request we shall ask, we will make women of you for ever. that allowance must be made for youth, should employ all their influence and authority to restrain them from those vain pleasures which ' war against the soul,' and are most dangerous wlien least suspected. This fruit may be found in the Pilgrim's path ; but it grows in Beelzebub's garden, and should be shunned as poison. Many diversions and pursuits, both in high and low life, are of this nature, though often pleaded for as innocent, by some persons who ought to know better. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 379 Now Christiana, imagining what they should mean, made answer again. We will neither hear, nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. We are in haste, and cannot stay; our business is a business of life and death. So again she and her companion made a fresh essay to go past them : but they letted them in their way. And they said, We intend no hurt to your lives ,• 'tis another thing we would have. Ay, quoth Christiana, you would have us body and soul, for I know 'tis for that you are she cries odt. come; but we will die rather upon the spot, than to suffer ourselves to be brought into such snares as shall hazard our well-being hereafter. And wath that they both shrieked out, and cried, Murder! murder! and so put themselves under those laws that are provided for the protection of women.'' But the men still made their approach upon them, with design to prevail against them. They therefore cried out again. Now they being, as I said, not far from the gate in at which they came, their voice was it is good to crt '' OUT WHEN WE ARB heard from whence they were, thither: ^ss^di-ted. wherefore some of the house came out, and knowing that it was Christiana's tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the women were in a very great scuffle : the children also stood crying by. Then did he that came in for their relief call out to the ruf- fians, saying. What is that thing you do ? Would you make my Lord's people to transgress ? He also attempted to take them: but they did the ill ones pn •*■ TO THE DEVIL FOR make their escape over the wall into the ^^'^'^'^^ garden of the man to whom the great dog belonged , THE RELIEVER COMES. V Deut. xsii. 25—27. 380 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. SO the dog became their protector. This Reliever then came up to the women, and asked them how they did So they answered, We thank thy Prince, pretty well, only we have been somewhat affrighted ; we thank thee also, that thou earnest in to our help, otherwise we had been overcome. So, after a few more words, this Reliever said as THE RELIEVER followcth: I marvclled much, when you TALKS TO THE •' ^°"'^''- were entertained at the gate above, being ye knew that ye were but weak women, that you petitioned not the Lord for a conductor; then MARK this! might you have avoided these troubles and dangers; for he would have granted you one. Alas ! said Christiana, we were so taken with our present blessing, that dangers to come were forgotten by us : beside, who could have thought, that so near the King's palace there could have lurked such naughty ones ? Indeed, it had been well for us, had we asked our Lord for one ; but, since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us. Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things not osE FOR NOT ^skcd for, lest by so doing they become of little esteem ; but when the want of a thing is felt, it then comes under, in the eyes of him that feels it, that estimate that properly is its due, and so consequently will be thereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would not either so have bewailed that oversight of yours in not asking for one, as now you have occasion to do. So all things work for good, and tend to make you more wary.* * Satan designs, by every means, to take off awakened sinners from the great concern of eternal salvation; and he makes use of ungodly men foi that purpose, among his manifold devices against the female sex. These WE L ASKING FOR THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 381 Chr. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and con- fess our folly, and ask one ? Rel. Your confession of your folly I will present him with : to go back again, you need not, for in all places where you shall come, you shall find no want at all ; for in every one of my Lord's lodgings, which he has prepared for the reception of his pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all attempts whatso- ever. But, as I said, " he will be inquired of by them, to do it for them.""' And 'tis a poor thing that is not worth askinof for. When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the pilgrims went on their way. Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is here ? I made account that we had been past oF^^fE'^R^Y.''' '''''' all danger, and that we should never see sorrow more. Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to Mercy, may excuse thee much ; but as for me, my guil?.'''''^'*''^' fault is so much the greater, for that I saw this danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it when provision might have been had. I am much to be blamed. w Ezek. xxxvi. 37. are very ill-favoured to the gracious mind ; however alluring their persons, circumstances, or proposals may be to the carnal eye. As such vile seducers are too often successful, they are emboldened to attempt even those who profess to be religious : nor are they always repulsed by them ; for, many, of whom favourable hopes were once entertained, have thus awfully ' been again entangled and overcome, so that their last state has been worse than the first.' But when such proposals are repulsed with decided abhorrence, and earnest prayers, the Lord will give deliverance and victory. The faithful admonitions and warnings of a stated pastor are especially intended by the Conductor. The Reliever seems to represent the occasional direc tion and good counsel of some able minister ; for he speaks of Christ, as his Lord, and must therefore be considered as one of the servants by whom help is sent to the distressed. 382 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then said Mercy, How knew you this before you came from home ? Pray open to me this riddle. Chr. Why, I will tell you. — Before I set foot out CHRISTIANA'S of doors, ouc night, as I la}^ in my bed, DREAMREPEATED. I"! 1 1 1 !• C- 1 1 1 had a dream about this : tor methought I saw two men, as like these as ever any in the world could look, stand at my bed's feet, plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very words : they said, ('twas when I was in my troubles,) What shall we do with this woman ? for she cries out, waking and sleeping, for forgiveness. If she be suf- fered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husband. This, you know, might have made me take heed, and have provided when provision might have been had. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an MERCY MAKES GOOD occasiou miuistcrcd unto us to behold OSE OF THEIR NE- GLECT OF DOTY. Qm- Q^jj imperfections, so our Lord has taken occasion thereby to make manifest the riches of his grace ; for he, as w^e see, has followed us with unasked kindness, and has dehvered us from their hands that were stronger than w^e, of his mere good pleasure. Thus now, when they had talked away a little more time, they drew near to a house that stood in the way, which house was built for the relief of pilgrims, as you will find more fully related in the First Part of these records of the Pilgrim's Progress. So they drew on towards the house, (the house of the Interpreter ;) and when they came to the door, they heard a great talk in the house. Then they gave ear, and heard, as they thought, Christiana mentioned by name ; for you must know TALK IN THE IN- TERPRETER'S HOUSE A BOOT CHUISTI ana's OOINO ON PILGRIM- AGE. SHE KNOCKS AT THE DOOR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 383 that there went along, even before her, a talk of her and her children's going on pilgrimage. And this was the most pleasing to them, because they had heard that she was Christian's wife, that woman who was, some time ago, so unwilling to hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they stood still, and heard the good people within commending her, who they little thought stood at the door. At last Christiana knocked, as she had done at the gate before. Now, when she had knocked, there came to the door a young damsel, and opened the the door isopen- •^ " » ED TO THEM BY door, and looked, and behold, two women inn'^cent. were there. Then said the damsel to them. With whom would you speak in this place ? Christiana answered. We understand that this is a privileged place for those that are become pilgrims, and we now at this door are such ; wherefore we pray that we may be partakers of that for which we at this time are come ; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are loath to-night to go any further. Dam. Pray, what may I call your name, that I may tell it to my Lord within ? Chr. My name is Christiana ; I was the wife of that pilgrim that some years ago did travel this way ; and these be his four children. This maiden also is my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too. Then Innocent ran in, (for that was her name,) and said to those within. Can you think who is at the door ? There is Christiana, and her children, and her com- panion, all waiting for entertainment here ! jot in the hdosb mi yl 1 1 r • 1 J 1 OF THE interpre- Inen they leaped tor loy, and went and ter thai chris- •' i '> '' TIANA IS TDRNEE told their Master. So he came to the ^'^°^^^- 384 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. door, and, looking upon her, he said. Art thou that Christiana whom Christian the good man left behind him, when he betook himself to a pilgrim's life? Chr. I am that woman, that was so hard-hearted as to slight my husband's troubles, and that left him to go on his journey alone ; and these are his four children : but now I also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but this. Inter. Then is fulfilled that which is written of the man that said to his son, " Go, work to-day in my vineyard : and he said to his father, I will not ; but afterwards repented, and went."* Then said Christiana, So be it : Amen. God make it a true saying upon me, and grant that I may be found at the last of him in peace, without spot, and blameless ! Inter. But why standest thou thus at the door? Come in, thou daughter of Abraham : we were talking of thee but now, for tidings have come to us before, how thou art become a pilgrim. Come, children, come in ; come, maiden, come in ! So he had them all into the house. So, when they were within, they were bidden to sit down and rest them ; the which when they had done, those that attended upon the pilgrims in the house came into the room to see them. And one smiled, and an- NTs GLAD other smiled, and they all smiled, for ioy that Christiana was become a pilgrim. They also looked upon the boys ; they stroked them over their faces with the hand, in token of their kind recep- tion of them : they also carried it lovingly to Mercy, and bid them all welcome into their Master's house. OLD SAI TO SEE THE YOONG ONESWALK INGOD'S WAYS. X Matt. xxi. 28, 29. THE SIGNIFICANT ROOMS. THE MAN WITH THE MUCK-RAKE THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 385 After a while, because supper was not ready, the Interpreter took them into his Significant Rooms, and showed them what Christian, Christiana's husband, had seen some time before. Here, therefore, they saw the man in the cage, the man and his dream, the man that cut his way through his ene- mies, and the picture of the biggest of them all ; together with the rest of those things that were then so profitable to Christian. This done, and after those things had been somewhat digested by Christiana and her company, the Interpreter takes them apart again, and has them first into a room where was a man that could look no way but downwards, with a muck-rake in his expounded. hand. There stood also one over his head with a celestial crown in his hand, and proflfered him that crown for his muck-rake ; but the man did neither look up nor regard, but raked to himself the straws, the small sticks, and dust of the floor. Then said Christiana, I persuade myself, that I know somewhat the meaning of this ; for this is a figure of a man of this world: is it not, good sir? Thou hast said right, said he, and his muck-rake doth show his carnal mind. And, whereas thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than to do what He says that calls to him from above, with the celestial crown in hia hand ; it is to show, that heaven is but as a fable to some, and that things here are counted the only things substantial. Now, whereas it was also showed thee, that the man could look no way but downwards, it is to let thee know, that earthly things, when they are with power upon men's minds, quite carry their hearts away from God. 2Y 386 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. CHRISTIANA'S Then said Christiana, O deliver me PRATER AGAINST THE MDCK-RAKE. fj,Qjjj ^j^jg Hiuck-rake ! That prayer, said the Interpreter, has lain by till it is almost rusty : " Give me not riches," is scarce the prayer of one in ten thousand/ Straws, and sticks, and dust, with most, are the great things now looked after.* With that Christiana and Mercy wept, and said. It is, alas ! too true. When the Interpreter had showed them this, he had them into the very best room in the house, (a very brave room it was :) so he bid them look round about and see if they could find any thing profitable there. Then they looked round and round, for there was no- OF THE SPIDER, thiug to bc sccn but a very great spider on the wall ; and that they overlooked. Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing ; but Christiana held her peace. But, said the Interpreter, look again : she therefore ■^ttEspMll^ looked again, and said. Here is not any thing but an ugly spider, who hangs by her hands upon the wall. Then, said he. Is there but one spider in all this spacious room ? Then the water stood in Christiana's eyes, for she was a woman quick of apprehension : and she said. Yea, Lord, there is more here than one ; yea, and spiders whose venom is far more destructive than that which is in her. The Interpreter then looked y Prov. XXX. 8. * The emblematical instruction at the Interpreter's house, in the former part, was so important and comprehensive, that no other selection equally- interesting' could be e.xpected : some valuable hints, however, are here ad duced. The first emblem is very plain ; and so apposite, that it is wonderful any person should read it without lifting up a prayer to the Lord, and saying, • O ! deliver me from this muck-rake.' Yet, alas, it is to be feared, such prayers are still little used even by professors of the gospel ; at least they are contradicted by the habitual conduct of numbers among them ; and this may properly lead us to weep over others, and tremble for ourselves. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 387 pleasantly on her, and said, Thou hast said the truth. This made Mercy to blush, and the boys to cover their faces ; for they all began now to understand the riddle. Then said the Interpreter again, " The spider taketh hold with her hands, (as you see,) and is in kings' palaces." And wherefore is this recorded, but to show you, that, how full of the venom of sin soever you be, yet you may, by the hand of faith, lay hold of, and dwell in, the best room that belongs to the King's house above ? I thought, said Christiana, of something of this ; but I could not imagine it at all. I thought that we were like spiders, and that we looked like ugly creatures, in what fine rooms soever we were; but that by this spider, that venomous and ill-favoured creature, we were to learn how to act faith, that came not into my thoughts ; and yet she had taken hold with her hands, and, as I see, dwelleth in the best room in the house. — God has made nothino; in vain.* Then they seemed all to be glad ; but the watei * The instruction grounded on accommodation of Scripture, though solid and important, is not so convincing to the understanding, as that which results from the obvious meaning of the words ; though many persons are for the time more excited to attention, by a lively exercise of the imagina- tion, and the surprise of unexpected inferences. This method, however, should be used with great caution by the friends of truth ; for it is a most formidable engine in the hands of those, who endeavour to pervert or oppose it. The author did not, however, mean by the emblem of the spider, that the sinner might confidently assure himself of salvation, by the blood of Christ, while he continued full of the poison of sin, without experiencing or evidencing any change ; but only, that no consciousness of inward pollu- tion, or actual guilt, should discourage any one from applying to Christ, and '■fleeing for refuge to lay hold on the hope set before him,' that thus he may be delivered from condemnation, and cleansed from pollution, and so made meet for those blessed mansions, into which no unclean thing can (ind admission. OF THE HEN A CHICKENS. 388 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. stood in their eyes; yet they looked one upon another and also bowed before the Interpreter. He had them then into another room, where was a hen ND and chickens, and bid them observe a while. So one of the chickens went to the trough to drink, and every time she drank she lifted up her head and her eyes towards heaven. See, said he, what this little chick doth, and learn of her to acknowledge whence your mercies come, by receiving them with looking up. Yet again, said he, observe and look ; so they gave heed, and perceived that the hen did walk in a fourfold method towards her chickens. 1. She had a common call, and that she hath all the day long. 2. She had a special call, and that she had but sometimes. 3. She had a brooding note. And, 4. she had an outcry.'' Now, said he, compare this hen to your King, and these chickens to his obedient ones. For, answerable to her, himself has his methods, which he walketh in towards his people. By his common call he gives nothing; by his special call he always has something to give ; he has also a brooding voice for them that are under his wing ; and he has an outcry, to give the alarm when he seeth the enemy come. I choose, my darlings, to lead you into the room where such things are, because you are women, and they are easy for you.* z Matt, xsiii. 37. * Our Lord hath, in immense condescension, employed this emblem, to represent his tender love to his people, for whom he bare the storm of wrath himself, that they might be safe and happy under ' the shadow of his wings.' (Matt, xxiii. 37.) The common call signifies the general invitations of the gospel, which should be addressed without restriction, to all men that come under the sound of it ; • as many as ye find, bid to the marriage.' The special call denotes those influences of the Spirit, by which tne heart is F THE BUT CHER AND THE SHEEP. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 389 And, sir, said Christiana, pray let us see some niore. So he had them into the slaughter-house, where was a butcher killing a sheep : and, behold, the „ sheep was quiet, and took her death patiently. Then said the Interpreter, You must learn of this sheep to suffer, and to put up with wrongs with out murmurings and complaints. Behold how quietly she takes her death, and, without objecting, she suf- fereth her skin to be pulled over her ears. Your King doth call you his sheep. x4fter this, he led them into his garden, where was great variety of flowers ; and he said, Do of the garden, you see all these? So Christiana said. Yes. Then said he again, Behold, the flowers are diverse in stature, in quality, and colour, and smell, and virtue : and some are better than others ,♦ also, where the gar- dener hath set them, there they stand, and quarrel not one with another.* Again, he had them into his field, which he had sown sweetly made willing to embrace the invitation, and apply for the blessing, in the use of the appointed means, by which sinners actually experience the accomplishment of the promises, as their circumstances require. The brooding note was intended to represent that communion with God, and those consolations of the Holy Spirit, which the Scriptures encourage us to expect, and by which the believer is trained up for eternal felicity : whilst the out-cry refers to the warnings and cautions, by which believers are excited to vigilance, circumspection, and self-examination, and to beware of all deceivers and delusions. * We ought not to be contented, (so to speak,) with a situation among the useless and noxious weeds of the desert : but if we be planted among the ornamental and fragrant flowers of the Lord's garden, we may deem our- selves sufficiently distinguished and honoured. We should, therefore, watch against envy and ambition, contempt of our brethren, and contention. We ought to be satisfied in our place, doing ' nothing through strife or vain- glory,' or ' with murmurings and disputings :' but endeavouring, in the meekness of wisdom, to diffuse a heavenly fragrance around us, and 'to adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things.' OF THE ROBIN A THE SPIDER. 390 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. OP THE FIELD, wlth wliGat aDcl corn : but when they beheld, the tops of all were cut off, only the straw remained He said again, This ground was dunged, and ploughed, and sowed ; but what shall we do wdth the crop ? Then said Christiana, Burn some, and make muck of the rest. Then said the Interpreter again. Fruit, you see, is that thing you look for, and for want of that you condemn it to the fire, and to be trodden under foot of men : beware that in this you condemn not yourselves.* Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they K„ spied a little robin with a great spider in his mouth : so the Interpreter said. Look here. So they looked, and Mercy wondered ; but Christiana said, What a disparagement is it to such a pretty little bird as the robin-redbreast ; he being also a bird, above many, that loveth to maintain a kind of sociableness with men ! I had thought they had lived upon crumbs of bread, or upon such other harmless matter : I like him worse than I did. The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an em- blem, very apt to set forth some professors by ; for to sight they are, as this robin, pretty of note, colour, and carriage ; they seem also to have a very great love for professors that are sincere ; and, above all others, to * The labour and expense of the husbandman are not repaid by the straw or the chaff, but by the corn. The humiliation and sufferings of Christ, the publication of the gospel, the promises and instituted ordinances, and the labour of ministers, were not intended merely to bring men to profess cer- tain doctrines, and observe certain forms; or even to produce convictions, affections, or comforts, in any order or degree whatsoever ; but to render men fruitful in good works, by the influences of the Spirit of Clirist, and through his sanctifying truth: and all profession will terminate in ever- lasting contempt and misery, which is not productive of this good fruit, whatever men may pretend, or however they may deceive themselves and one another, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 391 desire to associate with them, and to be in their com- pany, as if they could hve upon the good man's crumbs. They pretend also, that therefore it is that they fre- quent the house of the godly, and the appointments ot the Lord : but when they are by themselves, as the robin, they can catch and gobble up spiders, they can change their diet, drink iniquity, and swallow down sin like water. So when they were come again into the house, because supper as yet was not ready, Christiana aofain desired that the Inter- Zl\''.^^it:^ ''^,tl WHICH VET LIES DNREVEALEO. preter would either show or tell some other things that are profitable. Then the Interpreter began, and said: The fatter the sow is, the more she desires the mire ; the fatter the ox is, the more gamesomely he goes to the slaughter; and the more healthy the lustful man is, the more prone is he unto evil. There is a desire in women to go neat and fine : and it is a comely thing to be adorned with that which in God's sight is of great price. 'Tis easier watching a night or two, than to sit up a whole year together : so 'tis easier for one to begin to profess well, than to hold out as he shotild to the end. Every shipmaster, when in a storm, will willingly cast that overboard that is of the smallest value in the vessel : but who will throw the best out first ? None but he that feareth not God. One leak will sink a ship : and one sin will destroy a sinner.* * By repentance and faith in Christ, the leaks that sin hath made, are, as it were, stopped ; but one sin, habitually committed with allowance, proves a man's profession hypocritical, however plausible it may be in all other respects ; as one leak unstopped will assuredly at length sink the ship. 392 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. He that forgets his friend, is ungrateful unto him , but he that forgets his Saviour is unmerciful to himself. He that lives 'in sin, and looks for happiness here- after, is like him that soweth cockle, and thinks to fill his barn with wheat or barley. If a man would live well, let him fetch his last day to him, and make it always his company-keeper. Whispering and change of thoughts prove that sin is in the world. If the world, which God sets light by, is counted a thing of that worth with men; what is heaven, that God commendeth ? If the life that is attended with so many troubles, is so loath to be let go by us, what is the life above ? Every body will cry up the goodness of men ; but who is there, that is, as he should be, affected with the goodness of God ? We seldom sit down to meat, but we eat and leave : so there is in Jesus Christ more merit and righteous- ness than the whole world has need of.* When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out into his garden again, and had them to a tree, whose inside was all rotten and gone, and yet it grew and had leaves. Then said Mercy, What means this ? This tree, (said he,) whose * This observation is grounded on the good old distinction, that the merit of Christ's obedience unto death is sufficient for all, though only effectual to some ; namely, in one view of the subject, to the elect : in another, to all who by faith apply for an interest in it. This makes way for general invitations, and shows it to be every one's duty to repent and believe the gospel ; as nothing but pride, the carnal mind, and enmity to God and reli- gion, influence men to neglect so great salvation ; and, when the regene- rating power of the Holy Spirit accompanies the word, sinners are made willing to accept the proffered mercy, and encouraged by the general invitations, which before they sinfully slighted. THE TREE THAT IS ROTTEN AT HEART. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 393 outside is fair, and whose inside is rotten, is it, to which many may be compared that are in the garden of God ; who with their mouths speak high in behalf of God, but in deed will do nothing for him ; whose leaves are fair, but their heart good for nothing, but to be tinder for the devil's tinder-box. Now supper was ready, the table spread, and all things set on the board; so they sat down and _^l\ll^^l did eat, when one had given thanks. And the Inter- preter did usually entertain those that lodged with him, with music at meals ; so the minstrels played. There was also one that did sing, and a very fine voice he had. His song was this — The Lord is only my support, And he that doth me feed ; How can I then want any thing Whereof I stand in need ] When the song and music was ended, the Interpre- ter asked Christiana, what it was that at first sdpper^'^ did move her thus to betake herself to a pilgrim's life. Christiana answered. First, the loss of my husband came into my mind, at which I was a repetition of •^ Christiana's expe- heartily grieved : but all that was but •^'■^■^f^- natural aflfection. Then, after that, came the troubles and pilgrimage of my husband into my mind, and also how like a churl I had carried it to him as to that. So guilt took hold of my mind, and would have drawn me into the pond ; but that opportunely I had a dream of the well-being of my husband, and a letter sent me by the King of that country where my husband dwells, to come to him. The dream and the letter together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced me to this way. Inter. But met you with no opposition before you set out of doors ? 2Z 394 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. Yes, a neighbour of mine, one Mrs. Timorous, (she was akin to him that would have persuaded my husband to go back, for fear of the hons,) she also so befooled me, for, as she called it, my intended desperate adventure ; she also urged what she could to dishearten me from it; the hardships and troubles that my husband met with in the way : but all this I got over pretty well. But a dream that I had of two ill-looking ones, that I thought did plot how to make me miscarry in my jour- ney, that hath troubled me much : yea, it still runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every one that I meet, lest they should meet me to do me a mischief, ana to turn me out of my way. Yea, I may tell my Lord, though I would not every body know it, that between this and the gate by which we got into the way, we were both so sorely assaulted, that we were made to cry out Murder ! and the two, that made this assault upon us, were like the two that I saw in my dream. Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is good, thy latter end shall greatly increase. So he addressed TO MERcy!"" "^ himself to Mercy, and said unto her. And what moved thee to come hither, sweet heart ? Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while continued silent. Then said he. Be not afraid, only believe, and speak thy mind. So she began, and said, Truly, sir, my want of ^sVwer'^ experience is that which makes me covet to be in silence, and that also that fills me with fears of coming short at last. I cannot tell of visions and dreams, as my friend Christiana can : nor know I what it is to mourn for my refusing of the counsel of those that were good relations. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 395 Inter. What was it then, dear heart, that hath pre- vailed with thee to do as thou hast done ? Mer. Why, when our friend here was packing up to be gone from our town, I and another went accidentally to see her. So we knocked at the door, and went in. When we were within, and seeing what she was doing, we asked her what was her meaning ? She said, she was sent for, to go to her husband ; and then she up and told us how she had seen him in a dream, dwelling in a curious place among immortals, wearing a crown, playing upon a harp, eating and drinking at his Prince's table, and singing praises to him for bringing him thither, &c. Now methought, while she was telling these things unto us, my heart burned within me. And I said in my heart. If this be true, I will leave my father and my mother, and the land of my nativity, and will, if I may, go along with Christiana. So I asked her further of the truth of these things, and if she would let me go with her : for I saw now, that there was no dwelling, but with the danger of ruin, any longer in our town. But yet I came away with a heavy heart; not for that I was unwilling to come away, but for that so many of my relations were left behind. And I am come with all the desire of my heart, and will go, if I may, with Christiana, unto her husband, and his King. Inter. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast given credit to the truth ;* thou art a Ruth, who did, for the * This is a most simple definition of faith : it is ' the belief of the truth,' as the sure testimony of God, relative to our most important concerns. When we thus credit those truths that teach us the peril of our situation as justly condemned sinners, we are moved with fear, and humbled in repentance ; and when we thus believe the report of a refuge provided for us, our hopes are excited. Those truths that relate to inestimable blessings attainable by 396 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. love she bare to Naomi, and to the Lord her God, leave father and mother, and the land of her nativity, to come out and go with a people that she knew not heretofore. " The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose wings thou art come to trust."* a Ruth ii. 11, 12. US, when really credited, kindle our fervent desires ; while such as show us the glory, excellency and mercy of God our Saviour, and our obligations to his redeeming grace, work by love, gratitude, and every fervent affection. This living faith influences a man's judgment, choice, and conduct; and especially induces him to receive Jesus Christ for all the purposes of salva- tion, and to yield himself to his service, as constrained by love of him and zeal for his glory. We need no other ground for this faith, than the authenticated word of God. This may be brought to our recollection by means of distress or danger, or even in a dream, or with some very strong impression on the mind : yet true faith rests only on the word of God, according to its meajiing as it stands in the Bible ; and not in the manner in which it occurs to the thoughts, or according to any new sense put upon it in a dream, or by an impression ; as this would be a new revelation. For if the words, ' Thy sins are forgiven thee,' should be impressed on mij mind, they would contain a declaration nowhere made in Scripture con- cerning me ; consequently the belief of them on this ground would be a faith not warranted by the word of God. Now as we have no reason to expect such new revelations, and as Satan can counterfeit any of these im- pressions, we must consider every thing of this kind as opening a door to enthusiasm, and the most dangerous delusions ; though many, who rest their confidence on them, have also scriptural evidence of their acceptance, which they overlook. On the other hand, should the following words be powerfully impressed on my mind, ' Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out,' or, 'He that confesseth and forsaketh his sin shall find mercy ;' I may deduce encouragement from the words, according to the genuine meaning of them as they stand in Scripture, without any dread of delusion, or any pretence to new revelations ; provided I be conscious, that I do come to Christ, and confess my sins with the sincere purpose of for- saking them. But there are so many dangers in this matter, that the more evidently our faith and hope are grounded wholly on the plain testimony of God, and confirmed by our subsequent experience and conduct ; the safer will our course be, and the less occasion will be given to the objections of our despisers. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 397 Now supper was ended, and preparation was made for bed : the women were laid singly alone they undress ^ •' THEMSELVES FOR and the boys by themselves. Now when ^'^"• Mercy was in bed, she could not sleep for joy, for that now her doubts of missing at last were re- „,'^^,t"re''st°'' moved further from her than ever they were before. So she lay blessing and praising God, who had such favour for her. In the morning they arose with the sun, and prepared themselves for their departure; but the Interpreter would have them tarry awhile ; For, said he, you must orderly go from hence. Then said he to the damsel that first opened unto them, Take them and have them into the garden to the bath, and there wash sk^^t^ficItioI them and make them clean from the soil which the}^ have gathered by travelling. Then Innocent the dam- sel took them, and led them into the garden, and brought them to the bath ; so she told them, that there they must wash and be clean, for so her Master would have the women to do, that called at his house as they were going on pilgrimage. Then they went i/Zt^^ ^'^'"^^ in and washed, yea, they and the boys and all ; and they came out of that bath not only sweet and clean, but also much enlivened and strengthened in their joints. So v^'hen they came in, they looked fairer a deal than when they went out to the washing. When they were returned out of the garden from the bath, the Interpreter took them, and looked upon them, and said unto them, " Fair as the moon." Then he called for the seal, wherewith they used to be sealed that were washed in his bath. So the seal was sI^lL!"^ brought, and he set his mark upon them, that they might be known in the places whither they were yet to 398 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. go. Now the seal was the contents and sum of the passover which the children of Israel did eat when they came out of the land of Egypt ; ^ and the mark was set between their eyes. This seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was an ornament to their faces. It also added to their gravity, and made their countenances more like those of angels.* Then said the Interpreter again to the damsel that waited upon these women. Go into the vestry, and fetch out garments for these people. So she went and fetched out white raiment, and laid it down before him ; clothed!''''' so he commanded them to put it on: it was " fine linen, white and clean." When the women were thus adorned, they seemed to be a terror one to the other ; for that they could not see that glory each one had in herself, which they could see in each other. avyiiliT-^. Now, therefore, they began to esteem each other better than themselves. For, You are fairer than I am, said one ; and. You are more comely than I am, ■ . b Exod. siii. 8—10. * The author calls this ' The Bath of sanctification,' in a marginal note : whence we may infer, that he especially meant to intimate, that believers should constantly seek fresh supplies of grace from the Holy Spirit, to purify their hearts from the renewed defilement of sin, which their intercourse with the world will continually occasion ; and to revive and invigorate those holy affections, which in the same manner are apt to grow languid. Yet he did not intend to exclude their habitual reliance on the blood of Christ for pardon and acceptance ; for in both respects we need daily washing. The sanctification of the Spirit unto obedience warrants the true Christian's ' peace and joy in believing ;' it gives him beauty in the sight of his brethren ; it strengthens him for every conflict, and service ; and the image of Christ, discernible in the spirit and conduct, seals him as a child of God and an heir of glory : while the inward consciousness of living by faith in the Son of God for all the blessings of salvation, and experiencing all filial affections towards God as his reconciled Father, inspires him with humble joy and confidence. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 399 said another. The children also stood amazed, to see into what fashion they were brought.* The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-heart, and bid him take a sword, and helmet, and shield; And take these my daughters, said he; conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at which place they will rest next.t So he took his weapons, and went before them; and the Interpreter said, God speed. Those also that belonged to the family sent them away with many a good wish. So they went on their way, and sang — This place hath been our second stage : Here we have heard and seen Those good things, that from age to age To others hid have been. The dunghill-raker, spider, hen, The chicken, too, to me Have taught a lesson : let me then Conformed to it be. * The Pilgrims are supposed to have been justified on their admission at the Gate ; the Interpreter is the emblem of the Holy Spirit ; and the raiment here mentioned rendered those who were adorned with it comely in the eyes of their companions. We cannot, therefore, with propriety explain it to signify the righteousness of Christ imputed to the believer, but the renewal of the soul to holiness ; for this alone in its effects is visible to the eyes of men. They, who have put on this raiment, are also ' clothed with humility :' so that they readily perceive the excellencies of other believers, but cannot discern their own, except when they look in the glass of God's word. At the same time they become very observant of their own defects, and severe in animadverting on them, but proportionably candid to their brethren : and thus they learn the hard lesson of' esteeming others better than themselves.' t The stated pastoral care of a vigilant minister, who is strong in faith, and courageous in the cause of God, is represented by the conductor of the Pilgrims. We shall have repeated opportunities of showing, how desirous the author was to recommend this advantage to his readers, to excite them to be thankful for it, and to avail themselves of it when graciously afforded them. 400 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. The butcher, garden, and the field, The robin and his bait, Also the rotten tree, doth yield Me argument of weight ; To move me for to watch and pray. To strive to be sincere : To take my cross up day by day. And serve the Lord with fear. Now I saw in my dream, that these went on, and Great-heart before them ; so they went, and came to the place where Christian's burden fell off his back, and tumbled into a sepulchre. Here then they made a pause; here also they blessed God. Now, said Chris- tiana, it comes to my mind what was said to us at the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon by word and deed ; by word, that is, by the promise ; by deed, to wit, in the way it was obtained. What the promise is, of that I know something: but what it is to have pardon by deed, or in the way that it was obtained, Mr. Great- heart, I suppose you know ; wherefore, if you please, let us hear your discourse thereof. Great. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained A COMMENT UPON bv somc ouc for another that hath need WHAT WAS SAID AT •' IfscouR Je" of"odr thereof: not by the person pardoned, but BEING J USTIFIED BY • ,1 • 1 .1 • I ■ 1 T CHRIST. m the way, saitn another, m which i have obtained it. So then, to speak to the question more at large, the pardon that you, and Mercy, and these boys have attained, was obtained by another ; to wit, by him that let you in at the gate : and he hath obtained it in this double way: he hath performed righteousness to cover you, and spilt his blood to wash you in. Chr. But if he parts with his righteousness to us, what will he have for himself? THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 401 Great. He has more righteousness than you have need of, or than he needeth himself. Chr. Pray make that appear. Great. With all my heart : but first I must premise, that He, of whom we are now about to speak, is one that has not his fellow. He has two natures in one person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be divided. Unto each of these natures a righteousness belongeth, and each righteousness is essential to that nature. So that one may as easily cause the natures to be extinct, as to separate its justice or righteousness from it. Of these righteousnesses, therefore, we are not made partakers, so as that they, or any of them, should be put upon us, that we might be made just, and live thereby. Besides these, there is a righteousness which this persoil has, as these two natures are joined in one. And this is not the righteousness of the Godhead, as distinguished from the manhood ; nor the righteousness of the manhood, as distinguished from the Godhead; but a righteousness which standeth in the union of both natures, and may properly be called the righteousness that is essential to his being prepared of God to the capacity of the mediatory office, which he was entrusted with. If he parts with his first righteousness, he parts with his Godhead : if he parts with his second right- eousness, he parts with the purity of his manhood : if he parts with his third, he parts with that perfection which capacitates him for the office of mediation. He has therefore another righteousness, which stand- eth in performance, or obedience to a revealed will: and that is what he puts upon sinners, and that by which their sins are covered. Wherefore he saith, " As by one man's disobedience many were made sin- 3A 402 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ners ; so by the obedience of one shall many be made righteous."" Chr. But are the other righteousnesses of no use to us ? Great. Yes; for though they are essential to his natures and offices, and cannot be communicated unto another, yet it is by virtue of them that the righteous- ness that justifies is for that purpose efficacious. The righteousness of his Godhead gives virtue to his obe- dience ; the righteousness of his manhood giveth capa- bility to his obedience to justify ; and the righteousness that standeth in the union of these two natures to his office, giveth authority to that righteousness to do the work for which it was ordained. So then here is a righteousness that Christ, as God, has no need of; for he is God without it. Here is a righteousness that Christ, as man, has no need of to make him so, for he is perfect man without it. Again, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God-man, has no need of, for he is perfectly so without it. Here then is a righteousness that Christ, as God, and as God-man, has no need of, with reference to himself, and therefore he can spare it ; a justifying righteousness, that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore giveth it away. Hence it is called " the gift of righteousness." This righteousness, since Christ Jesus the Lord has made himself under the law, must be given away ; for the law doth not only bind him that is under it, to do justly, but to use charity. Wherefore he must, or ought by the law, if he hath two coats, to give one to him that has none. Now, our Lord indeed hath two coats, one for himself, and one to spare: wherefore he freely c Bom. V. 19. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 403 bestows one upon those that have none. And thus, Christiana and Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth your pardon come by deed, or by the work of another man. Your Lord Christ is he that worked, and hath given away what he wrought for, to the next poor beggar he meets. But again, in order to pardon by deed, there must something be paid to God as a price, as well as some- thing prepared to cover us withal. Sin has delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous law : now from this curse we must be justified by way of redemption, a price being paid for the harms we have done ; and this is by the blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your place and stead, and died your death for your transgressions. Thus has he ransomed you from your transgressions by blood, and covered your polluted and deformed souls with righteousness f for the sake of which, God passeth by you, and will not hurt you when he comes to judge the world.* d Rom. viii. 34. Gal. iii. 13. * This discourse, on ' Pardon by the deed done,' confirms the interpretation that hath been given of the Cross, and of Christian's deliverance from his burden. The doctrine is, however, here stated in a manner to which some may object, and indeed it is needlessly systematical and rather obscure. By ' the righteousness of Christ, as God,' his essential divine attributes of justice and holiness must be intended. ' His righteousness, as Man,' denotes his human nature as free from all the defilements of sin. ' The righteousness of his person, as he hath the two natures joined in one,' can only mean the perfection of his mysterious person in all respects : and his capacity of acting as our Surety, by doing and suffering in our nature all that was requisite, while his divine nature stamped an infinite value on his obedience unto death. The eternal Word, the only begotten Son of God was under no obligation to assume our nature ; and when he had seen good to assume it, he was not bound to live a number of years here on earth, obedient to the law, both in its ceremonial and moral requirements, amidst hardships, sufferings, and temptations of every kind ; except, as he had undertaken to CH FECTE Way of REDEMP T I O N. 404 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. This is brave : now I see that there was some- RisTiANA AF- thing to be learned by our being pardoned ED WITH THIS '-' . *' ^ I by word and deed. Good Mercy, let us labour to keep this in mind ; and, my children, do you remember it also. But, sir, was not this it that made my good Christian's burden fall from off his shoulders, and that made him give three leaps for joy? Great. Yes, it was the behef of this that cut those HOW THE STRINGS striugs, that could not be cut bv other THAT BOUND CHRIS- '-' •' hIm^wereVut"! ^° means; and it was to give him a proof of the virtue of this, that he was suffered to carry his burden to the cross. Chr. I thought so ; for though my heart was light- some and joyous before, yet it is ten times more light- some and joyous now. And I am persuaded by what I have felt, (though I have felt but little as yet,) that if the most burdened man in the world was here, and did see and believe as I now do, it would make his heart the more merry and blithe. be our Surety. In this sense he himself had no need of that righteousness which he finished for our justification. And assuredly he was under no obliga- tion, as a perfectly holy man, to suffer any thing, much less to submit to the violent, torturing, and ignominious death upon the cross. That part of his obe- dience, which consisted in enduring agony, and pain in body and soul, was only needful, as he bare our sins, and gave himself a sacrifice to God for us. In- deed, his righteousness is not the less his own, by being imputed to us: for believers are considered as one with him, and thus ' made the righteousness of God in him,' and we are justified in virtue of this union. He was able by his temporal sufferings and death to pay our debts, and ransom our inher- itance; thus delivering us from eternal misery which else had been inevit- able, and bringing us to eternal life which had otherwise been unattainable; and the law of love, to which as a man he became subject, required him to do this; for if we 'loved our neighbour as ourselves,' we should be willing to submit to any inferior loss, hardship, or suffering, to rescue an enemy or stranger from a greater and more durable misery, which he lias no other way of escaping; or to secure to him a more valuable and permanent ad vantage which can no otherwise be obtained. FECTION TO S BEOQ1- IN THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 405 Great. There is not only comfort, and the ease of a burden brousrht to us, by the siojht and howaff " "^ ~ CHRIST I consideration of these, but an endeared ''"^ '°"'' affection begot in us by it ; for who can (if he doth but once think that pardon comes not only by promise, but thus,) but be affected with the way and means of his redemption, and so with the man that hath wrought it for him? Chr. True : methinks it makes my heart bleed to think that he should bleed for me. Oh, thou loving One ! Oh, thou blessed One ! Thou deservest to have me ; thou hast bought me ; thou deservest RfTi"o'N. "^ ''°'" to have me all ; thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am worth ! No marvel that this made the tears stand in my husband's eyes, and that it made him trudge so nimbly on ; I am persuaded he wished me with him ; but, vile wretch that I was, I let him come all alone. O Mercy, that thy father and mother were here ; yea, and Mrs. Timorous also : nay, I wish now with all my heart that here was Madam Wanton too. Surely, surely their hearts would be affected ; nor could the fear of the one, nor the pow- erful lusts of the other, prevail with them to go home again, and refuse to become good pilgrims.* * When believers, ' in the warmth of their affections,' feel the humbling, melting, endearing, and sanctifying effects of contemplating the glory of the Cross, and the love of Christ in dying for sinners ; and consider themselves as the special objects of that inexpressible compassion and kindness: they are apt to conclude that thebelief of the propositions, that Christ loves them and died for them, and that God is reconciled to them, produces the ciiange by its own influence : and would affect the most carnal hearts in the same manner, could men be persuaded to believe it. For they vainly imagine that apprehensions of the severity of divine justice, and the dread of ven- geance, are the sources of the enmity which sinners manifest against God. Hence very lively and aflfectionate Christians have frequently been prone to 406 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Great. You speak now in the warmth of your affec ■ tions: will it, think you, be always thus with you? Besides, this is not communicated to every one, nor to every one that did see your Jesus bleed. There were that stood by, and that saw the blood run from his heart sanction the unscriptural tenet, that the justifying act of faith consists in assuredly believing that Christ died for me in particular, and that God loves me; and to consider this appropriation as preceding repentance, and every other gracious disposition ; and as in some sense the cause of regen- eration, winning the heart to love God, and to rejoice in him, and in obeying his commandments. From this doctrine others have inferred, that if all men, and even devils too, believed the love of God to them, and his purpose at length to make them happy, they would be won over from rebellion against him, which they persist in from a mistaken idea that he is their im- placable enemy: and they make this one main argument, in support of the salutary tendency of the final restitution scheme. But all these opinions arise from a false and flattering estimate of human nature ; for the carnal mind hates the scriptural character of God and the glory displayed in the cross, even more than that which shines forth in the fiery law. Indeed if we take away the offensive part of the gospel, the honour it puts upon the law and its awful sanctions, and the exhibition it makes of the divine justice and holiness, it will give the proud carnal heart but little umbrage : if we admit that men's aversion to God and religion arises from misapprehension, and not from desperate wickedness, many will endure the doctrine. A re- conciliation, in which God assures the sinner that he has forgiven him, even before he has repented of his sins, will suit man's pride; and if he has been previously frighted, a great flow of aff'ections may follow: but the event will prove, that they diflfer essentially from spiritual love of God, gratitude, holy joy, and genuine humiliation, which arise from a true perception of the glorious perfections of God, the righteousness of his law and government, the real nature of redemption, and tiie odiousness and desert of sin. In short, all such schemes render regeneration needless, or substitute some- thing else in its stead, which is effected by a natural process, and not by the new-creating power of the Holy Spirit. But, when this divine agent has communicated life to the soul, and a capacity is produced of perceiving and relishing spiritual excellency, the enmity against God receives a mortal wound : from that season, tiie more his real character and glory are known, the greater spiritual affection will be excited, and a proportionable transfor- mation into the same holy image eff"ected. Then the view of the cross, as the grand display of all the harmonious perfections of the Godhead, softens, humbles, and meliorates the heart : while the persuasion of an interest in TO BE AFFECTED WITH CHRIST, AND WITH WHAT HE HAS DONE, 13 A THING SPECIAL. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 407 to the ground, and yet were so far off this, that, instead of lamenting, they laughed at him ; and, instead of ])ecoming his disciples, did harden their hearts against him. So that all that you have, my daughters, you have by peculiar im- pression made by a divine contem- plating upon what I have spoken to you. Remember, that 'twas told you, that the hen, by her common call, gives no meat to her chickens. This you have there- fore by a special grace. Now I saw in my dream, that they went on until they were come to the place that Simple, and Sloth, and Presumption, lay and slept in, when Christian went by on pilgrmiage : and, behold, they were hanged up in irons a little way off on the other side. Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and conductor, What are these three men ? simple, sloth, and PRESUMPTIONHANO- and for what are they hanged there? ="= ^''" "'"''• Great. These three men were men of bad qualities ; they had no mind to be pilgrims themselves, and whom- soever they could they hindered : they were sloth and folly themselves, and whomsoever they could persuade these blessings, and an admiring sense of having received such inconceiv- able favours from this glorious and holy Lord God, will still further elevate the soul above all low pursuits, and constrain it to the most unreserved and self-denying obedience. But, while the heart remains unregenerate, the glory of God and the gospel will either be misunderstood, or hated in pro- portion as it is discovered. Such views and affections therefore as have beet described, spring from special grace ; and are not produced by the natura. efficacy of any sentiments, but by the immediate influences of tlie Hol> Spirit; so that even true believers, though they habitually are persuaded of their interest in Christ, and the love of God to them, are only a* times thus filled with holy affections; nor will the same contemplations constantly excite similar exercises; but they often bestow much pains to get their minds affected by them in vain ; while at other times a single glance of thouo-ht fills them witli the most fervent emotions of holy love and joy. 408 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. they made so too ; and withal taught them to presume that they should do well at last. They were asleep when Christian went by ; and now you go by, they are hanged. Mer. But could they persuade any to be of their opinion ? Great. Yes, they turned several out of the way. THEIR CRIMES. Therc was Slow-pace, that they persuaded to do as they. They also prevailed with one Short- wind, with one No-heart, with one Linger-after-lust, and with one Sleepy-head, and with a young woman, her name was Dull, to turn out of the way, and become as they. Besides, they brought up an ill report of your Lord, persuading others that he was a hard taskmaster. They also brought up an evil report of the good land, saying, It was not half so good as some pretended it was. They also began to vilify his servants, and to count the best of them meddlesome, troublesome busy- bodies: further, they would call the bread of God, husks ; the comforts of his children, fancies ; the tra- vail and labour of pilgrims, things to no purpose.* Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they should * The dreadful falls and awful deaths of some professors are often made notorious, for a warning to others ; and to put them upon their guard against superficial, slothful, and presumptuous men, who draw aside many from the holy ways of God. The names of the persons thus deluded show the rea- sons wliy men listen to deceivers ; for these are only the occasions of their turning aside, the cause lies in the concealed lusts of their own hearts. The transition is very easy from ortliodox notions and profession without experience, to false and loose sentiments, and then to open ungodliness. These lines are here inserted under a plate : — Behold here how the slothful are a sign Hung up 'cause holy ways they did decline : See here too, how the child doth play the man, And weak grow strong, when Great-heart leads the van. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 409 never be bewailed by me: they have but what they deserve ; and I think it is well that they stand so near the highway, that others may see and take warning. But had it not been well if their crimes had been engraven in some plate of iron or brass, and left here where they did their mischiefs, for a caution to other bad men ? Great. So it is, as you may well perceive, if you will go a little to the wall. Mer. No, no ; let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live for ever against them : I think it is a high favour that they were hanged afore we came hither; who knows else what they might have done to such poor women as we are ? Then she turned it into a song, saying — Now then you three hang there, and be a sign To all that shall against the truth combine. And let him that comes after fear this end, If unto pilgrims he is not a friend. And thou, my soul, of all such men beware, That unto holiness opposers are. Thus they went on, till they came to the foot of the hill Difficulty, where again the good Mr. Great-heart took an occasion to tell them what happened there when Christian himself went by. So he had them first to the spring. Lo, said he, this is the spring that Christian drank of before he went up this hill ; and then it was clear and good, but now it is getti'no''of"oood dirty with the feet of some, that are not roneous times. desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst.® Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, trow ? But said their guide. It will do, if taken up and put into a vessel that is sweet and good ; for then the dirt will e Ezek. xsxiv. 18. 3B 410 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. sink to the bottom, and the water come out by itself more clear. Thus, therefore, Christiana and her com- panions were compelled to do. They took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand till the dirt was gone to the bottom, and then they drank thereof.* Next he showed them the two by-ways that were at the foot of the hill, where Formality and Hypocrisy lost themselves. And, said he, these are dangerous paths : two were here cast away when Christian came by. bIkk/t^^VC^ZH And although, as you see, these ways NOT KEEP ALL FROM • ^ -i •>! 1 • GOING IN THEM. arc smcc stopped up with chams, posts, and a ditch, yet there are those that will chose to adventure here, rather than take the pains to go up this hill. Chr. "The way of transgressors is hard:"^ it is a wonder that they can get into these ways without dan- ger of breaking their necks. Great. They will venture ; yea, if at any time any of the King's servants do happen to see them, and do call upon them, and tell them that they are in the wrong way, and do bid them beware of the danger, then they railingly return them answer, and say, " As for the word that thou hast spoken unto us in the name of the King, we will not hearken unto thee ; but we will f Prov. xiii. 15. * This passage shows, that the preaching of the gospel was especially intended by the springs in the former part of the work. Since that had been published, the author had witnessed a departure from the simplicity of the gospel, as it has been before observed. This might be done unadvisedly in those immediately concerned ; but it originated from the devices of evil men, and the subtlety of Satan. They, however, who honestly and care- fully aimed to distinguish between the precious and the vile, might separate the corrupt part from the truths of God, and from the latter derive comfort and establishment. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 411 certainly do whatsoever tiling goeth out of our own mouth." s Nay, if you look a little further, you shall ■see that these ways are made cautionary enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, and chain, but also by being hedged up ; yet they will choose to go there.* Chr. They are idle; they love not to take pains; up-hill way is unpleasant to them. So it thereasonwhy '■ '' -^ SOMEDOCHOOSK is fulfilled unto them as it is written, — ''° ''° "* •'v ^^^^s- " The way of the slothful man is an hedge of thorns." "^ Yea, they will rather choose to walk upon a snare, than to go up this hill, and the rest of this way to the City. Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill, and up the hill they went; but before pTLVo"/o7t' ^"' they got to the top, Christiana began to pant, and said, I dare say this is a breathing hill ; no marvel if they that love their ease more than their souls choose to themselves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must sit down ; also the least of the children began to cry. Come, come, said Great-heart, sit not down here, for a little above is the Prince's arbour. Then he took the little boy by the hand, and led him up thereto. When they were come to the arbour, they were very wilHng to sit down, for they were all in .L^oV^'" ""' a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, How sweet is rest g Jer. xliv. 16, 17. h Prov. sv. 19. * The express declarations, commandments and warnings of Scripture ; and the heart-searching doctrines and distinguishing application of faithful ministers, suiBciently hedge up all those by-ways, into which professors are tempted to turn aside : but carnal self-love, and desire of ease to the flesh (which always opposes its own crucifixion,) induce numbers to break through all obstacles, and to risk their eternal interests, rather than deny themselves, and endure hardship in the way to heaven. Nor will teachers be wanting to flatter them with the hope of being saved by notionally be lieving certain doctrines, while they practically treat the whole word of God as a lie ! 412 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. to them that labour!' And how good is the Prince of pilgrims, to provide such resting places for them ! Of this arbour I have heard much; but I never saw it before. But here let us beware of sleeping ; for as I have heard, it cost poor Christian dear. Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, Insw^'I^to ^the iny pretty boys, how do you do ? What GUIDE, AND ALSO .1 • 1 C • '1 ■ 't TO MERCY. thmk you now oi gomg on pilgrmiage i Sir, said the least, I was almost beat out of heart ; but I thank you for lending me a hand at my need. And I remember now what my mother hath told me, namely, that the way to heaven is as a ladder, and the way to hell is as down a hill. But I had rather go up the ladder to life, than down the hill to death. Then said Mercy, But the proverb is, " To go down the hill is easy." 'But James said, (for that was his name,) The day is coming, when, in my opinion, going down the hill will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a good boy, said his master; thou hast given her a right answer. Then Mercy smiled, but the little boy did blush. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, to sweeten J, your mouths, while you sit here to rest your legs ? For I have here a piece of pomegranate, which Mr. Interpreter put into my hand just when I came out of his door ; he gave me also a piece of an honey-comb, and a little bottle of spirits. I thought he gave you something, said Mercy, be- cause he called you aside. Yes, so he did, said the other. But, said Christiana, it shall be still as I said it should, when at first we came from home; thou shalt be a sharer in all the THEY REFRES THEMSELVES. i Matt. xi. 28. ANA FOR- GETS HER BOTTLE V SPIRITS. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 413 good that I have, because thou so willingly didst become my companion. Then she gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the boys. And said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, Sir, will you do as we ? But he answered. You are going on pilgrimage, and presently I shall return much good may what you have do you ! At home I eat the same every day. Now when they had eaten and drunk, and had chatted a little longer, their guide said to them, The day wears away ; if you think good, let us prepare to be going. So they got up to go, and the little boys went before; but Christiana forgot to take her bottle of christ spirits with her, so she sent her little boy ° back to fetch it. Then said Mercy, I think this is a losing place. Here Christian lost his roll; and here Christiana left her bottle behind her. Sir, what is the cause of this? So their guide made answer, and said. The cause is sleep, or forgetfulness : some sleep when they should keep awake, and some forget when they should remember ; and this is the very cause why often, at the resting-places, some pilgrims in some things come off losers. Pilgrims should watch, and remember what they have already received under their greatest enjoy- ments; but for want of doing so, oftentimes mark this! their rejoicing ends in tears, and their sunshine in a cloud ; — witness the story of Christian at this place. When they were come to the place where Mistrust and Timorous met Christian to persuade him to go back for fear of the lions, they perceived as it were a stage, and before it, towards the road, a broad plate, w ith a copy of verses written thereon ; and, underneath, 414 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. the reason of raising up of that stage in that place rendered. The verses were — Let him that sees this stage, take heed Unto his heart and tongue ; Lest, if he do not, here he speed As some have long agone. The words underneath the verses were, This stage was built to punish those upon, who, through timorous- ness or mistrust, shall be afraid to go further on pil- grimage : also on this stage both Mistrust and Timorous were burnt through the tongue with a hot iron, for endeavouring to hinder Christian on his journey. Then said Mercy, This is much like to the saying of the Beloved : " What shall be given unto thee, or what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue ? Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper.'""* So they went on, till they came within sight of the lions. Now Mr. Great-heart was a strong man, so he was not afraid of a lion : but yet when they were come AN EMBLEM OF Up to thc pkcc whcrc the lions were, the THOSETHATOOON, ,1. . t r lli BRAVELY WHEN fooys that wcut beiore were now glad to cringe behind, for they were afraid of the lions ; so they stept back, and went behind. At this their guide smiled, and said. How k Psalm cxx. 3, 4. * The word David signifies Beloved. We should be very cautious not to speak any thing, which may discourage such as seem disposed to a religious life ; lest we should be found to have abetted that enemy, who spares no pains to seduce them back again into the world. Even the unbelieving fears and complaints of weak and tempted Christians should be repressed before persons of this description : how great then will be the guilt of those who stifle their own convictions, and act contrary to their conscience, from fear of reproach or persecution, and then employ themselves in dissuading others from serving God ! THERE IS NO DAN- GER, BUT SHRINK WHEN TROUBLES COME. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 415 now, my boys; do you love to go before when no danger doth approach, and love to come behind so soon as the lions appear? Now, as they went on, Mr. Great-heart drew his sword, with intent to make a way for the pilgrims in spite of the lions. Then there ap- of grim the giant, ^ AND OF HIS BACKING peared one, that it seems had taken '^'•^ '''°"'- upon him to back the lions ; and he said to the pil- grims' guide. What is the cause of your coming hither? Now, the name of that man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slaying of pilgrims : and he was of the race of the giants. Then said the pilgrims' guide. These women and children are going on pilgrimage ; and this is the way they must go ; and go it they shall, in spite of thee and the lions. Grim. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. I am come forth to withstand them, and to that end will back the lions. Now, to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of the lions, and of the grim carriage of him that did back them, this way had of late lain much unoccupied, and was almost grown over with grass. Then said Christiana, Though the highways have been unoccupied heretofore, and though the travellers have been made in times past to walk through by-paths, it must not be so now I am risen, " now I am risen a mother in Israel."' Then he swore by the lions, that it should : and there- fore bid them turn aside, for they should not have pas- sage there. But Great-heart their guide made first his approach 1 Judges V. 6, 7 416 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. A FIGHT BETWEEN uflto GriiB, End Wid so heavily on nim with ORIMANDOREAT- ^^''^■'- his sword, that he forced him to retreat. Then said he that attempted to back the hons, Will you slay me upon my own ground ? Great. It is the King's highway that we are in, and in this way it is that thou hast placed the lions; but these women and these children, though weak, shall hold on their way in spite of thy lions. And with that he gave him again a downright blow, and brought him upon his knees. With this blow also he broke his helmet, and with the next he cut off an arm. Then did the giant roar so hideously, that his voice frighted the THE VICTORY, women; and yet they were glad to see him lie sprawling upon the ground. Now the lions were chained, and so of themselves could do nothing. Wherefore, when old Grim, that intended to back them, was dead, Mr. Great-heart said to the pilgrims. Come THE^iroNs.'^ ""^ now, and follow me, and no hurt shall hap- pen to you from the lions. They therefore went on, but the women trembled as they passed by them ; the boys also looked as if they would die ; but they all got by without further hurt.* Now, when they were within sight of the Porter's * It is not very easy to determine the precise idea of the author, in each of ".he Giants, who assault the Pilgrims, and are slain by the conductor and his assistants. Some have supposed that unbelief is here meant: but Grim, or Bloody-man, seems not to be apposite names for this inward foe ; nor can it be conceived that unbelief should more violently assault those, who are under the care of a valiant conductor, than it had done the solitary Pil- grims. I apprehend, therefore, that this Giant was intended for the emblem of certain active men, who busied themselves in framing and executing persecuting statutes ; which was done at the time when this was written more violently than it had been before. Thus the temptation to fear man, which at all times assaults the believer, when required to make an open profession of his faith, was exceedingly increased : and, as heavy fines and severe penalties, in accession to reproach and contempt, deterred men from they come to the porter's RODSE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 417 lodge, they soon came up unto it ; but they made the more haste after this to go thither, because it is dan- gerous travelling there in the night. So when they were come to the gate, the guide knocked, and the Porter cried, Who is there? But as soon as the guide had said, It is I, he knew his voice, and came down ; for the guide had oft before that come thither as a conductor of pilgrims. When he was come down, he opened the gate, and, seeing the guide standing just before it, (for he saw not the women, for they were behind him,) he said unto him, How now, Mr. Great-heart, what is your business here so late at night ? I have brought, said he, some pilgrims hither, where, by my Lord's commandment, they must lodge : I had been here some time ago, had I not been opposed by the giant that used to back the lions. But I, after a long and tedious combat with him, have cut him off, and have brought the pilgrims hither in safety. PoR. Will you not go in and stay till morning ? Great. No: I will return to my Lord great-heart *' ATTEMPTS TO BO to-night. "^'^'^ Chr. O, sir, I know not how to be willing you should leave us in our pilgrimage : you have been so faithful joining themselves in communion with dissenting churches, that way was almost unoccupied, and the travellers went through by-paths, according to the author's sentiments on the subject. But the preaching of the gospel, by which the ministers of Christ wielded the sword of the Spirit, overcame this enemy : for the example and exhortations of such courageous com- batants animated even weak believers to overcome their fears, and to act according to their consciences, leaving the event to God. This seems to have been the author's meaning; and perhaps he also intended to encourage his brethren boldly to persevere in resisting such persecuting statutes, confidently expecting that they should prevail for the repeal of them ; by which, as by the death of the Giant, the Pilgrims might be freed from additional terror, in acting consistently with their avowed principles. 3C THE PIL PLOR E PANY STILL. 418 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. and so loving to us, you have fought so stoutly for us you have been so hearty in counselling of us, that 1 shall never forget your favour towards us. Then said Mercy, O that we might have thy com- GRiMs i.M- pany to our journey's end! How can HIS COM- A ./ J J such poor women as we hold out in a way so full of troubles as this way is, without a friend and defender? Then said James, the youngest of the boys. Pray, sir, be persuaded to go with us and help us, because we are so weak, and the way so dangerous as it is. Great. I am at my Lord's commandment : if he shall allot me to be your guide quite through, I will willingly wait upon you. But here you failed at first ; HELP LOST FOR for whcH hc Wd me come thus far with WANT OF ASKING '""'• you, then you should have begged me of him to have gone quite through with you, and he would have granted your request.* However, at present I must withdraw ; and so, good Christiana, Mercy, and my brave children, adieu. Then the Porter, Mr. Watchful, asked Christiana of her country, and of her kindred : and she said, I came from the city of Destruction ; I am a widow-woman, and my husband is dead ; his name was Christian, the pilgrim. How ! said the Porter, was he your husband ? Yes, * We are repeatedly reminded, with great propriety, that we ought to be very particular and explicit in our prayers, especially in every thing per- taining to our spiritual advantage. The removal of faithful ministers, or the fear of losing them, may often remind Christians that ' here they have failed :' they have not sufficiently valued and prayed for them ; or, making sure of their continuance, from apparent probabilities, they have not made that the subject of their peculiar requests, and therefore are rebuked by the loss of them. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 419 said she, and these are his children ; and this (pointing to Mercy) is one of my townswomen. Then the Porter rang his bell, as at such times he is wont, and there came to the door one of the damsels, whose name was Humble-mind. And to her the Porter said. Go, tell it within, that Christiana, the wife of Chris- tian, and her children, are come hither on pilgrimage. She went in, therefore, and told it. But, oh, what noise for gladness was there within, when the joy at the news ^ OF THE PILGRIMS damsel did but drop that out of her mouth ! domino. So they came with haste to the Porter, for Christiana stood still at the door. Then some of the most grave said unto her, Come in, Christiana, come in, thou wife of that good man ; come in, thou blessed woman, come in, with all that are with thee. So she went in, and they followed her that were her children and companions. Now when they were gone in, they were had into a large room, where they were bidden to sit down : so they sat down, and the chief of the house were called to see and welcome the guests. Then they came in, and, understanding who they were, did christians' love ' O •'is KINDLED AT salute each one with a kiss, and said, o^l ano^tYer"" Welcome, ye vessels of the grace of God, welcome unto us your friends.* Now, because it was somewhat late, and because the pilgrims were weary with their journey, and also made faint with the sight of the fight and of the terrible lions, they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to * ' Angels rejoice over one sinner that repenteth ;' and all, who truly love the Lord, will gladly welcome such as appear to be true believers, into their most endeared fellowship: yet there are certain individuals, who, being related to those that have greatly interested their hearts, or having long been remembered in their prayers, are welcomed with singular joy and satisfaction, and whose professed faith animates them in a peculiar manner 420 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. rest. Nay, said those of the family, refresh yourselves first with a morsel of meat; for they had prepared for them a lamb, with the accustomed sauce belonging thereto.""* For the Porter had heard before of their coming, and had told it to them within. So when they had supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they might go to rest. But let us, said Christiana, if we may be so bold as to choose, be in that chamber that was my husband's, when he was here. So they had them up thither, and they all lay in a room. When they were at rest, Chris- tiana and Mercy entered into discourse about things that were convenient. Chr. Little did I think once, when my husband FORirLPiYo'RrMs' went on pilgrimage, that I should ever have followed him. Mer. And you as Httle thought of lying in his bed, and in his chamber to rest as you do now.t Chr. And much less did I ever think of seeing his m Exod. sii. 3. John. i. 29. * The passover was a prefiguration of the sufferings of Christ, and the believer's acceptance of him; of his professed reliance on the atoning sacrifice, preservation from wrath, and the deliverance from the bondage of Satan, to set out on his heavenly pilgrimage. And the Lord's supper is a commemorative ordinance of a similar import; representing the body of Christ broken for our sins, and his blood shed for us; the application of these blessings to our souls by faith, the profession of this faith and of love to him and his people, influencing us to devoted, self-denying obedience : and the effects which follow from thus ' feeding on Christ in our hearts by faith with thanksgiving,' in strengthening us for every conflict and service to which we are called. ' The unleavened bread of sincerity and truth,' and ' the bitter herbs' of godly sorrow, deep repentance, mortification of sin, and bearing the cross, accompany the spiritual feast; and even render it more relishmg to the true believer, as endearing to him Christ and his salvation. t A marginal note here says, ' Christ's bosom is for all Pilgrims.' The sweet peace arising from calm confidence in the Saviour, the consolations MERCY DID LADGH IN BER SLEF. P. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 421 lace with comfort, and of worshipping the Lord the King with him ; and yet now I believe I shall. Mer. Hark, don't you hear a noise? mdsic. Chr. Yes, 'tis, as I believe, a noise of music, for joy hat we are here. Mer. Wonderful ! — Music in the house, music in the heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that we are here ! Thus they talked a while, and then betook themselves to sleep. So in the morning, when they were awaked, Christiana said to Mercy, What was the matter, that you did laugh in your sleep to-night? I suppose you were in a dream. Mer. So I was, and a sweet dream it was ; but are you sure I laughed ? Chr. Yes, you laughed heartily : but pr'ythee, Mercy, tell me thy dream. Mer. I was dreaming that I sat all alone in a soli- tary place, and was bemoaning of the hardness dreIm!'''^ of my heart. Now, I had not sat there long, but me- thought many were gathered about me to see me, and to hear what it was that I said. So they hearkened, and I went on bemoaning the hardness of my heart. At this, some of them laughed at me, some called me a fool, and some beo-an to thrust me about. With that, methought I looked up, and saw one coming with wings towards me. So he came drL^JwI^. directly to me, and said, Mercy, what aileth thee ? Now, when he had heard me make my complaint, he said, Peace be to thee: he also wiped mine eyes with his handkerchief, and clad me in silver and gold. He of his Spirit, submission to his will, and the cheerful obedience of fervent ]ove, give rest to the soul, as if we were reclining on his bosom with the beloved disciple. (Part I. p. 145.) 422 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. put a chain about my neck, and ear-rings in mine ears, and a beautiful crown upon my head." Then he took me by the hand, and said, Mercy, come after me. So he went up, and I followed, till we came at a golden gate. Then he knocked ; and, when they within had opened, the man went in, and I followed him up to a throne, upon which one sat, and he said to me. Welcome, daughter. The place looked bright and twinkling, like the stars, or rather like the sun, and I thought that I saw your husband there. So I awoke from my dream. But did I laugh ? Chr. Laugh ! ay, and well you might, to see your- self so well. For you must give me leave to tell you, that it was a good dream ; and that, as you have begun to find the first part true, so you shall find the second at last.* " God speaks once, yea twice, yet man per- ceiveth it not; in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumbering upon the bed."" We need not, when a-bed, to lie awake to talk with God; he can visit us while we sleep, and cause us then to hear his voice. Our heart oftentimes wakes when we sleep; and God can speak to that, either by words, by proverbs, by signs and similitudes, as well as if one was awake. Mer. Well, I am glad of my dream, for I hope ere n Ezek. svi. 8 — 13. o Job xxxiii. 14 — 16. * They who feel and lament the hardness of their hearts, and earnestly pray that they may be humbled, softened, and filled with the love of Christ, may be assured that their sorrow shall be turned into joy : though they must expect to be ridiculed by such as know not their own hearts. The assurance, that the dream should be accomplished, is grounded on the effects produced upon Mercy's heart ; and there is no danger of delusion, when so scriptural an encouragement is inferred even from a dream. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 423 long to see it fulfilled, to the making of mercy glad op ^ ° HER DREAM. me laugh again. Chr. I think it is now high time to rise, and to know what we must do. Mer. Pray, if they invite us to stay awhile, let us willingly accept of the proffer. I am the willinger to stay a while here, to grow better acquainted with these maids: methinks Prudence, Piety, and Charity have very comely and sober countenances. Chr. We shall see what they will do. So when they were up and ready, they came down, and they asked one another of their rest, and if it was comfortable or not ? Very good, said Mercy ; it was one of the best night's lodgings that ever I had in my life. Then said Prudence and Piety, If you will be per- suaded to stay here a while, you shall have what the house will afford. Ay, and that with a very good will, said Charity. So they consented, and staid there about a month or above, and became very profitable one to another. And, because Prudence would see how Christiana had brought up her children, she asked leave of her to catechise them: prudence desires TO CATECHISE CHRIS- SO she gave her free consent. Then tiana-s children. she began with the youngest, whose name was James. And she said, Come, James, canst thou tell cate^"h?see me who made thee ? James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell who saved thee? James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. THEY STAY HERE SOME TIME. 424 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Prud. Good boy still. But how doth God the Fathei save thee ? James. By his grace.* Prud. How doth God the Son save thee ? James. By his righteousness, death and blood, and hfe. Prud. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee? James. By his illumination, by his renovation, and by his preservation. Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be commended for thus bringing up your children. I sup- pose I need not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest of them can answer them so well. I will therefore now apply myself to the next youngest. Then she said. Come, Joseph, (for his name was Joseph,) will you let me cate- chise you ? Jos. With all my heart. Prud. What is man ? Jos. A reasonable creature, so made by God, as my brother said. Prud. W^hat is supposed by this word, saved ? Jos. That man by sin has brought himself into a state of captivity and misery. * Grace, in this connexion, signifies unmerited mercy or favour, from which all the blessings of salvation flow. The Father freely gave his Son to be our Redeemer, and now freely communicates his Spirit, through the merits and mediation of the Son, to be our Sanctifier ; and thus, with Christ, lie freely gives all things to those, who are enabled truly to believe in him. The important, but much neglected duty of catechising children is here very properly inculcated ; without attention to which, the minister's labours, both in public preaching and private instruction, will be understood in a very Imperfect degree ; and any revival of religion that takes place, will pro- bably die with the generation to which it is vouchsafed. JOSEPH CATECHISED THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 425 Prud. What is supposed by his being saved by the Trinity ? Jos. That sin is so great and mighty a tyrant, that none can pull us out of its clutches but God ; and that God is so good and loving to man, as to pull him indeed out of this miserable state. Prud. What is God's design in saving poor men ? Jos. The glorifying of his name, of his grace, and justice, &c. and the everlasting happiness of his crea- ture. Prud. Who are they that must be saved ? Jos. Those that accept of his salvation.* Prud. Good boy, Joseph; thy mother hath taught thee well, and thou hast hearkened unto what she has said unto thee. Then said Prudence to Samuel, (who was the eldest but one,) Come, Samuel, are you willing that I should catechise you ? Sam. Yes, forsooth, if you please. Prud. What is heaven ? Sam. a place and state most blessed, because God dwelleth there. Prud. What is hell ? Sam. a place and state most woful, because it is the dwelling-place of sin, the devil, and death. * The young pupil is not here taught to answer systematically, ' All the elect :' but practically, ' Those that accept of his salvation.' This is per- fectly consistent with the other ; but it is suited to instruct and encourage the learner who would be perplexed, stumbled, or misled by the other view of the same truth. Thus our Lord observed to his disciples, ' I have many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now ;' and Paul fed the Corinthians, ' with milk, and not with meat; for they were not able to bear It.' How beneficial would a portion of the same heavenly wisdom prove to the modern friends of evangelical truth ! And how absurd is it to teach the hardest lessons to the youngest scholars in the school of Christ ! 3D SAMUEL CATECHISED. MATTHEW CATECHISED 426 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Prud. Why wouldest thou go to heaven ? Sam. That I may see God, and serve him without weariness ; that I may see Christ, and love him ever- lastingly ; that I may have that fulness of the Holy Spirit in me, which I can by no means here enjoy. Prud. A very good boy, and one that has learned well. Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose name was Matthew ; and she said to him. Come, Matthew, shall I also catechise you ? Matt. With a very good will. Prud. I ask then, if there was ever any thing that had a being antecedent to, or before, God ? Matt. No; for God is eternal; nor is there any thing excepting himself, that had a being until the begin- ning of the first day : " For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is."P Prud. What do you think of the Bible ? Matt. It is the holy word of God. Prud. Is there nothing written therein but what you understand ? Matt. Yes, a great deal. Prud. What do you do when you meet with places therein that you do not understand?* p Exod. XX. 11. * We ought not to think ourselves capable of comprehending all the mysteries of revelation, or informed of all that can be known concerning them : yet we should not make our incapacity a reason for neglecting those parts of Scripture, which we do not at present understand : but, uniting humble diligence with fervent prayers, we should wait for further light and knowledge, in all things conducive to our good. There may be many parts of Scripture, which would not be useful to us, if we could understand them ; though they have been, are, or will be useful to others; and our inability to discover the meaning of these passages may teach us humility, and sub- mission to the decisions of our infallible Instructor. prudence's con- clusion UPON THE CATECHISING OF THE THE PILGRIM'S. PROGRESS. 427 Matt. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also that he will please to let me know all therein that he knows will be for my good. Prud. How believe you as touching the resurrection of the dead ? Matt. I believe they shall rise, the same that was buried ; the same in nature, though not in corruption. And I believe this upon a double account: First, because God has promised it: Secondly, because he is able to perform it. Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still hearken to your mother, for she can learn you more. You must also dili- boys.' gently give ear to what good talk you shall hear from others : for your sakes do they speak good things. Observe also, and that with carefulness, what the heavens and the earth do teach you ; but especially be much in the meditation of that book which was the cause of your father's becoming a pilgrim. I, for my part, my children, will teach you what I can while you are here, and shall be glad if you will ask me questions that tend to godly edifying. Now, by that these pilgrims had been at this place a week, Mercy had a visitor that pretended some good-will unto her, and his name was Mr. Brisk ; a man of some breeding, and that pretended to religion, but a man that stuck very close to the world. So he came once or twice, or more, to Mercy, and offered love unto her. Now Mercy was of a fair countenance, and therefore the more alluring. Her mind also was to be always busying of herself in doing ; for when she had nothing to do for herself, she would be making of hose and gar- MERCY HAS A SWEETHEART MERCY INQUIRES OF THE MAIDS CONCERN- ING MR. BRISK. 428 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ments for others, and would bestow them upon them that had need. And Mr. Brisk, not knowing where or how she disposed of what she made, seemed to be greatly taken, for that he found her never idle. I will warrant her a good housewife, quoth he to himself.* Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that were of the house, and inquired of them concerning him, for they did know him better than she. So they told her, that he was a very busy young man, and one that pretended to reli- gion ; but was, as they feared, a stranger to the power of that which is good. Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him ; for I purpose never to have a clog to my soul. Prudence then replied, that there needed no great matter of discouragement to be given to him ; for con- tinuing so as she had begun to do for the poor, would quickly cool his courage. So the next time he comes, he finds her at her old TALK BETWEEN work, a-makiug of things for the poor. BRISK. ^ ■ Then said he. What! always at it? Yes, said she, either for myself or for others. And what canst thou earn a day ? quoth he. " I do these things," * Designing men will often assume an appearance of religion, in order to insinuate themselves into the affections of such pious young women, as are on some accounts agreeable to them ; and thus many are drawn into a most dangerous snare. This incident therefore is very properly introduced, and is replete with instruction. At the same time an important intimation is given, concerning the manner in which those, who are not taken up with the care of a family, may profitably employ their time, adorn the gospel, and be useful in the church and the community. It is much better to imitate Dorcas, who ' through faith obtained a good report,' in making garments for the poor, than to waste time and money in frivolous amusements, or need- less decorations ; or even in the more elegant and fashionable accom- plishments. HE FORSAKES HER, AND WHY. MERCY INTHE NAME ERCY IS LIKED. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 429 said she, " that I may be rich in good works, laying a good foundation against the time to come, that I may lay hold on eternal life.'"^ Why, pr'ythee, what dost thou do with them ? said he. Clothe the naked, said she. With that his countenance fell. So he forbore to come at her again. And when he was asked, the reason why, he said, that Mercy was a pretty lass, but troubled with ill conditions. When he had left her. Prudence said, Did I not tell thee, that Mr. Brisk would soon forsake thee ? yea, he will raise up an ill report of thee : for, notwithstanding his pretence to religion, and his seeming mercy in the love to Mercy, yet Mercy and he are of rejected, while tempers so different, that I believe they "" ■" will never come together.* q 1 Tim. vi. 18, 19. * Young people ought not wholly to follow their own judgments in this most important concern, on wliich the comfort and usefulness of their whole future lives in a great measure depend : and yet it is equally dangerous to advise with improper counsellors. The names of the maidens of the house, show what kind of persons should be consulted : and, when such friends are of opinion that there is danger of a clog, instead of a helper, in the way to heaven, all who love their own souls, will speedily determine to reject the proposal, however agreeable in all other respects. The apostolical rule, * Only in the Lord,' is absolute. The most upright and cautious may indeed be deceived ; but they, who neglect to ask, or refuse to take counsel, will be sure to smart for their folly, if they be indeed the children of God. An unbelieving partner must be a continual source of an.xiety and uneasiness; a thorn in the side ; and an hindrance to ail family religion, and the pious education of children, who generally adhere to the maxims and practices of the ungodly party. Nothing tends more than such marriages, to induce a declining state of religion ; or indeed more plainly shows that it is already in a very unprosperous state. But, when Christians plainly avow their prin- ciples, purposes, and rules of conduct, they may commonly detect and shake off such selfish pretenders : while the attempts made to injure their charac- ters, will do them no material detriment, and will render them the more thankful for having escaped the snare. MERCYS RESOLUTION. 430 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Mer. I might have had husbands before now, though I spoke not of it to any: but they were such as did not hke my conditions, though never did any of them find fault witli my person. So they and I could not agree. Prud. Mercy in our days, is but little set by, any further than as to its name : the practice, which is set forth by thy conditions, there are but few that can abide. Well, said Mercy, if nobody will have me, I will die a maid, or my conditions shall be to me as a husband : for I cannot change my nature ; and to have one that lies cross to me in this, that I purpose never to admit of as long as I live. I had a HOW MERCYS SIS- sistcr, uamcd Bountiful, that was married TER WAS SERVED BY HER HDSBAND. ^Q Qj^c of tlicsc churls i but hc and she could never agree ; but, because my sister was resolved to do as she had begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, therefore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned her out of his doors. Prud. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you ! Mer. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as he the world is now full : but I am for none of them all. Now, Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell sick, and his sickness was sore upon him, for he was much pained in his bowels, so that he was with it, at times, pulled as it were both ends together. There dwelt also not far from thence, one Mr. Skill, an ancient and well-approved physician. So Christiana desired it, and they sent for him, and he came : when he was entered the room, and had a little observed the boy, he concluded that he was sick of the gripes. Then he said to his mother. What diet has Matthew of late fed upon? MATTHEW FALLS SICK GRIPES OF CONSCIENCE THE physician's J U D Q M E N T. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 431 Diet ! said Christiana, nothing but what is wholesome. The physician answered, This boy has been tampering with something that hes in his maw undigested, and that will not away without means. And I tell you, he must be purged, or else he will die. Then said Samuel, Mother, what was that which my brother did gather up and eat, so soon as MOTHEriN m^ind^Jf r .1 ,>!,•, THE FRUITHISBRO- we were come irom the gate that is at ther did eat. the head of this way ? You know that there was an orchard on the left hand, on the other side of the wall, and some of the trees hung over the wall, and my brother did pluck and eat. True, my child, said Christiana, he did take thereof, and did eat : naughty boy as he was, I chid him, and yet he would eat thereof. Skill. I knew he had eaten something that was not wholesome food ; and that food, to wit, that fruit, is even the most hurtful of all. It is the fruit of Beelze- bub's orchard. I do marvel that none did warn you of it: many have died thereof. Then Christiana began to cry ; and she said, O naughty boy! and O careless mother! what shall I do for my son?* * Sin, heedlessly or wilfully committed, after the Lord has spoken peace to our souls, often produces great distress long afterward ; and sometimes darkness and discouragement oppress the mind, when the special cause of them is not immediately recollected : for we have grieved the Holy Spirit and he withholds his consolations. In this case we should adopt the prayer of Job, 'Do not condemn me; show me wherefore thou con tendest with me :' and this inquiry will often be answered by the discourse of skilful ministers, and the faithful admonitions of our fellow Christians. When hopeful professors are greatly cast down, it is not wise to administer cordials to them immediately ; but to propose such questions as may lead to a discovery of the concealed cause of their distress. Thus it will often be found, that THE L AT I BORROW. 432 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Skill* Come, do not be too much dejected ; the bo^ may do well again, but he must purge and vomit. Chr. Pray, sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, whatever it costs. Skill. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. — So he made him a purge, but it was too weak ; 'twas said, it was made of the blood of a goat, the ashes of a heifer, and with some of the juice of hyssop, &icJ When Mr. Skill had seen that that purge was too weak, he IN made him one to the purpose ; it was made ex came et sanguine Christi ;^ (you know physi- cians give strange medicines to their patients :) and it was made into pills, with a promise or two, and a propor- tionable quantity of salt.* Now, he was to take them three at a time, fasting, in half a quarter of a pint of the tears of repentance.'' When this potion was prepared, and brought to the OATH TO boy, he was loath to take it, though torn with the gripes as if he should be pulled in pieces. Come, come, said the physician, you must take it. It goes against my stomach, said the boy. I must have you take it, said his mother. I shall vomit it up again, said the boy. Pray, sir, said Christiana to Mr. Skill, how does it taste ? It has no ill taste, said THE MOTHER TASTES thc doctor J audwith that she touched IT, AND PERSUADES ''""• one of the pills with the tip of her tongue. O Matthew, said she, this potion is sweeter than honey. If thou lovest thy mother, if thou lovest r Heb. ix. 19. x. 1—4. s John vi. 54—57. t Mark is. 49. u Zech. xii. 10. they have been tampering with forbidden fruit; which discovery may tend to their humiliation, and produce a similar effect on those who have neglected their duty, by suffering others to sin without warning or reproof. THE BOY L TAKE THEPHYSIC. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 433 thy brothers, if thou lovest Mercy, if thoij lovest thy Hfe, take it. So, with much ado, after a short prayer for the blessing of God upon it, he took it, and it wrought kindly with him. It caused him to purge, it caused him to sleep, and to rest quietly ; it put him into a fine heat and breathing sweat, and it quite rid him of his gripes.* So in a little time he got up, and walked about with a staff, and would go from room to room, a word of god IN THE HAND OF and talk with Prudence, Piety, and Cha- ''^*''"- rity, of his distemper, and how he was healed. , So, when the boy was healed, Christiana asked Mr. Skill, saying. Sir, what will content you for your pains and care to and of my child ? And he said, You must pay the Master of the College of Physicians, according to rules made in that case, and provided.'' But, sir, said she, what is this pill good for else ? Skill. It is a universal pill ; it is good against all the diseases that pilgrims are THE PILL A TNI- VERSAL REMEDY. V Heb. xiii. 15. * To support the allegory, the author gives the Physician's prescription in Latin ; but he adds in the margin, with admirable modesty, The Latin I borrow. 'Without the shedding of blood, there is no remission of sins,' or true peace of conscience ; ' the blood of bulls and goats cannot take away sin :' nothing, therefore, can bring health and cure, in this case, but the • body and blood of Christ,^ as broken and shed for our sins. These blessings are made ours by faith exercised on the promises of God ; the sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit, which seasons our words and actions as with salt, always connects with living faith ; and godly sorrow, working genuine repentance, is renewed every time we look to the Saviour, whom we have pierced by our recent oifences, and of whom we again seek forgivenesa The natural pride, stoutness, and unbelief of our hearts, render us very reluctant to tliis humiliating method of recovering peace and spiritual strength; and this often prolongs our distress: yet nothing yields more jnalloyed comfort, than thus abasing ourselves before God, and relying on his mercy through the atonement and mediation of his beloved Son. 3E 434 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. incident to ; and, when it is well prepared, wiL keep good time out of mind. Chr. Pray, sir, make me up twelve boxes of them ; for, if I can get these, I will never take other physic. Skill. These pills are good to prevent diseases, as well as to cure when one is sick. Yea, I dare say it, and stand to it, that if a man will but use this physic as he should, it will make him live for ever.^ But, good Christiana, thou must give these pills no other way but IN A GLASS OF THE as I liavc prcscribed ; for if you do, they lEARSOFREPENT- _ * '"'''^- will do no good.* So he gave unto Chris- tiana physic for herself and her boys, and for Mercy ; and bid Matthew take heed how he ate any more green plums ; and kissed them, and went his way. It was told you before, that Prudence bid the boys, that if at any time they would, they should ask her some questions that might be profitable, and she would say something to them. Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked her. Why, OF PHYSIC, for the most part, physic should be bitter to our palates ? Prud. To show how unwelcome the word of God, and the effects thereof, are to a carnal heart. Mat. Why does physic, if it does good, purge, and cause to vomit ? Prud. To show, that the word, when it works effectually, cleanseth the heart and mind. For look, w John vi. 51. * This hint should be carefully noted. Numbers abuse the doctrine of free salvation, by the merit and redemption of Christ, and presume on for- giveness, when they are destitute of genuine repentance, and give no evi- dence of sanctification. But this most efficacious medicine in that case will ' do no good ;' or rather the perverse abuse of it will increase their guilt, and tend to harden their hearts in sin. OF THE EFFECTS OF PHYSIC. OF FIRE AND OF THE SUN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 435 what the one doth to the body, the other doth to the soul. Mat. What should we learn by seeing the flame of our fire go upwards ; and by seeing the beams and sweet influences of the sun strike downwards ? Prud. By the going up of the fire, we are taught to ascend to heaven by fervent and hot desires. And by the sun's sending his heat, beams, and sweet influences, downwards, we are taught that the Saviour of the world, though high, reaches down with his grace and love to us below. Mat. Whence have the clouds their water? of the clodds. Prud. Out of the sea. Mat. What may we learn from that ? Prud. That ministers should fetch their doctrine from God. Mat. Why do they empty themselves upon the earth ? Prud. To show, that ministers should give out what they know of God to the world. Mat. Why is the rainbow caused by of the rainbow. the sun ? Prud. To show, that the covenant of God's grace is confirmed to us in Christ. Mat. Why do the springs come from of the sprinos. the sea to us through the earth ? Prud. To show, that the grace of God comes to us through the body of Christ. Mat. Why do some of the springs rise out of the tops of high hills ? Prud. To show, that the Spirit of grace shall spring up in some that are great and mighty, as well as in many that are poor and low. 436 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. OF THE CANDLE Mat. Wlij dotli tliG firc fasteii upon the candlewick? Prud. To show, that unless grace doth kindle upon the heart, there will be no true light of life in us. Mat. Why are the wick and tallow and all spent to maintain the light of the candle ? Prud. To show, that body and soul and all should be at the service of, and spend themselves to maintain in good condition, that grace of God that is in us. OP THE PELICAN. Mat. Why doth the pelican pierce her own breast with her bill ? Prud. To nourish her young ones with her blood ; and thereby to show, that Christ the Blessed so loved his young, his people, as to save them from death by his blood. OF THE COCK. Mat. What may one learn by hearing the cock to crow ? Prud. Learn to remember Peter's sin, and Peter's repentance. The cock's crowing shows also, that day is coming on: let then the crowing of the cock put thee in mind of that last and terrible day of judgment. Now, about this time their month was out ; where- fore they signified to those of the house, that it was convenient for them to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his mother. It is proper that you forget not to send to the house of Mr. Interpreter, to pray him .om7t.mes%a1I to grant that Mr. Great-heart should be THE STRONG TO , ^ ^1^1 1 PRAYERS. sent unto us, that he may be our con- ductor for the rest of the way. Good boy, said she, I had almost forgot. So she drew up a petition, and prayed Mr. Watchful, the porter, to send it by some fit man to her good friend Mr. Interpreter; who, when It was come, and he had seen the contents of the THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 437 petition, said to the messenger, Go tell them that I will send him.* When the family where Christiana was, saw that they had a purpose to ffo forward, they the? prov drto "^ ^ ~ "^ BE GONE ON THEIR called the whole house together, to give '^^''• thanks to their King, for sending of them such pro fitable guests as these. Which done, they said unto Christiana, And shall we not show thee something, as our custom is to do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate when thou art upon the way ? So they took Christiana, her children, and Mercy, into the closet, and showed them one of the apples that Eve ate of, and that she also did give to her husband, and eves apple. that for the eating of which they were both turned out of Paradise ; and asked her, What she thought that was? Then Christiana said. It is food or poison, I know not which. So they opened the matter to her, and she held up her hands and vvondered.^t X Gen. iii. 1—6. Rom. vii. 24. * This may be applied to the case of persons who are unavoidably removed from those places, where they first made an open profession of the faith. The vigilant pastor, who can no longer watch for their souls, will earnestly recommend them to the care of some other minister, and join with them in prayer, that the same faithful services, or better, may be rendered them by other servants of their common Lord. f The nature of the first transgression ; the ambiguous insinuations by which the tempter seduced Eve, and by her, Adam ; the motives from which they ate the forbidden fruit; and the dreadful disappointment that followed; with all the aggravations and consequences of that most prolific oflence, which contained in it, as in miniature and embryo, all future sins, are very instructive and affecting to the pious mind. For the enemy still proceeds against us, according to the same general plan ; suggesting hard thoughts of God, doubts about the restrictions and threatenings of his word, proud desires of independence or useless knowledge, hankerings after forbidden indulgence, and hopes of enjoying the pleasures of sin, without feeling the punishment denounced against transgressors. A SIGHT OF SIN IS AMAZING. A SIGHT OP CHRIST IS TAKING. 438 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. JACOB'S Then they had her to a place, and showed her LADDER. jg^(,Q{^?g lajjer. Now at that time there were some angels ascending upon it. So Christiana looked and looked to see the angels go up ; so did the rest of the company/ Then they were going into another place, to show them something else : but James said to his mother. Pray bid them stay here a little longer, for this is a curious sight. So they turned again, and stood feeding their eyes with this so pleasant a prospect.* After this, they had them GOLDEN into a place, where did hang up a golden anchor. ° ' So they bid Christiana take it down ; for, said they, you shall have it with you, for 'tis of absolute necessity that you should, that you may lay hold of that within the veil, and stand steadfast in case you should meet with turbulent weather : so they were glad there- RAHAM of.'^t Then they took them, and had them to the mount upon which Abraham our father offered up Isaac his son, and showed them the altar, the wood, the fire, and the knife -, for they remain y Gen. xxviii. 12. z Joel. iii. 16. Heb. vi. 19. * Christ, in his person and offices, is the medium of communication between heaven and earth, between God and man : by him sinners come to God with acceptance, and God dwells with them and is glorified ; through him they present their worship and services, and receive supplies of all heavenly blessings; and for his sake angels delight in 'ministering to the heirs of salvation,' as instruments of his providential care over them and all their concerns. This was represented or typified by Jacob's ladder. t The liope of glory, or of the fulfilment of all God's promises to our souls, is the golden Anchor, by which we must be kept steadfast in the faith, and encouraged to abide in our proper station, amidst the storms of temptation, affliction, and persecution. This it will certainly effect; provided it be genuine and living, grounded on the word of God, springing from faith in his Son, warranted by the experience of his grace, and accompanied by :>revailing desires of a holy felicity, in the presence, favour, and service of the Lord. OF A OFFERING UP ISAAC. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 439 to be seen to this very day. When they had seen it, they held up their hands, and blessed themselves, and said, Oh ! what a man for love to his Master, and for denial to himself, was Abraham! After they had showed them all these things. Prudence took them into a dining room, where stood a prudence's C 11 X • • 1 1 11 VIRGINALS. pair 01 excellent virgmals: so she played upon them, and turned what she had showed them into this excellent song, saying — Eve's apple we have showed you ; Of that be you aware : You have seen Jacob's ladder too, Upon which angels are. An anchor you received have ; But let not these suffice, Until with Abra'm you have gave Your best a sacrifice. Now about this time one knocked at the door ; so the Porter opened, and, behold, Mr. Great- heart was there. But when he was come in, what joy was there : for it came now afresh again into their minds, how but a while ago he had slain old Grim Bloody-man the giant, and had delivered them from the lions. Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana and to Mercy, My Lord has sent each of you a bottle of wine, and also some parched corn, together with a couple of pomegranates ; he has also sent the boys some figs and raisins ; to refresh you in your way. Then they addressed themselves to their journey, and Prudence and Piety went along with them. When they came to the gate, Christiana asked the Porter, if MR. GREAT-HEART COMES AGAIN. HE BRINGS A TOKEN FROM HIB LORD WITH HIM. CHRISTIA HER LEAVE PORTER 440 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. any of late went by. He said, No, only one, some time since, who also told me, that of late there had been a great robbery committed on the King's high- way, as you go : but, said he, the thieves are taken, and will shortly be tried for their lives. Then Chris- tiana and Mercy were afraid ; but Matthew said. Mother, fear nothing, as long as Mr. Great-heart is to go with us, and to be our conductor. Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I am much NA TAKES obliged to you for all the kindnesses E OF THE *^ •' that you have showed to me since I came hither ; and also for that you have been so loving and kind to my children. I know not how to gratify your kindness : wherefore, pray, as a token of my respect to you, accept of this small mite. So she put a gold angel in his hand : and he made a low obeisance, THE PORTER'S ^ud sald, Let thy garments be always white, and let thy head want no ointment. Let Mercy live and not die, and let not her works be few. And to the boys he said. Do you fly youthful lusts, and follow after godliness with them that are grave and wise ; so shall you put gladness into your mother's heart, and obtain praise of all that are sober- minded. So they thanked the Porter, and departed. Now, I saw in my dream, that they went forward until they were come to the brow of the hill, where Piety, bethinking herself, cried out, Alas ! I have forgot what I intended to bestow upon Christiana and her companions ; I will go back and fetch it. So she ran and fetched it. While she was gone, Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a little way off on the right hand, a most curious melodious note, with words much like these: — THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 441 Through all my life thy favour is So frankly showed to me, That in thy house for evermore My dwelling-place shall be. And listening still, she thought she heard another answer it, saying, — For why 1 The Lord our God is good ; His mercy is for ever sure ; His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall from age to age endure. So Christiana asked Prudence who it was that made those curious notes. They are, said she, our country birds : they sing these notes but seldom, except it be at the spring when the flowers appear, and the sun shines warm, and then you may hear them all day long. I often, said she, go out to hear them ; we also oft-times keep them tame in our house. They are very fine company for us when we are melancholy ; also they make the woods, and groves, and solitary places, places desirous to be in.* By this time Piety was come again ; so she said to Christiana, Look here, I have brought thee a scheme of all those things that thou hast v1rt\^o. seen at our house, upon which thou mayest look when thou findest thyself forgetful, and call those things again to remembrance, for thy edification and comfort. Now they began to go down the hill into the Valley of Humiliation. It was a steep hill, and the way was slippery ; but they were very careful ; so they got down pretty well. When they were down in the valley, Piety said to Christiana, This is the place where Christian voar husband met with the foul fiend Apollyon, and a Song ii. 11, 12. 3F PIETY BESTOW- E T n S O M E T in N o ON THEM AT 442 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. where they had that dreadful fight that they had: I know you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of good courage ; as long as you have here Mr. Great- heart to be your guide and conductor, we hope you will fare the better. So when these two had committert the pilgrims unto the conduct of their guide, he went forward, and they went after. Then said Mr. Great-heart, We need not be so afraid MR. GREAT-HEART of this vallev, for here is nothinof to hurt AT THE VALLEY OF '' ^ HUMILIATION. yg^ unlcss wc procurc it to ourselves. It is true. Christian did here meet with Apollyon, with whom he also had a sore combat ; but that fray was the fruit of those slips that he got in his going down the hill: for they that get slips there, must look for combats here. And hence it is that this valley has got so hard a name. For the common people, when they hear that some frio^htful thins has befallen such a one, in such a place, are of opinion that that place is haunted with some foul fiend, or evil spirit ; when, alas ! it is for the fruit of their own doinoj that such things do befall them there. This Valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruitful a place as any the crow flies over : and I am persuaded, WHY CHRISTIAN if WC couW liit uDOu it, we miijht find AS SO BESET IN 1 ' O IItioI "" somewhere hereabouts something that might give us an account why Christian was so hardly beset in this place. Then said James to his mother, Lo, yonder stands tTH a pillar, and it looks as if something was written thereon; let us go and see what it is. So they went and found there written, "Let Christian's slips, before he came hither, and the battles that he met with in this place, be a warning to those that come after." WAS S THE H U M I L A PILLAR Wt AN INSCRIPT ON IT. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 443 Lo, said their guide, did not I tell you that there was something hereabouts that would give intimation of the reason why Christian was so hard beset in this place ? Then, turning himself to Christiana, he said. No dis- paragement to Christian, more than to any others whose hap and lot it was. For it is easier going up than down this hill, and that can be said but of few hills in all these parts of the world. But we will leave the good man, he is at rest, he also had a brave victory over his enemy: let Him grant that dwelleth above, that we fare not worse, when we come to be tried, than he.* But we will come again to this Valley of Humiliation. It is the best and most fruitful piece of ground in all these parts. It is fat THIS VALLEY A BRAVE PLACE. * As the author here evidently alluded to some particulars in his own experience, a more explicit account of these slips would have been very interesting and instructive ; but as it is, we can only conjecture his meaning. He probably referred to some erroneous conclusions which he had formed, concerning the measure of the Lord's dealings with his people, and the nature of their situation in this world. Having obtained peace and comfort, and enjoyed sweet satisfaction in commimion with his brethren, he expected the continuance of this happy frame, and considered it as the evidence of his acceptance : so that afflictions and humiliating discoveries of the evils of his heart, by interrupting his comforts, induced him to conclude that his past experience was a delusion, and that God was become his enemy ; and this unscriptural way of judging concerning his state seems to have made way for the dark temptations that followed. Were it not for such mistakes, humiliating dispensations and experiences would not have any necessary connexion with terror ; and they would give less occasion to temptations than prosperity and comfort do : while a lowly condition is exempted from the numberless snares, incumbrances, and anxieties of a more exalted station : and humility is the parent of patience, meekness, contentment, thankfulness, and every holy disposition that can enrich and adorn the soul. A far greater proportion of believers are found in inferior circumstances, than among the wealthy ; and they who are kept low commonly thrive the best, and are most simple and diligent. Without poverty of spirit, we can not possess ' the unsearchable riches of Christ :' and more promises are made to the humble, than to any other character whatsoever. 444 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ground ; and, as you see, consisteth much in meadows ; and if a man was to come here in the summer time, as we do now, if he knew not any thing before thereof, and if he also dehghted himself in the sight of his eyes, he might see that which would be delightful to him. Behold how green this valley is; also how beautiful with lilies.'' I have known many labouring men that have got good estates in this Valley of Humiliation ; MEN THRIVE IN (for " God rcsistcth the proud, but giveth THE VALLEY OF ^ I'D HDMiLiATioN. gj-ace to the humble;"') for indeed it is a very fruitful soil, and doth bring forth by handfuls. Some also have wished that the next way to their Father's house were here, that they might be troubled no more with either hills or mountains to go over : but the way is the way, and there is an end.* Now as they were going along, and talking, they spied a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a fresh and well-favoured countenance ; and as he sat by himself he sung. Hark, said Mr. Great-heart, to what the shepherd's boy saith: so they hearkened, and he said. He that is down, needs fear no fall ; He that is low, no pride : He that is humble, ever shall Have God to be his guide. b Song ii. 1. c James iv. 6. 1 Pet. v. 5. " The consolations of humble believers, even in their lowest abasement, when favoured by the exhilarating and fertilizing beams of the Sun of Righteousness, are represented under this emblem. The lilies are the harmless and holy disciples of Christ, who adorn a poor and obscure condi- tion of life ; and who are an ornament to religion, being ' clothed with humility.' Many grow rich in faith and good works in retirement and obscurity; and become averse, even at the call of duty, to emerge from it, lest any advancement should lead them into temptation, stir up their pride, or expose them to envy and contention. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 445 I am content with what I have, Little be it or much ; And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because thou savest such. Fulness to such a burden is, i That go on pilgrimage ; Here little, and hereafter bliss, Is best from age to age. ^ Then said the guide, Do you hear him ? I will dare to say, this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of that herb called heart's-ease in his bosom, than he that is clad in silk and velvet. But we will proceed in our discourse.* In this valley our Lord formerly had his country- house; he loved much to be here: he christ when in loved also to walk these meadows, for country-house in THE Valley of hu- he found the air was pleasant. Besides, ^^ii-i^tion. here a man shall be free from the noise, and from the hurryings of this life : all states are full of noise and confusion, only the Valley of Humiliation is that empty and solitary place. Here a man shall not be so let and hindered in his contemplation, as in other places he is apt to be. This is a valley that nobody walks in, but those that love a pilgrim's life. And though Christian had the hard hap to meet here with Apollyon, and to enter with him in a brisk encounter ; yet I must tell you, that in former times men have met with angels here, have found pearls here, and have in this place found the words of life.^ Did I say our Lord had here in former days his d Heb. xiii. 5. e Hos. xii. 4, 5. * Perhaps the Shepherd's hoy may refer to the obscure but quiet station of some pastors over small congregations, who live almost unknown to their brethren, but are in a measure useful, and very comfortable. FORGETFUL GR EEN. 446 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. country-house, and that he loved here to walk? I will add, in this place, and to the people that love and trace these grounds, he has left a yearly revenue to be faith- fully paid them at certain seasons for their maintenance by the way, and for their further encouragement to go on in their pilgrimage.* Now, as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. Great- heart, Sir, I perceive that in this valley my father and Apollyon had their battle ; but whereabout was the fight ? for I perceive this valley is large. Great. Your father had the battle with Apollyon at a place yonder before us, in a narrow pas- sage, just beyond Forgetful Green. And, indeed, that place is the most dangerous place in all these parts ; for if at any time pilgrims meet with any brunt, it is when they forget what favours they have received, and how unworthy they are of them.t This * Our Lord chose retirement, poverty, and an obscure station, as the rest and delight of his own mind ; as remote from bustle and contention, and favourable to contemplation and devotion : so. that his appearance in a public character, and in crowded scenes, for the good of mankind and the glory of the Father, was a part of his self-denial, in which ' he pleased not himself.' Indeed there is a peculiar congeniality between a lowly mind, and a lowly condition : and as much violence is done to the inclinations of the humble, when they are rendered conspicuous and advanced to high stations, as to those of the haughty, when they are thrust down into obscurity and neglect. Other men seem to be banished into this Valley ; but the poor in spirit love to walk in it : and, though some believers here struggle with distressing temptations, others in passing through it enjoy much communion with God. t When consolations and privileges betray us into forgetfulness of our entire unworthiness of such special favours, humiliating dispensations com- monly ensue; and these sometimes reciprocally excite murmurs ^.xidi forget- fulness of past mercies. Thus Satan gains an opportunity of assaulting the soul with dreadful temptations : and, while at one moment hard thoughts of God, or doubts concerning the truth of his word, are suggested to our minds; at the next we may be affrighted by our own dreadful rebellion and mgratitude, prompted to condemn ourselves as hypocrites, and almost driven to despair. TY A SWEET GRACE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 447 »s the place also where others have been hard put to it. — But more of the place when we are come to it; for I persuade myself, that to this day there remains either some sign of the battle, or some monument to testify that such a battle there was fought. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this valley as I have been any where else in all our homili journey : the place, methinks, suits with my spirit. I love to be in such places where there is no rattling with coaches, nor rumbling with wheels methinks, here one may, without much molestation, be thinking what he is, whence he came, what he has done, and to what the King has called him : here one may think, and break at heart, and melt in one's spirit, until one's eyes become " as the fish-pools of Heshbon." They that go rightly through this " valley of Baca, make it a well ; the rain," that God sends down from heaven upon them that are here, "also filleth the pools." This valley is that from whence also the King will give to his their vineyards;^ and they that go throufjh it shall sing as Christian did, for all he met DO ' with Apollyon. 'Tis true, said their guide ; I have gone through this valley many a time, and never was better ^^ experiment than when here. I have also been a con- ductor to several pilgrims, and they have confessed the same. "To this man will I look, (saith the King,) even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my word." Now they were come to the place where the afore- mentioned battle was fought. Then said the place wher.. '-' CHRlSTIi" "~ the guide to Christiana, her children, and "'"'' "' CHRISTIAN AND THB D FIQHT. f Song vii. 4. Psalm Ixxxiv. 5—7. Hos. ii. 15. SOME SIGNS OF THE BATTLE REMAIN. 448 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Mercy, This is the place: on this ground Christian stood, and up there came ApoUyon against him: and, look, did I not tell you, here is some of your husband's blood upon these stones to this day ! Behold, also, how here and there are yet to be seen upon the place some of the shivers of Apol- lyon's broken darts : see also, how they did beat the ground with their feet as they fought, to make good their places against each other ; how also, with their by- blows, they did split the very stones in pieces : verily Christian did here play the man, and showed himself as stout as Hercules could, had he been here, even he himself. When Apollyon was beat, he made his retreat to the next valley, that is called the Valley of the Shadow of Death, unto which we shall come anon. Lo, yonder also stands a monument, on which is A MONCMENT CHgravcn this battle, and Christian's vic- vicTORY. ^ tory, to his fame throughout all ages.* So it stood just on the wayside before them, they stepped to it, and read the writing, which, word for word, was this : — Hard by here was a battle fought, Most strange, and yet most true ; Christian and Apollyon sought Each other to subdue. * We ought carefully to study the records left us of the temptations, con- flicts, faith, patience, and victories of other believers : we should mark well, what wounds they received, and by what misconduct they were occasioned, that we may watch and pray lest we fall in like manner. We ought care- fully to observe, how they successfully repelled the various assaults of the tempter, that we may learn to resist him, steadfast in the faith ; and in gen- eral, their triumphs should animate us, to ' put on,' and keep on, ' the whole armour of God, that we may be enabled to withstand in the evil day.' On the other hand, such as have been rendered victorious should readily speak of their experiences among those that fear God, that they may be cautioned instructed, and encouraged by their example. GR0AN1NO8 HEARD. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 449 The man so bravely play'd the man, He made the fiend to fly ; Of which a monument 1 stand, The same to testify. When they had passed by this place, they came upon the borders of the Shadow of Death, and this valley was longer than the other, a place also most strangely haunted with evil things, as many are able to testify ; but these women and children went the better through it, because they had daylight, and because Mr. Great- heart was their conductor. When they were entered upon this valley, they thought they heard a groaning, as of dying men — a very great groaning. They thought also that they did hear words of lamentation, spoken as of some in extreme torment. These things made the boys to quake, the women also looked pale and wan ; but their guide bid them be of good comfort. So they went on a little further, and they thought that they felt the ground begin to shake under them, as if some hollow place was there; they heard also a kind of hissing, as of serpents, but nothing as yet appeared. Then said the boys, "Are we not yet at the end of this doleful place ? But the guide also bid them be of good courage, and look well to their feet, lest haply, said he, you be taken in some snare.* * The meaning of this valley has been stated in the notes on the first part of this work ; and the interpretation there given is here confirmed. As it relates chiefly to the influence, which ' the Prince of the power of the air ' possesses over the imagination ; it must vary exceedingly, according to the constitution, animal spirits, health, education, and strength of mind or judg- ment, of different persons. They, who are happily incapable of under- standing either the allegory or the explanation, should beware of despising 3G THE GRO0ND SHAKES, James sice with fear. 450 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now James began to be sick, but I think the cause thereof was fear; so his mother gave him some of that glass of spirits that had been given her at the Interpreter's house, and three of the pills that Mr. Skilf had prepared, and the boy began to revive. Thus they went on, till they came to about the middle of the valley; and then Christiana said, Me- j,D thinks I see something yonder upon the road before us ; a thing of a shape such as I have not seen. Then said Joseph, Mother, what is it ? An ugly thing, child, an ugly thing, said she. But, mother, what is it like ? said he. 'Tis like I cannot tell what, said she. And now it is but a little way ofF. Then said she. It is nigh. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, let them that are most N. afraid, keep close to me. So the fiend came on, and the conductor met it ; but when it was just come to him, it vanished to all their sights. Then remembered they what had been said some time ago, " Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed ; but they had not gone far, before Mercy, looking behind her, saw, as she thought, something most like a lion, A LION, and it came a great padding pace after; and it had a hollow voice of roaring ; and at every roar it or condemning' such as have been thus harassed. And, on the other hand, these should take care not to consider such temptations as proofs of spiritual advancement: or to yield to them, as if they were essential to maturity of grace and experience ; by which means Satan often attains dreadful advan- tages. It is most advisable for tempted persons to consult some able, judi- cious minister, or compassionate and established Christian, whose counsel and prayers may be singularly useful in this case ; observing the assistance which Great-heart gave to the Pilgrims, in passing through the valley. THE FIE APhEARS THE PILGRIMS ARE AFRAID. GREAT-HEART E COURAGES THEM. A PIT AND DARKNESS. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. '^451 gave, it made the valley echo, and all their hearts to ache, save the heart of him that was their guide. So it came up ; and Mr. Great-heart went behind, and put the pilgrims all before him. The lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great-heart addressed himself to give him battle. But when he saw that it was determined that resistance should be made, he also drew back, and came no further.^ Then they went on again, and their conductor did go before them, till they came at a place where was cast up a pit the whole breadth of the way ; and, before they could be prepared to go over that, a great mist and a darkness fell upon them, so that they could not see. Then said the pilgrims, Alas ! what now shall we do ? But their guide made answer. Fear not, stand still, and see what an end will be put to this also. So they staid there, because their path was marred. They then also thought that they did hear more apparently the noise and rushing of the enemies ; the fire also and smoke of the pit was much easier to be discerned. Then said Christiana to Christiana now KNOWS WHAT HER Mercy, Now I see what my poor husband h°^''^«° ^^''^• went through ; I have heard much of this place, but I never was here afore now. Poor man ! he went here all alone in the night; he had night almost quite through the way: also these fiends were busy about him, as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many have spoken of it, but none can tell what the Valley of the Shadow of Death should mean until they come in to it themselves. " The heart knoweth its own bitterness ; and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy." To be here is a fearful thing. g 1 Pet. V. 9. 452 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Great. This is like doing business in great waters, or like going down into the deep; this is like being in the heart of the sea, and like going down to the bottoms of the mountains ; now it seems as if the earth, with its bars, were about us for ever. " But let them that walk in darkness, and have no light, trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon their God." For my part, as I have told you already, I have gone often through this valley j and have been much harder put to it than now I am ; and yet you see I am alive. I would not boast, for that I am not my own saviour. But I trust we shall have a good deliverance. Come, let us pray for light to Him that can lighten our darkness, and that can rebuke, not only these, but all the Satans in hell. So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and THEY PRAY, deliverance ; for there was now no let in their way, no, not there where but now they were stopt with a pit. Yet they were not got through the valley : so they went on still, and behold great stinks and loath- some smells, to the great annoyance of them. Then said Mercy to Christiana, There is not such pleasant being here as at the gate, or at the Interpreter's, or at the house where we lay last.* * Whatever attempts Satan may make to terrify the believer, resolute resistance by faith in Christ will drive him away: but if fear induces men to neglect the means of grace, he will renew his assaults on the imagination, whenever they attempt to pray, read the scripture, or attend on any duty ; till for a time, or finally, they give up their religion. In this case, therefore, determined perseverance in opposition to every terrify- ing suggestion is our only safety. Yet sometimes temptations may be so multiplied and varied, that it may seem impossible to proceed any further ; and the mind of the harassed believer is enveloped in confusion and dismay, as if an horrible pit were about to swallow him up, or the Prince of darkness to seize upon him. But the counsel of some expe- rienced friend or minister, exciting confidence in the power, mercy, and faithfulness of God, and encouraging him to "pray without ceasing," will at length make way for his deliverance. F THE BOYB REPLIES. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 453 Oh, but, said one of the boys, it is not so bad to go through here, as it is to abide here one o always ; and, for aught I know, one reason why we must go this way to the house prepared for us, is, that our home might be made the sweeter to us. Well said, Samuel, quoth the guide ; thou hast now spoke like a man. — Why, if ever I get out here again, said the boy, I think I shall prize light and good way better than ever I did in all my life.* Then said the guide, We shall be out by and by. So on they went, and Joseph said. Cannot we see to the end of this valley as yet? Then said the guide, Look to your feet, for we shall presently be among the snares. So they looked to their feet, and went on ; but they were troubled much with the snares. Now, when they were come among the snares, they spied a man cast into the ditch on the left hand, with his flesh all rent and torn. Then said the guide. That is one Heed- less, that was going this way ; he has lain there a great while. There was one Take-heed with him when he was taken and slain, but he escaped their hands. You cannot imagine how many are killed hereabouts, and yet men are so fool- ishly venturous, as to set out lightly on pilgrimage, and to come without a guide. Poor Christian, it was a * Should any one, by hearing the believer say, ' The sorrows of death compassed me, and the pains of hell gat hold upon me,' be tempted to avoid all religious duties, company, and reflections, lest he should ex- perience similar terrors, let him well weigh this observation; 'It is not so bad to go through here, as to abide here always.' — Nothing can be more absurd, than to neglect religion, lest the fear of hell should dis- compose a man's mind, when such neglect exposes him to the eternal endurance of it: whereas the short taste of distress, which may be ex- perienced by the tempted believer, will make redemption more precious, and render peace, comfort, and heaven at last, doubly delightful! HEEDLESS IS SLAIN, AND TAKE-HEED PRE- SERVED. ,^ t^ >t 1 w ■ I ■ ■ I — ■ I ■ r^ 1 t— ; wv J^ .-^ to MAnL, A GIANT, QDARRELS WITH GREAT-HEART. 454 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. wonder that he here escaped ! But he was beloved of his God : also he had a good heart of his own, or else he could never have done it.* Now they drew towards the end of this way ; and just there, where Christian had seen the cave when he wont by, out thence came forth Maul, a giant. This Maul did use to spoil young pilgrims with sophistry ; and he called Great-heart by his name, and said unto him. How many times have you been forbidden to do these things ? Then said Mr. Great- heart, What things ? — What things ! quoth the giant ; you know what things : but I will put an end to your trade. But pray, said Mr. Great-heart, before we fall to it, let us understand wherefore we must fight. (Now the women and children stood trembling, and knew not what to do.) Quoth the giant. You rob the country, and rob it with the worst of thefts. — These are but gen- erals, said Mr. Great-heart; come to particulars, man. Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft of a GOD'S MINISTERS kiduapDer I thou gatherest up women and children, and carriest them into a COUNTED AS KID NAPPERS * The discouragement of dark temptations is not so formidable, in the judgment of experienced Christians, as the snares connected with them: for, while numbers renounce their profession, to get rid of their disquie- tude; many are seduced into some false doctrine that may sanction negligence, and quiet their consciences by assenting to certain notions, without regarding the state of their hearts, or what passes in their ex- perience ; and others are led to spend all their time in company, or even to dissipate the gloom by engaging in worldly amusements, because retirement exposes them to these suggestions. In short, the enemy en- deavours to terrify the professor, that he may drive him away from God, entangle him in heresy, or draw him into sin ; in order to destroy his soul, or at least ruin his credit and prevent his usefulness. But circum- spection and prayer constitute our best preservative ; through which, they who take heed to their steps escape, while the heedless are taken and destroyed, for a warning to those that come after. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 455 strange country, to the weakening of my master's kingdom. — But now Great-heart repUed, I am a servant of the God of heaven; my business is to persuade sinners to repentance. I am commanded to do my endeavours to turn men, women, and the giant and MR. GREAT-HEART children "from darkness to hght, and ^^^-^ '''^»^- from the power of Satan unto God;" and if this be indeed the ground of thy quarrel, let us fall to it as soon as thou wilt. Then the giant came up, and Mr. Great-heart went to meet him : and, as he went, he drew his sword ; but the giant had a club. So, without more ado, they fell to it, and at the first blow the giant struck Mr. Great- heart down upon one of his knees ; with that the women and children cried out : so Mr. Great-heart, recovering himself, laid about him in full lusty manner, and gave the giant a wound in his arm : thus he fought for the space of an hour to that height of heat, that the breath came out of the giant's nostrils as the heat doth out of a boiling caldron. Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr. Great- heart betook himself to prayer ; also the women and children did nothing but sigh and cry all the time that the battle did last. When they had rested them, and taken breath, they both fell to it again ; and Mr. Great-heart, with a blow, fetched the giant down to the thegian ground. Nay, hold, let me recover, quoth he : so Mr. Great-heart fairly let him get up. So to it they went again, and the giant missed but little of all-to breaking Mr. Great-heart's skull with his club. Mr. Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the full T STRUCK DOWN. 456 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. heat of his spirit, and pierceth him under the fifth rib ; with that the giant began to faint, and could hold up Then Mr. Great-heart seconded his club no longer. iir'%v HE IS SLAIN, AND hls Uow, aud smote the head of the giant HIS HEAD DISPO- " ^^" °^- from his shoulders. Then the women and children rejoiced, and Mr. Great-heart also praised God for the deliverance he had wrought. When this was done, they amongst them erected a pillar, and fastened the giant's head thereon, and wrote under it, in letters that passengers might read, He that did wear this head was one That pilgrims did misuse; He stopt their way, he spared none, But did them all abuse : THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 457 Until that I Great-heart arose, The pilgrims' guide to be; Until that I did him oppose, That was their enemy.* Now I saw that they went on to the ascent that was a httle way off cast up to be a prospect for pilgrims, (that was the place from whence Christian had the first sight of Faithful, his brother.) Wherefore here they sat down and rested ; they also here did eat and drink, and make merry, for that they had gotten deliverance from this so dangerous an enemy. As they sat thus and did eat, Christiana asked the guide if he had caught no hurt in the battle. Then said Mr. Great-heart, No, save a little on my flesh ; yet that also shall be so far from being to my detriment, that it is at present a * This giant came out of the cave, where Pope and Pagan had resided. He is therefore- the emblem of those formal superstitious teachers, and those speculating moralists, who in protestant countries have too generally succeeded the Romish priests and the heathen philosophers, in keeping men ignorant of the way of salvation, and in spoiling by their sophistry such as seem to be seriously disposed. These persons often represent faithful ministers, who draw off their auditors, by preaching 'repentance towards God, and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ,' as robbers and kidnappers: they terrify many, (especially when they have the power of enforcing penal statutes,) from professing or hearing the gospel, and acting according to their consciences ; and they put the faith of God's servants to a severe trial. Yet perseverance, patience, and prayer, will obtain the victory; and they that are strong will be instrumental in animating the feeble to go on their way rejoicing and praising God. But though these enemies may be baffled, disabled, or apparently slain, it will appear that they have left a posterity on earth, to revile, injure, and oppose the spiritual worshippers of God- in every generation. The club with which the giant was armed, may mean the secular arm or power by which opposers of the gospel are generally desirous of en- forcing their arguments and persuasions. 'We have a law, and by our law he ought to die;' this decision, like a heavy club, seems capable of bearing all down before it: nor can any withstand its force, but those who rely on Him that is stronger than all. 3H 458 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. proof of my love to my Master and you ; and shall be a means, by grace, to increase my reward at last. Chr. But were you not afraid, good sir, when you saw him come with his club ? It is my duty, said he, to mistrust my own ability, DISCOURSE OF that I may have rehance on Him that is THE FIGHT. iU 11 h Stronger than all." Chr. But what did you think, when he fetched you down to the ground at the first blow ? Why, I thought, quoth he, that so my Master him- self was served ; and yet he it was that conquered at last. Mat. When you all have thought what you please, MATTHEW HERE I thlnli God lias been wonderfully fjood ADMIRES god's _ "^ *-" GOODNESS. y^|.Q yg^ |3Q|.]^ jjj bringing us out of this valley, and in delivering us out of the hand of this enemy ; for my part, I see no reason why we should distrust our God any more, since he has now^, and in such a place as this, given us such testimony of his love. Then they got up, and went forward. Now a little p before them stood an oak : and under it, when they came to it, they found an old pilgrim fast asleep : they knew that he was a pilgrim by his clothes, and his staff, and his girdle. So the guide, Mr. Great-heart, awaked him; and the old gentleman, as he lifted up his eyes, cried out. What's the matter? Who are you ? and what is your business here ? Great. Come, man, be not so hot, here are none T^uBs^X'^lE^'lt but friends. Yet the old man gets up, OTHER FOR HIS 1 > 1 1 • J J MI KNEMT. and stands upon his guard, and will know of them what they are. Then said the guide, OLD HONEST ASLEE DNDER AN OAK. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 459 My name is Great-heart: I am the guide of these pilgrims, that are going to the Celestial country. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you mercy. I feared that you had been of the company of talk between *^ I ^ GREAT-HEART ANB those that some time ago did rob Little- ""*• faith of his money ; but now I look better about me, I perceive you are honester people.* Great. Why, what would or could you have done, to have helped yourself, if indeed we had been of that company ? Hon. Done! why, I would have fought as long as breath had been in me; and had I so done, I am sure you could never have given me the worst on't ; for a Christian can never be overcome, unless he shall yield of himself. Well said, father Honest, quoth the guide; for by this I know that thou art a cock of the right kind, for thou hast said the truth. Hon. And by this also, I know, that thou knowest what true pilgrimage is : for all others do think that we are the soonest overcome of any. Great. Well, now we are so happily met, pray let me crave your name, and the name of the place you came from? * The allegory requires us to suppose, that there were some places m which the Pilgrims might safely sleep; so that nothing disadvanta- geous to the character of this old disciple seems to have been in- • tended. — An avowed dependence on Christ for righteousness, a regard to the word of God, and an apparent sincerity in word and deed, mark a man to be a Pilgrim, or constitute a professor of the gospel : but we should not too readily conclude every professor to be a true believer. The experienced Christian will be afraid of new acquaintance; in his most unwatchful seasons he will be readily excited to look about him ; and will be fully convinced that no enemy can hurt him, unlesfi he is induced to yield to temptation and commit sin. WHENCE HONEST CAME STHPEFIE WORSE THAN THOSE MERELY CARNAL. 460 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Hon. My name I cannot : but I came from the town MR of Stupidity; it lieth about four degrees beyond the city of Destruction. Great. Oh ! are you that countryman ? Then I deem I have half a guess of you : your name is Old Honesty, is it not ? So the old gentleman blushed, and said. Not honesty in the abstract: but Honest is my name, and I wish that my nature may agree to what I am called. But, sir, said the old gentleman, how could you guess that I am such a man, since I came from such a place?* Great. I had heard of you before, by my Master ; for he knows all things that are done on the earth : but D ONES ARE I havc oftcu w^ondered that any should come from your place, for your town is worse than is the city of Destruction itself. Hon. Yes, we lie more off from the sun, and so are more cold and senseless ; but was a man in a mountain of ice, yet if the Sun of Righteousness will arise upon him, his frozen heart shall feel a thaw. And thus it hath been with me.f * Honesty in the abstract seems to mean sinless perfection. The Pilgrim was a sound character, but conscious of many imperfections, of which he was ashamed, and from which he sought deliverance. The nature of faith, hope, love, patience, and other holy dispositions is de- scribed in scripture, as a man would define gold, by its essential properties. This shows what they are i7i the abstract : but as exercised by us, they are always mixed with considerable alloy ; and we are richer or poorer in this respect, in proportion to the degree of the gold or of the alloy which is found in our characters. t The Lord sometimes calls those sinners, whose character, connexions, and situation, seem to place them at the greatest distance from him : that the riches of his mercy and the power of his grace may be thus rendered the more conspicuous and illustrious. OLD HONEST AND CHRISTIANA TALK. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 461 Great. I believe it, father Honest, I believe it ; for I know the thing is true. Then the old gentleman saluted all the pilgrims with a holy kiss of charity ; and asked them of their names, and how they had fared since they had set out on their pilgrimage. Then said Christiana, My name, I suppose, you have heard of: good Christian was my hus- band, and these four are his children. But can you think how the old gentleman was taken, when she told him who she was ! He skipped, he smiled, he blessed them with a thousand good wishes ; saying, I have heard much of your husband, and of his travels and wars, which he underwent in his days. Be it spoken to your comfort, the name of your husband rings all over these parts of the world ; his faith, his courage, his enduring, and his sincerity under all, have made his name famous. Then he turned him to the boys, and asked of them their names, which tiiey told him. And then said he unto them, — Matthew, be thou like Mat- thew the publican, not in vice but in virtue. Samuel, said he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, a man of faith and prayer. Joseph, said he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar's house, chaste, and one that flies from temptation. And James, be thou like James the Just, and like James the brother of our Lord.' Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had left her town and her kindred to come alontr with Christiana and with her sons. At that the old honest man said, Mercy is thy name, by mercy shalt thou be sustained, and carried through all , tj\j \jii\jyx kka.Kj J.TXCH, (jj_j, jj^ honest'S BLESSING ON THEM. HE BLESSETIi MERCY. i Matt. X. 3. Psalm xcix. 6 Gen. xzxix. Acts i. 13, 14. Talk of one FEARING. 462 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. those difficulties that shall assault thee in thy way, till thou shalt come thither where thou shalt look the Fountain of mercy in the face with comfort. All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, was very well pleased, and smiled upon his companions. Now, as they walked along together, the guide asked the old gentleman, if he did not know one Mr. Fearing, that came on pilgrimage out of his parts. Yes, very well, said he. He was a man that had the root of the matter in him ; but he was one of the most troublesome pilgrims that ever I met with in all ray days. Great. I perceive you knew him, for you have given a very right character of him. Hon. Knew him ! I was a great companion of his ; I was with him most an end ; when he first began to think upon what would come upon us hereafter, I was with him. Great. I was his guide from my Master's house to the gates of the Celestial City. Hon. Then you knew him to be a troublesome one. Great. I did so; but I could very well bear it; for men of my calling are oftentimes intrusted with the conduct of such as he was.* * The character and narrative of Fearing has been generally admired by experienced readers, as drawn and arranged with great judgment, and in a very affecting manner. Little-faith, mentioned in the First Part, was faint-hearted and distrustful ; and thus he contracted guilt, and lost his comfort: but Fearing dreaded sin, and coming short of heaven, more than all that flesh could do unto him. He was alarmed at the least appearance or report of opposition ; but this arose more from con- scions weakness, and the fear of being overcome by temptation, than from a reluctance to undergo derision or persecution. The peculiarity of this description of Christians must be traced back to constitution, HIS BEHAVIODR AT THE SLOUGH OP THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 463 Hon. Why, then, pray let us hear a Httle of him, and how he managed himself mider your conduct. Great. Why, he was always afraid that he should come short of whither he had a desire to mr. fearing's TROUBLESOME go. Every thing frightened him that he j-'i-orimaoe. heard any body speak of, if it had but the least appear- ance of opposition in it. I hear that he lay roaring at the Slough of Despond for above a month together; nor durst he, for all he saw i"^spond. several go over before him, venture, though they, many of them, offered to lend him their hands. He would not go back again neither. The Celestial City, he said, he should die if he came not to it ; and yet he was de- jected at every difficulty, and stumbled at every straw that any body cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the Slough of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshiny morning, I don't know how, he ven- tured, and so got over ; but when he was over, he would scarce believe it. He had, I think, a Slough of Despond in his mind, a slough that he carried every where w^ith him, or else he could never have been as he was. So he came up to the gate, you know what I mean, that stands at the head of this way, and there also he stood a great while before he would venture to knock. When the gate was opened, he would give back, and give place to others, afid say that he was not worthy. For, for all he got before some to habit, first impressions, disproportionate and partial views of truth, and improper instructions: tiiese concurring with weakness of faith, and the common infirmities of human nature, give a cast to their experience and character, which renders them uncomfortable to themselves, and trouble- some to others. Yet no competent judges doubt but they have the root of the matter in them ; and none are more entitled to the pr.tient, sympathising, and tender attention of ministers and Christians. HIS BEHAVIOUR AT THE GATE. 464 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. the gate, yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man would stand shaking and shrinking; I dare say it would have pitied one's heart to have seen him. Nor would he go back again. At last he took the hammer that hanged on the gate, in his hand, and gave a small rap or two ; then one opened to him, but he shrunk back as before. He that opened, stepped out after him, and said. Thou trembling one, what wantest thou ? With that he fell down to the ground. He that spoke to him wondered to see him so faint, so he said to him. Peace be to thee ; up, for I have set open the door to theej come in, for thou art blessed. With that he got up, and went in trembling ; and when that he was in, he was ashamed to show his face. Well, after he had been entertained there a while, as you know how the manner is, he was bid go on his way, and also told the way he should take. So he went on till he came to our house ; but as he behaved HIS BEHAVIOUR AT hiuisclf at thc s^atc, so did he at my THE INTERPRETER'S ~ *' DOOR. Master the Interpreter's door. He lay thereabout in the cold a good while, before he would adventure to call ; yet he would not go back : and the nights were long and cold then. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom to my Master to receive him, and grant him the comfort of his house, and also to allow him a stout and valiant conductor, because he was himself so chicken-hearted a man ; and yet, for all that, he was afraid to call at the door. So he lay up and down thereabouts, till, poor man, he was almost starved ; yea, so great was his dejection, that though he saw several others for knocking get in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last, I think, I looked out of the window, and perceiving a man to be up and down about the HOW HE WAS ENTER- TAINED THERE. HE 13 A LITTLE ENCODRAOED AT THE INTERPRE- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 465 door, I went out to him, and asked what he was. But, poor man, the water stood in his eyes ; so I perceived what he wanted. I went therefore in, and told it in the house, and we showed the thing to our Lord : so he sent me out again, to entreat him to come in ; but I dare say, I had hard work to do it. At last he came in ; and I will say that for my Lord, he carried it wonderfully lovingly to him. There were but a few good bits at the table, but some of it was laid upon his trencher. Then he presented the note ; and my Lord looked thereon, and said his desire should be granted. So when he had been there a good while, he seemed to get some heart, and to be a little more comfortable. For my Master, you must know, is one of very tender ters hJ'uYe^ bowels, especially to them that are afraid ; wherefore he carried it so towards him, as might tend most to his encouragement. Well, when he had had a sight of the things of the place, and was ready to take his journey to go to the city, my Lord, as he did to Christian before, gave him a bottle of spirits, and some comfort- able things to eat. Thus we set forward, and I went before him ; but the man was but of few words, only he would sigh aloud. When we were come to where the three fellows were hanged, he said that he doubted he was greatly that that would be his end also. Only he ^aw the gibbet^ botch eerywhen seemed glad when he saw the Cross and he saw the cross. the Sepulchre. There I confess he desired to stay a little to look ; and he seemed for a while after to be a little cheery. When he came to the hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions ; for you must know that his trouble was not about 31 DUMPISH AT THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 466 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. such things as these; his fear was about his acceptance at last. I got him in at the house Beautiful, I think before he was willing. Also when he was in, I brought him ac- quainted with the damsels of the place; but he was ashamed to make himself much in company. He de- sired much to be alone; yet he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the screen to hear it. He also loved much to see ancient things, and to be pondering them in his mind. He told me afterward, that he loved to be in those two houses from which he came last, to wit, at the Gate, and that of the Interpreter, but that he durst not be so bold as to ask.* * Christians, who resemble Fearing, are greatly retarded in their progress by discouraging apprehensions; they are apt to spend too much time in unavailing complaints ; they do not duly profit by the counsel and assistance of their brethren ; and they often neglect the proper means of getting relief from -their terrors: yet they cannot think of giving up their feeble hopes, or of returning to their forsaken worldly pursuits and pleasures. They are, indeed, helped forward, through the mercy of God, in a very extraordinary manrter : yet they still remain exposed to alarms and discour- agements, in every stage of their pilgrimage : nor can they ever habitually rise superior to them. They are afraid even of relying on Christ for salva- tion ; because they have not distinct views of his love, and the methods of his grace; and imagine some other qualification to be necessary, besides the willingness to seek, knock, and ask for the promised blessings, with a real desire of obtaining them. They imagine, that there has been something in their past life, or that there is some peculiarity in their present habits and propensities, and way of applying to Christ, which may exclude them from the general benefit : so that they pray with diffidence ; and being consciously unworthy, can hardly believe that the Lord regards them, or will grant their requests. They are also prone to overlook the most decisive evidences of their reconciliation to God ; and to persevere in arguing with perverse ingenuity against their own manifest happiness. The same mixture of humility and unbelief renders persons of this description backward in asso- ciating with their brethren, and in frequenting those companies in which they might obtain further instruction : for they are afraid of being considered as believers, or even serious inquirers ; so that affectionate and earnest per FLEXED LLEY OP THE SHADOW OP THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 467 When we went also from the house Beautiful, down the hill, into the Valley of Humihation, pleasant in the valleyofhomi- he went down as well as ever I saw a ^'^^'o" man in my life ; for he cared not how mean he was, so he might be happy at last. Yea, I think there was a kind of sympathy betwixt that valley and him ; for I never saw him better in all his pilgrimage than he was in that valley. :, ■:• •' Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the very flowers that grew in this valley ."^ He would now be up every morning by break of day, tracmg and walking to and fro in the valley. But w hen he was come to the entrance of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I thought I i/°^^7/, should have lost my man : not for that D^rTH he had any inclination to go back ; that he always ab- norred; but he was ready to die for fear. Oh, the hobgoblins will have me! the hobgoblins will have me! k Lam. iii. 27—29. suasion is requisite to prevail with them to join in those religious exercises by which Christians especially receive the teaching of the Holy Spirit. Yet this arises not from disinclination, but diffidence ; and though they are often peculiarly favoured with seasons of great comfort, to counterbalance their dejections ; yet they never hear or read of those who ' have drawn back to perdition,' but they are terrified with the idea, that they shall shortly resemble them : so that every warning given against hypocrisy and self- deception seems to point them out by name, and every new discovery of any fault or mistake in their views, temper, or conduct, seems to decide their doom. At the same time, they are often remarkably melted into humble, admiring gratitude, by contemplating the love and sufferings of Christ, and seem to delight in hearing of that subject above all others. They do not peculiarly fear difficulties, self-denial, reproaches or persecution, which deter numbers from making an open profession of religion : and yet they are more backward in this respect than others; because they deem themselves unworthy to be admitted to such privileges, and into such society ; or else are apprehensive of being finally separated from them, or becoming a dis- grace to religion. HIS BEHAVIOUR AT VANITY FAIR. 468 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. cried he; and I could not beat him out on't. He made such a noise and such an outcry here, that had they but heard him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall upon us. But this I took very great notice of, that this vallej* was as quiet when we went through it, as ever I knew it before or since. I suppose those enemies here had now a special check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing had passed over it.* It would be too tedious to tell you of all : we will therefore only mention a passage or two more. When he was come to Vanity Fair, I thought he would have fought with all the men in the fair. I feared there we should have been both knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries. Upon the Enchanted Ground he was very wakeful. But when he was come at the river where was no bridge, there again he was in a heavy case. Now, now, he said, he should be drowned for ever, and so never see that face with comfort, that he had come so many miles to behold. And here also I took notice of what was very * A low and obscure situation suits the disposition of the persons here described : they do not object to the most humiliating views of their own hearts, of human nature, or of the way of salvation ; they are little tempted to covet eminence among their brethren, and find it easier 'to esteem others better than themselves,' than persons of a different frame of mind can well conceive. On the other hand, their imagmations are peculiarly susceptible of impressions, and of the temptations represented by the valley of the Shadow of Death : so that in this respect they need more than others the tender and patient instructions of faithful ministers: while they repeat the same complaints, and urge the same objections against themselves, that have already been obviated again and again. But the tender compassion of the Lord to them should suggest an useful instruction to his servants, on this part of their work. HIS BOLDNESS AT LAST. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 469 remarkable ; — the water of that river was lower at this time than ever I saw it in all my life ; so he went over at last, not much above wetshod. When he was goinor ' DO up to the gate, I began to take leave of him, and to wish him a good reception above. So he said, I shall, I shall. Then parted we asunder and I saw him no more. Hon. Then it seems he was well at last? GjiEAT. Yes, yes, I never had doubt about him. He was a man of a choice spirit, only he was always kept very low, and that made his life so burdensome to him- self, and so troublesome to others.' He was, above many, tender of sin: he was so afraid of doing injuries to others, that he often would deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not offend.™ Hon. But what should be the reason that such a good man should be all his days so much in the dark ? Great. There are two sorts of reasons for it. One is, the wise God will have it so: some reasons whi! GOOD MEN ARE SO must pipe, and some must weep." Now '^ the dark. Mr. Fearing was one that played upon the bass. He and his fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes are more doleful than the notes of other music are ; though indeed some say, the bass is the ground of music. And for my part, I care not at all for that profession that begins not in heaviness of mind. The first string that the musician usually touches, is the bass, when he intends to put all in tune. God also plays upon this string first, when he sets the soul in tune for himself. Only there was the imperfection of Mr. Fearing; he could play upon no other music but this, till towards his latter end. 1 Psalm Ixxxviii. m Rom. siv. 21. 1 Cor. viii. 13. n Matt. xi. 16, 17. A CLOSE ABODT HIM. 470 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. [I make bold to talk thus metaphorically for the ripening of the wits of young readers, and because in the book of the Revelation, the saved are compared to a company of musicians, that play upon their trumpets and harps, and sing their songs before the throne.°] Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see by that relation which you have given of him. Diffi- culties, lions, or Vanity Fair, he feared not at all ; it was only sin, death, and hell, that were to him a terror, because he had some doubts about his interest in that celestial country. Great. You say right ; those w ere the things that were his troublers : and they, as you have well observed, arose from the weakness of his mind thereabout, not from weakness of spirit as to the practical part of a pilgrim's life. I dare believe that, as the proverb is, he could have bit a firebrand, had it stood in his way ; but the things with which he was oppressed, no man ever yet could shake off with ease. Then said Christiana, This relation of Mr. Fearing CHRISTIANA'S has done me good; I thought nobody had been like me. But I see there was some semblance betwixt this good man and me : only we dif- fered in two things. His troubles were so great, that they broke out ; but mine I kept within. His also lay so hard upon him, they made him that he could not knock at the houses provided for entertainment; but my trouble was always such as made me knock the louder. Mer. If I might also speak my heart, I must say that something of him has also dwelt in me. MERCYS SENTENCE. o Rev. V. 8. xiv. 2, 3. MATTHEW'S SENTENCE. JAMES S SENTENCE. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 471 For I have ever been more afraid of the lake, and the loss of a place in paradise, than I have been of the loss of other things. Oh, thought I, may I have the happiness to have a habitation there! 'Tis enough, though I part with all the world to win it. Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made me think that I was far from having that with- in me that accompanies salvation. But if it was so with such a good man as he, why may it not also go well with me ? No fears, no grace, said James. Though there is not always grace where there is the fear of hell, yet to be sure there is no grace where there is no fear of God. Great. Well said, James, thou hast hit the mark. For the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom ; and to be sure they that want the beginning have neither middle nor end. But we will here conclude our dis- course of Mr. Fearing, after we have sent after him this farewell. Well, Master Fearing, thou didst fear Thy God, and wast afraid Of doing any thing, while here, That would have thee betrayed. And didst thou fear the lake and pit? Would others did so too ! For, as for them that want thy wit, They do themselves undo.* * No Christians are more careless about the opinion of the world, or more zealous against its vanities, or more watchful in times of ease and prosperity, than persons of this description ; but the prospect of death is often a terror to them ; especially when they suppose it to be at hand ; yet they often die with remarkable composure and comfort. Few ministers, who have had an opportunity of carefully observing the people intrusted to their pastoral care, can help thinking of some individual, who might seem to have been the original of this admirable portrait ; which is fi^ll of instruction both 472 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now, I saw that they still went on in their talk. For after Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fear- ing, Mr. Honest began to tell them of another, but his OF MR. SELF-WILL. Rame was Mr. Self-will. He pretended himself to be a pilgrim, said Mr. Honest; but I per- suade myself he never came in at the gate that stands at the head of the way. Great. Had you ever any talk with him about it ? Hon. Yes, more than once or twice; but he would OLD HONEST alwavs be like himself, self-willed. He HAD TALKED _ *^ WITH HIM. neither cared for man, nor argument, nor yet example ; what his mind prompted him to, that he would do, and nothing else could he be got to do. Great. Pray what principles did he hold ? for I sup- pose you can tell. Hon. He held, that a man might follow the vices as well as the virtues of the pilgrims ; and that if he did both, he should be certainly saved. Great. How ? If he had said, it is possible for the best to be guilty of the vices, as well as partake of the virtues of pilgrims, he could not much have been blamed; for indeed we are exempted from no vice absolutely, but on condition that we watch and strive. to them, and the timid, but conscientious part of their congregations. Indeed numbers, who are not characteristically Fearfuls, have something of the same disposition in many particulars. But such as fear reproach and self-denial more than those things which this good man dreaded, bear a contrary char- acter, and are travelling the road to an opposite place : and even they whose confidence of an interest in Christ far exceeds the degree of their humilia- tion, conscientiousness, abhorrence of sin, and victory over the world, may justly be suspected of having begun their religion in a wrong manner ; as t'ney more resemble the stony-ground hearers, who ' receive the word with joy, but have no root in themselves,' than those who 'sow in tears, to reap 'n joy.' For ' godly sorrow worketh repentance unto salvation, not to be ■■epented of.' SELF-WILL'S OriNIONS. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 473 But this I perceive is not the thing ; but if I understand you right, your meaning is, that he was of opinion, that it was allowable so to be. Hon. Ay, ay, so I mean, and so he believed and practised. Great. But what grounds had he for his so saying ? Hon. Why, he said he had the scripture for his warrant. Great. Pr'ythee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few particulars. Hon. So I will. He said, to have to do with other men's wives had been practised by David, God's beloved ; and therefore he could do it. He said, to have more women than one was a thing that Solomon practised, and therefore he could do it. He said, that Sarah and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did saved Rahab, and therefore he could do it. He said, that the disciples went at the bidding of their Master, and took away the owner's ass, and therefore he could do so too. He said, that Jacob got the inheritance of his father in a way of guile and dissimulation, and therefore he could do so too. Great. High base indeed ! And are you sure he was of this opinion ? Hon. I have heard him plead for it, bring scripture for it, bring arguments for it, &c. Great. An opinion that is not fit to be with any allowance in the world ! Hon. You must understand me rightly : he did not say that any man might do this ; but that they who had the virtues of those that did such things, might also do the same. Great. But what more false than such a conclusion ? 3K 474 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. For this is as much as to say, that because good men heretofore have sinned of infirmity, therefore he had allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind : or that if, because a child, by the blast of the wind, or for that it stumbled at a stone, fell down and defiled itself in the mire, therefore he might wilfully lie down and wallow Hke a boar therein. Who could have thought that any one could so far have been blinded by the power of lust ? But what is written must be true ; — they " stumble at the word, being disobedient, whereunto they also were appointed." ^ His supposing that such may have the godly men's virtues, who addict themselves to their vices, is also a delusion as strong as the other. 'Tis just as if the dog should say, I have, or may have, the qualities of the child, because I lick up its stinking excrements. To eat up the sin of God's people,"" is no sign of one that is possessed with their virtues. Nor can I believe that one that is of this opinion, can at presefnt have faith or love in him. But I know you have made some strong objections against him; pr'ythee what can he say for himself? Hon. Why, he says, to do this by way of opinion seems abundantly more honest than to do it, and yet hold contrary to it in opinion. Great. A very wicked answer. For, though to let loose the bridle to lusts, while our opinions are against such things, is bad ; yet to sin, and plead a toleration so to do, is worse : the one stumbles beholders acci- dentally, the other leads them into the snare. Hon. There are many of this man's mind,* that have p 1 Pet. ii. 8. q Hos. iv. 8. * The author peculiarly excels in contrasting his characters, of which a striking instance here occurs. The preceding episode relates to a very conscientious Christian, who, through weak faith and misapprehen THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 475 not this man's mouth ; and that makes going on pil- grimage of so httle esteem as it is. Great. You have said the truth, and it is to be lamented : but he that feareth the King of paradise shall come out of them all. Chr. There are strange opinions in the world. I know one that said, it was time enough to repent when we come to die. Great. Such are not over-wise; that man would have been loth, might he have had a week to run twenty miles in his life, to have deferred his journey to the last hour of that week. Hon. You say right ; and yet the generality of them who count themselves pilgrims do indeed do thus. I sion, carried his self-suspicion to a troublesome and injurious extreme : and we have next introduced a false professor, who, pretending to strong faith, made his own obstinate self-will the only rule of his conduct. Yet in reality this arises from total unbelief: for the word of God declares such persons to be unregenerate, under the wrath of God, ' in the gall of bitterness and the bond of iniquity.' — It would hardly be imagined, that men could be found maintaining such detestable sentiments as are here stated, did not facts most awfully prove it ! We need not, however, spend time in exposing such a character: a general expression of the deepest detestation may suffice; for none who have been given up to such strong delusion, can reasonably be supposed accessible to the words of truth and soberness. Nor can they succeed in perverting others to such palpable and gross absurdities and abominable tenets; except they meet with those, that have long provoked God, by endeavouring to reconcile a wicked life with the hope of salvation. But it may properly be observed, that several expressions, which seem to represent faith as an assurance of a personal interest in Christ ; or to intimate, that be- lievers have nothing to do with the law, even as the rule of their con- duct ; with many unguarded assertions concerning the liberty of the gospel, and indiscriminate declamations against doubts, fears, and a legal spirit, have a direct tendency to prepare the mind of impenitent sinners, to receive the poisonous principles of avowed Antinomians. Much harm has been done in this way, and great disgrace brought upon the gospel . for there arc many of this man's mind, who have not this man's mouth. 176 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. am, as you see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this road many a day ; and I have taken notice of many things. I have seen some that have set out as if they would drive all the world afore them, who yet have in a few days died as they in the wilderness, and so never got sight of the promised land. — I have seen some that have promised nothing at first setting out to be pilgrims, and that one would have thought could not have hved a day, that have yet proved very good pilgrims. — I have seen some who have run hastily forward, that again have, after a little time, run just as fast back again. — I have seen some who have spoken very well of a pilgrim's life at first, that after a while have spoken as much against it. — I have heard some, when they first set out for paradise, say positively there is such a place, who, when they have been almost there, have come back again, and said there is none. I have heard some vaunt what they would do in case they should be opposed, that have, even at a false alarm, fled faith, the pilgrim's way, and all. Now, as they were thus on their way, there came one running to meet them, and said. Gentlemen, and you of the weaker sort, if you love life, shift for yourselves, for the robbers are before you. Then said Mr. Great-heart, They be the three that set upon Little-Faith heretofore. Well, said he, we are ready for them : so they went on their way. Now they looked at every turning when they should have met with the villains; but whether they heard of Mr. Great-heart, or whether they had some other game, they came not up to the pilgrims. FRESH NEWS OF TRODBLE. great-heart's resoldtion. CHRISTIANA WISHES FOR AN INN. OAIOS ENTERTAINS THEM, AND HOW. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 477 Christiana then wished for an inn to refresh herself and her children, because they were weary. Then said Mr. Honest, There is one a little before us, where a very honourable dis- ciple, one Gains, dwells.'' So they all concluded to turn in thither j and the rather, because the old gentle- man gave him so good a report. When they came to the door, they went in, not knocking, for folks use not to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called for the master of the house, and he came to them. So they asked if they might lie there that night. Gaius. Yes, gentlemen, if you be true men, for my house is for none but pilgrims.* Then were Christiana, Mercy, and the boys the more glad, for that the innkeeper was a lover of pilgrims. So they called . for rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana and her children and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great-heart and the old gentleman. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good Gaius, what hast thou for supper ? for these pilgrims have come far to- day, and are weary. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot conveniently go out to seek food ; but such as we have you shall be welcome to, if that will content. Great. We will be content with what thou hast in the house ; for as much as I have proved thee, thou art never destitute of that which is convenient. r Rom. xvi. 23. * The spiritual refreshment arising- from experimental and affectionate conversation with Christian friends, seems to be here more especially intended : yet the name of Gaius snggests also the importance of the apostle's exhortation, 'Use hospitality without grudging.' This ought to be attended to, even in respect of those with whom we have hitherto had no acquaintance, provided their characters are properly certified to us: for we are all brethren in Christ. HE COMES UP AGAIN. TALK BETWEEN GAIUS AND HIS GUESTS. 478 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose oAins'scooK. name was Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready supper for so many pilgrims. This done, he comes up again, saying. Come, my good friends, you are welcome to me, and I am glad that I have a house to entertain you in ; and while supper is making ready, if you please, let us entertain one another with some good discourse : so they all said, Content. Then said Gaius, Whose wife is this aged matron ? and whose daughter is this young damsel ? Great. This woman is the wife of one Christian, a pilgrim of former times; and these are his four children. The maid is one of her acquaintance, one that she hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all after their father, and covet to tread in his steps ; yea, if they do but see any place where the old pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it ministereth joy to their hearts, and they covet to lie or tread in the same. Then said Gaius, Is this Christian's wife, and are these Christian's children ? I knew your husband's father, yea, also his father's father. Many have been good of this stock ; their ancestors dwelt first at Antioch.^ Christian's progenitors, (I suppose you have heard your husband talk of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed themselves men of great virtue and courage, for the Lord of the pilgrims, his ways, and them that loved him. I have heard of many of your husband's relations that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. OF CHRISTIAN S ANCESTORS. 8 Acts xi. 2G. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 479 Stephen, that was one of the first of the family from whence your husband sprang, was knocked on the head with stones/ James, another of this generation, was slain with the edge of the sword." To say nothing of Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your husband came, there was Ignatius, who was cast to the lions ; Romanus, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones ; and Poly carp, that played the man in the fire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun for the wasps to eat ; and he whom they put into a sack, and cast into the sea to be drowned. It would be impossible utterly to count up all of that family that have suffered injuries and death for the love of a pilgrim's life. Nor can I but be glad to see that thy husband has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they will bear up their father's name, and tread in their father's steps, and come to their father's end. Great. Indeed, sir, they are likely lads; they seem to choose heartily their father's ways. Gaius. That is it that I said. Wherefore Christian's family is like still to spread abroad upon the face of the ground, and yet to be numerous upon the advice to curis- Ci ' ^ i TIANA ABOUT HER face of the earth ; let Christiana look out """'• some damsels for her sons, to whom they may be betrothed, &c. that the name of their father, and the house of his progenitors, may never be forgotten in the world. Hon. 'Tis pity his family should fall and be extinct. Gaius. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may ; but let Christiana take my advice, and that is the way to uphold it. And, Christiana, said this inn-keeper, I am t Acts vii. 59, 60. u Acts xii. 2. 480 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. glad to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely couple. And if I may advise, take Mercy into a nearer relation to thee: if she will, let her be given to Matthew thy eldest son. It is the way to preserve a posterity in the earth. So this match was concluded, A MATCH BETWEEN aud lu proccss of time they were married : MERCY AND MAT- ^ ^«^^^- but more of that hereafter.* Gaius also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the behalf of women, to take away their reproach. For as death and the curse came into the world by a woman, so also did life and health. God sent forth his Son, made of a woman.'' Yea, to show how much they WHY WOMEN OP that camc after did abhor the act of the OLD SO MUCH DE- SIRED CHILDREN, niothcr, thls sex in the Old Testament V Gen. iii. Gal. iv. 4. * The author availed himself of the opportunity, here presented him, of giving his opinion on a very important subject, about which religious persons often hold different sentiments. He evidently intended to say, that he deemed it generally most safe and advantageous to the parties themselves, and most conducive to the spread and permanency of true religion, for young Christians to marry ; provided it be done in the fear of God, and according to the rules of his word. Yet we cannot suppo.se but he would readily have allowed of exceptions to this rule: for there are individuals, who, continuing single, employ that time and those talents in assiduously doing good, which in the married state must have been greatly abridged or preoccupied ; and thus they are more e.xtensively useful than their brethren. Yet, in common cases, the training up of a family, by the combined efforts of pious parents, in honesty, sobriety, industry, and the principles of true religion, when united with fervent prayer, and the persuasive eloquence of a good example, is so important a service to the church and to the commu- nity, that few persons are capable of doing greater or more perma- nent good in any other way. But this requires strict attention to the rules of scripture, in every step of these grand concerns: for children, brougnt up in ungodliness and ignorance, among those who are strangers to the goppel, are far more hopeful, than such as have received a bad education, witnessed bad examples, and imbibed worldly principles, in the families of evangelical professors. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 481 coveted children, if happily this or that woman might be the mother of the Saviour of the world. I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women rejoiced in him, before either man or angel.''' I read not that ever any man did give unto Christ so much as one groat ; but the women followed him, and ministered to him of their substance. 'Twas a woman that washed his feet with tears, and a woman that anointed his body to the burial. They were women that wept when he was going to the cross ; and women that followed him from the cross, and that sat by his sepulchre when he was buried. They were women that were first with him at his resurrection-morn ; and women that brought tidings first to his disciples that he was risen from the dead.^ Women therefore are highly favoured, and show by these things, that they are sharers with us in the grace of life. Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost ready, and sent one to lay the cloth, and the trenchers, and to set the salt and bread in order. Then said Matthew, The sight of this cloth, and of this forerunner of the supper, begetteth in me a greater appetite to my food than I had before. Gaius. So let all ministering doctrines to thee in this life beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the supper of the great King in his kingdom; for all preaching, books, and ordinances here, ^^^h are but as the laying of the trenchers, and the setting of salt upon the board, chTr when compared with the feast that our Lord will make for us when we come to his house. w Luke i. 42^6. X Luke VH. 37-50. viii. 2, 3. xxiii. 27. xxiv. 22, 23. John xi. 2. xii. 3. Matt, ixrii. 55-«l. 3L SOFPER READY. AT IS TO BE ERED FROM LAYING OF TH E BREAD WITH TBB CLOTHANDTREN- 482 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. So supper came up. And first a heave-shoulder and a wave-breast were set on the table before them ; to show that they must begin their meal with prayer and praise to God/ The heave-shoulder David lifted up his heart to God with ; and with the wave-breast, where his heart lay, he used to lean upon his harp when he played. These two dishes were very fresh and good, and they all ate heartily thereof. The next they brought up was a bottle of wine, as red as blood. So Gains said to them. Drink freely; this is the true juice of the vine, that makes glad the heart of God and man. So they drank and were merry.'' The next was a dish of milk well crumbed : Gains ^ mln."^ said. Let the boys have that, that they may grow thereby.^ Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and honey. Then said Gains, Eat freely of this, for this is good to cheer up and strengthen your judgments and understandings. This was our Lord's dish when he was a child : " Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know how to refuse the evil, and choose the good.'"* Then they brought them up a dish of apples, and they were very good-tasted fruit. Then said Matthew, May we eat apples, since they were such by and with which the serpent beguiled our first mother ? Then said Gains : Apples were they with which we were beguiled, Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defiled : Apples forbid, if ate, corrupt the blood ; To eat such, when commanded, does us good : Drink of his flagons then, thou church, his dove, And eat his apples, who art sick of love. y Lev. VII. 32—34. x. 14, 15. Psalm xxv. 1. Heb. xiii. 15. z Deui. xxxii. 14. Judg. ix. 13. John xv. 5. a 1 Pet. ii. 1, 2. b Isa. vli. 15 OF HONEY AND BUTTER. A DISH OP APPLES. A DISH 0? NDTS. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 483 Then said Matthew, I made the scruple, because 1 a while since was sick with the eating of fruit. Gaius. Forbidden fruit will make you sick ; but not what our Lord has tolerated. W bile they were thus talking, they were presented with another dish, and it was a dish of nuts.'' Then said some at the table, Nuts spoil tender teeth, especially the teeth of children: which when Gaius heard, he said : — Hard texts are nuts, (I will not call them cheaters,) Whose shells do keep their kernels from the eaters ; Ope then \he shells, and you shall have the meat; They heie are brought for you to crack and eat.* c Song vi. 11. •* The different parts of social worship and Christian fellowship are here allegorically described. The heave-shoulder and wave-breast pre- scribed in the ceremonial law, seem to have typified the power and love of our great High Priest; and to have conveyed an instruction to the priests to do their work with all their might, and with their whole heart: but they are here supposed to be also emblems of fervent prayer and grateful praise. The wine represents the exhilarating remembrance of the love of Christ in shedding his blood for us, and the application of the blessing to ourselves by living faith. The milk is the emblem of the plain, simple, and important instructions of scripture, as brought forward by believers, when they meet together, for their edification. The butter and honey may denote those anima- ting views of God, and realizing anticipations of heavenly joy, which tend greatly to establish the judgment, instruct the understanding, and determine the affections in cleaving to the good part that the be- liever hath chosen. The apples represent the promises and privileges, which believers possess by communion with Christ, in his ordinances; (Sol. Song ii, 3.) and the nuts signify such difficult subjects as experience and observation enable mature Christians to understand ; and which amply repay the pains of endeavouring to penetrate their meaning, though they are not proper for the discussion of young converts. Whatever un- believers may think, a company of Christians, employing themselves in the manner here described, have far sweeter enjoyments than they ever experienced when engaged in the mirth, diversions, and pleasures of the world : for these are merely the shadow of joy, but religion puts us in possession of the substance. 484 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then were they very merry, and sat at the table a long time, talking of many things. Then said the olo gentleman, My good landlord, while we are cracking your nuts, if you please, do you open this riddle : A RIDDLE PUT A man there was, though some did count him mad, FORTH BY OLD _ " , , , HONEST. Ine more he cast away, the more he had. Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good Gains would say ; so he sat still a while, and then thus replied : oAius -^^ ^^^ bestows his goods upon the poor, OPENS IT. Shall have as much again, and ten times more. JOSEPH WONDERS. Then said Joseph, I dare say, sir, I did not think you could have found it out. Oh! said Gains, I have been trained up in this way a great while : nothing teaches like experience. I have learned of my Lord to be kind, and have found by experience that I have gained thereby. There is that scattereth, and yet increaseth; and there is that with- holdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty. There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing: there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches.*^ Then Samuel whispered to Christiana, his mother, and said, Mother, this is a very good man's house ; let us stay here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married here to Mercy, before we go any further. The which Gains, the host, overhearing, said. With a very good will, my child. So they stayed here more than a month, and Mercy ^p was given to Matthew to wife. While they stayed here, Mercy, as her custom was, MATTHEW A UERCVUaRKIBD, d Prov. xi. 24. ziii. 7. OLD HONEST NODS. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 485 would be making coats and garments to give to the poor, by which she brought a very good report upon pilgrims.* But to return again to our story. After supper, the lads desired a bed, for they were weary with the boys go '' "^ TO BED, TH« travelling. Then Gaius called, to show ^^-'^ ^'"^ ■''"• them their chamber ; but said Mercy, I will have them to bed. So she had them to bed — and they slept well ; but the rest sat up all night ; for Gaius and they were such suitable company, that they could not tell how to part. Then after much talk of their Lord, themselves, and their journey, old Mr. Honest, he that put forth the riddle to Gaius, began to nod. Then said Great-heart, What, sir, you begin to be drowsy ; come, rub up now, here is a riddle for you. Then said Mr. Honest, Let us hear it. Then said Mr. Great- heart : He that would kill, must first be overcome : a riddle Who live abroad would, first must die at home. Ha! said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one; hard to expound, and harder to practise. But, come, landlord, said he, I will, if you please, leave my part to you; do you expound it, and I will hear what you say. No, said Gaius, it was put to you, and 'tis expected you should answer it. Then said the old gentleman: He first by grace must conquered be, the riddle , , .-. OPENED. That sm would mortiry : Who that he lives would convince me, Unto himself must die. * If our love to sinners be only shown by seeking their spiritual good, it will be considered as a mere bigoted desire to proselyte them to our sect or party: but uniform, diligent, and expensive endeavours to relieve their temporal wants are intelligible to every man, and bring a good report on the profession of the gospel. A (IDESTION WORTH THE MINDING. 486 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. It is right, said Gaius ; good doctrine and experience teach this. For, first, until grace displays itself, and overcomes the soul with its glory, it is altogether with- out heart to oppose sin. Besides, if sin is Satan's cords, by which the soul lies bound, how should it make resistance before it is loosed from that infirmity?* Secondly, Nor will any that knows either reason or grace, believe that such a man can be a living monu- ment of grace, that is a slave to his own corruptions. And now it comes into my mind, I will tell you a story worth the hearing. There were two men that went on pilgrimage ; the one began when he was young, the other when he was old. The young man had strong corruptions to grapple with ; the old man's were weak with the decays of nature. The young man trod his steps as even as did the old one, and was every way as light as he. Who now, or which of them, had their graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be alike? Hon. The young man's, doubtless. For that which A COMPARISON, heads it against the greatest opposition, gives best demonstration that it is strongest ; especially when it also holdeth pace with that which meets not with half so much, as, to be sure, old age does not. A MISTAKE. Besides, I have observed that old men have blessed themselves with this mistake ; namely, taking the decays of nature for a gracious conquest over cor- ruptions, and so have been apt to beguile themselves. Indeed, old men that are gracious are best able to give * The gracious operations of the Holy Spirit are liere meant. These overcome our natural pride, love of sin, and aversion from God and religion ; and then we repent, believe in Christ, are justified by faith, mortify sin, die to ourselves, and live to God in righteousness and true holiness. ANOTHER QUESTION. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 487 advice to them that are young, because they have seen most of the emptiness of things: but yet, for an old and a young man to set out both together, the young one has the advantage of the fairest discovery of a work of grace within him, though the old man's cor- ruptions are naturally the weakest.* Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now, when the family were up, Christiana bid her son James that he should read a chapter ; so he read the 53d of Isaiah. When he had done, Mr. Honest asked why it was that the Saviour is said to " come out of a dry ground,''^ and also, that " lie had no form nor comeliness in him.''^ Then said Mr. Great-heart, To the first I answer. Because the church of the Jews, of which Christ came, had then lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. * Old age affords great advantages in overcoming some corrupt propensi- ties : yet habits of indulgence often more than counterbalance the decays of nature ; and avarice, suspicion, and peevishness, with other evils, gather strength as men advance in years. It is therefore in some particulars only, that age has the advantage over youth ; and as some old men imagine that they have renounced sin, because they are no longer capable of committing the crimes in which they once lived ; so there are young men, who presume that they shall live to be old, and imagine that repentance will then be com- paratively easy to them : whereas sin, in one form or other, gathers strength and establishes its dominion, as long as it is permitted to reign in the soul. The instruction, however, that is here conveyed, is very important, provided it be properly understood ; for if we do not estimate the advantages of our situation, we cannot determine how far external amendment results from internal renovation. During tedious diseases, or in the immediate prospect of death, men often feel very indifferent to the world, set against sin, disin- clined to former indulgences, and earnest about salvation : yet returning health, business, company, and temptation, terminate such promising appear- ances. Many suppose tliemseives to be very good tempered, while every one studies to oblige them ; yet provocation excites vehement anger and resentment in the breast: nay, riches and honour while at a great distance seem to have no charms for those, who are powerfully attracted by their magnetical influence, when placed within their reach ! 488 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. To the second I say, The words are spoken in the person of unbehevers, who, because they want the eye that can see into our Prince's heart, therefore judge of him by the meanness of his outside, just like those that know not that precious stones are covered over with a homely crust, who, when they have found one, because they know not what they have found, cast it away again, as men do a common stone. Well, said Gains, now you are here, and since, as I know, Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you please, after we have refreshed ourselves, we will walk into the fields, to see if we can do any good. About a mile from hence there is one Slay-good, a giant, that does much annoy the King's highway in these parts; and I know whereabout his haunt is. He is master of a number of thieves : 'twould be well if we could clear these parts of him. So they consented and went ; Mr. Great-heart with his sword, helmet, and shield ; and the rest with spears and staves. When they came to the place where he was, they F^v^D^ ^lin^Tsl found him with one Feeble-mind in his FEEBLE-MIND IN HIS 111 I- ^111 1^ HAND. hand, whom his servants had brought unto him, having taken him in the way. Now the giant was rifling him, with a purpose after that to pick his bones ; for he was of the nature of flesh-eaters. Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends at the mouth of his cave, with their weapons, he demanded what they wanted. Great. We want thee ; for we are come to revenge the quarrels of the many that thou hast slain of the pil- grims, when thou hast dragged them out of the King's highway: wherefore come out of thy cave. So he armed himself and came out, and to battle they went, THE GIANT ASSAULT- ED AND SLAIN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 489 and fought for above an hour, and then stood still to take wind. Then said the giant, Why are you here on my ground ? Great. To revenge the blood of pilgrims, as I told thee before. So they went to it again, and the giant made Mr. Great-heart give back: but he came up again, and in the greatness of his mind he let fly with such stoutness at the giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon fall out of his hand. So he smote him, and slew him, and cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. He also took Feeble-mind the pilgrim, and brought him with him to his lodgings. When they were come home, they showed his head to the family, and set it up, as they had done others before, for a terror to those that should attempt to do as he hereafter.* * The refreshment of divine consolations, and Christian fellowship, is intended to prepare us for vigorously maintaining the good fight of faith, not only against the enemies of our own souls, but also against the opposers of our holy religion, according to the talents intrusted to us, and the duties of our several stations. We are soldiers belonging to one great army under the command of the Captain of our salvation ; and we ought to strive against sin, and 'contend for the faith once delivered to the saints,' by our profession, example, prayers, converse, and every other method authorized by the word of God. All that love the Lord are our bretiiren ; and every thing that can mislead, dismay, or hinder any of them, should be considered as an adversary to the common cause; and we should counteract with meekness, but with firmness and decision, all the endeavours of those, who obstruct men in the ways of the Lord, or turn them aside into by-paths. It does not, however, clearly appear what particular description of opposers were represented by Slay-good : whether the author had in view certain selfish and malignant persecutors, who intimidated professors by fines and imprison- ment, to the hazard of their lives, or of their souls ; or some plausible heretics, who ' taught things which they ought not, for filthy lucre's sake,' to the total ruin of many that seemed hopeful, and the great detriment of others who were weak in faith and unestablished in judgment. The con- flict seems merely to denote the efforts which Christians should make to 3M 490 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind how he fell into his hands. Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as you see : and because death did usually once a day knock at my door, I thought I should never be well at home ; so I HOW FEEBLE-MIND bctoolt mysclf to a pilorrim's life, and CAMETO BE A PIL- '' la *"'"'• have travelled hither from the town of Uncertain, where I and my father were born. I am a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet of mind, but would, if I could, though I can but crawl, spend my life in the pilgrim's way. When I came at the gate that is at the head of the way, the Lord of that place did en- tertain me freely; neither objected he against my weakly looks, nor against my feeble mind ; but gave me such things as were necessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the house of the Interpreter, I received much kindness there : and because the hill of Difficulty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of his servants. Indeed, I have found much relief from pilgrims, though none were willing to go so softly as I am forced to do : yet still, as they came on, they bid me be of good cheer, and said, that it was the will of their Lord that comfort should be given to the feeble-minded,*" and so went on their own pace. When I was come to Assault-lane, then this giant met with me, and bid me prepare for an encounter. But, alas! feeble one that I was, I had more need of a cordial ; so he came up and took me, e 1 Thess. v. 14. prevent the effect of such opposition and delusion, and to remove such occasions of mischief out of the way ; as also to show that the strong in faith are peculiarly called to these services, and ought not to shrink from hardship, danger, and suffering, in so good a cause. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 491 I conceited he should not kill me. Also when he crot me into his den, since I went not with him willingly, I believed I should come out alive a1 1 AT- . 1 COMMISSION. to support the weak. You must needs go along with us; we will wait for you; we will lend you our help; we will deny ourselves of a christian spirit. some things, both opinionative and practical, for your sake : we will not enter into doubtful disputations before you; we will be made all things to you, rather than you shall be left behind.** Now% all this while they were at Gaius's door; and behold, as they were thus in the heat of their dis- course, Mr Ready-to-halt came by, w^ith his promises. crutches in his hand, and he also was going on pil- grimage.*' h Job xii. 5. i Rom. xiv. 1 Cor. viii. k Psalm xxxviii. 17. * Weak believers are conscientious even to scrupulosity : so far from allowing themselves in the practice of known sin, or the omission of evident duty, they are prone to abridge themselves in things which are indifferent ; they often impose rules on themselves which they do not expect others to observe ; and sometimes are sensible that their uneasiness, at the liberty used by their brethren, arises from ignorance and low attainments: and therefore they deem it better to live retired, than to burden others with their peculiarities, or be grieved with things which every where meet their obser- vation. But there are persons, that expect to be encouraged as weak believers, who are far removed from such scrupulousness; and whose weak- ness consists merely in an inability to maintain an unwavering confidence, while they live in a loose and negligent manner. These seem more to resemble Not-right than Feeble-mind. They that are indeed weak believers, should learn from this passage, to beware of censoriousness, and of making themselves a standard for others : and their stronger brethren should be reminded not to despise or grieve them, by an inexpedient use of their liberty. (The author, in a marginal note, has marked Great-heart's answer as a Christian spirit.) They will, however, commonly find asso- ciates, in some measure of their own turn, who are often more useful to them, than such as cannot entirely sympathize with their feelings. 496 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, Man, how earnest thou hither? I was but now complaining that I had FEEBLE-MIND GLAD ROt a suitablc compauion, but thou art TO SEE READY-TO- ^ HALT COME. according to my wish. Welcome, wel- come, good Mr. Ready-to-halt, I hope thou and I may be some help. I shall be glad of thy company, said the other ; and, good Mr. Feeble-mind, rather than we will part, since we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my crutches. Nay, said he, though I thank thee for thy good will, I am not inclined to halt before I am lame. How- beit, I think, when occasion is, it may help me against a doff. Ready. If either myself or my crutches can do thee a pleasure, we are both at thy command, good Mr. Feeble-mind. Thus therefore they went on. Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Honest went before, Christiana and her children went next, and Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Ready-to- halt came behind, with his crutches. Then said Mr. Honest, Pray, sir, now we are upon the road, tell us NEW TALK, some profitable things of some that have gone on pilgrimage before us. Great. With a good will. I suppose you have heard how Christian of old did meet with ApoUyon in the Valley of Humiliation, and also what hard work he had to go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Also I think you cannot but have heard how Faithful was put to it by Madam Wanton, with Adam the First, with one Discontent, and Shame ; four as deceitful vil- lains as a man can meet with upon the road. Hon. Yes, I believe I have heard of all this; but THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 497 indeed good Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame * he was an unwearied one. Great. Ay ; for, as the pilgrim well said, he of all men had the wrongs name. Hon. But pray, sir, where was it that Christian and Faithful met Talkative ? That same was also a nota- ble one. Great. He was a confident fool ; yet many follow his ways. Hon. He had like to have beguiled Faithful. Great. Ay, but Christian put him into a way quickly to find him out. Thus they went on till they came to the place where Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and pro- phesied to them what should befall them at Vanity Fair. Then said their guide. Hereabouts did Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who prophesied to them of what troubles they should meet with at Vanity Fair. Hon. Say you so ? I dare say it was a hard chapter that then he did read unto them.* Great. 'Twas so ; but he gave them encouragement withal. But what do we talk of them ? They were a couple of lion-like men ; they had set their faces like flint. Do not you remember how undaunted they were when they stood before the judge ? * The near prospect of persecution is formidable even to true be- lievers, notwithstanding' all the encouragements of God's word. It is therefore very useful to realize such scenes to our minds, and to consider how we should feel were they actually present; that we may be preserved from self-confidence; excited to diligence in every thing connected with the assurance of hope ; put on our guard against every action or engagement which might weaken our confidence in God ; and pray without ceasing, for that measure of wisdom, fortitude, patience, meekness, faith and love, which might be sufficient for us, should matters come to the worst. 3N 498 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Hon. Well : Faithful bravely suffered. Great. So he did, and as brave things came on't; for Hopeful, and some others, as the story relates it, were converted by his death. Hon. Well, but pray go on; for you are well acquainted with things. Great. Above all that Christian met with after he had passed through Vanity Fair, one By-ends was the arch one. Hon. By-ends! what was he? Great. A very arch fellow, a downright hypocrite ; one that would be religious, whichever way the world went : but so cunning, that he would be sure never to lose or suffer for it. He had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion, and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn from opinion to opinion ; yea, and plead for so doing, too. But so far as I could learn, he came to an ill end with his by-ends ; nor did I ever hear that any of his children were ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God. Now by this time they were come within sight of THET COME WITHIN tho towH of Vauitv, where Vanity Fair SIGHT OF VANITY '' '' '''"''• is kept. So, when they saw that they were so near the town, they consulted with one another how they should pass through the town ; and some said one thing, and some another. At last Mr. Great-heart said, I have, as you may understand, often been a con- ductor of pilgrims through this town. Now, I am acquainted with one Mr. Mnason, a Cyprusian by nation, an old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. If you think good, said he, we will turn in there. Content, said old Honest; Content, said Christiana; Content, said Mr. Feeble-mind ; and so they said all. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 499 Now you must think that it was eventide by that they got to the outside of the town ; but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old man's house. So thither they came; and he called at the door, and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as ever he heard it ; so he opened, and they all came in. Then they enter into ■^ ONE MR. MNASON'8 said Mnason their host, How far have ve ''" '•°"°= come to-day ? So they said, From the house of Gaius our friend. I promise you, said he, you have gone a good stitch. You may well be weary ; sit down. So they sat down. Then said their guide, Come, what cheer, good sirs ? I dare say you are welcome to my friend. I also, said Mr. Mnason, do bid you welcome ; and whatever you want, do but say, and we will do what we can to get it for you. Hon. Our great want a while since was harbour and good company, and now I hope we have they are glad op , f ENTERTAINMENT. both. Mnas. For harbour, you see what it is ; but for good company, that will appear in the trial. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have the pil- grims up into their lodging? I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he had them to their respective places ; and also showed them a very fair dining-room, where they might be, and sup together until the time was come to go to rest. Now when they were seated in their places, and were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest asked his landlord if there were any store of good people in the town. Mnas. We have a few ; for indeed they are but a few, when compared with them on the other side. SOME SENT FOR 500 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Hon. But how shall we do to see some of them? se7sJm"e''o? THE for the sight of good men to them that GOOD PEOPLE OF • 'l • • I'l 1 THE TOWN. are gomg on pilgrmiage, is like to the appearing of the moon and stars to them that are sailing upon the seas.* Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and his daughter Grace came up. So he said unto her, Grace, go you, tell my friends, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy- man, Mr. Love-saints, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, that I have a friend or two at my house that have a mind this evening to see them. So Grace went to call them, and they came; and after salutation made, they sat down together at the table. Then said Mr. Mnason their landlord. My neigh- bours, I have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house ; they are pilgrims : they come from afar, and are going to mount Zion. But who, quoth he, do you think this is? pointing his finger to Christiana. It is Christiana the wife of Christian, the famous pil- grim, who with Faithful his brother was so shamefully handled in our town. At that they stood amazed, saying. We little thought to see Christiana when Grace came to call us; wherefore this is a very comfortable surprise. They then asked her of her welfare, and if these young men were her husband's sons. And when she had told them they were, they said, The King whom you love and serve make you as your father, and bring you where he is in peace. Then Mr. Honest (when they were all sat down) * Even in those populous cities, where vanity most prevails, and where persecution at some seasons has most raged, a remnant of real Christians generally reside; and believers will in every place inquire after such persons and associate with them. (Psa. cxix. 63. 1 John iii. 14.) THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 501 SOME TALK BE- TWIXT MR. HONEST AND MR. CONTRITE. T H E K R n I T OF W ATCHKULNESS. asked Mr. Contrite and the rest, in what posture their town was at present. CoNTR. You may be sure we are full of hurry in fair-time. 'Tis hard keeping our hearts and spirits in good order when we are in a cumbered condition. He that lives in such a place as this is, and that has to do with such as we have, has need of an item to caution him to take heed every moment of the day. Hon. But how are your neighbours now for quietness? CoxTR. They are much more moderate now than formerly. You know how Christian and persecution not Faithful were used at our town; but of "^"^ "' formerly. late, I say, they have been far more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth with a load upon them till now; for since they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any more. In those days we were afraid to walk the streets ; but now we can show our heads. Then the name of a professor was odious ; now, especially in some parts of our town, (for you know our town is large,) religion is counted honourable. Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray, how fared it with you in your pilgrimage? how stands the country affected towards you? Hon. It happens to us, as it happeneth to wayfaring men: — sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul; sometimes up-hill, sometimes down-hill ; we are seldom at a certainty. The wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs already, and what are yet behind we know not ; but for the most part we find it true that has been talked of old, A good man must suffer trouble. 502 TPE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. CoNTR. You talk of rubs j what rubs have you met withal ? Hon. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart our guide; for he can give the best account of that. Great. We have been beset three or four times already. First, Christiana and her children were beset by two ruffians, that they feared would have taken away their lives. We were beset by Giant Bloody- man, Giant Maul, and Giant Slay-good. Indeed, we did rather beset the last than were beset of him. And thus it was : after we had been some time at the house of Gains mine host, and of the whole church, we were minded upon a time to take our weapons with us, and go see if we could light upon any of those that are enemies to pilgrims; for we heard that there was a notable one thereabouts. Now Gains knew his haunt better than I, because he dwelt thereabout. So we looked, and looked, till at last we discerned the mouth of his cave : then we were glad, and plucked up our spirits. So we approached up to his den; and, lo, when we came there, he had dragged, by mere force, into his net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and w^as about to bring him to his end. But when he saw us, supposing as w^e thought, he had another prey, he left the poor man in his hole, and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and he lustily laid about him; but, in con- clusion, he was brought down to the ground, and his head cut off, and set up by the wayside, for a terror to such as should after practise such ungodliness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man himself to affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the mouth of the lion. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true, to my MR. holy-man';! SPEECH. MR. LOVE-SAINTS' SPEECH. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 503 cost and comfort : to my cost, when he threatened to pick my bones every moment; and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends, with their weapons, approach so near for my dehverance. Then said Mr. Holy-man, There are two things that they have need to be possessed with who go on pilgrimage; courage, and an un- spotted life. If they have not courage, they can never hold on their way ; and if their lives be loose, they will make the very name of a pilgrim stink. Then said Mr. Love-saints, I hope this caution is not needful among you. But truly there are many that go upon the road, that rather declare themselves strangers to pilgrimage, than strangers and pilgrims on the earth. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, 'Tis true. They neither have the pilgrim's weed, nor the pilgrim's courage ; they go not uprightly, but all awry with their feet ; one shoe goes inward, another outward ; and their hosen out behind ; here a rag, and there a rent, to the disparagement of their Lord. These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be troubled for; nor are the pilgrims like to „ have that grace put upon them and their Pilgrim's Progress as they desire, until the way is cleared of such spots and blemishes. Thus thev sat talking and spending the time until supper was set upon the table, unto which they went, and refreshed their weary bodies : so they went to rest. Now they staid in the fair a great w^hile at the house of this Mr. Mnason, who in process of time gave his daughter Grace unto Samuel, Christiana's son, to wife, and his daughter Martha to Joseph. MR. DARE-NOT-LIE HIS SPEECH. R. PENITENT, HIS SPEECH. 504 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. The time, as I said, that they lay here, was long, for it was not now as in former times. Wherefore the pilgrims grew acquainted with many of the good people of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was wont, laboured much for the poor : wherefore their bellies and backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her profession. And, to say the truth for Grace, Phebe, and Martha, they were all of a very good nature, and did much good in their places. They were also all of them very fruitful ; so that Christian's name, as was said before, was like to live in the world. While they lay here, there came a monster out of A MONSTER, the woods, and slew many of the people of the town. It would also carry away their children, and teach them to suck its whelps. Now, no man in the town durst so much as face this monster; but all fled when they heard the noise of his coming. The monster was like unto no one beast on the earth. HIS SHAPE. Its body was like a dragon, and it had seven heads and ten horns.' It made great havoc of children, and yet it was governed by a woman. This monster HisNATDRE. propouudcd couditious to mcu J and such men as loved their lives more than their souls, accepted of those conditions. So they came under. Now Mr. Great-heart, together with those who came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason's house, entered into a covenant to go and engage this beast, if perhaps they might deliver the people of this town from the paws and mouth of this so devouring a serpent. Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy- man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, with their 1 Rev. xvii. 3. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 505 weapons, go forth to meet him. Now the monster at first was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great disdain; but they so belaboured "no\gL'.^ him, being sturdy men at arms, that they made him make a retreat: so they came home to Mr. Mnason's house again. The monster, you must know, had his certain seasons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town. At these seasons did these valiant worthies watch him and did still continually assault him ; insomuch that in process of time he became not only wounded, but lame. Also he has not made that havoc of the townsmen's children as formerly he had done ; and it is verily believed by 5ome, that this beast will die of his wounds. This therefore made Mr. Great-heart and his fellows of great fame in this town ; so that many of the people that wanted their taste of things, yet had a reverent esteem and respect for them. Upon this account there- fore it was, that these pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were some of the baser sort, that could see no more than a mole, nor understand any more than a beast ; these had no reverence for these men, nor took they notice of their valour and adventures.* * This seems to refer to the prevalence of popery for some time before the revolution in 1688; by which many nominal protestants were drawn aside, and numbers of children educated in the principles of that dark superstition. The favour or frown of the Prince and his party operated so powerfully, that worldly men in general yielded to the imposition : but several persons among the non-conformists, as well as the established church, did eminent service at that crisis by their preaching and writings, in exposing the delusions and abominations of that monstrous religion; and these endeavours were eventually the means of overturning the plan formed for the re-establisliment of popery in Britain. The disinterested and bold decided conduct of 30 506 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Well, the time grew on that the pilgrims must go on their way ; wherefore they prepared for their journey. They sent for their friends ; they conferred with them ; they had some time set apart therein to commit each other to the protection of their Prince. There were again that brought them of such things as they had, that were fit for the weak and the strong, for the women and the men, and so laded them with such things as were necessary.™ Then they set forward on their way ; and their friends accompanying them so far as was convenient, they again committed each other to the protection of their King, and parted. They therefore that were of the pilgrim's company went on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them. Now, the women and children being weakly, they were forced to go as they could bear ; by this means Mr. Ready-to- halt and Mr. Feeble-mind had more to sympathize with their condition. When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death. There- fore they made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his cross so well ; and the rather, because they now found that they had a benefit by such a manly suffering as his was. They went on therefore after this a good way further, talking of Christian and Faithful, and how Hopeful joined himself to Christian after that Faithful was dead. Ill Acts xxviii. 10. many dissenters, on this occasion, procured considerable favour, both to them and their brethren, with the best friends of the nation: but the prejudices of others prevented them from reaping all the advan- tage from it that they ought to have done. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 507 Now they were come up with the hill Lucre, where the silver mine was which took Demas off from his pil- grimage, and into which, as some think, By-ends fell and perished; wherefore they considered that. But when they were come to the old moimment that stood over against the hill Lucre, to wit, to the pillar of salt, that stood also within view of Sodom and its stinkinsf lake, they marvelled, as did Christian before, that men of that knowledge and ripeness of wit as they were should be so blinded as to turn aside here. Only they considered again, that nature is not affected with the harms that others have met with, especially if that thing upon which they look has an attracting virtue upon the foolish eye. I saw now that they went on till they came to the river that was on this side of the Delectable Moun- tains ; — to the river where the fine trees grow on both sides, and whose leaves, if taken inwardly, are good against surfeits : where the meadows are green all the year long; and where they might lie down safely." By this river side, in the meadows, there were cotes and folds for sheep, a house built for the nourishing and bringing up of those lambs, the babes of those women that go on pilgrimage. Also there was here one that was entrusted with them, who could have compassion ; and that could gather these lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and that could gently lead those that were with young." Now, to the care of this man Christiana admonished her four daughters to commit their little ones, that by these waters they might be housed, harboured, succoured, and nourished, and that none of them might be lacking in time to n Psalm xziii. o Heb. v. 3. Isa. xl. 11. 508 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. come. This man, if any of them go astray, or be lost, will bring them again j he will also bind up that which was broken, and will strengthen them that are sick.P Here they will never want meat, drink, and clothing; here they will be kept from thieves and robbers; for this man will die before one of those committed to his trust shall be lost. Besides, here they shall be sure to have good nurture and admonition, and shall be taught to walk in right paths, and that you know is a favour of no small account.* Also here, as you see, are delicate waters, pleasant meadows, dainty flowers, variety of trees, and such as bear wholesome fruit ; — fruit, not like that which Matthew ate of, that fell over the wall out of Beelzebub's garden ; but fruit that procureth health where there is none, and that continueth and increaseth it where it is. So they were content to commit their little ones to him; and that which was also an encouragement to them so to do, was, for that all this was to be at the charge of the p Jer. xxiii. 4. Ezek. xxxiv. 11 — 16. * Under this emblem we are taught the importance of early recom- mending our children to the faithful care of the Lord Jeius, by fervent prayer, with earnest desires of their eternal good, above all secular advantages whatsoever; consequently we ought to keep them at a dis- tance from such places, connexions, books, and companies, as may corrupt their principles and morals ; to instil such pious instructions as they are capable of receiving; to bring them early under the preaching of the gospel and to the ordinances of God ; and to avail ourselves of every help, in thus ' training them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.' For depraved natural propensities, the course of the world, the artifices of Satan, the inexperience, credulity, and sanguine expectations of youth, the importance of the case, and the precepts of Scripture, concur in requiring this conduct of us. Yet, after all, our minds must be anxious about the event, in proportion as we value their souls, except as we find relief, by commending them to the faithful care of that tender Shepherd, who 'gathers the lambs with his arm, and carries them in his bosom.' THEY BEING COME TO BY-PATH STILE, AVE A MIND TO AVE A PLUCK WITH GIANT DESPAIR. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 509 King, and so was an hospital to young children and orphans. Now they went on. And when they were come to By-path meadow, to the stile over which Christian went with his fellow Hopeful, •'« when they were taken by Giant Despair and put into Doubting-castle, they sat down, and con- sulted what was best to be done: to wit, now they were so strong, and had got such a man as Mr. Great- heart for their conductor, whether they had not best to make an attempt upon the giant, demolish his castle, and if there were any pilgrims in it, to set them at liberty, before they went any further. So one said one thing, and another said the contrary. One questioned if it was lawful to go upon unconsecrated ground; another said they might, provided their end was good ; but Mr. Great-heart said. Though tiiat assertion offered last cannot be universally true, yet I have a command- ment to resist sin, to overcome evil, to fight the good fight of faith : and I pray, with whom should I fight this good fight, if not with Giant Despair? I will therefore attempt the taking away of his life, and the demolishing of Doubting-castle. Then said he. Who will go with me? Then said old Honest, I will. And so will we too, said Christiana's four sons, Matthew, Samuel, Joseph, and James; for they were young men and strong."^ So they left the women in the road, and with them Mr. Feeble-mind, and Mr. Ready-to-halt with his crutches, to be their guard, until they came back; for in that place the Giant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the road, a little child might lead them.'' So Mr. Great-heart, old Honest, and the four young q 1 John ii. 13, 14. r Isa. xi. 6. DESPAIR HAS OVER COME ANGELS. 510 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. men, went to go up to Doubting-castle, to look for Giant Despair. When they came at the castle-gate, they knocked for entrance with an unusual noise At that the old giant comes to the gate, and Diffidence his wife follows. Then said he, Who and what is he that is so hardy, as after this manner to molest the Giant Despair ? Mr. Great-heart replied. It is I, Great-heart, one of the King of the Celestial Country's conductors of pilgrims to their place ; and I demand of thee that thou open thy gates for my entrance : prepare thyself also to fight, for I am come to take away thy head, and to demolish Doubting-castle. Now Giant Despair, because he was a giant, thought no man could overcome him : and again thought he, Since heretofore I have made a conquest of angels, shall Great-heart make me afraid ? So he harnessed himself, and went out. He had a cap of steel upon his head, a breast-plate of fire girded to him, and he came out in iron shoes, with a great club in his hand. Then these six men made up to him, and beset him behind and before : also when Diffidence the giantess came up to help him, old Mr. Honest cut her down at one blow. Then they fought for their lives, and Giant Despair was brought down to the ground, but was very loth to die. He struggled hard, and had, as they say, as many lives as a cat ; but Great-heart was his death, for he left him not till he had severed his head from his shoulders. Then they fell to demolishing Doubting-castle, and that you know might with ease be done, since Giant Despair was dead. They were seven days in destroying of that ; and in it of DESPAIR IS LOTH TO DIE. 0 0 1! BTI NG-C ASTLE DEMOLISHED. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 511 pilgrims they found one Mr. Despondency, almost starved to death, and one Much-afraid, his daughter: these two they saved alive. But it would have made you a-wondered to have seen the dead bodies that lay here and there in the castle-yard, and how full of dead men's bones the dungeon was. When Mr. Great-heart and his companions had per- formed this exj)loit, they took Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much-afraid, into their protection; for they were honest people, though they were prisoners in Doubting-castle to that tyrant Giant Despair. They, therefore, I say, took with them the head of the giant, (for his body they had buried under a heap of stones,) and down to the road and to their companions they came, and showed them what they had done. Now, when Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt saw that it was the head of Giant Despair indeed, they were very jocund and merry. Now, Christiana, if they have music •' "^ _ AND DANCING FOR need was, could play upon the viol, and •"''^• her daughter Mercy upon the lute : so since they were so merry disposed, she played them a lesson, and Ready- to-halt would dance. So he took Despondency's daughter Much-afraid, by the hand, and to dancing they went in the road. True, he could not dance without one crutch in his hand, but I promise you, he footed it well : also the girl was to be commended, for she an- swered the music handsomely. As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not so much to him ; he was for feeding, rather than dancing, for that he was almost starved. So Christiana gave him some of her bottle of spirits for present relief, and then pre- pared him something to eat ; and in a little time the old gentleman came to himself, and began to be finely revived. 512 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now I saw in my dream, when all these things were finished, Mr. Great-heart took the head of Giant De spair, and set it upon a pole by the highway-side, right over against the pillar that Christian erected for a caution to pilgrims that came after, to take heed of entering into his grounds.* * The following lines are here added, as in other places : — ' Though Doubting-Castle be demolished, And Giant Despair too has lost his head ; Sin can rebuild the Castle, make 't remain, And make Despair the Giant live again.' — Indeed they seem to be much wanted ; for the exploit of destroying Doubting-Castle, and killing Giant Despair, is more liabe to exception th'cn any incident in the whole work. To relieve the minds of such as are dis- couraged in the path of duty, or when inquiring the way of salvation, i? doubtless a most important service in the cause of Christ. This is repre- sented by the attempts made to mend the road over the Slough of Despond ; but By-path Meadow ought to lead to Doubting-Castle; such inward dis- tresses are as useful to Christians as any other rebukes and corrections, by which their loving Friend renders them watchful and circumspect. Could this order be reversed, it would give strength to temptation, and tend to embolden men to seek relief from difficulties by transgression; for the apprehension of subsequent distress is one grand preventive, even to the believer, when such measures are suggested to his mind. Indeed this is the Lord's method of performing his covenant to his people; 'I will,' says he, ' put my fear in their hearts, that they shall not depart from me.' (Jer. xxxii, 40.) If therefore love be not in lively exercise, he has so ordered it, that fear should intervene, to prevent worse consequences. So that, when be- lievers have not only departed from the way, but have also fallen asleep on forbidden ground, their alarms and doubts are salutary, though often ground- less and extreme; and should any man, by preaching or writing, be able to prevent all the despondings of such persons, previous to their repentance and its happy effects, he would subserve the design of the tempter, and counteract the Lord's plan. We can, with propriety, do no more in this case, than encourage the fallen to repent and seek forgiveness, by the general truths, invitations, and promises of Scripture; and comfort them, when penitent, by suitable topics, ' that they may not be swallowed up of overmuch sorrow.' But though this part of the allegory is liable to some objection, or capable of being abused ; yet it is probable, that the author only intended to show, that the labours of faithful ministers, with the con- verse and prayers of such believers as are strong in faith, may be very THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 513 Then he wrote under it upon a marble stone these verses following : — This is the head of him, whose name only In former times did pilgrims terrify. His castle 's down, and Diffidence his wife Brave Mr. Great-heart has bereft of life. Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid, ^ monoment of n 1 /. . 11 .11 DELIVERANOB. ureat-heart lor them also the man has played. Who hereof doubts, if he '11 but cast his eye Up hither may his scruples satisfy. This head also, when doubting cripples dance, Doth show from fears they have deliverance. When these men had thus bravely showed themselves against Doubting-Castle, and had slain Giant Despair, they went forward, and went on till they came to the Delectable Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed themselves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted themselves with the Shepherds there, who welcomed them, as they had done Christian before, unto the Delectable Mountains. Now the Shepherds seeing so great a train follow Mr. Great-heart, (for with him they were well ac- quainted,) they said unto him. Good sir, you have got a goodly company here; pray where did you find all these ? Then Mr. Great-heart replied : — First, here is Christiana and her train. Her sons, and her son's wives, who like the wain, theocidb'b Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer From sin to grace, else they had not been here. Next here 's old Honest come on pilgrimage. Ready-to-halt too, who I dare engage useful in recovering the fallen, and relieving them that are ready to despond ; and of thus preventing the more durable and dreadful effects of the we/»Jr hpijfiver's transgressions. 3P SPEECH TO THE SBBP- UERDS. THEIR ENTE TAINMENT. 514 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, Who willing was not to be left behind. Despondency, good man, is coming after, And so also is Much-afraid, his daughter. May we have entertainment here, or must We further go ? Let's know whereon to trust. Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable com- pany. You are welcome to us ; for we have for the R. feeble, as well as for the strong. Our Prince has an eye to what is done to the least of these ; therefore infirmity must not be a block to our entertainment. So they had them to the palace-door, and then said unto them, Come in, Mr. Feeble-mind, come in, Mr. Ready-to-halt, come in, Mr. Despondency, and Mrs. Much-afraid his daughter. These, Mr. Great- heart, said the Shepherds to the guide, we call in by name, for that they are most subject to draw back ; but as for you, and the rest that are strong, we leave you to your wonted liberty. Then said Mr. Great-heart, This day I see that grace doth shine in your faces, and that RiPTioNOF you are my Lord's Shepherds indeed; for that you have not pushed these dis- eased neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather strewed their way into the palace with flowers, as you should.^ So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great-heart and the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the Shepherds said to those of the weaker sort. What is it that you would have? for, said they, all things must be managed here to the supporting of the weak, as well as to the warning of the unruly. So they made them a feast of things easy of digestion, and that were pleasant to the palate, and nourishing ; the which A DESC FALSE SHEPHERDS. s Matt. XXV. 40. t Ezek. xxxiv. 31. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 515 when they had received, they went to their rest, each one respectively unto his proper place. When morning was come, because the mountains were high and the day clear, and because it was the custom of the Shepherds to show the pilgrims before their departure some rarities, therefore after they were ready, and had refreshed themselves, the Shepherds took them out into the fields, and showed them first what they had shown to Christian before. Then they had them to some new places. The first was Mount Marvel, where they looked, and mount marvel. beheld a man at a distance, that tumbled the hills about with words. Then they asked the Shepherds what that should mean. So they told them, that that man was the son of one Mr. Great-grace, of whom you read in the first part of the records of the Pilgrim's Progress; and he is set there to teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble out of their ways, what difficulties they should meet w^ith, by faith." Then said Mr. Great-heart, I know him, he is a man above many.* Then they had them to another place, called Mount u Mark xi. 23, 24. * Faith, exercised on the promises, and according to the warrant of Scripture, engages the arm of Omnipotence on our side, as far as our duty or advantage, and the glory of God are concerned : so that strong faith will remove out of our way, every obstacle which prevents our progress. But many things seem to us to be insurmountable obstacles which are merely trials of our patience, or ' thorns in the flesh' to keep us humble ; no degree of faith therefore will remove them ; but believing prayer will be answered by inward strength communicated to our souls. ' The grace of the Lord Jesus will be sufficient for us:' 'his strength will be perfected in our weak- ness :' the burning bush shall not be consumed : and we shall be enabled to proceed, though in great weakness and with many trembling apprehensions. On the other hand, real hinderances frequently obstruct our path, 'because of our unbelief,' and because we neglect the proper means of increasing our faith. (Matt. xvii. 19—21.) 516 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. MODNT INNOCENCE. 11100061106. AhJ tlierc they saw a man clothed all in white ; and two men, Prejudice and Ill- will continually casting dirt upon him. Now, behold, the dirt, whatsoever they cast at him, would in a little time fall off again, and his garment would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast thereat. Then said the pil- grims. What means this ? The Shepherds answered, This man is named Godly-man, and this garment is to show the innocency of his life. Now, those that throw dirt at him, are such as hate his well-doing ; but, as you see the dirt will not stick upon his clothes, so it shall be with him that liveth innocently in the world. Who- ever they be that would make such men dirty, they labour all in vain; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that their innocence shall break forth as the light, and their righteousness as the noonday.* Then they took them, and had them to Mount MODNT CHARITY. Charity, where they showed them a man that had a bundle of cloth lying before him, out of which he cut coats and garments for the poor that stood about him ; yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. Then said they. What should this be ? This is, said the Shepherds, to show you, that he who has a heart to give of his labour to the poor, shall never want * This and the subsequent emblems are sufficiently explained, and only require to be duly considered with reference to their practical import. It may, however, be observed, that some godly men have been suspected of crimes charged upon them by prejudiced persons, of which they are entirely innocent: yet, perhaps, this will be found to have originated from some misconduct in other respects, or from want of circumspection in 'avoiding the appearance of evil;' so that the general rule may be allowed to be valid ; and they who feel themselves to be exceptions to it will do well to examine whether they have not, by indiscretion, at least, exposed themselves to this painful trial. I apprehend most of us have cause enough in this respect for humiliation and patience. THfi PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 517 wherewithal. He that watereth shall be watered him- self. And the cake that the widow gave to the prophet, did not cause that she had the less in her barrel. They had them also to the place where they saw one Fool and one Want-wit, washinjr an the work of one ~ FOOL AND ONE WANT* Ethiopian, with intention to make him ''"^• white ; but the more they washed him, the blacker he was. Then they asked the Shepherds what that should mean. So they told them, saying. Thus it is with the vile person; all means used to get such a one a good name, shall in conclusion tend but to make him more abominable. Thus it was with the pharisees ; and so it shall be with all hypocrites. Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christiana her mother, Mother, I would, if it might mercy has a mind ' ^ TO SEE THE HOLE IN be, see the hole in the hill, or that com- '^''^ '"'-''■ monly called the By-way to hell. So her mother brake her mind to the Shepherds. Then they went to the door ; it was on the side of an hill ; and they opened it, and bid Mercy hearken a while. So she hearkened, and heard one saying, Cursed be my father for holding of my feet back from the way of peace and life. Another said, Oh, that I had been torn in pieces before I had, to save my life, lost my soul ! And another said. If I were to live again, how would I deny myself, rather than come to this place ! Then there was as if the very earth had groaned and quaked under the feet of this voung woman for fear ; so she looked white, and came trembling away, saying. Blessed be he and she that is delivered from this place ! Now when the Shepherds had shown them all these things, then they had them back to the palace, and entertained them with what the house would afford. 518 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. But Mercy, being a young and breeding woman, longed MERCY LONGETH, ^1' something that she saw there, but AND FOR WHAT. i i ^ 1 TT i.1 * 1 was ashamed to ask. Her mother-m-Iaw then asked her what she ailed, for she looked as one not well. Then said Mercy, There is a looking-glass hangs up in the dining-room, off which I cannot take my mind : if, therefore, I have it not, I think I shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I will mention thy wants to the Shepherds, and they will not deny it thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men should know that I longed. Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame, but a virtue, to long for such a thing as that. So Mercy said. Then, mother, if you please, ask the Shepherds if they are willing to sell it. Now, the glass was one of a thousand. It would pre- ORD sent a man, one way, with his own fea- tures exactly ; and, turn it but another way, and it would show one the very face and simil- itude of the Prince of pilgrims himself. Yes, I have talked with them that can tell, and they have said that they have seen the very crown of thorns upon his head, by looking in that glass ; they have therein also seen the holes in his hands, his feet, and his side. Yea, such an excellency is there in this glass, that it will show him to one where they have a mind to see him, whether living or dead ; whether in earth, or in heaven ; whether in a state of humiliation, or in his exaltation ; whether coming to suffer, or coming to reign.^ Christiana therefore went to the Shepherds apart, (now the names of the Shepherds were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere,) and said unto them, There is one of my daughters, a breeding V James i. 23—25. 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 2 Cor. jii. 18. IT WAS THE W OF GOD. SHE DOTH NOT LOSE HER LONOINO. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 519 woman, that I think doth long for something that she hath seen in this house ; and she thinks that she shal miscarry if she should by you be denied. Experience. Call her, call her, she shall assuredly have what we can help her to. So they called her, and said to her, Mercy, what is that thing thou wouldst have ? Then she blushed, and said. The great glass tliat hangs up in the dining-room. So, Sincere ran and fetched it, and with a joyful consent it was given her. Then she bowed her head, and gave thanks, and said. By this I know that I have obtained favour in your eyes.* They also gave to the other young women such things as they desired, and to their husbands great commendations, for that they had joined with Mr. Great-heart in the slaying of Giant Despair, and the demolishinor of Doubting-castle. About Christiana's neck the Shepherds put a brace- let, and so did they about the necks of how the she?. •' herds ADORN THE her four daughters; also they put ear- piJ-o^'^is. rings in their ears, and jewels on their foreheads. When they were minded to go hence, they let them go in peace, but gave not to them those certain cautions which before w'ere given to Christian and his com- panion. The reason was, for that these had Great- heart to be their guide, who was one that was well acquainted with things, and so could give them their cautions more seasonably, to wit, even when the danger was nigh the approaching. What cautions Christian * The Holy Scriptures, revealing to us the mysteries and perfections of God, showing us our own real character and condition, and discovering Christ and his salvation to our souls, are represented under this emblem. Every true believer longs to be more completely acquainted with them from day to day, and to look into them continually. 520 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. and his companion had received of the Shepherds, they had also lost by that the time was come that they had need to put them in practice. Wherefore, here was the advantage that this company had over the other.* From thence they went on singing, and they said, Behold how fitly are the stages set For their relief that pilgrims are become, And how they us receive without one let, , That make the other life our mark and home ! What novelties they have to us they give. That we, though pilgrims, joyful lives may live. They do upon us, too, such things bestow, That show we plgrims are where'er we go. * The author embraces every opportunity of pointing out the important advantages of the pastoral office, when faithfully executed ; by which he meant the regular care of a stated minister over a company of professed Christians who are his peculiar charge, have voluntarily placed themselves under his instructions, seek counsel from him in all their difficulties, and pay regard to his private admonitions ; being convinced that he uprightly seeks their spiritual welfare, and is capable of promoting it. Nothing so much tends to the establishment and consistent conduct of believers, or the permanent success of the gospel, as a proper reciprocal attention of pastors and their flocks to each other. A general way of preaching and hearing, with little or no connexion, cordial, unreserved intercourse, or even ac- quaintance, between ministers and their congregations ; with continual changes from one place to another, may tend to spread a superficial know- ledge of evangelical truth more widely: but, through the want of season- able reproof, counsel, encouragement, or admonition, the general directions delivered from the pulpit will seldom be recollected when they are most wanted. Hence it is, that professors so often miss their way, are taken in the Flatterer's net, and fall asleep on the Enchanted Ground : and a faithful guide, ever at hand, to give the caution or direction at the time, is the pro- per remedy, for which no adequate substitute can be found. But, as it is much easier to preach at large on general topics, and, after a few sermons delivered in one congregation, to go over the same ground again in another place; than to perform duly the several parts of the arduous office, which is sustained by the stated pastor of a regular congregation : and as it is far more agreeable to nature, to be exempted from private admonitions, than to be troubled with them, it may be feared, that this important subject will not at present be duly attended to. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 521 When they were gone from the Shepherds, they quickly came to the place where Christian met with one Turn-away, that dwelt in the town of Apostasy. Wherefore of him Mr. Great-heart their guide did now put them in mind, saying. This is the place where Chris- tian met with one Turn-away, who carried with him the character of his rebellion at his back. And this I have to say concerning this man ; — he would hearken to no counsel, but once a falling, persuasion could not stop him. When he came to the place where how one turn. the cross and sepulchre were, he did meet "'' apostasy. with one that bid him look there ; but he gnashed with his teeth, and stamped, and said he was resolved to go back to his own town. Before he came to the gate, he met with Evangelist, who offered to lay hands on him, to turn him into the way again. But this Turn-away resisted him, and having done much despite unto him, he got away over the wall, and so escaped his hand. Then they went on ; and just at the place where Little-faith formerly was robbed, there stood a man with his sword drawn, and his face all over with blood. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Wlio art thou ? The man made answer, saying, I am one whose name is Valiant- for-truth. I am a pilgrim, and am going to the Celestial City. Now, as I was in my way, there onevamantfor. •^ J ^ TRUTH BESET WITH were three men did beset me, and pro- '^'"'^^'^-s- pounded unto me these three things: 1. Whether I would become one of them. 2. Or go back from whence I came. 3. Or die upon the place.'" To the first I answered, I had been a true man for a long season, and therefore it could not be expected that I should now cast in my lot with thieves. Then they w Prov. i. 10—19. 3Q 522 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. demanded what I would say to the second. So I told them, the place from whence I came, had I not found incommodity there, I had not forsaken it at all ; but finding it altogether unsuitable to me, and very unpro- fitable for me, I forsook it for this way. Then they asked me what I said to the third. And I told them, my life cost far more dear than that I should lightly give it away. Besides, you have nothing to do thus ^ to put things to my choice ; wherefore at your peril be it if 3^ou meddle. Then these three, to wit. Wild- head, Inconsiderate, and Pragmatic, drew upon me, and I also drew upon them. So we fell to it, one against three, for the space of above three hours. They have left upon me, as you see, some of the marks of their valour, and have also carried away M'ith them some of mine. They are but just now THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 523 gone: I suppose they might, as the saying is, hear your horse dash, and so they betook themselves to flight.* Great. But here was great odds, three against one. Valiant. 'Tis true; but little or more are nothing to him that has the truth on his side: " Though an host should encamp against me," said one, " my heart shall not fear : though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident," &c. Besides, said he, I have read in some records, that one man has fought an army : and how many did Samson slay with the jawbone of an ass! Then said the guide. Why did you not cry out, that some might have come in for your succour ? Valiant. So I did, to my King, who I knew could hear me, and afford invisible help, and that was suffi- cient for me. Then said Great-heart to Mr. Valiant- for-truth, * From the names given to the opponents, with whom this Pilgrim fought, we may infer, that the author meant to represent by them certain wild en- thusiasts, who, not having ever duly considered any religious subject, offi- ciousl}^ intrude themselves in the way of professors: to perplex their minds, and persuade them, that unless they adopt their reveries or superstitions, they cannot be saved. An ungovernable imagination, a mind incapable of sober reflection, and a dogmatizing spirit, characterize these enemies of the truth: they assault religious persons with specious reasonings, cavilling objections, confident assertions, bitter reproaches, proud boastings, sarcas- tical censures, and rash judgments : they endeavour to draw them over to their party, or to drive them from attending to religion at all ; or to terrify them with the fears of damnation, in their present endeavours to serve God, and find his salvation. Whatever company of persons we suppose that the author had in view, we may learn from the passage, what our strength, hope, and conduct ought to be, when we are thus assaulted. The word of God, used in faith, and with fervent and persevering prayer, will enable us at length to silence such dangerous assailants : and if we be valiant for the truth, and meekly contend for it, amidst revilings, menaces, and contempt, ve may hope to confirm others also, and to promote the common cause. 524 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Thou hast worthily behaved thyself; let me see thy sword. So he showed it him. * When he had taken it in his hand, and looked there on a while, he said. Ha ! it is a right Jerusalem blade. Valiant. It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, with a hand to wield it and skill to use it, and he may venture upon an angel with it. He need not fear its holding, if he can but tell how to lay on. Its edge will never blunt. It will cut flesh and bones, and soul and spirit, and all. Great. But you fought a great while ; I wonder you were not weary. Valiant. I fought till my sword did cleave to my THE Ta^th.' hand ; and then they were joined together as if a sword grew out of my arm, and when the blood BLOOD, ran through my fingers, then I fought with most courage. Great. Thou hast done well ; thou hast resisted unto blood, striving against sin. Thou shalt abide by us, come in and go out with us; for we are thy com- panions. Then they took him, and washed his wounds, and gave him of what they had, to refresh him : and so they went on together. Now, as they went on, because Mr. Great-heart was delighted in him, (for he loved one greatly that he found to be a man of his hands,) and because there were in company they that were feeble and weak, therefore he questioned with him about many things ; as, first, what countryman he was. Valiant. I am of Dark-land ; for there was I born, and there my father and mother are still. Dark-land, said the guide; doth not that lie on the same coast with the city of Destruction ? THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 525 Valiant. Yes, it doth. Now, that which caused me to come on pils^rimao-e was this: We now mr. valiant •■ ^ C3 CAME TO GO ON PIL- had one Mr. Tell-true came into our °«'"^'"^- parts, and he told it about what Christian had done, that went from the city of Destruction ; namely, how he had forsaken his wife and children, and had betaken himself to a pilgrim's life. It was also confidently reported, how he had killed a serpent that did come out to resist him in his journey; and how he got through to whither he intended. It was also told what welcome he had at all his Lord's lodgings, especially when he came to the gates of the Celestial City ; for there, said the man, he was received with sound of trumpet by a company of shining ones. He told also how all the bells in the city did ring for joy at his reception, and what golden garments he was clothed with; with many other things that now I shall forbear to relate. In a word, that man so told the story of Christian and his travels that my heart fell into a burning haste to be gone after him; nor could father or mother stay me. So I got from them, and am come thus far on my way. Great. You came in at the gate, did you not? Valiant. Yes, yes ; for the same man also told us, that all would be nothing, if we did not he begins right. begin to enter this way at the gate. Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the pil- grimage of your husband, and what he christians namb has gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near. Valiant. Why, is this Christian's wife ? Great. Yes, that it is ; and these also are his four sons. 526 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Valiant. What, and going on pilgrimage too? Great. Yes, verily, they are following after. Valiant. It glads me at the heart. Good man, how HE IS MUCH RE- joyful will he be when he shall see them JOICED TO SEE "' *^ CHRISTIAN'S WIFE. ^jj^|. ^ould not go with him, yet to enter after him in at the gates into the Celestial City ! Great. Without doubt it will be a comfort to him ; for, next to the joy of seeing himself there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and children. Valiant. But now you are upon that, pray let me see your opinion about it. Some make a question, whether we shall know one another when we are there. Great. Do you think they shall know themselves then, or that they shall rejoice to see themselves in that bliss ? and if they think they shall know and do this, why not know others, and rejoice in their welfare also ? Again, since relations are our second self, though that state will be dissolved there, yet why may it not be rationally concluded, that we shall be more glad to see them there, than to see they are wanting ? Valiant. Well, I perceive whereabouts you are as to this. Have you any more things to ask me about my beginning to come on pilgrimage? Great. Yes ; were your father and mother willing that you should become a pilgrim? Valiant. Oh ! no ; they used all means imaginable to f)ersuade me to stay at home. Great. Why, what could they say against it ? Valiant. They said it was an idle life;* and if I * This hath been the reproach cast on religion in every age, Pharaoh paid to Moses and the Israelites, ' Ye are idle, ye are idle ; therefore ye say, let us go and do sacrifice to the Lord.' Men naturally imagine, that time THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 527 THE GREAT STUM- BLING-BLOCKS THAT THE FIRST STU.MB LING-BLOC K. myself were not inclined to sloth and laziness, I would never countenance a ""^ "" friends WERE Laid in nis pilgrim's condition. '''^''' Great. And what did they say else? Valiant. Why, they told me that it was a dangerous way ; yea, the most dangerous way in the world, say they, is that which the pilgrims go. Great. Did they show you wherein this way is so dangerous ? Valiant. Yes ; and that in many particulars. Great. Name some of them. Valiant. They told me of the Slough of Despond, where Christian was well nigh smothered. They told me, that there were archers standing ready in Beelzebub-castle, to shoot them who should knock at the Wicket-gate for entrance. They told me also of the wood and dark mountains ; of the hill Difficulty; of the lions; and also of the three giants. Bloody-man, Maul, and Slay-good. They said moreover, that there was a foul fiend haunted the Valley spent in the immediate service of God is wasted : should a Christian there- fore employ as many hours every week, in reading the Scriptures, in secret and social prayer, in pious discourse, and in attending on public ordinances, as his neighbour devotes to amusement and sensual indulgence; an outcry would speedily be made, about his idling away his time, and being in the way to beggar his family ! As this must be expected, it behoves all be- lievers to avoid every appearance of evil, and by exemplary diligence in their proper employments, a careful redemption of time, a prudent frugality in their expenses, and a good management of all their aflliirs, to ' put to silence the ignorance of foolish men.' For there are too many favourers of the gospel, who give plausibility to these slanders, by running from place to place, that they may hear every new preacher ; while the duties of tiie family, and of their station in the community are miserably neglected. They 'walk disorderly, working not at all, but are busy-bodies:' from these we ought to withdraw, and against such professors we should protest : for they are ' ever learning, but never able to come to the knowledge of the truth.' 528 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. of Humiliation; and that Christian was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the hob- goblins are, where the light is darkness, where the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. They told me also of Giant Despair, of Doubting-castle, and of the ruin that the pilgrims met with there. Further, they said I must go over the Enchanted Ground, which was dangerous ; and that after all this, I should find a river, over which there was no bridge ; and that that river did lie betwixt me and the Celestial Country. Great. And was this all ? Valiant. No. They also told me that this way was THE SECOND, full of dcceivcrs, and of persons that lay in wait there to turn good men out of the path. Great. But how did they make that out ? Valiant. They told me, that Mr. W"orldly-wise-man did lie there in wait to deceive. They said also, that there were Formality and Hypocrisy continually on the road. They said also, that By-ends, Talkative, or Demas, would go near to gather me up; that the Flat- terer would catch me in his net; or that, with green- headed Ignorance, I would presume to go on to the gate, from whence he was sent back to the hole that was in the side of the hill, and made to go the by-way to hell. Great. I promise you, this was enough to discourage you; but did they make an end there? Valiant. No, stay. They told me also of many that THE THIRD, had tricd that way of old, and that had gone a great way therein, to see if they could find something of the glory there that so many had so much talked of from time to time, and how they came back again, and THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 529 befooled themselves for setting a foot out of doors in that path, to the satisfaction of all the country. And Ihej named several that did so, as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust and Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more ; who, they said, had some of them gone far to see what they could find, but not one of them had found so much advantage by going as amounted to the weight of a feather.* Great. Said they anything more to discourage you ? Valiant. Yes. They told me of one Mr. Fearing, who was a pilgrim, and how he found his the fourth. way so solitary, that he never had a comfortable hour therein ; also that Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved therein : yea, and also (which I had almost forgot) that Christian himself, about whom there has been such a noise, after all his ventures for a celestial crown, was certainly drowned in the Black River, and never went a foot further ; however it was smothered up. Great. And did none of these things discourage you? * Worldly people, in opposing the gospel, descant abundantly on the folly and hypocrisy of religious persons; they pick up every vague report thai they hear to their disadvantage, and narrowly watch for the halting of such as they are acquainted with; and then they form general conclusions, from a few particular, distorted, and uncertain stories! Thus they endeavour to prove, that there is no reality in religion, that it is impossible to find the way to heaven, and that it is better to be quiet than to bestow pains to no purpose. This frivolous sophistry is frequently employed, after all other arguments have been silenced. But it is vain to deny the existence of hypocrites and deceivers; or to excuse the evils to which they object: on the contrary, we should allow these representations, as far as there is any appearance of truth in them ; and then show that this teaches us to beware lest we be deceived, and to try every doctrine by the touchstone of God's word ; that counterfeits prove the value of the thing counterfeited ; that wo should learn to distinguish between the precious and the vile; and, finally, that while danger may attend a religious profession, irreligion in&urPt> destruction. 3R HOW HE GOT OVER THESE STUMBLING BLOCKS. 530 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Valiant. No ; they seemed but as so many nothings to me. Great. How came that about? Valiant. Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-truth had said ; and that carried me beyond them all. Great. Then this was your victory, even your faith. ValiAxNt. It was so. I believed, and therefore came out, got into the way, fought all that set themselves against me, and, by believing, am come to this place. Who would true valour see, Let him come hither; One here will constant be, Come wind, come weather; There's no discouragement Shall make him once relent His first avowed intent To be a pilgrim. Whoso beset him round With dismal stories, Do but themselves confound ; His strength the more is. No lion can him fright, He Ml with a giant fight. But he will have a right To be a pilgrim. Hobgoblin nor foul fiend Can daunt his spirit ; He knows he at the end Shall life inlierit. Then fancies fly away, He '11 not fear what men say ; He '11 labour niglit and day To be a pilgrim. By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, where the air naturally tended to make one drowsy THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 531 And that place was all grown over with briers and ihorns, excepting here and there, where was an en- chanted arbour, upon which if a man sits, or in which if a man sleeps, it is a question, some say, whether ever he shall rise or wake again in this world. Over this forest therefore they went, both one and another, and Mr. Great-heart went before, for that he was the guide ; and Mr. Valiant-for-truth came behind, being rear-guard, for fear lest peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand ; for they knew it was a dangerous place. Also they cheered up one another as well as they could. Feeble-mind, Mr. Great- heart commanded, should come up after him ; and Mr. Despondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant. Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and darkness fell upon them all ; so that they could scarce, for a great while, see the one the other. Wherefore they were forced, for some time, to feel one for another by words ; for they walked not by sight. But any one must think, that here was but sorry going for the best of them all ; but how much worse for the women and children, who both of feet and heart were but tender ! Yet so it was, that through the encouraging words of him that led in the front, and of him that brought them up behind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along. The w^ay also here was very wearisome, through dirt and slabbiness. Nor was there, on all this ground, so much as one inn or victualling-house wherein to refresh the feebler sort. Here, therefore, was grunting, and puffing, and sighing, while one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt, and the children, some 532 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. of them, lost their shoes in the mire ; — while one cries out, I am down ; and another, Ho, where are you ? and a third. The bushes have got such fast hold on me, 1 think I cannot get away from them. Then they came at an arbour, warm, and promising AN ARBOUR ON much refreshing to the pilgrims; for it THE ENCHANTED f 1 1 i 1 111 i*i2 1 GROUND. was finely wrought above-head, beautmed with greens, furnished with benches and settles. It also had in it a soft couch, whereon the weary might lean. This, you must think, all things considered, was tempting ; for the pilgrims already began to be foiled with the badness of the way : but there was not one of them that made so much as a motion to stop there. Yea, for aught I could perceive, they continually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature of dangers when they were at them, that usually when they were nearest to them, they did most pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another to deny the flesh. This arbour was called The Slothful's Friend, on purpose to allure, if it might be, some of ,the pilgrims there to take up their rest when weary.* * This view of the Enchanted Ground seems to vary from that which has been considered in the First Part. The circumstances of believers who are deeply engaged in business, and constrained to spend much time among worldly people, may here be particularly intended. This may sometimes be unavoidable; but it is enchanted ground: many professors, fascinated by the advantages and connexions thus presented to them, fall asleep, and wake'no more : and others are entangled by those thorns and briers, which ' choke the word, and render it unfruitful.' The more soothing the scene the greater the danger, and the more urgent need is there for watchfulness and circumspection : the more vigilant believers are, the greater uneasiness will such scenes occasion them ; as they will be so long out of their proper element . and the weaker and more unestablished men are, the more apt will they be, in such circumstances, to yield to discouragement. The so- ciety and counsel of faithful ministers and Christian friends may help them THE NAME OF THE ARBOUR. THE WaT diffi- cult TO FIND. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 533 I saw then in my dream, that they went on in this their solitary ground, till they came to a place at which a man is apt to lose his way. Now, though when it was light their guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand, the guide has But he had in his pocket a map of all ways 1^^%^, fromthe leading to or from the Celestial City; wherefore he struck a light, (for he never goes without his tinder- box also,) and takes a view of his book or map, which bids him to be careful in that place to turn to the right hand. And, had he not been careful here to look in his map, they had all, in probability, been smothered in the mud, for just a little before them, and that at the end of the cleanest way too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of nothing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the pilgrims in. Then thought I with myself. Who that goeth on pilgrimage but would have one of these qods book. maps about him, that he may look when he is at a stand which is the way he must take?* to get on : but they will often feel that their path is miry and slippery, en- tangling and perplexing, dark and wearisome to their souls. Yet if this be the case, their sighs, complaints, and prayers, are hopeful symptoms : but when worldly employments and connexions, which perhaps at first were in a sense unavoidable, induce prosperity, and men seek comfort from this prosperity, instead of considering it as a snare or burden, or improving it as a talent ; then the professor falls asleep in the enchanted arbour. It be- hoves, however, all who love their souls, to shun that hurry of business, and multiplicity of aifairs and projects, into which many are betrayed by degrees, in order to supply increasing expenses, that might be avoided by strict frugality and more moderate desires : for these things lade the soul with thick clay; are a heavy weight to the most upright; render a man's way doubtful and joyless; and 'drown many in destruction and perdition.' * This emblem inculcates the duty of constant attention to the preceprs and counsels of Scripture, as well as reliance on its promises; and of an AN ARBOUR ANDTW ASLEEP THEREIN. 534 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then they went on in this Enchanted Ground, till o they came to where there was another arbour, and it was built by the highway- side. And in that arbour there lay two men, whose names were Heedless and Too-bold. These two went thus far on pilgrimage ; but here, being wearied with their journey, sat down to rest themselves, and so fell fast asleep. When the pilgrims saw them, they stood still, and shook their heads, for they knew that the sleepers were in a pitiful case. Then they consulted what to do, whether to go on and leave them in their sleep, or to step to them and try to awake them. So they concluded to go to them and try to awake them ; that is, if they could; but with this caution, namely, to take heed that they themselves did not sit down, nor embrace the offered benefit of that arbour. So they went in, and spake to the men, and called each by his name, for the guide it seems did know them ; but there was no voice nor answer. Then the guide did shake them, and do what he could to disturb them. Then said one of them, I will pay you when I take my money. At which the guide shook his head. I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my hand, said the other. At that, one of the children laughed. Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this ? NDEAvoDR Thc guldo Said, They talk in their sleep. If you strike them, beat them, or whatever else you do to them, they will answer you after this habitual application to the Lord by prayer, to teach us the true meaning of his word, that we may learn the way of peace and safety, in the most diffi- cult and doubtful cases ; and the advantage of consulting such ministers, as are most experienced in the ways of God, and most conversant with his sacred oracles. THE PILGRIMS TRY TO AWAKE THEM. THEIR E IS FRUITLESS, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 535 fashion ; or, as one of them said in old time, when the waves of the sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast of a ship. When I awake, I will seek it again/ You know, when men talk in their sleep, they say any thing, but their words are not governed either by faith or reason. There is an inco- herency in their words now, as there was before betwixt their going on pilgrimage and sitting down here. This, then, is the mischief of it ; — when heedless ones go on pilgrimage, 'tis twenty to one but they are served thus ; for this Enchanted Ground is one of the last refuges that the enemy to pilgrims has ; wherefore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of the way, and so it standeth against us with the more advantage. For when, thinks the enemy, will these fools be so desirous to sit down as when they are weary ? and when so like to be weary as when almost at their journey's end? Therefore it is, I say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the land Beulah, and so near the end of their race. Wherefore let pilgrims look to them- selves, lest it happen to them as it has done to these that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and none can awake them.* X Prov. xxiii. 34, 35. * Such men as take up a profession of the gospel, in a heedless manner, and proceed with an overbearing confidence, the result of pride and igno- rance, may long maintain a form of godliness, though it be a weariness to them : but after a time they will gradually be drawn back into the world, retaining nothing of their religion, except certain distorted doctrinal notions. They find excuses for their conduct from false maxims, and bad examples; they fall asleep in the arms of worldly prosperity ; nothing can awaken them to fear, or self-suspicion; but they will, as it were, talk in their sleep ^bout religion, in so incoherent a manner, as to excite the laughter of children; while they who understand the case will bewail their deplorable delusion. Such awful examples should excite us to redoubled diligence, in THE LIGHT OF THE WORD. VBB CHILDREN CRT FOR WEARINESS. 536 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Then the pilgrims desired with trembling to go for- ward ; only they prayed their guide to strike a light, that they might go the rest of their way by the help of the light of a lantern. So he struck a light, and they went by the help of that through the rest of this way, though the darkness was very great/ But the children began to be sorely weary, and they cried out unto Him that loveth pilgrims to make their way more comfort- able. So by that they had gone a little farther, a wind arose, that drove away the fog; so the air became more clear. Yet they were not off (by much) of the Enchanted Ground; only now they could see one another better, and the way wherein they should walk. Now when they were almost at the end of this ground, they perceived that a little before them was a solemn noise, as of one that was much concerned. So they went on, and looked before them : and behold they saw, ■'T cpoN as they thought, a man upon his knees, with hands and eyes lifted up, and speak- ing, as they thought, earnestly to one that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell what he said: so they went softly till he had done. When he had done, he got up, and began to run towards the Celestial City. Then Mr. Great-heart called after him, saying, Soho, friend ! let us have your company, if you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial City. So the man stopped, and they came up to him. But as soon as y 2 Pet. i. l9. Bearching the Scriptures, and in prayer ; lest we too should be overcome with a destructive sleep, and perish in this fascinating way. For scenes of worldly prosperity have detected the hypocrisy of many, who have long persevered in an unsuspected professipn, amidst difficulties and trials. STANDFAS BIS KNEES EKCaA.NTED GROUND THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 537 Mr. Honest saw him, he said, I know this man. Then said Mr. Valiant-for-truth, Pr'ythee, who is it ? It is one, said he, that comes from whereabout I ^he story op dwelt. His name is Standfast; he is cer- "^'"'''^"• tainly a right good pilgrim. So they came up one to another. And presently Standfast said to old Honest, Ho, father Honest, are you there? Ay, said he, that I am, as sure talk bbtwixt HIM AND MR. as you are there. Right glad am I, said honest. Mr. Standfast, that I have found you on this road. And as glad am I, said the other, that I espied you on your knees. Then Mr. Standfast blushed, and said, But why, did you see me ? Yes, that I did, quoth the other, and with my heart was glad at the sight. Why, what did you thmk ? said Standfast. Think ! said old Honest ; what should I think ? I thought we had an honest man upon the road, and therefore should have his company by and by. If you thought not amiss, said Standfast, how happy am I ! But if I be not a? I should, 'tis I alone must bear it. That is true, said the other; but your fear doth further confirm me that things are right betwixt the Prince of pilgrims and your soul. For He saith, "Blessed is the man that feareth always." Valiant. Well but, brother, I pray thee tell us what was it that was the cause of thy being upon thy knees even now ? was it for that some special mercy laid obligations upon thee, or how ? Stand. Why, we are, as you see, upon the Enchanted Ground ; and as I was coming along, I was musing with myself of what a dan- ats kVees" gerous nature the road in this place was, and how many that had come even thus far on pilgrimage had here 3S TUET FOCND BIH AT PRAYER. WHAT ITWASTHAT FETCHED HIM nPOW 538 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. been stopped and been destroyed. I thought also of the manner of the death with which this place de- stroyeth men. Those that die here, die of no violent distemper : the death which such die is not grievous to them. For he that goeth away in a sleep, begins that journey with desire and pleasure. Yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. Then Mr. Honest interrupting him, said. Did you see the two men asleep in the arbour ? Stand. Ay, ay, I saw Heedless and Too-bold there ; and, for aught I know, there they will lie till they rot.'' But let me go on with my tale. As I was thus musing, as I said, there was one in very pleasant attire, but old, who presented herself to me, and offered me three things, to wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. Now, the truth is, I was both weary and sleepy : I am also as poor as an owlet, and that perhaps the witch knew. Well, I repulsed her once and again, but she put by my repulses, and smiled. Then I began to be angry , but she mattered that nothing at all. Then she made offers again, and said if I would be ruled by her, she would make me great and happy ; for, said she, I am the mistress of the world, and men are made happy by me. Then I asked her name, and she told me it was Madam Bubble. This set me further from her ; but she still followed me with entice- ments. Then I betook me, as you saw, to my knees, and with hands lifted up, and cries, I prayed to Him that had said he would help.* So just as you came up, z Prov. X. 7. * The case of Standfast shows us, that when believers feel the propensity of their hearts to yield to worldly proposals, it renders them jealous of them- selves, excites them to earnest prayer, and thus eventually tends to preserve .nem from the fatal delusions. MADAM BUBBLE OR THIS VAIN WORLD. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 539 the gentlewoman went her way. Then I continued to give thanks for this my great deUverance ; for I verily believe she intended no good, but rather sought to make stop of me in my journey. Hon. Without doubt her designs were bad. But, stay, now you talk of her, methinks I either have seen her, or have read some story of her. Stand. Perhaps you have done both. Hon. Madam Bubble! Is she not a tall, comely dame, something of a swarthy complexion ? Stand. Right, you hit it ; she is just such a one. Hon. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a smile at the end of a sentence ? Stand. You fall right upon it again, for these are her very actions. Hon. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side, and is not her hand often in it, fingering her money, as if that was her heart's delight ? Stand. 'Tis just so ; had she stood by all this while, you could not more amply have set her forth before me, nor have better described her features. Hon. Then he that drew her picture was a good limner, and he that wrote of her said true. Great. This woman is a witch, and it is by virtue of her sorceries that this ground is enchanted, the woRta Whoever doth lay his head down in her lap, had as good lay it down on that block over which the axe doth hang ; and whoever lay their eyes upon her beauty, are counted the enemies of God.* This is she that main- taineth in their splendour all those that are the enemies of pilgrims. Yea, this is she that hath bought off many a man from a pilgrim's life. She is a great a JaiB4s iv. 4. 1 John ii. 14, 15. 540 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. gossiperj she is always, both she and her daughters, at one pilgrim's heels or another, now commending, and then preferring the excellencies of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut: she will talk with any man. She always laugheth poor pilgrims to scorn, but highly commends the rich. If there be one cunning to get money in a place, she will speak well of him from house to house. She loveth banqueting and feasting mainly well ; she is always at one full table or another. She has given it out in some places that she is a goddess, and therefore some do worship her. She has her time, and open places of cheating; and she will say and avow it, that none can show a good comparable to hers. She promiseth to dwell with children's children, if they will but love her and make much of her. She will cast out of her purse gold like dust in some places and to some persons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in the bosoms of men. She is never weary of commending her commodities, and she loves them most that think best of her. She will promise to some crowns and kingdoms, if they will but take her advice ; yet many hath she brought to the halter, and ten thousand times more to hell. Oh! said Standfast, what a mercy is it that I did resist her ; for whither might she have drawn me ! Great. Whither ! nay, none but God knows whither. But in general, to be sure, she would have drawn thee into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.'' 'Twas she that set Absalom against his father, and Jeroboam against his master. 'Twas she that persuaded Judas to sell his Lord; and that prevailed with Demas to forsake the b 1 Tim. vi. 9. iK5 Lt LUI LL ft \j{\ THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 541 godly pilgrim's life. None can tell of the mischief that she doth. She makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, betwixt parents and children, betwixt neighbour and neighbour, betwixt a man and his wife, betwixt a man and himself, betwixt the flesh and the spirit. Wherefore, good Mr. Standfast, be as your name is; and when you have done all, stand. At this discourse there was among the pilgrims a mixture of joy and trembling ; but at length they broke out and sang : What danger is the pilgrim in ! How many are his foes ! How many ways there are to sin No living mortal knows. Some in the ditch are spoiled, yea, can Lie tumbling in the mire : Some, though they shun the frying-pan, Do leap into the fire. After this, I beheld until they were come into the land of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and day. Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves a while to rest. And because this country was common for pilgrims, and because the orchards and vineyards that were here belonged to the King of the Celestial Country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with any of his things. But a little while soon refreshed them here ; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sound so melodiously, that they could not sleep, and yet they received as much refreshing as if they slept their sleep never so soundly. Here also all the noise of them that walked the streets was. More pilgrims are come to town ! And another would answer, saying, And so many went over the water, and 542 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. were let in at the golden gates to-day ! They would cry again, There is now a legion of shining ones just come to town, by which we know that there are more pilgrims upon the road ; for here they come to wait for them, and to comfort them after all their sorrow. Then the pilgrims got up, and walked to and fro. But how were their ears now filled with heavenly noises, and their eyes delighted with celestial visions ! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelt nothing, tasted nothing, that was offensive to their stomach or mind ; only when they tasted of the DEATH BITTER TO watcr of thc Hvcr over which they were THE FLESH, BUT '' sw^E^ET TO THE ^q g^^ ^j-,gy thought that it tasted a little bitterish to the palate; but it proved sweet when it was down.* In this place there was a record kept of the names of them that had been pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous acts that they had done. It was here DEATH HAS ITS also uiuch discourscd, how the river to EBBINGS AND FLOW- iNGs, LIKE THE TIDE. gQj^g j^j^^j j^^^j j^g flowiugs, aud what ebbings it has had while others 'have gone over. It has been in a manner dry for some, while it has over- flowed its banks for others. In this place the children of the town would go into * The lively exercise of faith and hope, the anticipation of heavenly feli- city, and the consolations of the Holy Spirit, soon make the believer forget his conflicts and sorrows, or only remember them to enhance his grateful joy. This description represents the happy state of those that live in places, favoured with many lively Christians, united in heart and judgment ; and where instances of persons dying triumphantly are often reported or wit- nessed. It has frequently been observed, that aged believers, in such circumstances, have been remarkably delivered from fears and temptations, and animated by the hopes and earnests of heaven ; so that while death seemed bitter to nature, it became pleasant to the soul, to think of the joy and glory that would immediately follow it. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 543 the King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the pil- grims, and bring them to them with much affection. Here also grew camphire, with spikenard and saffrcn, calamus, and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankin- cense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. With these the pilgrims' chambers were perfumed while they stayed here; and with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the river when the time appointed was come. Now, while they lay here, and waited for the good hour, there was a noise in the town that there was a post come from the Celestial City, with matter a messenger op _ DEATH SENT TO of great importance to one Christiana, Christiana. the wife of Christian the pilgrim. So inquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was. So the post presented her with a letter. The contents were. Hail, good woman; I bring his message thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expect- eth that thou shouldst stand in his presence, in clothes of immortality, w^ithin these ten days. When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger, and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was, an arrow with a point sharpened with love, let easily into her heart, which by degrees wrought so effectually with her, that at the time appointed she must be gone.* * These messengers seem to be merely emblems of the different diseases or decays, by which the Lord takes down the earthly tabernacle, when he sees good to receive the souls of his people into his immediate presence. In plain language, it was reported that Christiana was sick and near death, and she herself became sensible of her situation. ' The arrow sharpened by love,' implies, that the time, manner, and circumstances of the believer's death are appointed by Him ' who loved us, and gave himself for us :' He, as it were, says to the dying saint, ' It is I, be not afraid.' HER SPEECH TOHER GUIDE. 544 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. When Christiana saw that her time was come, and oz^Wls "^^T^EM that she was the first of this company TODOBUTTo"orE! that was to go over, she called for Mr. Great-heart her guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the news, and could have been glad had the post come for him. Then she bid him that he should give advice how all things should be prepared for her journey. So he told her, saying. Thus and thus it must be, and we that survive will accompany you to the river side. Then she called for her children, and gave them her TO HER CHILDREN, blcsslug, aud toW them that she had read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she be- queathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and daughters to be ready against the mes- senger should come for them. When she had spoken these words to her guide, and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant- for-truth, and said unto him. Sir, you have in all places showed yourself true-hearted; be faithful unto death, and my King will give you a crown of life. I would also entreat you to have an eye to my children ; aud if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them. For my daughters, my sons' wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfilling of the promise upon them will be their end. But she gave ro MR. STANDFAST. M-T. Staudfast a ring. Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, TO OLD HONEST. " Bcliold aulsraelitc indeed, in whom is no guile." Then said he, I wish you a fair day when TO MR. VALIANT- roRTRUTH. TO MR. READT-TO- HALT. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 545 you set out for Mount Sion, and shall be glad to see that you go over the river dryshod. But she answered, Come wet, come dry, I long to be gone ; for however the weather is in my journey, I shall have time enough when I come there to sit down and rest me and dry me. Then came in that good man Mr. Ready-to-halt, to see her. So she said to him. Thy travel hitherto has been with difficulty; but that will make thy rest the sweeter. But watch, and be ready ; for at an hour when ye think not, the messenger may come. After him came Mr. Despondency and his daughter Much-afraid: to whom she said. You ought to mr. despon- " DENCY AND HIS with thankfulness for ever to remember »'^"ghter. your deliverance from the hands of Giant Despair, and out of Doubting-castle. The effect of that mercy is, that you are brought with safety hither. Be ye watchful, and cast away fear; be sober, and hope to the end. Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, Thou wast delivered from the mouth of Giant Slay-good, ^omr. that thou mightest live in the light of the living, and see thy King with comfort. Only I advise thee to repent of thine aptness to fear and doubt of his goodness, before he sends for thee; lest thou shouldst, when he comes, be forced to stand before him for that fault with blushing.* * The address made by Christiana to each of the company, and the cir- cumstances of her passing the river, are well deserving of attention , but require no comment. When such believers as have long walked honourably, are enabled to bear a dying testimony to the truth, and to recommend the ways of the Lord with the last remains of their breath, a great effect will often be produced : but the confidence of some professors, in these circum- stances, has a very different tendency. Many excellent persons, however, are incapacitated from speaking much in their last hours; and we ought by 3T FEEBLB- UIND. 546 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. HER LAST DAY, AND So thc TOdd wds full of Dcople to see her MANNER OF DEPJR- ^ '■ ^•"'^- take her journey. But, behold, all the banks beyond the river were full of horses and chariots, which were come down from above to accompany her to the city gate. So she came forth, and entered the river, with a beckon of farewell to those that followed her. The last words that she was heard to say were, I come. Lord, to be with thee and bless thee ! So her children and friends returned to their place, for those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the gate with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian had entered with before her. At her depar- ture, the children wept. But Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Valiant played upon the well-tuned cymbal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respective places.* In process of time, there came a post to the town again, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he inquired him out, and said, I am come from Him whom thou hast loved and followed, though upon crutches ; and my message is to tell thee that he expects thee at his table to sup with him in his kingdom, the next day after Easter ; no means to judge of men's characters on these grounds : for it is remark* able, that the Scripture is generally silent about the manner in which its worthies terminated their lives ; and a very few exceptions are found to this rule. We are particularly instructed in the nature of their faith, and its effects upon their conduct during life ; and thence we may assuredly infer, that they died in the Lord, and entered into rest. * The happy death of an eminent Christian is a loss to relatives and connexions, to the church and the community; and in this view may be lamented : but it often yields great encouragement to ministers and other spectators of the irteresting scene, and excites their adoring praise and thanksgivings. MR. READY-TO-HALT SUMMONED. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 547 wherefore prepare thyself for this journey.* Then he also gave him a token that he was a true messenger, saying, " I have broken thy golden bowl, and loosed thy silver cord."''t After this, Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow- pilgrims, and told them, saying, I am sent for, and God shall surely visit you also. So he desired Mr. Valiant to make his will. And because he had nothing to be- queath to them that should survive him but his crutches and his good wishes, therefore thus he said, promises. These crutches I bequeath to my son that shall tread in my steps, with an hundred M^arm wishes that his will. he may prove better than I have been. Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his conduct and kindness, and so addressed himself to his journey. When he came to the brink of the river he said, Now I shall have no more need of these crutches, since yonder are chariots and horses for me to ride on. The last words he was heard to say were, Welcome, life ! his last words. So he went his way. After this, Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought him c Eccles. xii. 6. * Evident decays of natural powers as effectually convince the observing person that death approaches, as if a messenger had been sent to inform him. But men in general cling to life, wilfully overlook such tokens, and try to keep up to the last the vain hope of recovering; and others, by a kind of cruel compassion, soothe them in the delusion: so that numbers diu suddenly of chronical disorders, even as if they had been shot through the heart. Perhaps, however, the author had some reference to those inexpli- cable presages of death, which some persons evidently experience. f These tokens are taken from a well-known portion of Scripture ; but it would be inconsistent with the plan of this work, to enter on a particular explanation of them. The dealings of the Lord are here represented, as uniformly gentle to the feeble, trembling, humble believers; and the cir- cumstances of their deaths comparatively encouraging and easy. 548 THii. PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. FEEBtE SUMMONED. j„„n that the post sounded his horn at his chamber- door. Then he came in, and told him, saying, I am come to tell thee that thy Master hath need of thee, and that in a very little time thou must behold his face in brightness. And take this as a token of the truth of my message : " Those that look out at the windows shall be darkened." Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told them what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he had received of the truth of the message. Then he said, Since I have nothing to bequeath to any, to what purpose should I make a will? As for my feeble mind, that I HE MAKES NO WILL, vvill Icavc bcliind me, for that I shall have no need of in the place whither I go, nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrims: wherefore, when I am gone, I desire that you, Mr. Valiant, would bury it in a dunghill. This done, and the day being come on which he was to depart, he entered the river as the HIS LAST WORDS. Tcst. Hls last words were. Hold out, faith and patience ! So he went over to the other side. When days had many of them passed away, Mr. Despondency was sent for ; for a post was come, and MR. DESPONDENCY brought this mcssagc to him: Trembling SUMMONED. 1-1 II man ! tliese are to summon thee to be ready with the King by the next Lord's day, to shout for joy for thy deliverance from all thy doubtings. And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take this for a proof: so he gave him a grasshopper to be a burden unto him.'' Now, Mr. Despondency's daughter, whose name was R Much-afraid, said, when she heard what was done, that she would go with her father. BIS DAOGHTE GOES TOO. d Eccles. sii. 5. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 549 Then Mr. Despondency said to his friends, Myself and my daughter you know what we have been, and how troublesomely we have behaved ourselves in every company. My will and my daughter's is, that his wilu our desponds and slavish fears be by no man ever received, from the day of our departure for ever ; for I know that after my death they will offer themselves to others. For to be plain with you, they are ghosts which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and could never shake them off after ; and they will walk about, and seek entertainment of the pilgrims: but for our sakes, shut the doors upon them. When the time was come for them to depart, they went up to the brink of the river. The last words of his last words, Mr. Despondency were, Farewell, night; welcome, day ! His daughter went through the river singing, but none could understand what she said. Then it came to pass a while after, that there was a post in the town that inquired for Mr. Honest. So he came to the house where he was, and delivered to his hand these lines : Thou art commanded to be ready against this day sevennight, to present thyself before thy Lord, at his Father's house. And for a token that my message is true, " All the daughters of music shall be brought low."^ Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto them, I die, but shall make no will. As for my honesty, it shall go with me ; let him that comes after be told of this When the day that he was to be gone was come, he addressed himself to go over the river. Now, the river at that time overflowed its banks in some places ; but Mr. Honest in his life-time had spoken to one MR. HONEST SUMMONED. BE MAKES NO WILL. e Eccles. xii. 4. 550 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. MR. VALIANT-F TRUTH snUMONED. GOOD-CONSCIENCE Good-consciencG to meet him there, the OVER THE RIVER." ^hlch hc dlso did, and lent him his hand, and so helped him over. The last words of Mr. Honest were, Grace reigns ! So he left the world. After this it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for- oR. truth was taken with a summons by the same post as the other, and had this for a token that the summons was true, " That his pitcher was broken at the fountain."^ When he understood it, he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then said he, I am going to my Father's ; and though with great difficulty I have got hither, yet now I do not re- pent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed HIS WILL, me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought His battles who now will be my rewarder. When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he went he said, " Death, where is thy sting ?" And as he went down deeper, he said, " Grave, where is thy victory ?" So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side. Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Standfast. MR. STANDFAST. This Mr. Standfast was he that the rest of the pilgrims found upon his knees in the Enchanted Ground. And the post brought it him open in his hands ; the contents thereof were, that he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he should be so far from him any longer. At this Mr. Standfast was put into a muse. Nay, said the messen- f Eccles. zii. 6. HIS LAST WORDS. HE CALLS FOR MR. GREAT-HEART. HIS SFEBCI TO HIM. HIS ERRAND TO HIS FAMILY. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 551 ger, you need not doubt of the truth of my message ; for here is a token of the truth thereof: " Thy wheel is broken at the cistern." Then he called to him Mr. Great-heart, who was their guide, and said unto him, Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in your good company during the days of my pilgrimage, yet, since the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me. When I came from home, I left behind me a wife and five small children ; let me entreat you at your return, (for 1 know that you go and return to your Master's house, in hopes that you may yet be a conductor to more of the holy pilgrims,) that you send to my family, and let them be acquainted with all that hath and shall happen unto me. Tell them moreover of my happy arrival at this place, and of the present and late blessed condition I am in. Tell them also of Christian and Christiana his wife, and how she and her children came after her husband. Tell them also of what a happy end she made, and whither she is gone. I have little or nothing to send to my family, unless it be prayers and tears for them ; of which it will suffice that you acquaint them, if peradventure they may prevail. When Mr. Standfast had thus set things in order, the time being come for him to haste him away, he also went down to the river. Now there was a great calm at that time in the river; wherefore Mr. Standfast, when he was about half way in, stood a while, and talked with his companions that had waited upon him thither. And he said, This river has been a his last terror to many ; yea, the thoughts of it also have often frightened me ; but now methinks I stand 552 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. easy ; my foot is fixed upon that on which the feet of the priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood while Israel went over Jordan.^ The waters indeed are to the palate bitter, and to the stomach cold ; yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the conduct that waits for me on the other side, do lie as a glowing coal at my heart. I see myself now at the end of my journey ; my toilsome days are ended. I am going to see that head that was crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon for me. I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith ; but now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with him in whose company I delight myself. I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too. His name has been to me as a civet-box ; yea, sweeter than all perfumes. His voice to me has been most sweet ; and his countenance I have more desired than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His words I did use to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. He hath held me, and hath kept me from mine iniquities; yea, my steps hath he strengthened in his way.* g Josh. iii. 17. * This speech has been justly admired, as one of the most striking passages in the whole work : but it is so plain, that it only requires an attentive reader. It may, however, be worthy of our observation, that in all the instances before us the Pilgrims are represented as resting their only dependence, at the closing scene, on the mercy of God, through the righteousness and atonement of his Son : and yet recollecting their con- scious integrity, boldness in professing and contending for the truth, love to the cause, example, and words of Christ, obedience to his precepts, delight in his ways, preservation from their own iniquities, and consistent behaviour, as evidences that their faith was living, and their hope warranted ; and in this way the retrospect conduced to their encouragement. Moreover, they THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 553 Now, while he was thus in discourse, his countenance changed ; his strong man bowed under hini : and after he had said. Take me, for I come unto thee, lie ceased to be seen of them. But glorious it was to see how the open region w^as filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with singers and players upon stringed instru- ments, to welcome the pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the city.* all concur in declaring, that while they left their infirmities behind them, they should take their graces along with them, and that ' their works would follow them.' Thus the scriptural mean is exactly maintained, between those who place their supposed good works as Xhe foundation of their hope ; and those, who would exclude even real good works from being so much as looked upon, as evidential of saving faith, or as in any way giving encour agement to the believer in his dying hour. * The view given in this place, of the peaceful and joyful death of the Pilgrims, cannot but affect every reader in some degree ; and many perhaps may be ready to say, • Let me die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like his :' but, except they make it their principal concern to live the life of the righteous, such a wish will most probably be frustrated ; and every hope grounded on it is evidently presumptuous, as the example of Balaam sufficiently proves. If any man, therefore, doubt whether this allegory do indeed describe the Rise and Progress of religion in the soul ; the beginning, continuance, and termination of the godly man's course to heaven ; let him diligently search the Scriptures, and fervently pray to God, from whom alone ' cometh every good and perfect gift,' to enable him to determine this question. But let such as own themselves to be satisfied that it does, beware lest they rest on this assent and notion, in the pleasure of reading an ingenious work on the subject, or in the ability of developing many of the author's emblems. Let them beware, lest they be fascinated, as it were, into a persuasion, that they actually accompany the Pilgrims in the life of faith, and walking with God, in the same measure, as they keep pace with the author, in discovering and approving the grand outlines of his plan. And let every one carefully examine his state, sentiments, experi- ence, motives, tempers, affections and conduct, by the various characters, in- cidents, and observations, that pass under his review ; assured that this is a matter of the greatest consequence. We ought not indeed to call any man master, or subscribe absolutely to all his sentiments; yet the diligent 3U 554 THE. PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ^ As for Christiana's children, the four boys that Christiana brought, with their wives and children, I did not stay where I was till they were gone over. Also, since I came Rway, I heard one say that they were yet alive, and so would be for the increase of the church in that place where they were, for a time. Should it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it an account of what I here am silent about. Meantime I bid my reader Farewell. practical student of Scripture can scarcely doubt, but that the warnings, counsels, and instructions of this singular work, agree in general with that sacred touchstone ; or that characters and actions will at last be approved or condemned by the Judge of the world, in a great degree according to the sen- tence passed on them in this wise and faithful book. The Lord grant that the readers of these observations ' may find mercy in that day,' and be addressed in these gracious words, ' Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you, from the foundation of the world." THE END. ^^MMSLM^